Empty Spaces

Chapter 31

Draco showed up at the bar uncharacteristically nervous, hoping he wasn't too early or too late, and also hoping that didn't appear too eager or too casual. But Aberforth just gave him an amused sort of paternal smile, telling him that he would be in charge of checking people in that morning before giving instructions on how the bookkeeping system worked. Driven by a fierce need to prove himself, as well as the practicality of wanting to save up as much as he could during the school break, Draco launched himself into his new job. Whether he was trying to demonstrate his worth to Aberforth or himself, or maybe he just wanted to stick it to Lucius by showing that he was perfectly capable of surviving on his own, Draco wasn't completely sure. But did it really matter? He was here, making his own choices and living his own life.

It was strangely enjoyable work, especially when he got to show off his language skills. Draco's Italian was rusty, at least when it came to speaking, but the wizard visiting from Rome was patient and appreciative of his efforts and they ended up getting into an unexpectedly nice conversation about cooking. Potter flitted in and out of the crowd, clearly keeping his eye on Draco while trying not to be obvious about it, the effect of which only made the whole thing endearingly obvious. Just after noon, Aberforth came over and paid Draco for his time before sending him off to go rest with instructions to come back tomorrow morning.

"Look at you," Potter gushed, coming over. "A working man now."

"Oh shut up," Draco laughed, "Unless it's a turn-on for you, in which case, please continue," he whispered in Potter's ear, enjoying the shade of red that flushed in Potter's cheeks.

"Stop it, sorry I said anything," Potter flustered, swatting Draco away. "I've got something for you, and it's not this," he continued, handing Draco a sandwich as they headed up the stairs.

"Um... thanks?" Draco replied, taking his lunch and opening the door to his flat, ushering Potter inside.

"It's an early Christmas present," Potter grinned. "Want it now or later?"

"I don't know," Draco smiled back before leaning over and whispering in Potter's ear, "Is it something I want now or later?"

"Go eat your lunch," Potter swatted him away, "You're still supposed to be resting. And yes, it's something you want now. Well, you'll want it tomorrow morning."

"I can think of a lot of things that I'll want from you tomorrow morning," Draco couldn't help saying, biting into his sandwich while Potter hid his face by diving into his schoolbag. Oh Potter... This is far too easy and way too much fun...

"Sorry, I didn't really wrap it or anything..." Potter pulled something out of his bag that looked like a small, angular kettle perched up on a stand, handing it over with a grin. "It's an espresso maker. You drink espresso but you only have a coffee pot. Oh, and here– beans, espresso ground." He handed over a tin. "...Hey, you okay?"

Draco fixed his face. He'd grown up receiving extravagant presents– always, always with a catch. The overflowing boxes of sweets and treats he used to receive in the Great Hall as a child, the newest broomstick model, custom tailored suits and robes, all of it was another move in Lucius' great game to control his son. Even among his old friends, Draco had never really been able to distinguish who actually cared and who was just sucking up to the Malfoy name. And then there was Andor, who'd treated him to all sorts of things, but always with an end goal in mind... Potter has no alternate agenda... right? Potter doesn't play the game.

"Sorry– yes– Potter, that's– this is amazing!" Draco managed to get out, realizing he wasn't entirely sure how to accept a present, or at least, a normal one. He settled for taking the tin of coffee and opening it. The smell was incredible. Say thank you– that's what you're supposed to do. "Thank you," Draco leaned over and gave his boyfriend an affectionate kiss. Is this okay? Sorry, Potter, I hope I'm doing it right...

But Potter just grinned and explained how to use his new espresso maker. It was simple enough: Grounds in here, water here, hit it with a boiling spell and there you go. Draco was pretty sure he would have figured it out just fine on his own, but he let Potter have the satisfaction of explaining to him how to do something. Everything about Potter was so fascinating– the way he launched himself into things, giving everything and then some, whether it was on the Quidditch pitch or telling his boyfriend how to make coffee.

"You're making a weird face," Potter said at the end of his explanation, "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Draco replied, amused, "Just being you."

"Oh...kay...?"

"It's a good thing," Draco leaned back in his chair, full and comfortable and maybe even happy.

"How did it go this morning then?" Potter asked, absently running his hands through Draco's hair.

"Good, I think?" Draco replied. "Aberforth said Sundays are the busiest... days..." Draco trailed off as realization hit. Of course it was Sunday, he'd spent the whole goddamn morning checking people in and out, how could he be so stupid and careless!? Yesterday had been his last report: He had dutifully checked in with the bored-looking witch at the law enforcement desk every goddamn Saturday and now at the very end of all that crap, he'd finally managed to miss one. Granted, he had a rather legitimate reason, being in the hospital yesterday and all, but still... Bureaucracy doesn't care whether you're on your deathbed or not, forms are forms and checkboxes are checkboxes.

"Er... Draco?" Potter ventured cautiously, "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Fuck, Potter, it's fucking Sunday," Draco jumped up and grabbed his cloak, heading out the door. He wasn't sure how long the Ministry was open on Sundays... maybe if he headed over there now, there was still a chance to undo the damage... fuck... Potter trailed behind as Draco raced down the stairs and out into the snow.

"Stop, Malfoy, wait!" Potter caught up to him, taking hold of his hand and slowing him down. "Okay, wherever you're going, you are going to WALK there, not run, and while we're WALKING there, you're going to tell me what's going on," Potter insisted.

Draco reluctantly dropped his pace to a brisk walk, Potter still holding onto his hand.

"I missed my last appointment," he managed to say, still bristling with irritation at his own stupidity, "Yesterday was Saturday, I was supposed to show up for my final report–"

"You were in the hospital," Potter pointed out bluntly. "You couldn't have gone."

"Not like the Ministry cares," Draco said, striding up the icy street towards the village square. "You don't have to come with me if you don't want to..."

"Oh, I want to," Potter said, a smirk starting to spread across his face. "I'm Harry fucking Potter. I saved the goddamn world. They better not give you a hard time about this..."

Well. If nothing else, I'll at least get to witness the performance of Harry fucking Potter shoving it to the Ministry of Magic in my defense. The mental image was far hotter than he cared to admit, although as Potter's official boyfriend, Draco supposed such forbidden thoughts were now allowable. Potter did give a rather splendid performance in the end, and managed to talk down Draco's punishment to extend only for another month rather than through the end of the school year. By the time they left the Magical Law Enforcement office, Draco was in considerably higher spirits than he'd been anticipating, plus he now had the added bonus of a hot and bothered Potter at his side, so all in all, the whole endeavor was worth it in Draco's book.

"I can't believe they were planning to make you continue reporting to them for another five months!" Potter fumed, "Just for missing ONE day!? And it's not like you were off at the pub or something, you were in the goddamn hospital!"

"Welcome to my world, Potter," Draco said dryly. "Occupational hazards of being a Malfoy. By all means, though, please continue venting your frustrations, it's quite sexy."

"We are in the middle of the street and you are supposed to be resting," Potter muttered, blushing again, much to Draco's endless amusement.

"So many things to look forward to when we get out of the street then," Draco whispered in Potter's ear.

"Not until you're better," Potter swatted him away.

Oh, Potter... the things I'm going to do to you... But only when you're ready for it, too.