Empty Spaces

Chapter 32

 - Harry -

Harry started the term hopelessly empty, stripped of everything that made him Harry. But the strange positive to losing everything is that when you have nothing, everything becomes equally possible.

Sure, he'd lost the shallow things– Quidditch was on the top of that list. Then came the slightly deeper things, like his former favorite subject and a halted career path. Deeper still were his friendships, with everyone inevitably drifting apart. But with all this came the unexpected loss of many barriers that Harry hadn't even realized were in his way. Would Past Harry have been able to embrace and accept Holmberg's teaching methods, or would Past Harry simply have dismissed it all because everyone knows that Harry is "bad" at Potions? What kind of Auror would Past Harry have made? Would he really have delivered justice? Or would his body count have surpassed the Dark Wizards he was supposedly saving everyone from? And would Past Harry have been able to set aside his prejudice to discover who Draco really was, hiding in plain sight just behind the Malfoy mask?

So when Malfoy launched himself into his new job at the inn, Harry was determined to show his support– after all, he knew what it felt like to embark on something that went against everything you thought you knew. Sure, he would have preferred to spend the holidays with his boyfriend's undivided attention, but this was important to Malfoy and so, by extension, it became important to Harry, too.

To Harry's secret relief, Aberforth had apparently put his foot down and wasn't going to let Malfoy work on Christmas Day. He did, however, give in to Malfoy's insistence that he would need help on Christmas Eve– from what Harry gathered, Malfoy's fluency (and let's be real, his charm as well), meant that Aberforth now had several last-minute arrivals coming in from Rome. Not wanting to be in the way, Harry took his broom and went flying in the crisp, winter morning. He may have lost all interest in playing Quidditch, but he liked flying well enough, and passed the day sweeping among the snow-covered trees, reflecting on all that had changed and even daring to wonder what the future held in store for him.

Cold and windswept, he made his way back to the inn, feeling the familiar jump in his heart as he caught Malfoy's eye from across the room. He liked this Malfoy– well, he'd always liked Malfoy in one way or another– but this Malfoy was confident and animated, chatting with a group of foreign wizards while throwing a smile across the room at Harry. In many ways, this Malfoy was the same as the old Malfoy– still a peacock strutting around, Harry rolled his eyes affectionately– but it was different now: This Malfoy seemed happy. Harry had never really considered happiness to be a sexy trait, but Malfoy wore it incredibly well.

Harry put his broom away and came back downstairs as the group of foreign wizards disbanded from the reception desk; he went over and rang the bell.

"Un momento per favore," Malfoy said absently, putting something away on the shelf while Harry smiled to himself. He liked this Malfoy. A lot. Malfoy turned around, looking for his patron, only to find Harry smiling up at him.

"Potter!" Malfoy tried (unsuccessfully) to hide his smile, "Don't play around, I'm working!"

"Who's playing?" Harry grinned, "I have a question for you, Oh Hog's Head Manager–"

"I'm not the manager–"

"Do you interrupt all your clients or just me?" Harry teased.

"Just you. What did you want?"

"Do find out what time your shift is over."

"Well, that was the last group checking in today, so if you actually let me do my job, Potter, I'd say five or ten minutes?"

"Nice. What are you doing afterwards?"

"No idea," Malfoy replied, tapping a book with his wand and sending it flying to the shelf behind the desk, "But based on the fact that you're here, I'm going to assume I'm hanging out with you. What do you want to do?"