Empty Spaces

Chapter 57

Freedom turned out to be nothing like Draco imagined. Then again, it's not like he had much to go on before.

There was no denying that the life he left behind was one of luxury and convenience. He'd long since lost track of the times when he wished he could just summon someone to do the dishes or clean the toilet or make breakfast. How many times had he lost his shit on Harry over the piles of dirty laundry or half eaten cereal bowls adorning their room?? How often did Draco come home exhausted with every ounce of emotional patience long gone, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto an empty bed and never speak to another person ever again, only to find an overly eager boyfriend seeking companionship?? How many times did Draco have to turn down his initial impulse to buy the clothes, the food, the coffee, the presents (this was the worst– having a boyfriend but being unable to indulge him!)?? Lucius had been right: Life was hard. Mercilessly, undeniably, ruthlessly hard.

But it was Draco's life, and somehow that tiny detail made all the difference in the world. It was strange and messy and beautiful, filled with the unexpected and unpredictable, everything Draco had been raised to hate and yet he wouldn't want it any other way.

There was the time Harry brought him to the Muggle theater, only it wasn't real theater, it was as if someone managed to photograph an entire play and everyone pretended it was theater. Harry insisted that he wanted to take Draco out on a "proper date," whatever the hell that was, and that this was something Muggles did with their boyfriends and Harry had never been to the cinema before as a child so they were going now. Draco only understood about half of what Harry was talking about, but was determined to go along with whatever it was they were doing because if it was important to Harry, it was important to him too. The whole thing was uncomfortably large and loud, and Draco had to fight back a lot of snarky comments about how proper theater was clearly superior in terms of both quality and subtle artistry, but for some crazy and inexplicable reason, he ended up enjoying himself nonetheless. He did, however, make a mental note to save enough money to take Harry to a proper performance at some point.

Lunchtime on Tuesdays and Thursdays was now dedicated to exam preparation, and the Room that once haunted Draco's nightmares had gradually shifted to become a sanctuary of sorts. It was a place of camaraderie where mistakes were okay, problems were solved, questions were answered, answers were debated, and nobody passed judgment. It wasn't to say that everyone always got along– quite the opposite– but the fact that two people could disagree completely on something (fucking Nargles) but still be friends was nothing short of a life-altering experience for Draco. Friendship, it turns out, goes a lot further when it's built on a foundation where both parties view– and treat– each other as equals. Up yours, Lucius.

Then there were the little things, mundane things, things woven into the simple fabric of everyday life. Things like Harry making espresso in the morning, or going out of his way to take (legible) notes in Potions class, or fixing dinner so Draco could keep studying with Hermione (cereal, but it's the thought that counts). Neville asking for help with Transfiguration, an encouraging word from Luna, Hermione bringing sweets home from work. Lucius was right, but Aberforth had been right too: Some wounds run too deep to ever go away, but you can learn to live with them. It takes time. Patience. Acceptance. Surrounding yourself with people you love and who love you back.

And so the last vestiges of winter melted away, revealing a spring that neither Draco nor Harry thought they would live to see, and yet, here they were against all odds.

As the exams grew closer, so did the inevitable end of Eighth Year and the relative security of life as a student. Hermione had her apprenticeship lined up: Even without the Ministry's support, she was able to secure a number of individuals who wanted to train her and she eventually settled for a witch in London who specialized not only in Magical Law but in ethics and foreign relations as well. Neville had his first round of research funding on the way and, with Draco's help, was now coordinating places to stay and points of contact from around the world. Luna was going to spend the summer with her father before joining Neville in Peru for her own research observing the magical properties of cavies. Ginny signed a deal with the Holyhead Harpies and would be going into training that summer. Even Parkinson and Zabini shared their plans to go into journalism after school– Draco doubted they would ever be able to truly reconcile their past with him, but it was at least nice to part on arguably good terms.

So what were Draco's plans then?

The easy solution would be to stay in Hogsmeade. Draco was now able to run just about every aspect of the inn on his own, and once exams were out of the picture, he could take on even more. There was no denying that Aberforth would only continue to get older from here; someday, he would actually need Draco's help. But it was a conversation Draco kept putting off, dreading the response. What if the man who loved and treated him like a son rejected his offer to stay longer? But what if Aberforth said yes? What then? How far could Draco go, how much more could he betray his family and his lineage? When he left home, the singular goal had been to escape his father's strangling grasp, which in hindsight had been painfully short-sighted, lacking any and all answers to the looming question: Then what?

And yet, for the moment, life had never been better. True, it had also never been harder. But Draco felt as if he'd been living in darkness for eighteen years and now, at long last, someone lit the torches and he was suddenly able to experience the world in all of its beautiful and imperfect glory.

"Mmm," Harry rolled over in his sleep, turning away from the early morning light and burying his face in the pillow as he threw an arm across Draco's chest, "Stay here."

Draco smiled to himself as he indulged Harry's request; they would have to get up eventually, but for now... For now, their bed was warm and it had a Harry in it. Draco could take the time to enjoy the moment. Such a luxury, but one entirely unlike those he'd grown up with. The room grew steadily brighter; Draco could now hear the familiar sounds of Hermione in the kitchen as well as the general clamor of the rest of the inn waking up and starting their own days. It was a stark contrast to the enormous and empty Manor.

"Everything okay?" Harry mumbled into the blankets, "You're up early."

"Yeah, just... thinking," Draco replied.

"Good shit or bad shit?"

"Neither...? It's fine?" Draco said, unsure how exactly to word what it was that was bothering him. What are we going to do when everything comes to an end, again? Everything that we've worked so hard for, fought for...? What's next?

"Come on, out with it then," Harry coaxed.

"What do you want to do after school?" Draco asked, ignoring his racing heart. It's okay to ask a question. It's Harry.

"Like, today?" Harry replied, skeptical.

"No, like, after the exams," Draco explained.

"Aren't we staying here?" Harry asked, suddenly awake.

"I don't know, are we?" Draco replied. They'd never discussed the future so directly before. Draco supposed it was understandable, considering most of what they'd been doing all year was simply trying to survive in the present. "Is that what you want to do?"

"I want to be with you," Harry said, "If that's something you want, too."

There was something off about the whole exchange, something Draco couldn't quite place. But it was early and they had school and work and Draco decided to just let it go for now.

"Everything okay, kid?" Aberforth called Draco into the back room, "You look distracted."

Fucking feelings. Once you start feeling them, they're all just out there for everyone to notice...

"Yeah," Draco replied halfheartedly. Aberforth simply looked on, expectant, and the next thing Draco knew, it was all out in the open. What comes next?

"Hey, come here," Aberforth pulled Draco in close, "As long as you want to stay, there's a place for you here and I'm happy to have you. Yes, Potter too, looks like you're a package deal now, which is fine. Okay?"

Draco nodded. His brain said that he should feel better now, that his future was decided and he could rest assured knowing that he had something waiting for him once the exams were over. Only he couldn't shake the tiny, nagging feeling deep inside that asked him the infuriating question:

That's it?