Empty Spaces

Chapter 63

26th June

My dear sons,

You are cordially invited to a farewell dinner party on the 1st of July. Your presence is to be announced at precisely four o'clock, so please plan on departing for the Manor no later than half past three. You are to dress appropriately for the occasion, and Draco, dear, see what you can do about Harry's hair.

Your devoted mother,

Narcissa

"Oh, look, I'm officially one of the family now," Harry said affectionately, "Think she'll have those awesome cakes again?"

"What?" Draco groaned. He had no particular desire to go to anything Narcissa arranged. Harry, on the other hand, was irritatingly all smiles.

"Those cakes she had the last time," Harry reminisced.

"Are you talking about the time my father tried to kill us, or the time you were in the hospital...?" Draco asked. Harry, my family is dangerous. You know this.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, nonchalant, "It all sort of blends together. But those cakes were so fucking good, I vote we go just for that... Hey, there's a postscript on the back." Harry took the letter from Draco's hand and turned it over.

Draco, love, perhaps tell Harry that you are to depart at three o'clock instead of half past. The poor dear is so prone to lateness, what with his Muggle upbringing and everything. Yes, please tell Harry three o'clock.

Draco died a little inside in the way that only Narcissa could make him do, but Harry just laughed.

"Got that?" Harry teased, kissing Draco on the cheek. "Come on, go ahead, you've got to tell me–"

"Shut up, Harry," Draco swatted away his boyfriend, "If you really want to go, we'll be there. On time." Narcissa was... Narcissa. But if she could accept Draco's new life without question, Draco could accept her dinner party invitation. Especially if Harry, for whatever stupid reason, wanted to go. It would be their last chance to see her for a while, in any case.

For they really were leaving, after all: Leaving for a new start in a new country. Although Harry didn't ever say it aloud, maybe because Harry didn't fully realize it himself, Draco could tell that this was something Harry desperately needed. Both of them, actually. The chance to discover who they were, not who they thought everyone else wanted them to be.

Packing had turned out to be surprisingly easy, although in retrospect, Draco supposed he could have anticipated that part better. Over the course of the year, he'd gotten rid of just about everything he owned that had any association with Lucius, which meant he was leaving Hogsmeade with significantly less than what he'd started with. Harry, who had long been able to fit everything he owned into the Hogwarts trunk before leaving most of it behind to go on the run last year, had equally little. There were various kitchen and household items, but both agreed that Hermione should take most of those to her new flat in London. Draco was taking his espresso maker, though.

When all was said and done, the last night of June found Draco lying in bed beside his lover in a tiny room in a tiny flat in a dingy inn with dirty windows and creaky floors. The sheets were cheap and the mattress sagged and everything they owned fit inside one trunk that wasn't even his. His finances were scarce and he had no idea what his next source of income would be. No Malfoy had ever failed so miserably or brought the family name so low.

And yet, in that moment, holding on to the person he loved, Draco had never been happier.

But moments are fleeting, tricky things that slip away almost as soon as they appear, and the next day found Draco's stomach twisting into knots as he once again prepared to return to the one place he never wanted to set foot in again.