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Harry didn't see Draco for several weeks after that.

It wasn't for lack of trying. He had gone to Draco's flat countless times and had been turned away by the neighbours who had insisted that Draco didn't want to see him. The last time he had gone, the landlord had told him that Draco had moved out. Apparently, he'd been unable to afford it as he couldn't pay his rent anymore. 

Harry had scoured what felt like all of London for Draco, including the seized Malfoy Manor, but to no avail. Each new lead transpired simply to be a dead end. 

The empty desk in the office hadn't been filled, either. Harry had refused, even after Kingsley had repeatedly asked him to find him a new office partner, because no one else deserved to sit in such a special place. No one else was worthy.

Harry's friends were also angry with him for what he'd done. Hermione had had a right go at him, fairly, in the moments after she'd discovered it, and then proceeded to ignore him for a full week. They were all assisting him in locating Draco, but none of them had yet to have any luck either.  Hermione was working all around the clock to get the new law revoked, using Draco's case as her evidence on its harshness. She was making progress, but it was slow. She'd managed to get some people to come forwards in defence of Draco, including people he'd saved in the line of duty. 

They all stopped giving him a hard time when he quite spontaneously came apart in front of them. 

George, who seemed to have grown the fondest of Draco despite everything, made a veiled comment about what happened and Harry just snapped. He didn't mean to yell at them until his voice was hoarse and his eyes were brimming with angry tears but he was just so fed up with being held continually accounted for, and reminded of, something he'd stupidly done in the past - something he was trying to undo. 

He realised that this was what Draco must have felt like since the war, when encountering those who used him as a scapegoat for all the suffering they'd endured. 

Merlin, he hated it. It was awful. 

Harry went to work each day, and each day he glanced over the empty desk as if the sheer force of his gaze would materialise Draco. 

Dammit, why was he so goddamn stupid? 


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