Empty Spaces

Chapter 7

"No, but Harry, what I'm saying is that I think I really understand where you're coming from now," Ginny said, "I don't think either one of us was in a place where we were ready for anything more. And I'm ready to move on, if you are, move on with just being friends again. I mean it. We're good as friends. I miss being your friend. But we're sort of rubbish as lovers, don't you think?"

There was a sincerity in her voice that Harry hadn't heard before. What on earth did she talk about with Luna???

"I miss being your friend too," Harry admitted. He liked Ginny– she was clever, quick-witted, tough, ruthless on the Quidditch pitch. She was fun. Then they started exploring what it meant to be something more than friends, and– while enjoyable– it just didn't quite... Harry couldn't explain. In one way or another, he really did love her. But he almost liked the idea of loving her more than the actual act of doing it. Is that even a thing?

They entered the greenhouse and found a table together. Ginny told Harry about her plans for next year: the Quidditch teams she wanted to try out for and what positions she hoped to play. Grateful for the comfortable conversation topic, Harry mostly listened but contributed here and there. At some point, she called Ron over to their table and told him to get over himself before she started pelting Harry with more questions about the new Potions teacher until Professor Sprout scolded them for talking when they should be repotting the baby Venomous Tentacula plants, leaving Harry alone with his confusing thoughts and his hands full of fertilizer. Class ended and Ginny headed off to lunch with friends, leaving Harry alone with Ron once more.

"How do I know you won't let her down again?" Ron finally asked as they walked out of the greenhouse together. "She was really hurt this summer..."

"We all were, weren't we?" Harry said quietly, and the moment he said it, he realized. "Ginny and I really are through, she said it herself just now. We're good friends, but rubbish at anything more. This is about more than just Ginny, though, isn't it...?"

"Where were you all summer, mate??" Ron finally turned and asked directly, "I tried to reach you, we all did... We wanted to be here for you, and then... then..."

"I wasn't there for you," Harry said, the guilt and emptiness returning. How is it possible for it to come flooding back like this, like it's on a tap or something!? "I've been a terrible friend... I've dragged you all through hell and given nothing back in return or thanks... I just... I couldn't..."

"We would have been there to help you through it. I would have been there. I wanted to be there," Ron pressed.

"I know..." Harry said, wishing the ground would come up and swallow him whole. He hadn't thought he would survive the war in the first place, let alone attempt any sort of return to normality afterwards, and now he was stuck living in it: The empty future that was somehow supposed to be full of promise. How do you tell your best friend that you weren't there for him because you couldn't even bring yourself to get up every morning...? How do you tell your best friend that you tried your best, you really did, except that your best, it turned out, was more like eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast at 3 in the afternoon before calling it a day...?

"It's okay to not be okay, mate," Ron said quietly. "I'm not. Ginny's not. None of us are. Nobody said you had to be, either."

Harry simply nodded, processing this.

"Just know I'm here for you, mate," Ron said at last with a bit of a resigned sigh, clasping his hand firmly on Harry's shoulder. "I know you're trying. We all are. Hungry?"

Harry shook his head. He was hungry- and grateful to be back on speaking terms with Ron- but mostly he just felt drained, as if his ability to survive being around people had been thoroughly spent for the day and it was only lunchtime.

"You go ahead," Harry said, "I'll see you in Transfiguration..."

Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but then decided against it, instead turning up towards the Great Hall while Harry headed down to the gates.

Harry disapparated the moment he set foot outside school grounds, wondering whether Aberforth had anything worth eating or maybe he would just go up to his room and have another bowl of cereal... then he turned the corner into the bar and found himself face to face with a pair of gray eyes.

"Malfoy," Harry said, not really knowing what else to say. What do you say to the person who hates you... but saves you... but...? Who even is Malfoy to me? What am I to him? We're not friends. But we're also not enemies, that much has been made clear too... And we're also not... Harry pushed certain familiar and forbidden thoughts away.

"Potter."

"Bit early for a pint, isn't it?" Harry kicked himself internally for his stupid attempt at conversation. Had he ever even had a proper conversation with Malfoy before about something normal? Why start now? Past Harry would have just thrown a silent hex and been done with it, but then again, there were a lot of things that Past Harry didn't know that Present Harry now does...

"Never too early for a good firewhiskey," Malfoy said smoothly, "But I'm not drinking. Not yet anyway. Just waiting for a friend."

"Yea, well, you're in my way," Harry said, stepping aside and making for the stairs at the end of the bar, suddenly extremely irritated by something he couldn't quite name. "Have fun with your 'friend'."

Malfoy's response was lost by Harry slamming the door to the stairwell. What was he thinking, going back to school??? It's been half a damn day and already he wanted to throw himself out the window.

Just eat the stupid cereal. Eat the stupid cereal and go to Transfiguration. You can't quit before you've even made it to all your classes. Get it together, Potter, you can do this.