Empty Spaces

Chapter 25

"I have to go back," Draco whispered, picking up the wretched piece of parchment. "To the Manor..."

"Why?"

"I have to..." Draco handed over Lucius' letter. Potter read it, then read it again.

"What the actual fuck...?"

Potter's reaction was somehow just what Draco needed to get his brain working properly again, and he even managed a dry laugh. Spot on, Potter. What the actual fuck, Lucius?

"He's trying to get me to come home," Draco explained, "He knows I've refused his housing. I haven't taken any of his money, I haven't accepted any of his networking, I've been burning every bridge and he knows it... so he's making me come home..."

"Don't go," Potter said simply, "If he's trying to trap you, don't fall for it."

"That's just it, though!" Draco's mind started racing again, "He's saying that my mother is ill, that she's giving in... fading... if something happened to my mother and I wasn't there, I'd never be able to live with myself! She's human, just like the rest of us, she tried her best, she really did. It's not her fault she ended up with the life she was stuck with! I already wrote to her this morning and got no response. I can't NOT go because I can't risk losing her! Not like this, anyway!"

Potter was looking at him with a strange expression on his face.

"Okay. So you're going back. But I'm going with you."

"No you're not."

"I'm not letting you go back to that place alone!"

"You're Harry fucking Potter!!! Do you have any idea what Lucius will DO to you if you just show up at the Manor!?"

"Nothing worse than what he'll do to YOU, oh estranged Heir to the Malfoy Throne," Potter retorted. "Look, if you REALLY don't want me to go with you, I don't have to. But I honestly think you'll be better off if you don't go alone."

Fucking Potter, right again.

"When are you going?" Potter asked.

"Over the holidays," Draco said quietly, "I can't afford to miss any classes. Even Lucius can't argue with that... hopefully I'm not too late... It's only two more days..."

"Okay," Potter replied, nodding, thinking. "I'll bring my cloak. We go, we make sure Narcissa is alright. If she is, then we get the fuck out. If not... well... I'll be there for you, okay?" Potter took Draco's hand, looking up with such sincerity that Draco felt himself choking. He never cried. What the fuck, Potter...

"I'd say everything will be okay," Potter said at last, "But we both know that's just empty words. But no matter what happens... you don't have to go through it alone. That I can say..."

"Don't make futile promises, Potter," Draco warned, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

"I'm not," Potter replied. "We'll take it one step at a time. What do you need, like, right now?"

"Um..." Draco hesitated. What did he need? What a simple question and complex one all at once.

"You're cold," Potter observed, "Accio." He brought his jacket over from the chair where he'd dropped it and wrapped it around Draco. "Caldorium. There. One thing fixed. Now what do you need?"

"Aberforth gave me another letter yesterday afternoon..." Draco remembered.

"Really, Malfoy, you want to work, like, right now...?" Potter asked, raising an eyebrow. Draco almost managed a laugh. Potter...

"Yeah... well... I promised I'd have it done and..." And it's something that makes sense. German to English. I can do that.

"Okay, whatever you need," Potter shrugged, settling himself at the table as Draco took Aberforth's latest inquiry out of his bag. It was calming, having something to do, a clear task that needed to be accomplished and once done, it could be neatly checked off a list. Such a difference from reality, where everything is a tangled mess. Maybe Lucius was right about the world being a festering abyss... only Lucius' opinion of how to survive it was vastly different from what Draco was discovering...

And so he made it through the afternoon and into the evening, one task at a time. Aberforth's letter. Holmberg's assignment. McGonagall's essay. He made dinner. Cleaned up. And then, as night fell, Draco found himself needing to ask something of Potter... Potter always insisted that if he needed anything, he should just ask... well... why was this so hard?

"Hey... Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay with me tonight?"

"What? Er– yeah?"

"Not– not like that, well, not unless you want to," Draco fumbled, trying to figure out how to articulate what it was that he needed. What he really needed was to not be alone tonight... the thought of facing the darkness by himself was simply overwhelming... "Just... stay?"

"Yeah, of course," Potter accepted easily. "Just let me grab my stuff. Give me five minutes. You can even come with me, if you want..."

Sleep came far easier that night than Draco thought it would. A Malfoy lives and operates alone. Except for this Malfoy.

It was a comforting thought, a beacon in the impending darkness, and somehow... it was enough.