Empty Spaces

Chapter 30

Draco did his best to comply and answer her questions. He was keen to get out of the hospital, and Yamamoto had made it clear that he was only allowed out of her care when she was satisfied with his recovery, which, she reminded him, involved some active participation on Draco's part. "Like resting when you're supposed to be resting," she chided with a stern look in Potter's direction.

Finally, even Yamamoto couldn't find anything more to fuss about so she went over discharge instructions with Draco– come straight back if the pain returns at any level or if he has any difficulty breathing. No flying or other strenuous activity (again, a stern look in Potter's direction which had Draco stifling his laughter at Harry's face) for at least 48 hours.

"Where are you heading to?" she asked, leading them through a corridor to a room full of fireplaces.

"Hogsmeade. The Hog's Head Inn," Draco replied.

"Got it," Yamamoto took a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the flames. "Off you go then. BEHAVE," she added with a good-natured grin at the pair of them, and Draco decided that he liked her. He could hear his father's voice in his head scrutinizing her hair and her demeanor– she somehow managed to give off a cheerful vibe even while scolding him– but Lucius could go to hell with his judgment and his stupid opinions. Yamamoto was alright.

They stepped out of the Hog's Head fireplace and Draco told Potter to go on up and he would meet him after a quick word with Aberforth. Potter gave him a strange look before reluctantly heading towards the stairs while Draco made his way through the various patrons, determined not to screw this up.

"Hey kid," Aberforth greeted him, "How you feeling? Potter said you've been sick the past couple of days."

"Better now," Draco replied, swallowing the urge to be annoyed with Potter for sharing his personal information. Aberforth is okay. He's your... boss? Friend? Whatever. You can trust him. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening," Aberforth smiled down at him. He rarely smiled, but when he did, it was genuine– he and Draco were alike in this way.

"The holiday rush is here," Draco inclined his head to Aberforth's bustling bar. To Draco's immense pride, there were several foreign guests staying as well– once word started getting out that the Hog's Head was open to the international community, Draco's workload had slowly started increasing. "Looks like you could use some help."

Aberforth straightened up, crossing his arms and looking down at Draco, thoughtful. Draco could almost imagine this would be the sort of look he might receive from a father or uncle...

"Yeah, okay kid," Aberforth agreed, nodding slowly. "Looking to earn a few extra galleons? We can do that, I could use an extra hand. We're not starting now, though, kid, you look like you could use a good rest. But come down tomorrow morning if you're up for it, okay?"

"Okay," Draco agreed, "Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"See you. Take it easy," Aberforth replied, turning back to his bar.

Draco wasn't too sure what he was expecting when he entered his room, but a furious-looking Potter certainly wasn't on the top of his list.

"You lied to me," Potter said, sounding hurt and annoyed.

"Wait, what??" Draco racked his brain, trying to think of what on earth Potter could be talking about. "When???"

"Last night!" Potter fumed, "I asked if you were okay, MORE THAN ONCE, and your answer was always yes. Except that no, you weren't."

"What???"

"I was asking for REASON, Draco, if I had known, I wouldn't have stayed up with you!"

"I was okay," Draco retorted.

"No, you weren't. We had to stay an extra day in the stupid hospital and Yamamoto chewed my ear off the whole time you were sleeping!"

Draco sniggered.

"Aw, too bad I missed it."

"It's not funny, Draco."

"But we're here now. I'm fine, you're fine."

Potter took a deep breath and let it out.

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that you lied to me. I asked a question, needing an honest answer, and I didn't receive one."

Draco's response caught in his throat. Potter was right. It had seemed so trivial at the time, insignificant. A Malfoy shows no sign of weakness. But Potter had a point...

"This goes both ways, Potter," Draco said finally, "You weren't exactly having an easy time yourself last night."

"Yes, but you still could have been honest with me!" Potter persisted, "We would have figured it out."

"Really?? How?"

"I don't know! And it doesn't matter!" Potter came across the room now; Draco recoiled on instinct, but Potter's touch was gentle as he took Draco's hands in his. "Hey... I'm sorry I was mad at you... I just... If I had known how bad you were feeling, I would have acted differently."

I'm sorry I was mad at you.

Draco had been taught to do no wrong. Even when you mess up, you change the circumstances to make it so you were right. And you never apologize for something you've done. Apologizing like this means admitting you were wrong. Except that maybe Lucius was the one who was wrong...

"I'm sorry too," Draco said quietly, hoping the stiffness in his voice didn't come across as insincerity. "You're right... but this goes both ways, Potter, I need to know when you're not doing okay yourself..."

"Fair enough," Potter replied, nodding and looking resolved, "Okay. I can do that, or at least, I can try."

"Same." A Malfoy shows no weakness. But maybe this Malfoy can.

"What did you need from Aberforth, if you don't mind sharing?" Potter asked, signifying the end of their argument.

"I'm going to help him out over the break," Draco answered, trying to sound casual and not overly excited or too proud of himself. "The inn is filling up and he could use a hand." And I could use the money.

"He knows you're supposed to take it easy for the next two days, right?" Potter asked.

"I'll be fine–" Draco started, then caught himself, "Well, no, I didn't tell him outright, but I... I can... let him know..."

See?? That wasn't so hard. And it will be just as simple to tell Aberforth tomorrow morning. Potter will probably even beat you to it, but you can do it anyway.

A Malfoy is never wrong, a Malfoy never admits defeat, and a Malfoy never shows any sign of weakness. Having done all three of these things in a terrifyingly short amount of time, Draco was probably now officially the worst Malfoy in the whole history of his entire stupid bloodline. But instead of sinking below, he felt himself rising up higher than he'd ever felt before.

Maybe there really is more than one way to find happiness.