Empty Spaces

Chapter 34

"What the hell... Tuesday and Friday...?"

"Got it. You want Saturday or Sunday?"

"Sunday...?

"Good. See you Tuesday," Aberforth shut his ledger book and retreated behind the bar.

School started uneventfully the next day: Hermione was back, so she accompanied Harry and Draco all the way to Potions, commenting on how nice Draco's winter things looked on him which earned her a jealous side-eye from Harry that had Draco peeling in silent laughter. She took off for her usual table, while Draco and Harry went to theirs; Holmberg collected their essays and gave out the day's assignment. Nothing was out of the ordinary and nothing had changed.

So why were Draco's school robes hanging so heavily on his shoulders? He hadn't noticed it at first, but by the time he reached his last class, Draco was in agony. His quills burned at his fingers; the words in his schoolbooks were blurring before his eyes; the strap on his satchel prickled into his shoulder like needles. By the time he met Harry after classes, it was taking all of Draco's self-control not to collapse on the ground. But he was a Malfoy, trained since birth to hide pain and save face, so he shoved it all down deep inside and greeted his boyfriend with an affectionate embrace.

"Let's go," Draco said, desperate to escape from the invisible ropes pulling tighter with every breath he took.

"Someone's excited to get away," Harry teased, "Was Arithmancy really that bad? Or are you just looking forward to something else?"

"Something else," Draco whispered in Harry's ear, "Come on."

The moment Draco took off his school robe and dropped his bag on the table was like breaking through the surface of the water, taking a desperate breath of fresh air. And he began to understand: Now that he knew what freedom felt like– true freedom, unburdened, without condition or obligation– he could feel the contrast... He hadn't noticed it before because it had always been there, but now that he'd had a taste of life without it, the stark difference was terrifying and real.

Would it have been better to have stayed oblivious? Because now that he'd started, there was no turning back. He would have to somehow replace all of his school things, because there was no way he could finish the term like this. Or he could drop out. None of these were particularly appealing options, and for the first time, Draco felt regret for what he'd done. Had Lucius been right...? Would Draco cave under the pressure, not from Lucius, but from the daily necessities of simply living life?

"You okay?" Harry's voice sliced through Draco's thoughts, "Did something happen today?"

"No," Draco replied absently, thinking through his options, "No, everything's fine..."

"Draco..." Harry began hesitantly before gaining traction, "If something's going on, I'd like to know. I've been trying to give you your space because believe me, I know how much it sucks to have people prodding at you, saying crap like 'talking about it will make you feel better,' because that's bullshit. You know it and I know it. But I also know that keeping secrets isn't good either. I'm your boyfriend. Whatever's going on, I want to know and I want to help."

"It's nothing," Draco lied. Well, it wasn't quite a lie, he just didn't finish his sentence, that's all: It's nothing you need to worry about . "Just trying to figure out work and school. It'll be a lot, but it'll be okay." That much was true.

Harry continued to look suspicious, so Draco took it upon himself to ease Harry's concerns by taking his lover to bed with him, and by the time evening came around, neither of them had any cares left in the whole damn world.

Aberforth flat out refused to take Draco's offer to work any additional days, so Draco began his search elsewhere and eventually landed a job at Gladrags. Harry raised an eyebrow at this, but accepted that Draco was going to do what Draco was going to do, and so began the second term of school.

Seeing as he wore it all day, Draco decided he should replace his school uniform first. He sent Merlin for a mail-order form from Madam Malkin's, only to discover that it would take him over a month to earn enough. He could go with something secondhand, except that would involve doing it, and for the second time, Draco felt the burden of regret for what he had gotten himself into. He was exhausted, and with a growing list of things he would need to replace, the harsh bitterness of reality was beginning to close down on him. Lucius had warned him, had he not?? And Draco hadn't listened.

There was really only one option now. A Malfoy never admits defeat. But this one was about to.

It was a slow Sunday– Aberforth had been right, the inn actually was less busy now that the holidays were over. Despite Draco's halfhearted protests (he really did enjoy the company), Harry had moved in at the front desk and was now starting to work on his Potions essay. Draco still hadn't said anything to Harry, but he'd made up his mind: Tomorrow, he would go to McGonagall's office and officially resign from school. He would work at the inn and the clothing shop, save up as much as he could, and then... then who knows? But he would be free.

"You should get started, too," Harry said, flipping through his book, "Nobody's here now. Then we can go out after your shift..."

"No... I..." Draco began, unsure how to start. Harry put down his quill and gave him a piercing look, green eyes blazing.

"Come on, Malfoy," Harry said, and Draco's heart clenched the use of his surname. "Out with it. What have you been keeping from me?"

"I'm not going back to school." It sounded like someone else speaking with his voice.

"I'm sorry, come again??"

Draco wasn't sure what sort of reaction he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it.

"I'm not going back to school," he repeated.

"What the fuck, Malfoy," Harry closed his book, "When on earth did you decide this???"

Draco didn't say anything, but his silence was enough.

"Probably weeks ago, is that right? And you're only just saying something now...?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I hadn't made up my mind before," Draco answered, getting defensive, "And what's it to you??"

"Do you really want me to answer that question here?" Harry retorted, no longer attempting to keep his voice down, "Because I can–"

They were interrupted by Aberforth's imposing figure suddenly looming overhead.

"Slow day today, kid, you can go ahead and clock out early."

"No, I can finish–" Draco started to protest.

"Nothing doing," Aberforth dismissed, "And don't worry, I'll still put it down for the full day. Go take a break. See you Tuesday."

Draco reluctantly gathered his school things while Harry packed up his essay; they ascended the stairs and once the door to his flat was properly closed, Draco closed in.

"What the FUCK, Potter!? You just got me in trouble at work!"

"ME!?" Harry fumed back, "I'm not the one keeping secrets and then dropping them like it's nobody's business!"

"It's NOT your business!"

"Seeing as we're fucking just about every night, I would say that these things ARE my business!"

"Just because I'm sleeping with you suddenly makes you privy to every single fucking thing I do!? Sorry, Potter, I didn't know that was included in the terms and conditions of having sex with you," Draco spat out, hating himself for what he'd just said.

"Fucking... just... shut the fuck up for one second!" Harry paced, collecting himself. "Draco, just... just answer me this, what the FUCK happend that would make YOU suddenly want to drop out of school???"

The world came to a standstill.

"I can't do it," Draco said at last, sinking down onto the floor, "My fucking father was right..."

"Right about what?" Harry asked.

"Everything..."