Empty Spaces

Chapter 46

Draco felt the color spreading across his face.

"We're just dating," he managed to say, hoping beyond hope that she was keeping these comments to herself in her conversations with Harry. "If, and that's a big if, IF we ever get to that point, I promise you that we will figure it out..."

"I suppose if you adopt two sons–"

"Who said anything about adopting sons?? We're JUST. DATING."

"Draco, my love, don't you find it a bit improper to court someone if you don't intend to marry him? What does this 'just dating' mean? What have those Muggle-lovers taught you at that school?? That commitment means nothing?"

"What!?"

"Harry is a wonderful boy from an ancient bloodline, and I expect only the best from a Malfoy," Narcissa said chidingly. "I'm not sure what this 'just dating' means, but matters of the heart are not to be taken lightly. Those Muggles who go from one suitor to the next, with no sense of honor... A mother can only hope that she's raised you better than that."

Draco couldn't respond. All his life, he'd been terrified of what his parents' reaction might be when the time came that they uncovered his deepest secret... Apparently, he'd been worried about the wrong thing. Narcissa didn't seem to give two shits about the fact that Draco was dating a man; on the contrary, she was practically ready to start planning his wedding.

"I suppose things are done differently now," Narcissa mused. "When I was your age, I was already married to your father... Strange how much the world can change in just one lifetime. Only one generation and all family values gone up in smoke. Promises mean nothing and honor is just surface deep. I'm sorry, my love, I know that's not how you are... But... a mother worries so..."

Her voice was softening as the protective walls began to melt away. Narcissa lived her life hidden behind the safety of her status and fortune; it was the place where nothing could reach her and no one could hurt her. Draco thought he'd caught a glimpse of her vulnerability only once before, the night he told her about Harry. Now he could see the subtle change happening in front of him. This wasn't Lady Malfoy or Narcissa. This was his mother.

"I cannot even imagine what you must think of me," she said sadly. "An ignorant woman who knows nothing of the world. A loveless marriage and upholding the family name, that is all I know and all I have ever known. But there is one thing of which I am certain, and that is my love for you. The only love in my life, the only reason I have been able catch a glimpse of what true happiness feels like. I may have never heard of a wizard courting– or– what is it you are doing, 'dating?' Never heard of this 'dating' either, but I've also never heard of a wizard courting another wizard. And yet, this is what makes you happy, truly happy. I see your eyes when you speak of your intended. I see your smile. I see his face when he looks at you when he thinks nobody is looking. Love is love, is it not? Forgive an ignorant mother, my precious son. Harry is a darling boy. I grant you my blessing to court him, but I know that's not how things are done these days and I don't know what else I can do to show you..."

"Nothing else," Draco crossed the empty space between them and pulled his mother into his arms. Years ago– a lifetime, it seemed– she had been the one to comfort him. Now, he was the one who held her; he could feel her body shaking as the tears fell onto his shoulder despite her best efforts to hide them. Draco felt his conscience clenching up inside: She had, after all, in her own strange and roundabout way, accepted him for who he was. He could do the same for her.

Unconditional.

"I love you too, Mother," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, dear," she sniffled, wiping her eyes as she pulled away. "I'm sorry you have to see this, I shouldn't–"

"No, no, it's okay," Draco found himself saying. "You're my mother. I'm here to help you."

"I know," she collected herself and retreated further to look fondly upon her son, tears still glistening upon her cheeks, "Such a good boy, you always were. I don't need anything though, dear, just knowing that you are happy is enough for me."

"But how are you doing ?" Draco worried aloud, "The healers say they've been helping you, that you're doing okay on your own... the house is impeccable again, everything is back to how it was before, sort of, but are you happy?" He couldn't believe that he'd been there for almost an entire week and never once bothered to ask directly. Unconditional. She loves you without conditions, not despite them. You can– and should– do the same for her.

Narcissa looked at him with a mixture of sadness and affection.

"Draco, my love... Happiness is a luxury not granted to people like me." She said it so simply, as if she were pointing out the weather. "But I have no complaints. I was able to manage before, with your father, and I am managing now without him. What's done is done, and all that's left to do is move forward. Oh! Tea! I'm so sorry, dear, for bringing you into the troubles of an ignorant woman. Why don't you go to your appointment now, before Harry arrives? Then we will have all afternoon together..." And Narcissa was back in her safe place, hiding behind her name and status, gone to the place where she could be neither happy nor unhappy but a predictable in-between.

Figuring that he might as well get it over with, Draco changed his shirt and headed out to the Ministry office– maybe he could weasel something out of Ironbark while they were alone. Except that instead of Ironbark, there was someone new: A bored-looking, middle-aged witch recorded Draco's wearabouts for the day, leaving Draco wondering whether something happened to Ironbark or if they simply missed each other because it was so early. Unable to shed the feeling of unease, he headed back to the Manor with a growing sense of foreboding. Something was happening just below the surface, something he could feel but not see, and it didn't sit well with him.

Unable to do anything but wait for events to unfold, Draco spent the afternoon with his mother. Determined to show his own unconditional love and support for her, he asked careful questions and tried his best not to scoff or immediately dismiss everything she had to say. Normally, he would have tuned Narcissa out the moment the words "Muggle-Born Registration Mandate" left her mouth, but he could practically hear Hermione's voice in his head:

Prejudice goes both ways.

True, she held many beliefs that, by now, Draco wholeheartedly disagreed with. But just below the surface lay a deep love for children. Devotion to family; not just her own, but the whole concept in general. And, despite the constant downplaying of her own intelligence, her vast knowledge of wizarding history was undeniably impressive– biased, to be sure, but impressive nonetheless.

Unconditional.

And Draco, for the first time in his life, felt himself beginning to understand. He didn't have to agree with her on anything, but he could love her nonetheless. Then Harry showed up and Draco felt the familiar jump in his heart as he looked into those green eyes– the feeling of endless, soaring possibility but also a feeling of grounded practicality. After eight years, Draco was fully aware that Harry was no perfect person– as if anyone was!-- but as he embraced his boyfriend in the shadow of his former house and former life, Draco was struck with a sudden realization.

It has a name– this feeling. It's not about meeting an expectation or fulfilling a duty or checking a box on a list of requirements... It's fluid and changing and adapting and accepting and always in motion, but the one thing that's stable about all of this is that it's unconditional. As in: Without conditions. Not despite them.

"Hi, hey, nice to see you too!" Harry grinned, pulling back, "You doing okay? You're making a weird face."

I love you.

"Yeah, I just missed you," Draco replied, keeping his revelation to himself and wondering whether Harry suspected anything.

I love you...

He wouldn't say anything, not yet. He wasn't ready for that. But it was strangely comforting to know that in this dark and crazy world where nothing was as it seemed and nothing worked out the way you wanted it to, there was this tiny glimmer of hope tucked away deep inside his heart: I love you. Could you love me?