The two cups came floating back and Potter grabbed his as swiftly and elegantly as he always had with the Snitch. Maybe it was a testament of adulthood that Draco could finally admit that without grinding his teeth. Although he was still convinced the word ‘elegant’ had no place anywhere near Potter.
Draco watched as he drank his coffee pensively, his expression turning more serious.
“After the war—”
Oh no.
“—I didn’t really know what to do. Becoming an Auror…it was something that seemed right at the time, you know, when everything was falling apart around me. The thing is, everything kept falling apart, but there was no more war. I had no idea how to deal with that.” Potter put down his cup and from what Draco could see, he started wringing his hands in his lap, his eyes fixed on the table. “As soon as I started training, I realised I wasn’t going to be happy there. But…I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”
“Disappoint?” Draco echoed, furrowing his brows. “As if you could do anything to—”
“That’s exactly the point,” Potter intercepted. “People have this idea of me, this image they created, based on what I did to defeat Voldemort, when in reality…” Potter pressed his lips together. It looked painful. “No matter what I do, it will always be a disappointment. It will never be good enough. Like, can you imagine what would happen if I started telling people I’m not becoming an Auror anymore? The public would go mad! And then there’s other people, like McGonagall.” He let out a sigh. “In fifth year, she vowed to do everything in her power to help me get that job, and she did. What do you think she’s going to say if I told her all her efforts were for nothing? But…I just couldn’t go on like that.”
“So you’re basically lying to everybody?”
Potter’s face twisted and it took a moment before he slowly nodded.
“Do Granger and Weasley know about this?” Draco asked.
“They…They know I’m on sabbatical. We talked about it a few times, and they were really understanding, but…”
“You’re worried you’ll disappoint them, too?”
Potter looked up, his face paler than usual. “It’s not like that with them. I know they’ll support me no matter what. I just—It’s so hard, explaining it to them.”
The following silence felt so pregnant with meaning, it was stifling. Potter, opening up like that, showing Draco all his vulnerabilities…He had no idea how to process that.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked carefully.
“You asked,” Potter shrugged.
“Not really.”
“Look, Draco, it’s not like I enjoy talking about these things, I just—The others…They don’t really get it. I mean, we all lost people, so they understand the grief, but…I just felt lost after the war, and my friends…they didn’t really understand what it was like for me.”
“Oh?” Was Potter implying Draco would understand? He didn’t know how he felt about that.
“Yeah,” Potter murmured. “They didn’t seem to have that much trouble, finding their place. Meanwhile, I’m still struggling every day to just…keep it together.”
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