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Draco shifted in his seat. This conversation felt too meaningful for Potter to have it with him of all people. But, even though he didn’t like it, he had to admit, he did get what Potter was talking about.

“It seems to me, an awfully big part of your life involves pleasing others.” And boy did Draco know what that was like. Even now, with his father in Azkaban, he often caught himself wondering if he would approve of Draco’s actions. It always took a lot to remind himself he wasn’t supposed to care about that anymore.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Potter murmured. “I can’t help it. It’s always been that way.”

“You died for fuck’s sake,” Draco said, irritation flaring up in him. “You died to save all of our arses. You don’t owe anybody anything. If anything, the rest of the world owes you!”

Judging from the look on Potter’s face, he hadn’t expected Draco to say something like that. Honestly, Draco hadn’t expected himself to say something like that. But it was true, wasn’t it? Potter had saved bloody everyone. And now he still felt like he had to do what people expected of him?

Draco sighed, dreading what he was about to say next. “You do realise it wouldn’t be selfish of you to live the life you want for yourself, right?”

Potter’s eyes widened.

“You’re not doing anybody any favours, being all tortured and broken up about it.” As he reached for his cup, Draco made sure his eyes didn’t leave Potter’s. It was harder than he had anticipated. He was being a hypocrite. Because that was exactly what he was doing, but, apparently, he was better at hiding it than Potter. But it wasn’t like he wasn’t working on it. He was trying to be better. It just took time. Apparently.

“I…I haven’t thought of it that way,” Potter said, astonishment written all over his face.

“Well, as my mother always says, you can’t make other people happy if you aren’t truly happy yourself.”

Potter looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent and simply nodded. Draco inwardly snorted. How had this turned into a Mind Healing session? It was utterly absurd.

“Are you happy?” Potter suddenly asked. Draco’s mouth dropped open involuntarily. His instincts told him to reply with something snarky. But…after Potter’s honesty, baring his insecurities, it just didn’t feel right.

“I don’t know,” Draco sighed. “I think I’m happier than I was right after the war.”

He didn’t want to get into too many details. Just because Potter felt comfortable sharing his secrets with Draco, didn’t mean he had to do the same.

“You ever think about getting a job?” Potter asked.

Draco snorted. “As if anyone would employ me.”

“I don’t think it’s like that anymore.”

Draco shrugged. “Be that as it may, I can’t really see myself working for someone. I have my family’s inheritance, which is about the only thing the Ministry didn’t take away from me. I made some investments, so honestly, I don’t need to work.”

Potter seemed to ponder that. “Yeah, but…don’t you want…a purpose? In life?”

Draco sneered, acting as though that was preposterous. Potter didn’t need to know he had been struggling with that for years. Luckily, he had found something to give him purpose.

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