The Space Between

Author’s Note: I haven’t yet decided whether or not to write an alternate ending to Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son using the actual events of Deathly Hallows or not… but in the meantime I’ve had three new ideas for fics (this one included) pop into my head and beg to be written. SO.

This DOES have SPOILERS for DH so please be wary and don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled!


It deals with the first five years (mainly) between the very end of the war and the epilogue that JKR has added. It’s to explain exactly what Harry was up to. I hope you all enjoy it! I’ll eventually be posting a fic that is epilogue compliant and happens after the incident at Platform 9 ¾ while still being Harry/Draco. And one day I’ll also be writing an AS/S fic because they are just too damn cute. I’ve been lured to the dark side I think.

Ah well. Enjoy!!

P.S.: The title is taken from the song by Dave Matthews Band : The Space Between. It’s also a play on many many things, which should become more apparent as the fic progresses. 




The Space Between

Chapter 1 –Some Down Time

August. It was August.

Only a few months had passed since the end of the war and Voldemort’s defeat but it had felt like centuries longer than that to Harry. Yet only some days did it feel so far away.

Others, he woke up screaming from nightmares of having to see his loved ones slain before him as though it had only just happened. As if he had only just lost Fred and Remus and Tonks… And Dobby, Mad-Eye, Hedwig, Colin Creevey… And Snape. Severus Snape… the man he thought he would always hate.

Funny how things like that change.

Harry couldn’t get a hold of his own perception of time. Not for long enough to feel relaxed. He had hoped that with the end of the war and the end of fighting he would be able to rest and enjoy life the way normal teenagers do. He had hoped that he would be able to get back together with Ginny and go back to Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione and pretend that none of it had ever really happened.

But that wasn’t possible, which is something he should have known.

Things never really go according to plan for Harry Potter.

He and his friends were not going to return to Hogwarts. They were not allowed to return once they had knowingly quit, no matter the situation. They were, however, able to take the NEWT exams at the end of the term in order to qualify for work in the Ministry or in other areas. But they could not return as students.

Hermione, naturally, jumped at the chance to take her NEWTs and Mrs. Weasley badgered Ron into doing it as well but Harry had no interest in it. At least not right away. He didn’t want to cram useless knowledge into his head and stress himself out again just to write Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests at the end of the term. Not if he wasn’t going to be getting any of the benefits of being in school.

He could do that later. He wanted to live now that he was alive.

He wanted to experience the world free of the looming threat of death. He wanted to live life to the fullest –pardoning the terrible cliché, of course –and see the world, learn in his own time and literally be free.

Harry wanted freedom of the celebrations. He wanted to get away from the community that practically worships him for having defeated the most evil wizard of all time. They gave him praise and love and doe-eyes. They would separate and leave a path for him in the streets, watching with wide-eyes as their saviour passed by.

He thought that Hogwarts might be free of that, where he could concentrate on studies and Quidditch (something he yearned for so desperately it hurt) and Ginny and his friends. He wouldn’t even mind dealing with Malfoy for that.

But he couldn’t go back to Hogwarts now. He couldn’t be with Ginny until she was done school and so Harry had to keep on living in his gilded cage.

That was when he remembered something from one of the articles on Dumbledore’s life.

He had searched through his scrapbook to find the right one and when he finally came upon the article by Elphias Doge, Harry knew what he must do.

He was going to go on a trip around the world. One just like Dumbledore had intended to before his mother died. It was supposed to be some kind of tradition for witches and wizards once they finished school, wasn’t it?

Sure, Harry hadn’t technically finished his schooling, but he was of age and he thought that he just about deserved to go on vacation for a while.

After all, fighting evil for seventeen years of his life surely merited some down time to relax, did it not?

So there he stood, waiting in the queue at the Department of Magical Travel and Transportation at the Ministry of Magic, hoping to set up a Portkey to take him away from Britain and his war-hero status.

Harry had told Ron and Hermione about this not more than a day earlier. They immediately suggested he wait it out, take his NEWTs with them and then they would all go together. But he refused. He told them he needed this time to be alone and free. He told them that he couldn’t wait for this and, to make up for it, he would write them from every new city and bring them back many pleasant and terribly tacky souvenirs.

Yet as he remembered the conversation, he also remembered the heaving punch he felt to his gut from the knowledge that he did not have his faithful owl Hedwig with him anymore. He couldn’t simply send off a letter to whomever and know that it would arrive safely. The memory of her snow-white feathers as she perched on his arm before taking slight brought something large and obstructive to his throat.

“Next!” a cold and distant voice echoed through the sterile room.

Harry snapped back to attention and stepped forward. The rumpled little witch in front of him rushed to the teller and he stood behind the designated yellow line, awaiting his own turn.

His thoughts then drifted back to the Burrow. He thought of Ginny and how her eyes had glinted strangely at his news. She seemed to feel strangely about the matter. It was as though she was happy for him and excited at the prospect of an adventure like that one, but desperately wanted to join him. She seemed both jealous and pleased. Both disappointed and eager.

He promised her the same thing as Ron and Hermione, but also made one extra. He promised her that they would be together once he returned. That they could move forward and be happy and…

He promised something else as well.

“Of course, if you’ll have me… I mean,” Harry had stammered, realising too late that the words had escaped his mouth.

“Oh, Harry,” Ginny had said. His face was flushed and his heart was racing at the prospect of rejection but she then flung her arms around him and kissed him so passionately that he thought he might faint afterwards.

Even standing in the queue, he felt himself smile goofily and tilt his head to the side. He might have whispered her name aloud, but he couldn’t be sure. A moment later, his daydream was interrupted by an unexpected snort from somewhere behind him.

“Next!” another voice called out. Harry shook himself of the pleasant memories and rushed forward to the teller.

The man was old and thin, his face wrinkled to the point that his eyes hardly seemed open at all. His hair was wiry and grey and the oval glasses he wore were balancing dangerously on the very tip of his nose.

“Er, hi,” Harry said awkwardly, noticing the man’s lack of acknowledgement. According to the little plaque in front of him, his name was Gallahad Williams. Harry blinked at the name and ran his fingers distractedly through his hair.

The little man looked up at him, contorting his face to see through the glasses and then his eyes went round as disks (which was a difficult feat with all the wrinkles) with the familiar recognition that Harry had come to dislike.

“Merlin’s beard,” the man whispered in awe. “How can I help you today, Mr. Potter?”

“Well I’d like to go on a trip around the world,” Harry began awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how to go about the whole thing, now that he thought of it.

“Ah, one of the Young Witches and Wizards of Britain tours, I imagine?” Mr. Williams asked, an odd smile on his face as his eyes returned to their former shape.

“Er…” Harry shifted awkwardly. He had no clue.

“Those tours are set up for young wizards, like yourself, who are just out of Hogwarts,” the man explained. “And wish to travel the globe before becoming immersed in the tedious world of every day business. I take it that is what you are after?”

“Well, sort of,” he admitted. “I really just want an escape for a while.”

The man leaned over the counter and smiled with crooked teeth at Harry as though he knew the idea all-too well.

“Completely understandable, Mr. Potter,” he agreed with a nod. “I daresay you’ve earned a little holiday after all you’ve done for the wizarding world.”

“Er, thanks,” he answered, unsure of what he should reply. The man pulled out a number of brochures from some unseen drawer in front of him and highlighted some of the tours that might be more suited to Harry.

“There is the European tour,” Williams explained. “Which will take you to all the major cities in the Magical European Union. The tour guides have a full six month tour booked and planned out and you’ll be joining a group. There’s also the British Isles tour, which is also in a group and that’s only a month long. There is the Eastern European Tour, which also goes to Russia, and that’s three months long in a group. Then there’s the East-Asia tour group which might be nice. That one is four months long. The trip to the Americas involved both North and South America and lasts a full year to see all the major cities in Canada, the United States, Mexico and South America. Those seats in those groups fill fast though so there might not be a position for you.”

And the man went on and on for ages, detailing each and every tour and their carefully laid out plans and schedules. Harry shifted and frowned at the brochures noticing two key points that bothered him greatly. The tours were already organized and planned –which eliminated the sense of adventure when you don’t know where you’ll head to next –and they were all in groups.

Harry was in no mood to be surrounded by a large number of young magical tourists that would likely gawk more at him and the scar on his forehead than at the acclaimed sights that they would be visiting. And he was NOT about to spend his vacation recounting his “terrible” defeat of Lord Voldemort and having to relive every minute detail of the struggles he went through with his friends and loved ones.

No sir.

“Er, aren’t there any trips that aren’t already laid out?” Harry inquired, hoping he wasn’t being terribly rude by interrupting the old and apparently zealous old man. Williams looked up at him in confusion for a moment.

“Eh?” he said. “Why yes, yes of course, there’s the Young Dragon Slayer’s tour, which brings you to all the major Dragon Keeping countries in Europe and Asia, allowing you entrance to their habitat zones. Don’t let the name fool you, they don’t actually slay the Dragons, they simply learn to contain them.” Harry supposed that his displeasure with the idea showed on his face because Williams quickly turned to a different brochure. “Or else there is the Lands of our Fathers tour which brings you to select cities around the world known for their decorated history.” Harry supposed Hermione would enjoy that one very much.

“What about that one?” Harry finally said, pointing to a massive poster on the wall behind Williams. The poster was of a young adventurer type, looking up at the sky with a map of the world behind him and a curly green font scrawled out the words “Pave Your Own Road to Adventure: The Philosopher’s Tour”.

Williams looked back behind him to see what Harry was pointing to, before turning briskly back around and shaking his head.

“Oh no, Mr. Potter,” he declined. “We do not advise this tour for first time travellers like yourself. It is much too unsafe.”

Harry frowned. Was he man being serious?

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Harry told him, his voice rather cutting. “But after waging war against Voldemort and having to face my own death, what could possibly make you think that it would be more dangerous for me to travel the world without a planned schedule?”

The entire room when dead quiet. Harry had never mentioned to the press before that he had faced his own death that night. They stared at him and Mr. Williams swallowed hard, looking rather sheepish.

“Yes, yes of course,” he agreed, looking away from Harry and arranging his papers. “Though you cannot take this tour completely alone.”

“Why not?” Harry snapped, feeling more and more aggravated by the minute.

“It is International Wizarding Decree,” Williams replied quietly. “Travellers under the age of twenty-one taking this tour must register themselves with the Ministry in a group of two or more. It is a manner of keeping tabs on witches and wizards who travel to very obscure areas.”

“Why? What does it matter?” Harry asked further, wishing the man would just be straight with him. “I’m of age here anyway! Why do I have to be twenty-one?!”

“The age of majority is different in different countries, Mr. Potter. We must adhere to the age of majority for the world as a whole,” Williams explained. “And as for the relevance, during the first war against darkness, there were many young witches and wizards who chose this tour and travelled to uncommon areas of the world. There were hundreds of disappearances and many of those that vanished were never seen again. Since your first defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Ministries around the world came together to arrange a law that prevented solitary travel. It was only for the protection of wizards, Mr. Potter.”

“But Voldemort is gone now!” Harry exclaimed. “What is there to fear?”

“There are still followers at large,” Mr. Williams said. “And laws do not change in a single day, I’m afraid.” He looked genuinely sorry. “It’s the only way, Mr. Potter. I can do nothing but my job. If you want to take this tour, you’ll have to find yourself a travel buddy. ”

Harry sighed heavily and racked his mind for either a way around the stupid law or else someone he could hoodwink into leaving with him. Of course then he would have to find a way to send them back without the Portkey. Was that at all underhanded? Was it really something Harry was willing to do? Perhaps if he just transfigured a rock into a human-looking thing he could take the impostor with him and ditch the rock once he got there.

Harry was snapped out of his musings, fighting with the incredibly flawed plans that were spinning themselves, by an exclamation from down the counter in a very familiar voice.

“What do you MEAN I can’t travel alone?! I’ve never heard of that law before! My father did this very tour entirely on his own, as did my grandfather. It’s tradition in my family!”

Harry froze and fought very hard not to roll his eyes. He turned slowly to let his eyes travel down the length of the counter until his sights fell upon the source of the outburst.

-It bloody well figures.-

Draco Malfoy was glaring angrily at the little witch behind the counter, who had clearly never met the ire of the Malfoy clan before today. She was stuttering and shaking like a leaf while Malfoy threatened to have her sacked and many other empty threats that Harry wasn’t entirely sure were impossible for a Malfoy.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered. “I’m just doing my job I –”

“Your job??” the Slytherin sneered. “You realize you only have a job because my father demanded the Minister arrange for more clerks so that he didn’t have to queue along with common travellers?! You are only here because my family made it so.”

“I –I …”

Harry had seen enough.

“Your family should realize they’ve been kicked off their precious pedestal, Malfoy.” Harry snapped down the hall. “You are in no position to be boasting.”

Malfoy froze as he stared at the girl in front of him before turning his icy stare down to meet Harry’s eyes. Harry shivered involuntarily as his old school rival looked at him. He was not sneering at Harry at all. He was not glaring or shooting daggers… but his eyes were suddenly distant and cold.

“Oh, so you know each other!” Williams piped in before anyone else could talk. Harry was caught off-guard. “And Mr. Malfoy here seems to want to take the same tour as yourself, Mr. Potter. Why it seems as though this is the perfect solution to both your problems!”

Harry wasn’t sure if it had actually just happened or not. Had someone really suggested that it was a POSITIVE thing that Malfoy and he might be forced to travel together?

It was laughable.

If they ever did, Harry supposed it would bring about the end of the world in some manner. Either by his killing Malfoy and then having to deal with his family or else…

No, no that was the only possible outcome.

Before Harry could even express the absolute absurdity of the suggestion to Williams, he had already ushered Malfoy over to where Harry was standing and begun drawing up papers. When Harry came back to himself, he realized that Malfoy seemed to be just as dumbfounded by the whole ordeal as he was.

“Now, you are both of age, correct?” the old man asked.

“Yes, but –” Harry tried to interrupt.

“And you plan to take the Philosopher’s Tour, correct?” he pressed on, ignoring Harry’s protests.

“Yes, of course, but –” Malfoy tried to interrupt as well, but to no avail.

“And how long do you plan to make your trip?” Williams continued without looking up once from his paper. “Three, six, nine or twelve months?”

“Nine,” Harry and Malfoy both responded in unison, much to their dismay. They glared at one another for a moment.

“Excellent,” Williams proclaimed. “And what country would you like to visit first so that I may set up the Portkey?”

“Italy,” they both answered. Harry felt more and more disturbed by the minute and shifted angrily next to Malfoy.

“But I don’t want to travel with him!” Harry told Williams before he could plan out any more.

“You are not my ideal companion either, Potter, I promise you,” Malfoy sneered.

“Good,” he replied. “Then we’re agreed. We don’t travel together.”

“Then I’m afraid you don’t travel at all,” Williams interrupted. Harry frowned again.

“This is bollocks,” Malfoy proclaimed. Harry ignored him.

“Honestly, boys,” Williams began. “You both want to travel for the same length of time. You both want to book the same tour. You both want to start in the same country and frankly, you both know each other, so what exactly is the problem?”

“We hate each other,” they both answered together, again. This time, however, there was something Harry couldn't identify hidden in the timbre of Malfoy's voice.

Harry was getting quite sick of that.

“Are you both really willing to ruin your chances of taking such a fantastic trip as this one because of one insignificant detail?” the old man asked in earnest.

Harry couldn’t believe the man thought that their being archrivals actually qualified as insignificant, but one some level, old Gallahad Williams was right. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin his chances of going on this trip.

Even if that meant having to spend some time with Malfoy. After all, they didn’t have to spend the whole time together. They simply needed to meet in order to travel to the next city. They could spend all their time in the actual country alone. It wasn’t all that difficult.

“Alright, fine,” Harry conceded.

“Wonderful!” Williams cried, clapping his hands and finished the form for them to sign.

“Excuse me??” Malfoy interrupted. “You realize that I have to agree as well.”

“Oh come on, Malfoy,” Harry replied, signing his name on the form. “It’s not as though we have to spend all our time together. This is the only way we can get there, then fine.”

Malfoy’s lip curled into a snarl and he snatched the quill from Harry’s hand to sign his own name on the parchment. The slightly slanted, elegant lettering of the blonde’s name contrasted rather nicely to Harry’s uneven scrawl. He was almost amused by the thought that they were completely opposite in every way.

“Excellent,” the old man repeated. “Both of you need only to show up tomorrow morning at eleven a.m. sharp to receive your Portkey. Don’t be late!”

Harry didn’t wait for Malfoy to say anything, he simply nodded then turned to leave. As he exited the Department of Magical Travel and Transportation, he heard a sarcastic remark behind him.

“Well this is starting out well,” Malfoy’s voice echoed, dripping with disdain at Harry’s abrupt departure.

What had he expected? Harry to turn around and take his arm so that they could discuss how to best coordinate their outfits?

Harry shook his head and Apparated back to the small flat he’d rented in London. Grimmauld Place was still under the power of the Fidelius Charm and as more and more of the secret keepers had been killed, the magic around it had become too unstable for Harry to live there. Hermione had promised to help him identify a charm breaker, but only after she had taken her NEWTs.

In the meantime, Harry lived in a small flat on the top floor of a five storey building with no lifts. It was a one-bedroom with little room to entertain, but Harry liked it. Besides, he didn’t have many people to entertain there anyway.

He dropped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments before realizing that if he was going to leave tomorrow morning, he had a lot of packing to do.

He laid out all the clothes he owned, that were not previously owned by his cousin Dudley, and picked up odd objects he wanted to take with him. He had his father’s Invisibility Cloak, naturally, as it was indispensable. As he felt the silvery fabric, his heart wrenched at the memory of how this one simple object, along with it’s three counterparts, made up the mystical power of the Deathly Hallows and had brought about so much havoc.

He shook the memory off and folded the cloak next to his shirts. Then he picked up his wands. He examined his own Holly-made wand and placed it in his pocket. Then he picked up the Hawthorn wand that he had forcibly taken from Malfoy not so very long ago.

Harry’s lips curled into a smirk and he packed that wand as well. He liked to carry it around with him whenever he went out. He had learned that, after his trip to Godric’s Hollow, it was a good idea to carry a spare.

Plus he could always use it to annoy Malfoy if he needed to.

And finally Harry picked up a camera. He lifted it to his eye to look at the lens and a sad smile drew itself on his face.

This camera had belonged to Colin Creevey. After the boy’s funeral, his parents had met with Harry and offered it to him as a way to remember Colin. They assured him that he would have wanted Harry to have it.

He hadn’t felt comfortable taking it but they insisted. And he was glad to have it. He had small mementos from each of his friends that had been killed and he would never forget a single one of them.

He packed the camera away carefully and shrunk the trunk down enough to carry in his rucksack. He had Hermione place an expanding charm on the sack as well, but preferred not to feel the full weight of the trunk on his back at any given time.

Then Harry went to sleep. He would sent an owl to the Weasleys and Hermione from the Ministry tomorrow to inform them of the plans. Other than that, he had nothing else to worry about.

Except, perhaps how he would deal with Malfoy for nine months.

--O—O—O—O—O—

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of what I hope to be many. Naturally I’m going to explain what happens between the ending of Deathly Hallows and the “Nineteen Years Later” bit. I haven’t totally decided whether or not this is going to be epilogue compliant or not, but we’ll have to wait and see! Anyway I hope you enjoyed it so far! I’ve been tweaking it all day and I’m still not 100% satisfied but it will do for now.

I will also be writing in Draco’s perspective. The difference will be (most likely) that Draco’s parts will be written in the first person, because I cannot resist. But for now it stays Harry… because I need it to. Baha.

Reviews are love! And also keep me posting of course ;)