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Harry loved the States for a lot of reasons; it was way easier to disappear here than in England; even if people knew his name, they were way less likely to recognize his face; you could basically pick any climate that you wanted and find a place that suited you; and lots of other weird things.
But mostly he loved road trips.
He loved the entire concept behind getting in a car and just driving. The road unfurling endlessly in front of him, windows down, radio turned up and blaring whatever struck his fancy. With Max in the car beside him, wagging his tail and sticking his head out of the window, Harry felt practically weightless.
“Alright, buddy,” he told the pittie when he pulled over to grab some breakfast at a little diner, “You hang out in the back, yeah?” he asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to the broad bridge of his nose. “Go on,” he said, nudging him toward the back that Harry had magically enlarged and turned into a comfortable living space.
Muggles had campers and rvs but with a little bit of magic, the beaten up Subaru served him just fine.
He got out and hit the lock button, listening to the satisfying little beep as he headed toward the diner, catching up his curls and tying them into a loose messy bun on top of his head.
The diner was cute, all red and white checkered decorations and a counter with spinny stools. Harry sat down at one and grabbed a menu, perusing and trying to decide what to order when he heard the crash of something being dropped to the ground and breaking.
His head snapped up and he blinked, wondering if it had been too long since he’d gone to sleep because he had to be hallucinating. “Malfoy?” he spluttered.
But before the other man could respond there was a shout from the kitchen in the back, “Damn it! You clumsy, stupid ass!” the man shouted and Harry felt himself recoiling from the anger in his voice. “You’ll be paying for that!”
“Yes, sir!” Malfoy shouted back, bending over and hastily sweeping up the pieces.
“Well don’t mess around with that now!” he shouted. “You’ve got a customer, you worthless piece of-” his voice trailed off as he slammed a door in the back but Harry could fill in the rest.
“Malfoy?” he repeated as the man in question stepped over to him. “How on earth did you find me?” he asked.
“You found me, Potter,” he snapped. “Not the other way around. Now what can I get you?”
“You actually work here?” Harry asked in befuddlement.
Malfoy gritted his teeth, “Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t be wearing this stupid apron and I wouldn’t be getting screamed at by the arsehole that owns this place. What can I get you?” he repeated.
“Umm,” he said, glancing down at the menu, “I will definitely have a cup of coffee. And then maybe the first special on your board with scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast,” he said. “And also grape jelly, if you have it.”
“Got it,” Malfoy replied, scribbling on the ticket. “Coming right up.”
He spun on his heel and strut off before Harry could say anything more and Harry just stared after him, wondering if he was dreaming.
Malfoy was back a few minutes later with a mug and a coffee pot, filling Harry’s cup and sliding it over to him.
“Thanks,” Harry said, reaching for the sugar. “What are you-”
“Look,” Malfoy hissed, leaning over and keeping his voice low, “Please do not blow this for me. I know that you have no reason to help me but I really need this job, Potter.”
Harry blinked and by the time he’d unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Malfoy was gone again.
It wasn’t long before the other man emerged once more, carrying Harry’s plate of breakfast. “Here you go,” he said as he set it down and slid a couple of grape jelly packets toward him. “Enjoy. Do you need a warm up on your coffee?”
“Uhh,” Harry replied, glancing at his half full cup, “Sure.”
Malfoy nodded and grabbed the pot to refill his cup.
“When do you get off work?” Harry found himself asking.
The other man’s brow furrowed, “Why?”
He shrugged as he slathered jelly onto his toast, “Thought it might be nice to catch up.”
“To catch up?” Malfoy repeated. “Is that code for-”
“Hear about your life,” Harry supplied.
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed, “Fine. I get off at 10:00. If you pretend that you are just a customer passing through I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
“Done,” Harry replied easily. “So what touristy shite is there to do in this town until 10:00 am?”
—————–
After he finished breakfast, Harry ended up just taking Max for a walk and then to the dog park to chase a ball around him. He’d worked hard to train him the first few months after he’d found him abandoned, tied up to a dumpster and all but starving. And Max had learned quickly, mastering basic commands in no time which was for the best, since people took one look at him and decided he was scary.
He wasn’t, he was a sweet boy who loved people and who loved to play but it didn’t seem to make any difference. Still, once he was trained, Harry had started taking him to the park and he wouldn’t let other people bully them out.
Around 9:30, they headed back to the diner and Harry settled Max into the back, making sure his water bowl was full before he climbed back out of the car and leaned against the hood, waiting.
Malfoy emerged a few minuted after 10:00, looking a bit disheveled in his black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and immediately lit up a cigarette before looking around and spotting Harry. His eyebrows rose like he was surprised to see him before he squared his shoulders and made his way toward him.
“Hey,” Harry said, straightening up as Malfoy approached him.
Malfoy blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, “Hey?” he asked. “Is that really what you have to say to me?” He shook his head, “Just get it over with Potter,” he said. “If you want to gloat just fucking gloat so I can move on and go get my groceries.”
“I don’t want to gloat,” Harry protested.
“What do you want, then?” he asked scathingly.
And that was the question, wasn’t it? What did Harry want? “Why are you working here?” he asked.
Malfoy rolled his eyes as he exhaled another puff of smoke, “It’s amazing where you end up when you’re a convicted death eater whose wand is monitored,” he replied. “Then add to that the fact that it didn’t seem to matter where I got myself set up in muggle London, someone found me and within hours I’d lose whatever job I’d been working. So here I am, just trying to get by and who should appear but the savior himself,” he said with a little mock bow. “I should just put my two weeks in here now, at least-”
“I’m not going to tell anyone you’re here,” Harry said quickly.
“Right,” he huffed sarcastically.
“I’m not,” he argued, “Because if I told them where you are, they’d know where I’ve been.”
“You’re running away too?” Malfoy asked, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at Harry in surprise.
“Obviously,” Harry replied. “Come on,” he said after a moment. “Your feet must be killing you. I’m sure that arsehole doesn’t give you breaks,” he added as he opened the hatch.
“You want me to climb into the trunk of your car?”
He rolled his eyes, “I know you think I’m an idiot,” he said, “But I’m less of one than you think. Just,” he crawled in and stood up, “come on.”
After a moment Malofy followed him through but before anything else could happen Max bounded over and all but climbed onto Malfoy’s lap.
“Max-” he started to scold before Malfoy started talking over him.
“Oh, hello you sweet baby,” he said, pulling Max further onto his lap so he could pet him better and scratch his neck. They looked ridiculous, Max was almost as big as Malfoy, but there he sat anyway, “hello. Aren’t you a lovie?” he asked. “Yes you are. You’re a giant lovie,” he said.
And in that moment, Harry’s mind was made up. “Have you ever gone on a road trip?” he asked.
Malfoy looked up at him and Max licked a stripe up his cheek. He laughed and stroked his side, “What?” he asked.
“Have you ever gone on a road trip?” Harry repeated.
“What is that?”
“Like a really long drive,” he said. “Where you just get in your car and drive and stop for food when you want to and sleep when you want to.” He scratched the back of his neck, “Max and I are headed to California to see the giant redwoods.”
“That sounds nice for the two of you,” Malfoy replied, steadily patting Max.
“Come with us,” Harry said.
The other man blinked. “Sorry?”
“Just,” he shrugged, “What else do you have here?”
“A job-”
“That you hate.”
“A flat-”
“That is probably smaller than this,” he said gesturing to the space they were sitting in.
“What happens when you get sick of me?”
He shook his head, “Come on. Just come with us. If I kick you out I’ll give you $5000. That should be enough to help you settle wherever you want, right?”
“Why?”
He stared at him for a moment. There were a thousand reasons that flitted through Harry’s mind, a thousand things that he could say, but none of them made any sense. Not yet at least. “Why not?” he settled on.
Malfoy took a slow inhale and then nodded once. “Fine, but you’re going to need to make a second bed and we have to stop for my stuff.”
“Done,” Harry replied, grinning and feeling the familiar feeling of freedom that he felt when he was gliding down the open road unfurling in his chest.
Finally, he was going on an adventure worth having.