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A Place In The Dirt by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

Summary: Voldemort was defeated but that didn't stop his Death Eaters continuing his 'noble work'. No
where is safe, thousands are forced to flee the Wizarding World or face death and enslavement. Harry
Potter is one of those who have fled. He didn't plan on prostitution; he didn't expect to meet anyone from
his past. And he hoped it was time to stop running.
Categories: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy Multi-Chaptered Fics Characters: Draco, Harry, Harry/Draco,
Lucius, Original Character, Severus
Genres: Romance, Dark Fic, Angst, Drama, Tragedy, Who Knows
Warnings: Sexual Content, Non-con, Violence, Adult Language, Character Death, Slowly click away...,
Suicide
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 8 Completed: Yes Word count: 17182 Read: 12654 Published: 18/07/05 Updated: 05/09/05

1. Chapter 1 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

2. Chapter 2 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

3. Chapter 3 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

4. Chapter 4 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

5. Chapter 5 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

6. Chapter 6 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

7. Chapter 7 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis

8. Chapter 8 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis


Chapter 1 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
Warning(s) for fic: prostitution, self-harm, sexual situations, drug use, violence, non-con, voyeurism
Status: WIP- chapters will be posted every Monday
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters, I write this for my own amusement and sadly make no
money from it or anything else in fact. Marilyn Manson owns the title.

---

Notes: What was really meant to be a long one-shot is a multi-chaptered fic (about ten to fifteen
chapters). The chapters will switch perspective from Harry’s to Draco’s in order to give an account of each
person’s state of mind and, at times, body. At the start of each chapter there are bits in italics that clearly
are flashbacks. This was started pre-HBP although it could almost tie in with events there ...but contains
no spoilers.

Warnings for this chapter: adult language, mild violence, mentions of self-harm/prostitution, hints at drug
use (blink and you’ll miss it)
---

There was a pounding in his ears, his own heartbeat echoing through his skull. Bare feet crunched and
scraped their way through the thickets of a dark woodland area. He couldn’t believe they’d found him
again. The charms around the cabin in which he had been hiding were strong, the strongest he could
manage in his condition. But now he was running again, shoes lost somewhere behind him, meagre
belongings stuffed hurriedly in a worn, red backpack. Wand left behind, snapped and dropped onto a
coffee table. It was how they were tracking him, his magical signature. Not that he would have that for
much longer. Without his wand it would at least take them longer to find him. Until his magic ran out, then
he’d be free. But this was the third time, he was sick of running, wanted to stop, wanted to sleep for an
entire night without screaming and crying, he just wanted it to end. Long, red slits on his wrists showed
that.

---

Harry Potter, barely out of his teens and still looking decidedly young- a mere boy to most people’s eyes,
was standing in the doorway of a rundown looking building. Sheets of November rain were splashing off
the pothole-adorned pavement behind him, drop after drop falling from the overhang of his choppy, jaw
length black hair onto the worn red carpet.

The owner of this sordid place stood up from his high backed leather chair, making his way around the
high, chipped oak desk to stand in front of the boy.

“Another one looking for money and a roof?” He asked, voice sounding the kind of hoarse only achieved
from a life of straight whiskey and chain smoking. Harry nodded, more water falling from his sodden hair.
The man tutted, “There’s been an influx recently, all around your age, all running from something. Is there
a war going on that we don’t know about?” The man was clearly joking but Harry looked up for the first
time since entering, green eyes flashing with several emotions all in the space of a second. Taken aback,
the man stepped around the boy, closing the door shut. The boy’s eyes had seemed out of place on such
a young face, like they had seen too much, known too much. The man smirked, the appearance of a
teenager but the mind of an experienced adult- this boy would be hot property.

“So you got a name kid?” The man asked, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Sirius.” Harry said weakly, keeping his eyes directed to the ground. The man lit up, stuffing the cigarettes
back into his pocket, eyeing ‘Sirius’ critically. No one ever used a real name, choosing to pick something
with personal significance; he wondered what this kid’s story was. The man held out a chubby hand and
Harry took it.

“Taylor.” He said simply, shaking Harry’s hand as the boy directed his attention elsewhere. “You’re a shy
one,” Taylor said to no one in particular, letting go of Harry’s hand, “submissive I’m assuming as well
yes?” Harry nodded, “You’ll certainly be a hit with the clientele.” He noticed the way Harry cringed slightly.
“Hey!” Taylor said, grabbing Harry’s chin between his fingers and squeezing it, “you better get used to
that sort of shit kid. If you don’t you’ll be out on your ass quicker than you can say pneumonia. Got it?”
Harry nodded and Taylor smirked in satisfaction.

“Taylor!” A voice shouted from one of many back rooms. Taylor rolled his eyes and turned round.

“Can you smell fresh meat or something, Dragon?” Harry couldn’t see who Taylor was talking to but
managed to suppress his shudder at being referred to as ‘meat’.

“We have a new one?” The apparently disembodied voice asked.

“Yeah, you’ll be showing him around since he’ll be your new roommate.” Taylor instructed, moving back
over to his desk. Harry kept his eyes lowered.

“Well I’ll need to turn the mattress over- I still haven’t gotten Scott’s fucking blood off it.” Harry’s eyes went
wide, that did not sound like a good omen. ‘Dragon’ as Taylor was calling him stepped over to Harry.
“He’s a quiet one isn’t he?” Harry heard Taylor absently ‘mmmhmm’ from his desk. A surprisingly soft
hand cupped his cheek and forced him to look upwards. Harry’s heart stopped dead, his chest
constricting. A pair of silver eyes were staring at him, the left partially obscured by light blond hair.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” Harry whispered.

“I’m afraid not.” ‘Dragon’, or Malfoy as Harry had better known him, whispered back. Harry quenched the
urge to roll his eyes at Malfoy’s not so subtle name change.
“Something wrong, Dragon?” Taylor called over. Malfoy blinked a couple of times before shaking his
head. “Well take Sirius upstairs then show him around before rush hour.”

Malfoy put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, steering him across the lobby and up a dark flight of stairs. They
reached a narrow corridor, the walls painted an off-white, brown carpet worn beneath their feet. Several
doors lined the walls, each with a round, dim light fixture above them.

Malfoy stopped at the fifth one along on the right hand side, opened it and pushed Harry inside. Harry
barely had time to turn around after he heard the door slam shut before a fist connected with his face. He
stumbled backwards, hand flying up to his cheek as he spat a bit of blood onto the floor.

“I’ve waited three fucking years to do that.” Malfoy stated as he dropped onto a mattress covered in green
sheets.

“What the bloody hell was that for, Dragon?” Harry spat, dropping his rucksack to the floor, “Very clever
name change by the way.” He added sarcastically.

“Says the man who’s named himself after an ex-convict and dead godfather. The punch was because it’s
your fault I’m here.” He replied angrily, leaning back on his bed.

“My fault? What the fuck? I thought you were dead!” Harry shouted.

“You killed the Dark Lord but you didn’t get the job done properly so all his fucking little followers found
out that I’d stabbed them in the back and decided I’d look prettier dead!” Malfoy spat out as his
explanation.

“It wasn’t my job to get rid of the Death Eaters so don’t go blaming me! Besides I hardly put you under
imperius and forced you to become a whore did I?” Harry said, placing his hands defiantly on his hips.

“Potter,” Malfoy said exasperatedly, “I had no family, no money, no home, no wand and a thousand
galleon bounty on my head, what the hell was I meant to do?” Harry frowned and sat down on the
opposite end of Malfoy’s bed, feeling too drained to deal with arguing. “So what brings you here?” Malfoy
asked, his tone slightly more conversational. Harry snorted and fell backwards onto the mattress, his
head landing just next to Malfoy’s thigh.

“Everyone left in the Wizarding World who hasn’t deflected to the other side feels the same as you.”
Malfoy looked down at Harry, “I think the ‘light’ side wants me dead as much as the ‘dark’ side.” Harry’s
eyes closed, “How is one teenager meant to kill hundreds of Death Eaters as well as the Dark Lord?” He
asked rhetorically, years of pain and frustration coming through in his voice. After a few moments silence
he opened his eyes and looked up at Malfoy, “Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?”

Malfoy sighed, shifting slightly on the bed, arms stretched out behind him.

“Because you would have tried to stop me, tried to save me. You always did.” Malfoy almost smiled as he
stared at the opposite wall. He quickly steeled himself to whatever his thought process was and stood up.
“It’s in the past now Potter, a few nights together a few years ago.”

Malfoy scratched at his left forearm, groaning and pulling up the sleeve of his black shirt. Harry rolled onto
his stomach, allowing himself full view of the charred remains of Malfoy’s dark mark. Harry squinted,
trying to get a better view of something further up Malfoy’s arm. There were several blood covered
puncture marks, each one bruised around the edges. Harry knew he had seen something somewhere
about similar marks before. He racked his brain until it hit him- track marks from needles. He frowned,
looking up to see Malfoy glaring at him.

“It’s not like your arms are so perfect either, Potter.” He spat and Harry scowled, getting up from the bed.
“You’ll want to turn that mattress over, there’s still blood stains from where my last roommate slit his
wrists in the middle of the night. Knowing your history you might be as well not turning the mattress over-
it’ll save getting blood on both sides.” Harry clenched his fists, taking a threatening step forwards but
Malfoy appeared unfazed. “You’ll need to clean yourself up before the main client load gets here, you
only arrived today so the chances are you’ll just be visual stimulation for tonight.”

Malfoy pushed passed Harry to the door of the room as he pulled down the sleeve of his shirt and swept
his long hair off his face, tying it up loosely with a strip of black leather. He swept out the room, slamming
the door behind him and leaving Harry staring blankly at the cream coloured wood of the door. He
groaned, dropping back onto Malfoy’s bed and running his fingers through his damp hair. A few years ago
if Trelawny had told him he would suffer this fate he would have thought she’d been sniffing too much
incense. The battle against the Death Eaters was continuously hopeless; more and more people taking
Malfoy’s point of view and blaming him. Harry sighed, letting his hands fall to his knees as he looked
around the room.

Malfoy had been the last fucking person Harry had expected to find here. He’d known that several of the
witches and wizards, orphaned at school age that had chosen to disappear into the muggle world. He
only hoped that they hadn’t all ended up as prostitutes and pole dancers. Two years earlier, when
Voldemort had been defeated and the Death Eaters chose to continue his ‘noble’ work, Malfoy had been
discovered as a spy. He had disappeared three days later.

The room Harry was now sharing with Malfoy was painted a rather sickly shade of green, a few shades
lighter than Malfoy’s bedcovers. There was another bed opposite, separated by a thin bit of grizzly black
carpet and a chipped bedside table. The mattress that would serve as Harry’s bed was very clearly
stained with blood, the very sight making him feel nauseous. He ran his hands through his hair as he
stood up and stepped to the bed. Hands cupped around the edge of the mattress, Harry flipped it over
easily.

The door clicked open and shut and Harry spun round, his damp hair hitting off his face.

“Here,” Malfoy said as he chucked a bundle of black bed-covers at Harry, “I’d thought you’d be in the
shower by now,” he said with a roll of his eyes. The blond stepped over to Harry snatching the covers
back from him, “get in the shower, I’ll put these on the bed and get you something to wear for tonight.”
Malfoy disappeared out the room again as Harry sighed in defeat.

This was his life now whether he liked it or not. It was either stay here and provide ‘entertainment’ for the
‘clubs’ patrons or freeze to death on the streets. He might not even be here that long. Soon he might have
to run again but the magic in his veins was running thin, maybe this time they wouldn’t find him.
Back to index
Chapter 2 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
Warnings for this chapter: adult language, mentions of self-harm/non-con/prostitution, violence, drug use

---

Pair after pair of strong, unrelenting hands gripped at his arms, his thighs, his face, his stomach. They
were holding him down, clawing at him, spitting the words ‘Traitor! Traitor!’ in between the mouthfuls of
saliva that landed on his bare skin. There was a bright flash, the movements froze and then the Death
Eaters were screaming. Not in vicious comments but in pain as their eyes were blinded and skin
underwent the sensation of bubbling up off the muscles. A warm hand grabbed him around the waist,
hoisting him to his feet before a pull on his navel lurched them forward and he toppled onto a stone floor.

They had found out that he had betrayed them. He would have to run. He would have to run fast. He’d
wanted to say goodbye to those who had given him that second chance, especially the one who had not
only given his trust but his heart. But he didn’t have time. He had to run and he couldn’t have the one that
loved him risking death again just to save him.

---
The sun set low behind the buildings in one of muggle London’s most seedy areas. Long shadows were
cast on the cracked pavement of the alley he was walking down. Broken nails scratched at his head
where the uncharacteristic amount of grease was making him itch. He looked at the door of the building
he was entering. This was the place where several his age who had been forced to flee were now hiding.
He was easily recognized, even with the slowly healing scar that ran from the corner of his right eye to
just past his cheekbone. It would always pay testament to what happens when you don’t let those who
were your peers violate you in the most sordid ways. He sighed heavily, resigning himself to this fate and
pushed open the door.

---

Behind his ears Draco had tucked the strands of hair that had fallen from the leather that bound his blond
locks into a long ponytail. The heels of his boots clicked on the wood of the winding staircase that led him
back into the entrance hall of the club. Taylor was still seated behind his desk, a cigarette in his mouth,
ash dripping from the end. Draco sauntered up to the desk, finally getting so pissed off at his hair that he
pulled the leather strip off and the lengths of blond hair cascaded over his shoulders.

“What do you need Dragon?” Taylor asked without looking up. Draco nearly shuddered, he hated when
Taylor did that, especially while calling him ‘Dragon’- it was exactly like he had just wandered into his
father’s study to be admit to some sort of frowned upon deed. No, not a nice thought at all.

“Sirius- will he just be dancing tonight?” Draco asked, leaning one arm on the desk. Taylor nodded.

“As much as that pains me we can’t throw him in the deep end on his first night. Have you asked if he has
any experience servicing the same sex?” Taylor asked. Draco nearly snorted- Potter had had plenty of
experience, with Draco himself nonetheless.

“Yes he has.” Draco replied.

“Any marks on his body that’ll need concealed?”

“A few.” Draco said; thinking to the scars he was sure would still be on Potter’s arms.

“Well whatever trick it is you do to cover up that mess on your arm, do it on him. Honestly Dragon what
the fuck did you get up to before you came here?” Taylor asked him, knowing that he would never get an
answer. Draco pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the Dark Mark on his forearm and gave it a
mock inspection. He did it all the time for effect- Taylor was fascinated by the mark.

“It’s not as bad as it used to be, it used to be a lot more …painful.” Draco said with a knowing smirk.
Taylor stubbed his cigarette out in an overflowing ashtray.

“Don’t forget those other marks, no one wants to know they’re fucking a druggie.” Taylor remarked as he
flipped through an appointment book. Draco rolled his eyes, leaning over the table to steal a cigarette
from the packet that sat on the desk. Holding it between his lips he brought his own lighter out of his
pocket, flipping it open and bringing the flame to the cigarette. With an inhale it lit, the lighter flipping shut
and being stuffed back into Draco’s pocket.

“You’ve got an hour and a half until someone actually has you booked, use that time to get Sirius
loosened up and dancing.” Draco exhaled a puff of smoke.

“And how do you propose I do that?” He asked.

“Use your magic.” Taylor said with a wink. Draco rolled his eyes at Taylor’s choice of words, taking a drag
of the cigarette as he turned and walked away down a nearby corridor. Throwing open the first door he
came to, Draco flipped on a light and the small room illuminated. Rack after rack of skimpy clothes and
costumes were jammed close together leaving only a thin strip of floor to walk on. Draco already had
something in mind to pick for Potter to wear- it was just a matter of finding it.

A few minutes and countless pairs of leather chaps later Draco pulled out a wire coat hanger bearing
green leather hot pants and a matching sheer shirt. This would do Potter nicely. On his way out the room,
Draco whipped a pair of silver knee-highs off the shoe rack and held his nearly finished cigarette between
his lips as he left the corridor. He took a quick puff, expelling it out the side of his mouth before gesturing
to Taylor to remove it. Taylor took it, inhaling the last of it before stubbing it out. A tall, tanned skinned
man came down the stairs, the PVC of his skirt and boots making a loud scraping sound. He smiled at
Draco as he passed.

“Hey! Ali?” Draco called as an afterthought. Ali stuck his head back into the staircase, “You couldn’t have
two double vodkas waiting for me when I get down could you?” He asked with his most charming smile.

“Sure thing sweetheart. That for you and the new boy?” Draco nodded and Ali disappeared again, leaving
Draco to make his way back up to his and Potter’s room. With difficulty, Draco opened the room door and
dropped the boots and clothes onto his own bed and set about putting the covers on Potter’s bed. By the
time the covers were on the gushing sound of the shower had stopped and Draco could hear footsteps
padding around the bathroom.

Draco undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it down his shoulders and dropping it to the floor. The
bathroom door swung open and Potter wandered out, an off-white towel hung around his waist.

“Your bed’s made and your clothes for tonight are there,” Draco said with a nod towards the outfit on the
bed. Potter screwed his face up.

“Get used to it Potter,” Draco said as he unbuttoned his trousers, “This is your life now.”

Draco pulled down the zip of his trousers, walking over to a wardrobe and opening it. He selected a plain
pair of black leather trousers and dumped them on the bed. Letting his trousers fall, he kicked them off
and pulled on the other ones before hanging up his worn pair.

“Malfoy?” Potter asked and Draco murmured his recognition of the question, “how the fuck do I get these
on?” Draco snorted, as he turned round. Potter was a lot thinner than when Draco had last seen him. The
outline of his ribs was protruding, the point of his hipbones more obvious than it had once been. “Not
quite the lightly muscled seeker I used to be eh?” In spite of himself, Draco gave Potter a soft look.

“Not really but then again,” he spread his arms and looked down at himself, “neither am I.”

Draco had always been slender, his slim frame never developing much more than slight muscles on his
biceps but now he didn’t even have those. It wasn’t surprising. With his intake of drugs and alcohol
combined with the lack of food he digested it was surprising that he wasn’t a walking skeleton. He opened
the drawer of the bedside table and handed Potter a bottle of oil.

“Smear some on the inside and they should glide right on.” Draco flopped onto his bed, fishing down
behind the mattress.

“Thanks …what are you looking for?” Potter asked as he sat down on his bed.

“My wand …ah here it is.” Draco pointed the wand at his arm and muttered an incantation. The Dark Mark
and the track marks faded before disappearing. “You’ll want to do that on your wrists.” Potter froze, not
looking up from where he was spreading the oil inside the hot pants.

“I can’t …I …I don’t have my wand.” He stuttered out, self-consciously turning his wrists inwards to hide
the scars and fresh cuts.
“Just use mine, it always worked quite well for you.” Potter sighed, not responding as he slid the hot pants
up his legs beneath his towel. Standing up and giving them a yank, the towel fell and the hot pants came
to rest low on his hips.

“Why can’t you just do it?” Draco frowned as Potter sat back down on the bed.

“What’s going on Potter? What aren’t you telling me?” Draco asked. Potter ran his hands through his wet
hair, droplets falling onto his chest and shoulders.

“I can’t do magic …I haven’t any magic left.” He said quietly. Draco blinked.

“What the fuck do you mean you’ve got no magic left?” Draco asked.

“Do you remember how it was a kind of vortex out of Voldemort’s own magic that I had to create to
essentially suck him into?” Draco nodded, “Well since it was me who did it, the vortex drained some
magic from me. Because I created it, it’s still draining my magic. No one could figure out why. There had
been no mention in the books about side affects.” Potter paused; eyes cast downwards, his hair falling
over his face. Sub-consciously, Draco dropped to his knees and shuffled over to Potter.

“It is through magic that the Death Eaters track me. They knew their time was running out as my power
did the same. A few days ago it went altogether.”

Silently, Draco took Potter’s left hand and turned it around, pointing his wand at the scars. He said the
incantation and the scars disappeared. Draco felt Potter’s eyes on him as he did the same to the other
wrist. Draco looked up to meet Potter’s green eyes, finding them fluttering closed.

“I cried for you, you know?” Potter said quietly, “I cried as if you were dead.”

“I couldn’t tell you I was leaving,” Draco said as he bowed his head, “I couldn’t put you in any more
danger.” Potter snorted.

“Since when were you so fucking noble?”

“Funny things happen to people when they…” Draco trailed of, standing up and casting a charm on
Potter’s hair to dry it.

“Get your shirt and boots on, I’ll be out in a second.” Draco quickly strode across the room and into the
bathroom, slamming the door behind him. That was why he’d hated Potter so much, even at the same
time as loving him- the weakness. There were some things that Draco had never been able to shake,
even as he denounced his father and betrayed the Death Eaters. And one of those was his distaste for
showing weakness, for feeling emotion.

He pulled open one of the drawers, taking out a black case. Unzipping it, it unfolded, a needle, vials of
ready to inject heroin and several other things sitting inside. As quick as he could, Draco filled the syringe
and wrapped a cord around his arm to draw out a vein. He flicked the syringe twice before positioning it
and pushing it into his skin. It slid in easily with barely a prick and Draco pressed down on the plunger,
driving the drugs into his bloodstream. Taking a couple of breaths, Draco pulled the needle out and sat it
back in the case, unwinding the cord from around his arm. Stuffing the case back in the drawer, Draco
charmed the fresh track mark before his wand was also put into the drawer.

He slid it shut, standing up from where he was sitting on the toilet. The high was washing over him,
making him pleasantly light-headed as he pulled open the bathroom door. Potter was standing in the
middle of the room, boots zipped up and shirt fastened with the one and only button.

“You’re only going to be dancing tonight but by tomorrow you should be on sale,” Potter cringed, “and get
that cringing problem under control. I’ve got a client in about forty-five minutes and there are two vodkas
waiting for us downstairs so lets get going so I can show you around.”

Potter nodded and stepped up to Draco as he opened the door.

“Will this do?” Potter asked, sweeping a hand over himself.

“It’ll have to.” Draco stepped out of the room, aware of Potter frowning at him from behind.
Back to index
Chapter 3 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
---

Warnings for this chapter: adult language, voyeurism, sexual situations

---

Drip, drip, drip- the slow, repetitive leak of a rusted tap. Harry, bundled in a tattered blanket, rolls over in
his sleep, falling off the edge of the couch and swearing as he hit his shoulder on a table. Groaning, he
pulls himself back up, the skin of his wrists sticking together with dried blood as it bends in shape. So he
has survived another night. He looks down as he hoists himself up onto the old couch once more, wincing
slightly as he watches last nights cuts threatening to split open.

It had been six days since he had found refuge in this dingy studio flat, furnished by nothing more than an
old couch and table, some blankets, a chipped bathroom and a mildew covered kitchenette. Without his
wand he would be harder track but not impossibly so but he knew it would only be a matter of time until
he was running again.

---

Harry jumped up onto to the stool where Draco had directed him, turning around to rest his arms on the
polished wood of the bar. A tap on the shoulder quickly pulled him out of the reverie he was drifting into,
the light tinkling of ice cubes on the side of glass sounding in his ear. He turned, finding himself greeted
with the sight of a six-foot two-inch tall drag queen in black PVC waving a glass of clear liquid.

“Erm …thanks.” Harry mumbled, taking the offered beverage. Draco appeared at Harry’s other side, a
glass in his hand as well.

“Sirius, this is Ali.” Draco said by way of an introduction, taking a long mouthful of his drink. Harry took a
sip of his own drink, screwing his face up at the taste of the straight vodka as he nodded at Ali.

“Anything you need sugar, if Dragon isn’t around then come find me.” Ali said with a wink before
sauntering away. Harry gaped open mouthed before Draco interrupted his line of sight by sitting down
beside him.

“There’re clients who want that sort of thing?” Harry asked incredulously, gulping down a bigger mouthful
of his vodka. Draco shrugged.

“A few, he’s mostly for entertainment value,” He downed the last of his vodka and slammed it on the bar.
“Tonight, you are just for entertainment, nothing strenuous, just dancing which I fucking hope you can
manage.”

“Dancing where?” Harry asked, eyes fixed on the vodka he was swirling around his glass.

“Over there.” Draco said with a nod to a podium in the middle of the room, a shining pole stretching from
the podiums mirrored floor to the ceiling above, “I’m assuming you’ve seen pole dancing before?”

“Of course I have,” Harry snapped, scowling as soon as he had done so, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Draco replied as he stood up, eyes fixed on someone who had just wandered in, “I have to go,
if you need anything ask Ali or Taylor.”

Harry followed Draco’s line of site, watching the blond as he sauntered across the room, hips swinging
suggestively. The brown haired man that Draco has spotted took the blond by the hand, leading him
away. Harry shivered, knowing that tomorrow he would be doing the same thing.

“Sirius? …Sirius?” Harry’s head snapped round when he realised that he was the one being called on.
Taylor was walking over, a cigarette smouldering between his chubby fingers.

“Dragon picked the clothes well,” he said, gesturing to Harry’s outfit, “right, here’s the deal, you get up,
you dance. Any money a patron gives you is your own to keep. They can look but they can’t touch- that
costs extra,” He said with a smirk and Harry controlled his disgusted expression.

Taylor took a drag of his cigarette, nodding to someone across the room. Moments later music was
blaring, a slow, sensual song with a heavy bass line. Harry sighed, quickly downing the last of his vodka
and sitting the glass heavily down on the bar. He jumped down from his stool and made his way across to
the podium, teetering slightly in his boots. With one hand on the small railing surrounding the platform,
Harry hoisted himself up, grabbing onto the pole for balance.

He took a deep breath, wrapping his left ankle around the base of the pole and rolling his hips towards it.
He screwed his eyes shut, feeling awkward and out of place. He tried the move again, crotch barely
brushing over the pole. He had to do this, couldn’t risk being out on the streets again. With another deep
breath he turned around, back sliding down the pole as he let himself drop downwards. The vodka from
earlier had barely had any effect but it was enough to make loosing himself in the music earlier.

Harry brought himself slowly up the pole, hands running up his thighs as he did so. He turned again,
hooking one leg around the pole and spinning to the other side, rolling his hips and trailing a hand down
his chest as he did so. He opened his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair, slipping down the pole.
A few people had come into the club since Harry had begun dancing. Three of them sat at the bar nursing
drinks and looking from Harry to the various available prostitutes. Another two had taken up seats beside
Harry’s podium, watching him avidly.

Harry closed his eyes again, swallowing the bile that was creeping up in his throat at being ogled like a
piece of meat but he continued to dance nonetheless. After a few minutes he opened his eyes to discover
a couple of other people standing right beside the podium. Swallowing again he figured he might as well
make some money.

He lowered himself down the pole, kneeling on the podium as he suggestively flicked his tongue out,
narrowly missing the metal of the pole. He kept his eyes locked on one of the men, a tall man with
sandy-blond hair, as he crawled towards him. The man licked his lips and Harry was impressed at how
well he subdued his own shudder. Harry flicked his eyes downwards; dark lashes spreading across his
pale cheeks in a subtle gesture of submission. He looked up suggestively, slowly developing a further
hatred of himself as he sat back on his haunches, rolling his hips.

The man leant forward, a note of muggle money in his hands. He stepped towards the podium and Harry
knelt up, twisting to the side and running a hand up his thigh. The man slipped the money up the hem of
Harry’s hot pants, fingers lingering unnecessarily long on the skin. Harry felt the familiar burn of sickness
at the back of his throat once more and stood up quickly, turning in his heel and wrapping his leg around
the pole.

Harry wasn’t sure how much time had passed from when the money was slid up his thigh, every song
melting into another in a haze of smoke fumes and the stench of sweat and alcohol. The first thing he
knew, Taylor was calling his name and telling him to come down from the podium. He put a hand on the
small of Harry’s back and led him back over to the bar.
“Not bad for a first night kid but tomorrow brings the real stuff,” Harry nodded in comprehension, “go back
to your room, get some rest. If you need anything Dragon should be done with his second client in about,”
Taylor looked at a scraped silver watch, “half an hour- I’ll send him straight up to your room,” Taylor
signalled to the barman and a glass was placed beside Harry and it was thrust by Taylor into his shaking
hands, “take this with you, by the way you look, you could do with it.”

Harry smiled gratefully and took the glass, standing up from the stool and making his way out of the room.
He felt unclean, disgusting, filthy. He wanted to tear open the very skin that had been revoltingly ogled. A
low moan jerked him from his self-deprecating inner monologue and his head jerked on reflex to the
direction of the sound.

In a shaded corner he spotted two bodies, one straddling the other. The head of the one doing the
straddling was thrown back, familiar bright blond hair falling backwards. Harry stopped dead, watching as
Draco rode himself up and down on the dark haired man that was fiercely gripping his hips. Harry knew
that he shouldn’t be watching, knew with a sickening twist of his stomach that tomorrow night that would
be him but he couldn’t look away. He could remember clearly how it felt to be the one beneath Draco, the
one being sensually ridden and subjected the sound of low moans. His tongue could recollect the taste of
the blonde’s sweat, nose recalling the musky scent inhaled every time he had sucked that hard cock.

He spotted Draco looking out the corner of his eye but looking away almost instantly. Harry was about to
walk away when Draco did a double take, silver eyes locking with Harry’s. Harry knew that look, that
smouldering lustful gaze. Draco kept his eyes locked on Harry as he picked up his pace, head thrown
even further back, the ends of his hair brushing down his back.

It was inappropriate but utterly erotic. Harry was transfixed, lost in memories of how it had once felt to be
buried in that tight heat. He shouldn’t be thinking those things, shouldn’t be so turned on by the sight of
Draco being whored out. But there was nothing he could do.

Draco finally broke the stare, eyes closing as he let out several theatrical moans. Quickly coming back to
his senses, Harry pulled himself from the scene, hurrying out the room and taking a shaky mouthful of the
vodka before ascending the stairs to his room.

As he reached the gloomy corridor he took a shaky mouthful of his vodka, stopping outside his and
Draco’s room door. Closing it behind him, Harry leant against it, breathing heavily as he tried to gather his
thoughts back together. Draco had been looking at him in that way, a way Harry hadn’t seen for years.
Harry hit the back of his head off the door a couple of times. Now was not the time to be thinking these
things about Draco …he fellow fucking prostitute of all things! He quickly downed the rest of his drink,
sitting the empty glass down on the room’s desk.

He still felt disgusting having been stared at like that. It reminded him too much of memories he’d most
like to forget. Memories of leers and lustful looks …Harry shuddered. It didn’t help that he felt sordid,
soiled, after staring at Draco with his client. Suppressing another shudder, Harry scooped the towel he
used earlier up from the bed, setting off for the shower.
Back to index
Chapter 4 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
---

Warnings for this chapter: adult language, minor self-harm (burning), mentions of drug
use/voyeurism/prostitution

---

Two bodies, barely older than sixteen, stand in a desolate corridor. Their lips are pressed together, eyes
wide in shock at the situation they have found themselves in. One moves backwards, touching his
fingertips to parted lips. The other steps forwards, more confident than the dark haired boy and braces his
hands on either side of the brunette’s face. Their lips connect fiercely, a sudden overwhelming shudder of
lust shooting down their spines and pooling in their groins. Toppling backwards, they hit the floor, bodies
aligning and moving in a natural rhythm until both are quickly moaning their completion.

---

Draco quietly pushed open the door of his and Harry’s room, wincing slightly as he rubbed the small of his
back. That evening’s client had been particularly rough, leaving Draco with several bruises on his hips
that he would need to heal in the morning. He clicked the door closed, finding himself enveloped in the
darkness of the room. Slow breathing came from Harry’s bed and the blond assumed he was asleep.
Draco was thankful: he was too tired to deal with the awkward atmosphere that was sure to reign after
Harry had watched him with his client.

Feeling his way across the room, Draco flipped on the bathroom light and went inside. He leant heavily on
the back of the door, running a hand through his blond hair. The way Harry has looked at him- the flicker
of lust quickly covered by shame. It was how Harry had looked when first he had kissed Draco. With a
long sigh, Draco stepped over to the sink and turned on the cold tap, splashing his face several times. He
looked up into the mirror, watching as droplets of water dripped off the end of his nose. The charms were
fading on his eyes, dark circles beginning to show, as were several of the marks on his upper forearm.

He pulled off his trousers and stepped into the shower, turning it on and relishing in the heat of the spray.
He’d been surprised that Harry hadn’t asked more questions upon his arrival. The moment Draco had
seen Harry, he’d quickly formulated a speech explaining why he was in the situation he was. The ‘dark
side’ had found out that Draco had betrayed them, forcing him to run and keep running. Finally, he’d
stumbled across this brothel and had been there ever since. With no money, no family, no friends, he had
had no other option. Then again, Draco reasoned as he rinsed shampoo from his hair, Harry needn’t ask
because he was in the same situation. The drug thing- Draco had expected questions about that. Not that
it would be hard to explain. Falling into a drug habit wasn’t exactly hard to do when you were exposed to
them on a daily basis.

Draco shut off the shower and stepped out onto the bathroom floor. After drying himself off he went back
into the bedroom, groping his way across to his own bed. He could hear Harry tossing and turning fitfully
in his sleep. Apparently, some things never changed.

---

A small amount of light was making its way through the layer of dirt on the room’s window, seeping
through the thin material of the curtains and waking Draco up from a restless sleep. He rubbed the sleep
from his eyes, rolling onto his side only to find Harry sitting on his bed, back to the wall and legs pulled up
against his chest.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked groggily as he pulled open the drawer of the bedside table.
Harry shrugged in response and continued to stare vacantly down at his knees. Draco put a cigarette
between his lips and lit it with a blue lighter before lying back down.

“I’ll rephrase that, how much do you ever sleep now?”

“Not much,” Harry replied quietly. Draco took a long drag of tobacco as he rested one arm behind his
head.

“Nightmares, I assume?” Draco said as he blew out the smoke. Harry nodded. Draco groaned as he sat
up, throwing the covers off of himself and exposing his half naked form. “Anything you want to talk
about?” Harry shook his head as Draco moved at sat on the bed beside him.

“It’s the same things it has always been- murders, death, pain …some more death,” Harry said after a few
moments. Draco looked sadly at the brunette before remembering how much Harry hated any signs of
outwards pity. Instead, the blond offered Harry his cigarette. Harry looked up with an expression almost of
disbelief before snorting sardonically and taking the offered cigarette. Draco pulled himself properly onto
the bed so he was sitting with his back to the wall as well. Harry exhaled and passed the cigarette back to
Draco who reached over and got himself an ashtray.

“So, what you were doing last night …is that what I have to look forward to?” Harry asked. Draco flicked
ash into the ashtray and took another drag before stubbing it out.

“Afraid so,” Draco debated for a moment whether to bring up what had happened but thought the better of
it, “Basically you do what they want, you get paid and Taylor gets a cut in exchange for you having a roof
over your head.”

“How big a cut?” Harry asked and Draco shrugged as he let his head fall back against the wall.

“Fifteen, twenty percent- depends how much you earn. There’s a list of what costs what, have a look over
it today,” Harry visibly cringed, “I know it’s not pleasant but …this is who you are now,” Draco went to get
up from the bed but Harry grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. Draco landed on the mattress with thud
and toppled forward, having to brace his hand on the wall behind Harry’s head to stop himself falling onto
the brunette.

“About last night,” Harry began but Draco cut him off.

“Don’t. You don’t have to explain,” Draco was finding himself with the increasing need to pull away from
Harry. He could feel the old heat between them building but was in no way going to act on it. Not now, not
after all these years, not while they were selling themselves to get by in life. Harry’s tongue darted in and
out quickly, wetting his bottom lip slightly as he focussed on Draco’s mouth. The blond tried to pull away
but Harry held onto his wrist, coaxing him closer.

“I’ve missed you,” Harry mumbled softly. Draco swallowed heavily. He’d worked so hard to put all his
feelings to rest and now every single one was back on his mind, and his lips. He could feel the air
between them, hot, heavy, powerful. Every single nerve in his body screamed for him to let go but he
couldn’t. He felt Harry’s breath on his face just as the dark haired man whispered “Let go.”

Draco groaned quietly as he allowed himself to be pulled in against Harry. The brunette shifted and fell
backwards onto the mattress, Draco’s lips finding themselves just above Harry’s. He wanted to let go
…god, how he did but a brothel wasn’t the place to fall in love with Harry again was it?

Harry’s eyes were already closed, lips parted slightly as his chest heaved with laboured breathing. Draco
swallowed and shut his eyes in what would appear to be a grimace as he stood up from the bed. He
snatched his packet of cigarettes from the bedside table and swiped up his lighter. Harry sat up on the
bed, brow furrowed in confusion. Draco cast his eyes downwards as he gave his head a brief shake and
pulled put a cigarette. Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his towel from where it
was hanging on the handle of the wardrobe. Without a word he trudged into the bathroom and slammed
the door, causing Draco to jump slightly as he sat down on his bed.

He inhaled the tobacco and, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth, lit the lighter again. Flicking it
off again he pressed the metal into his fingertips, screwing up his face as the hot metal burnt him. He’d
wanted to give in, hadn’t wanted to push Harry away and now, if he were honest, he was regretting it. He
inhaled again, tossing the lighter onto the bedside table. Running a hand through his hair for what he felt
was the hundredth time since he had woken up, Draco knew he was well and truly fucked. After three
years apart, Draco was still in love with Harry and now the brunette was sharing a room with him, thrown
back into his life, the blond had no idea how he was going to ignore it.

---

A/N: I know Chapter 4 was rather short but it was needed just to get some information out there. Besides,
the next one is a great deal longer!
Back to index
Chapter 5 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
---

Warnings for this chapter: adult-language; sexual situations; self-harm (cutting); prostitution; hints at
non-con (past- it’s in the flashback)

---

Holding him down, caressing, stroking. Flaccid becomes hard against all will. Someone is pushing against
him, ripping, tearing, pulling him apart from the inside. Someone else is kissing, licking, biting, claiming.
Oh god it was burning, his whole body on fire. He was going to split in half, he was sure of it.

He remembered when this same act had been done gentle, with love, consensual. But now his was
bleeding, bile was rising in his throat.

Let me die. Let me die. A chant, over and over in his head.

---

Harry had been in the bathroom for at least half and hour and had still not gone into the shower. His
entire body had been burning, yearning, to be with Draco’s since first they had locked eyes in the
entrance of the brothel. He’d missed Draco so much, thought him dead and mourned him as such. Now
they were back in each other’s lives in the most impossible of situations.

Was there no way that Draco could still love him? No way for them to leave this brothel and forge a life, a
better life, else where?

Harry ran his hands through his hair before yanking his t-shirt over his head and dropping to the bathroom
floor. He pulled down his boxers and toed them off, kicking them away slightly. Stepping over the edge of
the bath, Harry turned on the shower, jumping away from the spray until it heated up.

Eventually, steam filled the room and let the water pound off the top of his head, soaking his hair as
droplets ran into his eyes. At that very moment, he could have been with Draco, lying as tangled mass on
the bed, moving together in a slow rhythm but instead he was shampooing his hair and dreading that
night.

What would his client be like? What would they want or expect of him?

He shuddered at the thought of the client being rough and violent, worrying about the possibility of lapsing
into flashbacks. But wouldn’t them being gentle and soft be almost as bad? He’d only been touched in
such a way by one person, and only a few times. And now said person didn’t seem all too willing to revisit
old ground.

Rinsing the last of the foam from his hair, Harry shut off the shower and pulled a towel around his waist
before stepping onto the bath mat. Last nights charms, he noticed as he wiped steam off the mirror, had
long since faded, leaving his old scars and recent cuts exposed. He traced them lightly with a fingertip
before frowning and dragging a ragged nail across a fresh one. The scab burst open, blood coming to the
surface before pooling in a large droplet. Harry brought his wrist to his mouth and flicked his tongue over
the blood to remove it.

There were two knocks at the bathroom door that caused Harry to jump. He picked his clothes up from
the floor and made sure his towel was tight around his hips before opening the door. His eyes met
Draco’s and for a moment it looked like the blond was going to say something but Harry just pushed
passed him, muttering- “the shower’s free”- before throwing his t-shirt and boxers onto his bed. He heard
Draco sigh in what could have been exasperation or defeat before he slammed the bathroom door.

Harry dried himself off quickly, pulling on his boxers and his only spare pair of jeans. He ran the towel
through his hair a couple of times before dropping it to the bed and rummaging around in his rucksack.

He took out a worn red jumper and pulled it on. Stuffing his feet into dirty, and still slightly damp, trainers,
Harry left the room, hearing the shower switch on as he did so.

Harry wandered down the stairs into the entranceway, finding Taylor already sitting behind his desk,
scowling at a letter. He looked up, murky brown eyes fixating on Harry.

“Sirius! Early riser, are we?” He asked, dropping his letter to the desk. Harry nodded and went over to the
desk.

“I don’t really sleep much,” Harry replied as he subtly tried to look at everything that lay on the messy
desk. Taylor frowned at him but said nothing, opting instead to pull a packet of cigarettes from his pocket.
He popped one in between his lips and, after a moment of thought, offered one to Harry.

Harry took it gratefully and leant forward as Taylor lit it for him, taking the opportunity to scan the desk
again.

“Looking for this?” Taylor said, blowing out a line of smoke and waving around a piece of paper. He slid it
over to Harry who saw listed numerous sexual acts and their prices. Harry’s eyes went wide as he
scanned the list.

“Don’t worry,” Taylor said with a chuckle, “the things towards the end of the list are rarely asked for. Fucks
and blowjobs …the occasional round of rimming maybe, will be all you’ll be asked for.”

Harry didn’t feel particularly comforted by Taylor’s words, especially considering how disgusting the notion
of the short, chubby man in any sexual situation was.

“I know for a fact you’ll just be doing one blowjob tonight and that will be it,” Harry’s head shot up in
surprise, “you didn’t think I’d go throwing you right in the deep end did you, Sirius?” Harry almost smiled
as he inhaled.

“I had tried to give it as little thought as possible to be honest,” He replied, exhaling the smoke. Taylor’s
face almost softened and he gave a slight nod as he flicked some ash into an ashtray.

“That’s understandable,” He took another drag, “Dragon said you’ve got some experience?” Harry was
sure he could feel a light blush creeping up his cheeks and hoped his wet hair was hiding it. He nodded
as he took a long drag of tobacco.

“Well hopefully what you do know will get you by for now. Just spend the rest of day doing whatever you
want and try not to think too much about tonight,” He took a drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke out
in a thin line, “and it’s like they say,” he said as he passed Harry the ashtray, “practice makes perfect.”

---

Harry had spent most of the day wandering around the various rooms of the brothel. Some were
decorated and furnished like elaborate bedrooms, a couple of other’s resembled old-fashioned living
rooms. There was one right at the end of a corridor that looked eerily like the Hogwarts dungeons. Harry
made a point to leave that room as quickly as possible.

He was now seated at the bar, nursing his second glass of scotch on the rocks. About ten minutes earlier
he had run into Taylor who assured him that everyone who worked there was entitled to drinks, free of
charge. He had also asked where ‘Dragon’ was. Harry shrugged and said he hadn’t seen him since the
morning. Which was in fact perfectly true.

“Sirius!” A voice called from the doorway. Harry sighed and downed the last of his drink. It would seem
he’d been found.

“Yes, Dragon?” Harry said, his voice subtly sarcastic as he turned around on his stool. Draco’s face was
set in a cold mask of indifference. Harry realised something about what had transpired that morning had
bothered Draco more than he’d realised.

“I’ve to help get you organized for tonight,” Draco said coldly, hopping up onto the bar, swinging his legs
round and dropping behind it. He poured two measures of vodka into a small glass and downed it in one,
wiping a drop of the alcohol from the side of his mouth as he sat the glass back down.

“Come on,” He said as he clambered back over the bar, “I’ll take you to get something to wear.”

Harry got off the stool and followed Draco out and into one of the corridors he had explored earlier. Draco
opened the door to the small room that held the clothes and flipped on the light. Harry followed him in.

“Take your pick,” Draco said, waving a hand over the many racks of clothes. Harry’s eyes rested quickly
on a plain pair of red leather trousers and pulled them off the hanger. He held them up in question and
Draco nodded, taking a pair of black ankle boots off a shelf and thrusting them at Harry.

“This’ll do, let’s go,” Draco snapped as he turned the light back off, not even waiting for Harry to leave the
room and close the door before setting off down the corridor.

They walked in silence up to their room, neither one so much as looking at each other as Harry flopped
down onto his bed. Without a word, Draco disappeared into the bathroom and Harry was left to get
changed. He tossed his jeans across the room, using more force than necessary, causing the belt buckle
to collide with the bathroom door with a loud thud.

The door swung open to reveal and angry, half-naked Draco with his wand in his hand.

“Have your hissy fits another time, Potter,” Draco snapped, “I’m not in the mood for all your shite,” Harry
growled and stood up from the bed.

“My shite? You’re one to talk, Malfoy,” Draco frowned and Harry took a step closer, “one minute you’re
almost like your old self, caring, arguably nice and seemingly willing to…” Harry trailed off.

“To what, Potter?”

“To at least fucking touch me!” Harry shouted, taking Draco by surprise. Harry groaned and sat down on
the edge of the bed, dropping his face into his hands. He heard Draco sigh and come across the room,
sitting down beside him.

“It’s not easy, Harry,” Draco said after a moments silence, “I’ve spent three years trying to forget you
…forget what I felt for you but…”

“Everything came back when you saw me?” Harry offered. Draco snorted and looked round at Harry.

“You too huh?” Harry nodded in response before flopping backwards with a humourless laugh.

“As this situation weren’t fucked up enough,” He said and Draco shook his head smiling.

“Get dressed and I’ll put on the concealment charms,” Draco stood up and frowned down at Harry, “and
do something about that hair- it’s curling at the ends.”
Harry snorted and sat up as Draco retreated back into the bathroom. He slid off his boxers and pulled up
the trousers, wincing slightly at the way they were pinching at him in awkward places. He sighed and lay
back on his bed, knowing he would have to wait for Draco to come back out the bathroom to finish getting
him ready. Harry snorted, for the short while they’d been together, Draco had always taken it upon
himself to dress Harry and get him ready.

“Something amusing, Potter?” Came Draco’s voice from the bathroom door. Harry sat up to see Draco
standing in low-slung black trousers and a sheer, silver shirt. Harry swallowed heavily as his eyes
travelled down to the triangle of pale skin just above an elaborate belt buckle. He shook his head. Draco
smirked and wandered over to Harry, kneeling down in front of him.

He waved his wand over Harry’s hair and the ends straightened. He cast two more charms, one of the
dark circles beneath Harry’s eyes and another on the scars and cuts on the inside of his wrists.

“How do I look?” Harry said quietly. Draco turned Harry’s hand over softly, sitting it on a red leather clad
thigh. He looked up slowly, eyes locking with Harry’s.

“Gorgeous,” Draco replied gently. Harry gave him a weak smile.

“This is so strange,” Harry said, turning his palm over, bringing it into contact with Draco’s. Draco snorted
quietly.

“I know,” Draco sighed and stood up, “come on, we need to go.”

---

The door of one of the pseudo-sitting rooms closed behind Harry with a click. He flicked the lock over and
turned around. His client, a dark haired man in his mid forties, had already seated himself in a plush
armchair. This man was an old friend of Taylor’s, or so he had been told. Apparently, he would be fine as
a first ‘job’.

He walked across the room, swinging his hips suggestively, lowering his eyes in a seductive manner. He
heard the man’s belt buckle unfasten and the whole belt be pulled from the hoops before it dropped to the
floor with a thud. The man held his hand out and, steeling himself to the situation, Harry took it, allowing
himself to be lowered gently to the floor.

He ran his hands slowly up the mans thighs, pulling the trousers down to the mans ankles. Harry pulled
an already erect cock form inside the blue boxers and blew lightly over the tip. The man groaned, lacing
his fingers through Harry’s hair as he coaxed him downwards. Harry sighed inwardly, at least this was a
sign it would be over quickly. Harry wrapped his mouth around the head of the man’s penis and closed
his eyes.

---

Twenty minutes later, Harry was sitting alone in the sitting room, staring into an unlit fireplace. A pile of
money and a used condom lay on the carpet beside him.

It could have been worse and he knew it would be. In a few nights time he would be getting full on fucked
by the clients. Harry already felt disgusting and used. He hauled himself up off the floor, scooping up the
money and used condom. He tossed the latter into the room’s bin and counted Taylor’s share out of the
former.

He wandered blankly along the corridor until he came to the entranceway. He sat the money down in front
of Taylor who looked up from where he was writing in a book.

“He was impressed,” Taylor remarked. He looked at Harry’s dazed state and handed him the cigarette he
had freshly lit, “Here, kid, go upstairs, take a shower, get some rest.”

Harry nodded slowly and put the cigarette between his lips, inhaling deeply. He climbed the stairs,
exhaling smoke, and reached his room door. Opening the door and stepping inside, Harry took another
drag and closed the door.

He dropped onto Draco’s bed, stubbing the cigarette out into the ashtray. Harry kept his focus on the
door. He’d felt like this before and there had been no one, nothing, to comfort him. But it was different
now- Draco was there. The blond would be there for him, Harry was sure of it.

Harry scratched absent-mindedly at his wrist as he sat there waiting, wishing Draco would just come in
and hold him.

---

A/N: Told you this chapter would be longer! I was going to into more detail about Harry’s first job but
changed my mind. I hope it stilled flowed okay with the couple of time jumps. More next week!
Back to index
Chapter 6 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
---

Warnings for this chapter: adult language; sexual situations (NC17); hints at self-harm (cutting)

---

“ Will you please just listen to me?” An angry voice shouts in an empty classroom.

“I’ve been fucking listening! It’s you who isn’t listening! There’s fuck all I can do about it! If you don’t like it,
you know where the door is.”

A heavy silence reigns over the room before Draco takes a dangerous step towards Harry.

“I’m not bloody well going to leave you,” he shouts, hands balling into fists.

“Why not?” Harry replies, “All you do is bitch on and on about how I’m going to be killed because of my
foolishness!” Draco huffs and scowls at Harry.

“Did it ever fucking cross that tiny mind of yours that perhaps I’m just scared of losing you?” Harry’s face
slackens but Draco continues, “Or did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m in fucking love with you and
don’t want to see you killed?”

There’s an even heavier silence this time. Finally it’s broken as Harry near leaps on Draco, smashing their
lips together.

---

Three hours, Taylor had told him. It had been three hours since ‘Sirius’ had finished with his client and
been allowed to turn in early for the night. Draco hadn’t been so lucky- that evening’s client was very
…thorough. Finally, all was said and done, so to speak, and Draco was finally free to go back to his room
and check on Harry. It wasn’t that he was particularly worried about what Harry might be doing, although
he was, he just simply wanted to check what kind of state the brunette was in.

Draco wandered along the corridor, stopping at his room door. It opened with an unpleasant squeak and
Draco cringed. Closing the door, Draco was plunged into darkness. He groped for the light switch.

“Don’t,” Harry said quietly from somewhere across the room. Draco frowned.
“Why? What have you done?” There was a long sigh before Harry replied.

“Nothing, I’d just prefer to be in the dark just now.”

Draco scowled but said nothing. He walked passed his bed and jumped when he felt a hand brush over
the outside of his thigh.

“Why are you on my bed?” Draco asked, feeling around in the darkness for the towel on his chest of
drawers.

“No idea,” Harry said softly. Draco could almost hear the pain in Harry’s voice as his fingertips wrapped
around the edge of the towel.

“I’m going to shower,” he began, “I’ll want to sleep when I get back so move onto your own bed …please,”
Draco added as an after thought. As he walked away, he felt Harry grab his wrist.

“Wait …please,” Harry’s tone was uncharacteristically pleading and Draco sighed quietly as he sat down
on his bed. It was then that he noticed Harry was lying down. The brunette shifted over and pulled a
surprisingly willing Draco down beside him.

He lay there, squashed onto a single bed and making a pointed effort not to touch Harry. Unfortunately for
Draco’s resolve, Harry shuffled back over, tucking himself under Draco’s arm.

There was nothing the blond could do to stop the action. Harry was clearly seeking comfort after what had
happened to him that night. Draco wasn’t sure he could deny him that comfort.

He wrapped his arm loosely around Harry’s shoulder, pulling him in a little tighter and Harry let out a sigh.

“It’s even harder than I thought it would be,” Harry said absently.

“It gets easier,” Draco replied, attempting to avoid the shiver that shot up his spine every time Harry
breathed out. They lapsed into a silence that Draco wasn’t quite sure was an awkward one. It held a
certain expectancy that Draco couldn’t quite put his finger on.

A space of time passed by, Draco wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there. His clothes smelled of
sex, sweat and smoke, his back and shoulder had cramped up from lying in the same position for so long
and he wanted nothing more than to take a very long, very hot shower. He was beginning to think Harry
and fallen asleep so he allowed himself to move his arm just a little. When he thought he was about to
break free, Harry shuffled even closer, his lips barely inches from Draco’s neck and his hand on Draco’s
chest.

Draco’s breath caught in the back of his throat as Harry’s breath blew hot along the curve of his neck. He
tried to shake off the yearning. He wanted to stick to his earlier thoughts of not starting anything, in any
shape or form, with Harry but it really wasn’t easy.

There was, of course, the possibility that Harry was just needing comfort, Draco mused as Harry’s
fingertips travelled back and forth along the contours of his ribs. He took a sharp intake of breath as he
felt lips brush almost unnoticeably over his neck. It happened again, slightly harder this time.

Harry pressed a third chaste kiss, more insistent this time, onto Draco’s neck and, seemingly against his
will, Draco arched his neck into the kiss. Harry did it again and again, every light brush of lips sending
judders down Draco’s sides and spine. On what Draco counted as the eighth kiss, Harry flicked his
tongue out. Draco let out a slight groan, his self-control fading with every kiss.

Harry’s kisses moved from Draco’s pulse point, slowly up towards the blonde’s ear. Harry ran his tongue
around the shell of Draco’s ear, breathing heavily and causing Draco to shudder. Harry shifted his leg,
working it between Draco’s. His teeth latched onto Draco’s earlobe, nibbling lightly as he pulled himself
upwards, settling himself down between Draco’s legs.

Draco knew he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be lying here with Harry between his legs but he was
craving the touch he thought he had lost long ago.

Harry kissed along Draco’s cheekbone, lips pushing insistently against Draco’s own. With a moan, Draco
let himself melt into the kiss. Their tongues met, hot and slick as Harry’s hand slid between their bodies
and worked at the buttons of Draco’s shirt.

He pulled most of them open, his own bare chest pressing into Draco’s. Harry groaned, picking up the
pace of the kiss as he slid his hand lower, working at the button and zip of Draco’s trousers. He kissed
down Draco’s chest, stopping to lick at a nipple before continuing downwards, pulling off Draco’s trousers
and boxers as he went.

Draco’s resolve was gone the instant Harry’s palm ran up the inside of his thigh. Draco opened his eyes
and looked downwards, watching Harry stroke his thigh with one hand while attempting to pull off his own
trousers with the other.

With the task accomplished, Harry kissed up Draco’s calf and thigh, tongue flicking over the head of
Draco’s cock before he moved up again. He kissed along Draco’s collarbone, moving up to the juncture
between Draco’s neck and shoulder. He lapped at the spot once, twice, before fastening his teeth around
it.

Draco bucked his hips, grinding his erection upwards into Harry’s. They both groaned and Harry sucked
at the pale skin, thrusting downwards. Draco’s hands found purchase on the curve of Harry’s buttocks,
pulling at them, forcing them downwards. Harry finally pulled his teeth away, kissing the spot tenderly
before kissing Draco hard on the mouth.

He nipped and sucked at the blonde’s bottom lip, the thrusts moving in sync with their kiss. Draco could
feel his climax building already. He didn’t want it to be over so soon, yet in a way he did. He wanted to be
this way with Harry for as long as he could. Able to forget the problems they were facing. At the same
time, the end of the sex brought with it the sudden, possible, wave of regret and an influx of questions.

Draco moaned loudly as Harry’s mouth found it’s way to his ear. The brunette was muttering words that
Draco couldn’t decipher in the pre-orgasmic haze he was floating in. Harry reached between them, his
hand wrapping half around both of their cocks. With three pulls, Draco spilt his release over Harry’s hand,
feeling Harry thrust wildly downwards as he rode out his own orgasm.

Harry collapsed boneless and breathless on top of Draco, mumbling more words into the blonde’s sweat
slickened shoulder.

Eventually, Harry rolled off, lying on his side and pulling Draco close to him. Before the blond could even
begin to question his own actions, he fell into the most peaceful sleep he had had in a long time.

---

Draco awoke slowly, growing increasingly aware of the warm body pressed up against his back.
Reminders of the previous night hit him as he slid slowly off the mattress so as not to disturb Harry. He
looked down at the brunette who was sleeping with an uncharacteristically peaceful look on his face. Had
he done a completely stupid thing? Part of him said yes, part of him reminded the other part how good it
was, how right it felt.

Draco grabbed his towel up from the floor where it had been left the previous night. Rummaging around in
a drawer, he pulled out an old t-shirt and a very loose pair of jeans. Grabbing boxers from another
drawer, Draco made his way into the bathroom.

Already naked, he stepped over the rim of the bath and turned the shower on. It was one night. That was
it. Never again would he let his self-control fall so completely out the window. A voice in his head pointed
out the fact that he was clearly lying.

The spray of the shower was warm and soothing on his tired muscles, stinging the bite mark on his
shoulder. Groaning softly, Draco began the task of shampooing his hair.

Fifteen minutes later, Draco stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, rubbing the worst of the
moisture off his hair. He pulled on the boxers and jeans, throwing the t-shirt over his head as he hung the
damp towel over the bath. He made his way quietly from the bathroom in case Harry was still asleep. He
was. Draco took Harry’s watch from the bedside table, surprised to see it reading the time as half past
twelve in the afternoon. He never slept that late. Not since Hogwarts anyway.

He opened the room door as wide as he could before it began to creak and slid out the gap, shutting it
with a click. Trudging along the corridor and down the stairs, Draco was instantly greeted by an oddly
relieved sounding Taylor.

“Dragon, just the man I needed to see,” He said as he came wandering out a private office.

“What’s up?” Draco asked lazily as he followed Taylor over to the desk. Taylor was about to say
something when he frowned.

“It’s not like you to wake up this late,” Taylor commented as he picked up and over stuffed sandwich and
bit into it. Draco gave a noncommittal shrug as Taylor chewed loudly. Draco barely resisted turning his
nose up. He might be a disgraced pureblood forced into prostitution but really, chewing with your mouth
closed is something that monkeys could often manage. Taylor swallowed his bite of sandwich before
speaking again, something which Draco was highly thankful for.

“We’ve got two clients coming in this afternoon,” Taylor said before taking a swig from can. Draco
frowned.

“That’s a bit odd,” he remarked and it was Taylor’s turn to shrug.

“It happens sometimes,” he sat the can down and sifted through some paper, “they’ve requested both you
and Sirius. I’ll admit I was surprised, you I could understand but …Sirius, fuck the kid just got here and
he’s being asked for by name,” Draco frowned.

“Did you speak to them face to face?” He asked, trying not to show any concern. Taylor shook his head.

“Nope, one of them phoned about half an hour ago and said they’d be here around one o’clock so you
better get hopping,” Taylor said, taking another bite of sandwich. Draco continued to frown as he went
back up to his room.

It was uncommon for people to come in during the day but not unheard of so there was nothing too
strange there. Two clients asking for two hookers wasn’t a strange thing at all but …asking for ‘Sirius’
when he had been there about three days? Something seemed a bit strange about that. He opened the
door of the room to find his bed empty and the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. There was
probably nothing to be worried about. At least it pulled his thoughts away from Harry, if only for a few
minutes.

Harry came out the shower a mere minute after Draco entered the room, just as Draco was pulling on a
pair of hip hugging black jeans.

“Client?” Harry asked, his head cocked as he ran the towel through it. Draco nodded. “A bit earlier, isn’t
it?” Draco shrugged.

“It’s both of us actually,” Draco said as he pulled on his shirt. Harry nearly dropped the towel.

“Isn’t that …a bit strange?” Harry asked, catching the trousers Draco threw at him.

“A bit, but not unheard of. Stick those on then come here so I can cast the charms on you,” Harry frowned
and stepped over to Draco.

“You’re worried about something,” he said. Draco huffed.

“I’m not worried about anything,” Draco replied. Harry snorted.

“I’ve seen you worried before, Draco,” Harry said as he put his hand on Draco’s hip, “tell me,” Draco
sighed as Harry nudged at his nose, forcing him to tilt his head. Their lips met softly, moving slowly and
their tongues brushed. Draco barely suppressed a rather desperate whimper. He couldn’t understand
how something that felt so right could happen in such a wrong place. They parted and Harry pressed his
forehead to Draco’s.

“We’ve been requested by two clients. It doesn’t happen a lot but it does happen,” Draco began quietly,
“clients often ask for someone by name but…” he trailed off.

“But what?”

“But to request, by name, someone who has been here a total of three days is…”

“Not quite right,” Harry finished for him. Draco shook his head and pulled away.

“There’s probably nothing to be worried about, honestly,” Draco said, hoping his voice sounded more
reassuring than he felt he was being. Harry frowned but his face straightened as he nodded slowly.

He dropped the towel to the floor and pulled on the leather trousers, taking a moment to re-adjust himself.
Draco, having already cast the charms on himself, pointed his wand at Harry’s wrists, watching with
rapture as the cuts and scars faded before disappearing. He cast a second charm on Harry’s hair and it
fixed itself into a dry style. They stepped to the door and Draco opened it.

“Ladies first,” he said mockingly and Harry slapped him on the top of the head as he stepped out into the
corridor. Draco watched Harry walk away for a moment, convince the brunette wasn’t feeling as sure as
he was appearing to be. With only a seconds thought, Draco slipped his wand into the back of his jeans,
covering it with his shirt.

They found the entrance way deserted and Draco called for Taylor.

“Down here,” came a distant voice from one of the corridors. Draco followed Harry down it, jumping
slightly as Taylor stuck his head out one of the rooms. “They’re here already.”

“Where are they?” Harry asked. Draco didn’t fail to miss the slight shake in his voice.

“The dungeon room,” Taylor replied taking a drag on a cigarette Draco hadn’t noticed him holding, “can’t
say I’m surprised- they seem like sadistic types.”

Out the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry tense slightly.

“Don’t worry kiddo,” Taylor said, clapping a chubby hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Dragon will look after you.”

“Anything else we should know?” Draco asked as Taylor let Harry go. Taylor looked thoughtful for a
moment as he took in another drag of tobacco.

“Nope …although I have a feeling the blond one’s going to want to hit someone with that cane.”

Draco’s blood ran cold. It couldn’t be. There was no fucking way. Not after all this time.

“Cane?” Draco heard Harry choke out. The blond looked round to see green eyes looking round and
fearful.

“Yeah, a cane. An expensive looking thing, I’d swear the top is made of pure silver. Could fetch a fair
price,” Taylor said musingly. Draco looked at Harry. His head was shaking, as if saying ‘No, I’m not
going’.

Draco couldn’t think what the hell to do. They could run for it but if it really was whom he thought, he and
Harry would barely get to the end of the street. He had has wand but wasn’t sure how much use he’d be.
Maybe against his father he could hold his own but he had a large suspicion about the identity of the
second man, and that man, that ‘new Dark Lord’ …against him, Draco didn’t stand a hope in hell.

“Will you two get a fucking move on?” Taylor’s voice snapped Draco out of his desperate thoughts. He
noticed Harry had already started off down the corridor, albeit very slowly. Draco caught up with him
quickly.

“It can’t be, it just can’t be,” Harry murmured as they walked. Draco reached out and took Harry’s hand, “I
thought I was done with running,” he said, turning to took at Draco as the stopped at the door. Draco
reached out a hand and cupped Harry’s cheek.

In that moment, Draco felt glad that he had given in. If he had come down here having not shared one
last night with Harry, it would have made everything a thousand times worse. If that were possible.

“What do we do?” Harry whispered but Draco could already see the resignation in his eyes. Draco
shrugged.

“I really don’t know,” he replied. Harry gave a sad nod, the corner of his mouth curving into a small smile.
He leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Draco’s mouth. He turned the door handle and
let Draco’s hand fall from his grasp.

They were fucked, Draco knew it and he knew Harry knew it. He almost silently whispered “Love you” as
Harry pushed the door open.

He had no idea if Harry had heard him.

---

A/N: Is anyone shouting at the screen right now? I sure hope so. Yes, a slightly evil cliffhanger there but,
since I didn't update last week, Chapter 7 will be posted ...about ten minutes from now! You’ve seen the
warnings, I want no complaints about being unprepared for what transpires in the last two chapters. Oh
yeah, Harry sort of topped. That’s a new one! I dedicate that to ‘Incessant Darkness’ who pointed out that
my Draco is always the dominant one. Here, he submitted, although it was kind of accidental on my part!
Back to index
Chapter 7 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
---

Warnings for this chapter: adult language; graphic non-consensual sex; severe violence; torture; major
squick; character death

---
Notes: Now, some of you might have noticed that what is in the flashbacks, actually hints at something in
the chapter …just thought I’d mention that. Now, you’ve seen the warnings, you knew it was coming
…enjoy!

---

He’s huddled in a corner, face blank, eyes dry as his blood pours from his wrists. He slips down the wall,
his head of messy black hair dropping into the pool of warm red, soaking the strands.

His mind is hazy, a quiet buzzing building in his ears and his life slowly ebbs from the cuts. Finally, he will
be free. Finally, he will die.

---

Harry could do nothing but stare into the darkness of the room. He couldn’t walk in, couldn’t open his
mouth to speak for fear of throwing up. He heard Draco whisper, “Love you” but couldn’t bring himself to
reply.

After a moment, he found the willpower to take a few steps into the room and Draco followed. The door
swung shut and he and Draco spun around. There, cane and all, was Lucius Malfoy. He sneered, taking a
step forward, planting his cane on the floor with a dull, metallic clank.

“Did you think you could run forever, my little Dragon?” Lucius practically purred. Draco took a defensive
step in front of Harry that Harry knew would mean very little in the end.

“I’ve been here for months and you haven’t found me,” Draco spat back defiantly.

“Yes,” Lucius said casually, fingering the head of his cane, “you have been particularly difficult to find this
time. Luckily,” he took another step forward, “Mr Potter, led us right to you.”

Harry’s heart missed a beat. It was his fault, his fault Draco was going to be killed. He would be to blame
for another death.

“Us?” Draco asked with a frown.

“Yes,” a silky voice replied from the back of the room, “us.”

Harry and Draco both whirled round. Lucius smirked and stepped around them both, murmuring a spell
that lit the medieval-esque torches on the stonewalls. He took up his position at the side of a tall backed
wooden chair. Seated in the chair, in flowing black robes with long black hair was Severus Snape. Harry
felt his blood run cold under the dark stare, Snape’s eyes hooded as he peered down his hooked nose at
them.

“Your ability to allude us has been mildly impressive, Potter,” Snape said, crossing his legs and adjusting
his robes. Lucius looked at him with ill-concealed awe, “but of course, without any magic, it was bound to
be somewhat harder to find you.”

Harry felt years of hatred, brewing in his stomach in an uncharacteristic flash of powerful emotions. He felt
Draco shift beside him, a soft hand come to rest on his. Lucius’ top lip curved.

“How terribly sweet,” he spat, “reunited with your loved mere days before you will have to watch him die,”
Lucius took a step forward and Harry felt Draco’s grip on his hand tighten. Snape put a placating hand on
Lucius’ arm.

“All in good time, Lucius,” he said softly, his eyes roaming over both of them, “we wouldn’t want them to
not suffer now, would we?” Lucius met Snape’s gaze before inclining his head.

“No, of course not …my Lord.”

A shiver stole up Harry’s spine at the reminder of how powerful this ‘replacement Dark Lord’ was. He was
powerless …literally. No magic, no wand, no weapons, only impending death. Snape whispered
something to Lucius who nodded, propping his cane up against a wall. He unfastened his outdoor robes
slowly, his eyes locking with Harry’s as he did so. Harry gripped Draco’s hand back. They both knew what
was coming and they both knew that there was nothing they could do.

Lucius withdrew his wand and pointed it at Harry. Draco stepped in front of him, surprising all the men in
the room.

“It is too late to be a hero, son,” Harry noticed Draco pulling his wand from the back of his trousers but it
seemed Lucius had noticed as well, “Expelliarmus!” He said rather lazily. Draco’s wand soared into a dark
corner of the room. He cast another spell that Harry didn’t recognize and Draco was tossed across the
room, his shoulder connecting with the wall with a resounding crack.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he stepped to go towards Draco but Lucius shouted ‘Impedementa’ and
Harry found himself routed to the spot. Lucius smirked and swaggered arrogantly over to where Harry
was. He sneered and swung his fist. It connected with the side of Harry’s face and he dropped to the
floor.

He groaned, rolling onto his back, finding Lucius sneering down at him.

“Did you really think you could run forever?” Lucius asked as he crouched down. He ran a long finger
down Harry’s bruised cheek and the brunette flinched away from the touch, “I’d be a little more
cooperative if I were you,” Lucius sneered. Harry glared defiantly up at him, spitting out a glob of saliva
and blood. It landed on the side of Lucius’ mouth and the blond snarled, slapping Harry degradingly on
the face.

“Lucius,” Snape called imperiously, “bring me Draco before you get carried away.”

Lucius sneered but got up and stalked over to where his son lay. He pointed his wand at Draco and
levitated him, directing the stiff body to where Snape was seated. With a flick of his wrist, Draco was in an
upright position. Harry saw Draco’s head lifting slowly from where it was slumped. He groaned, looking
over to Harry and blinking a few times. His silver eyes appeared cloudy and dazed.

Harry tried to mouth something at him but was cut off by a sharp kick to his ribs. He wheezed, sure the
pointed toe of Lucius’ cracked a rib. He gasped for breath as he rolled onto his front, making a pointless
attempt to move nearer to Draco. Lucius stepped on his back and his face smashed into the floor. He
could feel a warm rivulet of blood trickling from his nostril. A strong hand on his shoulder rolled him onto
his back.

Lucius hoisted him up and threw him against a stonewall. The back of his skull connected with the wall
and his vision blurred. His entire body was still locked, leaving him as nothing more than a plank of wood
propped up against a wall. He blinked furiously, trying to focus on Draco.

The perimeter of his vision was still fuzzy but he could see Snape, running pallid fingers down Draco’s
neck as the blond winced and tried to turn away. Scowling, Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at
the side of Draco’s head. The blonde’s eye went wide before they slackened, dimming in colour and
misting over. An imperious curse, Harry realised, bile rising in his throat. Snape wanted Draco to
cooperate. He blinked once against the dizziness, opening his eyes to find Lucius standing in front of him.

The older Malfoy ran the palm of his hand down Harry’s chest, smearing the drops of blood that had fallen
from his nose. His hand travelled lower, fingering at the button of Harry’s trousers. Harry screwed his
eyes shut. He didn’t want to look into the eyes of another person who was going to violate him. He felt the
button pop open and the zip slide down. The trousers were pushed down, bunching at his knees. Lucius
stepped backwards, pointing his wand at Harry’s chest.

“Diffindo!” He said. Harry yelped in pain, a line of flesh on his chest peeling open, blood flowing out and
running down his chest. He felt it curve around the inside of his left thigh, other rivulets dribbling down the
length of his exposed cock.

Harry hissed as Lucius ran his fingers up his penis, spreading the warmth of the blood around. Harry
looked over Lucius’ shoulder, seeing that Snape now had Draco’s shirt off and his jeans open. As he
slowly fisted Harry’s flaccid member, Lucius thrust his other hand inside his robes, pulling out a knife, it’s
silver blade glinting in the torchlight.

Grimacing, Harry turned his head away, screwing his eyes up and willing his body not to react to the
touch. In response, Lucius viciously slashed the exposed, already bruised, side of Harry’s face. The skin
split, blood running down his cheek and he winced. The pain was pulsing through him, giving him an
adrenaline rush and pushing him try and move his arms. But his attempt was in vain.

Lucius noticed and gripped Harry’s hair, using it as leverage to toss him back to the floor. The older
Malfoy pulled Harry’s trousers off and tossed them away. Harry was sure he heard a choked whimper
come from Draco but he couldn’t move his head to see.

“Crucio!” Lucius called and Harry’s body was on fire. A thousand knives, each a hundred times longer
than the one Lucius had were stabbing him all over his body. His insides were burning, bubbling under
the effects of the curse. Fire pulled and twisted at his eyeballs as his bones shook and ached. Finally,
Lucius broke the curse and Harry panted for breath, his lungs not taking in enough oxygen and causing
his head to lighten and vision to blur. He felt Lucius’ hands on his hips, pulling him onto his hands and
knees. Powerful palms pushed apart his thighs and he closed his eyes.

It will be over soon, Harry told himself, all over. Another whimper came from Draco’s direction and Harry
forced himself to look round, the stone of the floor scraping along his cheek. Sure enough, Snape’s hand
was in Draco’s jeans, fisting him slowly as tears leaked from hazy silver eyes. Snape was smirking as he
watched Lucius position himself behind Harry.

Closing his eyes again, Harry braced himself for the inevitable tear of flesh. After a few moments, it came.
He bit his lip, holding back a scream, not wanting to give Lucius or Snape the satisfaction. As Lucius
pulled out and thrust back in, Harry let his scream go. The sound echoed off the walls and Lucius
growled, thrusting deeper and harder. Tears leaked from Harry’s eyes, dripping onto the floor.
Somewhere in the fog that was his mind, he heard Draco emit a strangled groan as he ejaculated against
his will under Snape’s administrations.

A warmth shot into Harry’s insides as Lucius came moments after his son. Vomit rose in Harry’s throat
and he threw up as Lucius pulled out of him, dropping his body back to the floor. He was rolled onto his
stomach, blood trickling from his torn anus and a line of foul smelling vomit dribbling from the corner of his
mouth.

Lucius was standing over him, robes already expertly fixed as if nothing had ever happened. He pointed
his wand at Harry’s face.

“You have escaped death for too long, Potter,” Snape hissed from across the room, “but no longer.
Lucius?” He instructed.

Harry was dimly aware of Lucius nodding, the tip of his wand beginning to glow green. Harry tried to
mouth something to Draco but his lips wouldn’t move. Lucius’ voice, on the other hand, echoed clearly
through the room.
“Avada Kedavra.”

---

Notes: Erm …see you next week!


Back to index
Chapter 8 by Aurora Enkeli Medeis
Notes: I was accused of being evil and mean by eight separate people because of the last chapter’s
cliffhanger. To them, I’d like to say- thanks! This is the final chapter of this debacle, and since I’ve only got
one chapter left of another WIP I am so excited- I’ll only have one WIP! …until I start one of a million
ideas, I can’t choose which. This whole fic was about building up to the last chapter and then this one but
god it’s depressing. I can’t wait to get back to Samsara.

---

Warnings for this chapter: adult language; mentions of non-consensual sex; self-harm; suicide; character
death …again

---

A hand in his jeans, a fog in his brain stopping him from protesting. It doesn’t, however, stop him from
seeing his father raping the man he loves. He can’t control his body, can’t stop himself from climaxing at
the same moment his father spills his seed inside Harry.

“You have escaped death for too long, Potter,” Draco barely heard Snape hiss, “but no longer. Lucius?”

A tear slipped down Draco’s cheek as he watched his father’s wand tip glow green. He saw Harry try and
fail to mouth something to him. Draco willed every muscle in his body to engage in some sort of action but
it was all in vain.

“Avada Kedavra.”

Draco managed to emit a strangled whimper as the green light engulfed Harry, a choked sob wrenched
from the back of his throat as the heavy rise and fall of the dark haired man’s chest stopped.

---

Draco was pushed to the floor, his knees cracking on the stone. A hand on the back of his head gripped
his hair tightly, forcing him to look upwards. It was then that he realised he was kneeling in front of this
new Dark Lord. Snape’s thin mouth was curved into a sneer, tips of yellowing teeth barely visible.

“There was a time,” Snape began, pointing his wand at Draco’s head, “when you could have stood by my
side,” he ran a pallid finger down Draco’s cheek and the blond shuddered, realising that the imperius
curse was fading, “you would have been worshipped, adored, not to mention more powerful than you can
ever imagine,” Draco tried to pull himself from his father’s grip but he wasn’t strong enough yet.

“You picked the wrong path, Draco,” Snape continued, the tips of his fingers ghosting over Draco’s lips,
“however,” he said, sitting back in his chair, “I have no desire to kill you,” Draco’s eyes went wide with
surprise. Snape snorted, “do not be so surprised,” he leant forward again, voice lowering dangerously, “I
have need for a whore …it is all you are worth.”

Lucius hauled Draco roughly up from the floor and pushed him towards the door.

“You will return to your room in order to retrieve a small, blue covered book from Potter’s belongings,” he
instructed, “on the way, make an excuse to that pathetic human being behind the desk. Tell him there is a
problem in another room. He will go to it and be locked in. I will take Potter’s body away and you will
return here to our Lord,” he spat.

Draco’s mind quickly searched for an escape route out of his bedroom.

“Do not take me for a fool, Draco,” Severus said silkily, “if you do not return within the next ten minutes I
will make you watch as I personally remove your inner organs one at a time.”

Draco paled. There was nothing he could do but follow the orders, especially with the after effects of the
imperius still lingering. Draco nodded once and wrenched himself from his father’s grasp.

“I will do as you ask ...my Lord,” uttering the submissive words made Draco’s stomach turn as he opened
the door. Part of him wanted to look to Harry’s body, even holding the smallest hope that he had survived,
but he couldn’t do it. Draco almost laughed- it was the final display of his weak, pathetic character.

He left the room and Lucius closed the door. Draco made an attempt to hide all signs of abuse under his
hair as he walked quickly through the foyer.

“There’s something going on in the Water Room, it doesn’t sound good,” Draco said, looking anywhere
that wasn’t at Taylor. Luckily the man didn’t even look at Draco as he huffed and stormed off. Draco
sighed and nearly ran up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door behind him. There must be
something he could do, anything.

His thoughts were cut off when he saw Harry’s bag propped up against the wall. Dropping to his knees in
front of it, he tipped the contents onto the floor, the requested book landing squarely on top of the pile.
What the fuck was this and why was it so important?

He ran his fingers over the leather cover, eyes burning as the knowledge that the man he’d loved was
really gone forced itself to the forefront of his mind. Draco flipped through the pages, notes jotted
everywhere in Harry’s untidy scrawl. Some were inconsequential, others were splashed with tears. Finally
he reached the last two pages and his heart stopped. Slumping back against the edge of his bed, Draco
read the first few lines.

Hermione: Ireland- Dublin or there abouts

Ron: with Hermione

Weasleys: Grim. Place

Remus: Grim. Place and/or London

It went on in that format for two pages, several locations crossed out and replaced with either ‘unknown’
or ‘dead’. Draco closed the book and gripped it tightly. Every one of Harry’s friends and pseudo-family
were in there, last known whereabouts all listed. There were also several names that Draco recognized to
be members of the Order of the Phoenix. If Snape got this …there’d be no one left to fight him.

Draco hauled himself up off the floor and stumbled into the bathroom, flipping on the light. With a deep
breath, he tore out the back pages and tossed the book to the floor. He ripped the pages into six bits
before dropping them into the toilet. He sighed as he flushed, watching the bits of paper swirl around
before disappearing.

Draco knew it to be last brave act of a damned soul. Opening a drawer, he extracted a wooden handled
knife, it’s blade a good five inches long. There was nothing left to do now. Snape would undoubtedly kill
him for this insubordination and he would drag it out, taking pleasure in Draco’s pain. The blond trailed
the knife over the inside of his wrist.

Well, he thought, snorting as he did so. He wasn’t going to give Snape the satisfaction. With a powerful
thrust he plunged the knife into his wrist, the vein severing. Blood spurted up onto Draco’s face as he
pulled the knife out. The dark red liquid was pouring out quicker than he thought it would. He fell forwards,
barely grasping the edge of the bath to slow his fall to the floor. He attempted to take the knife in his left
hand to slit his right wrist but his fingers wouldn’t function, the nerves having also been cut.

His hearing began to mute as he collapsed onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Had he believed in
heaven he would have been sure that was where Harry now was, sitting as a hero on a chair of red and
gold.

Had he believed in hell, Draco could have sworn he tasted the brimstone as his vision went black.

---

We are damned and we are dead


all god's children to be sent
to our perfect place in the sun
and in the dirt

Marilyn Manson- ‘A Place In The Dirt’

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Finite

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