A/N: this was written for the tomarry big bang on tumblr. a big thank you to jaleesa for beta'ing this fic! original au idea by agendertomriddle on tumblr. this fic is also on ao3.
"They fired you?" Hermione echoed Harry's previous statement, pausing in her action of stirring sugar into her coffee. "Oh that's awful Harry, I'm sorry. Did they say why?"
"I was late for my shift one too many times." His mood was dismal and it showed as he wearily pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Not my fault I have rotten luck. The train late every single time, for some reason or another."
"Well, at least you still have your pizza delivery job." She was gnawing on her bottom lip, mind at work as usual. "What about your savings?"
"Uh- about that…"
"Harry."
"The camera was on sale! I've wanted it for ages you know that, Hermione."
"You should always try to have money saved up for when things like this happen."
"I do! I can pay my rent for maybe… the next two months. If you forget about eating." He was used to instant noodles for dinner, anyway. It was nothing compared to Mrs. Weasley's home made food but he could deal with it.
"It's so difficult to find a job nowadays." She had completely pushed her coffee aside and was fiddling with her phone. "I'll text Ron, maybe he knows about any openings."
"It's fine, really!" Harry, ever conscious of troubling others, held out his hand as if trying to stop her.
"Really, Harry. You know we'll always help you out." She paused, looking up and offering Harry a tired smile. She had been overworked recently: it showed in the bags under her eyes and the extra frizziness of her hair. It just made Harry feel guilty for bringing up his own problems, but it had just slipped out.
They were sitting in a coffee shop, having met up after not seeing each other for two weeks. Hermione went to an entirely different University, but it happened to not be too far from his own, so they tried to make some time to meet up someway once in a while.
Ron couldn't make it so it was just the two of them, catching up. Hermione had been telling him about something or another that happened at her parents' Orthodontic practice before he dropped the news of his job.
"Speaking of Ron, how is it going?" Harry changed the topic, picking at the muffin they had bought to share. It was blueberry because desserts with a lot of chocolate weren't to Hermione's tastes.
"We watched a film last night and he asked me questions the whole way through." Hermione smiled, eyes distant as she recalled.
"Still doing that, huh?" He mirrored her fond smile, remembering every movie night between the three of them. It had become less common the busier they each became and eventually, stopped happening at all.
"Unless we watch a horror film, but you know I'm not interested in cheap scares and Ron's nightmares kicking me awake." She brought her cup up to her lips to take a long sip after blowing on it.
Harry snorted, knowing all too well the feeling of being woken up by a thrashing Ron kneeing him in the kidney. Not something he wanted to experience again.
The three of them had attended the same school since secondary. Harry was grateful he had somehow managed to weasel out of attending the school the Dursleys had wanted for him, otherwise he wouldn't have met Ron and Hermione.
"Are you coming round to the Weasleys next week for dinner?" He changed the subject, glancing around the shop they were in as he waited for a reply.
"Of course, unless anything comes up."
"I could never be a law student." He shook his head, looking at her with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. Every time he talked to Hermione she seemed to be piled with work. He would say that was true for most of them, but Hermione took great pleasure in taking up the maximum workload and then some. It was awe-inspiring.
"Well," She sniffed, chin rising ever so slightly "I do enjoy what I do. I can't imagine going through this course if I hated the topic."
"Don't burn yourself out, Hermione." He had only seen it happen a few times, but it was always a lingering concern in the back of his mind. Sometimes Hermione was so invested in the final result that she ignored the smaller details along the way.
Hermione's phone lit up and vibrated loudly before she could reply to Harry. She picked it up, unlocking it swiftly. "It's Ron. He said he doesn't know about any jobs, but Dean said that the art department is looking for models and they'll pay."
"Really?" Harry sat forward, the news easing a knot of worry in his chest he hadn't even realised he had.
"That's great news, he said to go ask at the department, and the advert went up pretty recently." She looked up from her phone to smile at him.
Harry returned the smile before hesitating, glancing between his empty cup of tea and his watch before beginning to stand. "I better go ask then before too many people volunteer." He began shoving his arms into his coat, pushing his chair back.
"Tell me what they said later and good luck!" She was watching him leave, one hand wrapped around her cup.
"Yeah, course! " Harry leaned over the table, giving Hermione a quick one armed hug before picking up his bag and leaving. He was sorry to cut their meeting short but he knew she understood. A potential job was a pretty big deal.
It was only when he was sitting on the bus did he reflect on what exactly he was applying for. A model? Harry had never modelled for anything before; he had always been on the other side of the camera so to speak. He stared at his reflection in the glass of the window. Would they accept anyone? Even him, with his dark skin and hair that never laid flat? They were art students who just needed anyone to draw, right? It shouldn't matter what he looked like.
Harry had always been a little self-conscious of his appearance, but over time he had found more confidence. But how could he have not been self-conscious, when he grew up with the Dursleys as his family? Never a polite word to be found in that house, from anyone. In his head he could still hear Petunia's shrill voice shrieking about the state of his hair, Dudley's jeering voice insulting his circular glasses and Vernon commenting about the colour of his skin.
As Harry grew older it hadn't taken him long to realise he was different to everyone around him. His cousin, his aunt and his uncle all had white skin. Most of his neighbours were the same. So were the children in his primary school class.
He wasn't the only one that noticed.
He thought it shouldn't matter but apparently it did. Parents whispered to their children about him when they picked them up from school. He heard the word 'foreigner' thrown around and had to look the word up to realise what it meant.
It was an ugly feeling that arose in him when he realised that was why he was being avoided in the playground, why his cousin didn't find it hard to recruit other kids to chase him around and spit insults at him.
It took him a while to understand why they were so ignorant, despite the fact he was no different than the rest of them. When he spoke he sounded the same as everyone else, he ate the same food and enjoyed the same books, but it wasn't enough.
It had left its scars on him. However, finding friends who didn't share the same mind set had helped him the most.
Hermione with her unfaltering, headstrong attitude and own dark skin helped him see the lies in the comments he had endured in his childhood. Ron, gauche but with a big heart, was always there with the offer of his friendship. Not only them, but all those he had met through them. The Weasleys, Neville, Luna, Cedric and Cho.
The last two had meant something special to him. He had been in a relationship with them both. Cho had been brief, and his first experience of being good enough to be wanted. Cedric had come a little later, when he had gotten older and realised exactly who he was. He couldn't compare them to each other when they were so different. Last he had heard that they were both dating each other.
Although they didn't talk often, things had ended amicably and he hoped they were happy together. Of course, he would always have a special place in his heart for them both, as cheesy as it sounded.
It was those relationships that partly helped raise his self-esteem. Though no longer living with the Dursleys played a big role, too.
He had worked hard and moved out, with the help of his parents' savings. He found a passion in photography, which he was currently studying. For once he was getting to do what he wanted, with nothing to stop him.
With these thoughts in his head he had gotten off the bus and followed the signs to the art department.
He had asked the receptionist, who had directed him to go to a particular office, which he found with little trouble. Perhaps it was a sign that things were finally going right for him.
A sign on the door read 'A. Dumbledore.' Steeling himself, Harry knocked firmly. He wasn't sure how this would go at all, and wondered if it would be anything like an intense job interview. He was dressed nicely. But not his best, he thought, looking down at his dress shirt and jeans. Everything else had been dirty, otherwise he'd be wearing his usual attire of a t-shirt or sweater.
Truth to be told, he'd been in a little bit of a slump after being fired. Buying that new camera had both elevated and sunk his mood. Elevated because he had his eye on it for a good while and gotten it just when it had gone on sale. Sunk because of the depressing reality that was watching your bank account balance drop steeply.
He wasn't completely hopeless though: he still had one job. It was expensive living in London. His hobby did cost a fair amount of money but compared to art it was hardly much in the grand scheme of things. It could be worse, Harry reasoned.
He glanced around after knocking, eyeing the paintings hung up in the hallway. He'd heard how much all these materials cost roughly and it was exhausting just thinking about the number.
His head swung back round when the door in front of him opened. An elderly man stood there, looking at him expectantly.
"Can I help you, young man?" Dumbledore didn't seem annoyed by his sudden appearance, smiling pleasantly. He had a long, white beard and eyes that were a clear shade of blue.
"Er- Hello, my name is Harry Potter. I heard that you were hiring models?" Harry wished he had a leaflet or something of the sort to hold up, to make himself feel less awkward.
Dumbledore blinked, something in his words making him examine Harry more closely than the previous cursory once over. Probably his suitability to be a model, Harry reckoned.
"Yes, you are correct. We could use one or two more. Why don't you come in?" Dumbledore stood back, opening the door wider. Harry stepped into the room, looking around as covertly as possible. It was an interesting room, every inch of it seemed personalised. Bookcases with trinkets on the shelves, alongside thick books. Some artwork was on the wall, though Harry didn't look closely, too aware he was here for a job and not a social visit.
"Take a seat." Dumbledore sat behind his desk, appearing at home, and gestured to the few seats in front of the desk. Harry sat on one, manoeuvring his bag so it rested on his lap. "So you would like to life model for some of the classes?"
"Yes, sir." Harry had vaguely heard the term before, but never looked it up. "There aren't any specific requirements, are there?" Dean would have told him through Ron if there were, right?
"No, not at all. Although experience would be preferred, I wouldn't turn away amateurs. Do you have any experience in this field, Harry?"
"No I don't, but I can learn quickly." Harry injected as much conviction as he could into the words, determined to not be turned away due to his lack of familiarity. Something about his statement caused the faintest of smiles to cross Dumbledore's lips.
"Of course, it's not an easy task for a beginner, to bare yourself in front of so many people. It requires a certain kind of confidence."
"…Bare myself?" Harry repeated the words, feeling like he was missing something crucial in this situation. Dumbledore paused at that, peering at him over his glasses. His eyebrows were raised.
"You must know that this is nude modelling job?" Dumbledore seemed concerned about his ignorance of what he was applying for. Harry flushed at the look, swallowing hastily before speaking.
"R-right, yes I'm fine with that!" Outwardly, he was struggling to keep his confident countenance while on the inside his brain was working in overdrive to process the new information.
Why hadn't it occurred to him that it would be nude? He thought back to the many great works of art he had seen and how many of the models were nude. Why would they draw him with clothes? It was a silly thing to assume.
He could do it; it wasn't really a big deal. It wasn't like he'd never been naked in front of someone else. He thought back to the sports changing rooms, where being naked wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Besides, it was for the money.
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore was resting his hands on his desk, leaning forward. Something about his gaze compelled Harry to be truthful.
Harry thought about the camera in his bag, that he had spent far too much money on. His former boss telling him he was fired.
"Yes, I'm definitely sure." He repeated, more sure of his decision now that he wasn't taken off guard.
"I'm glad to hear that then, Harry." Dumbledore didn't seem so serious anymore, smiling once more.
Harry left the office with all the details he needed, hand not cramping as it usually did after filling out forms. He was also feeling lighter, knowing he had a job under his belt. It wouldn't pay as much as his previous job, but at least it was something to keep him going.
He resolved to call both Ron and Dean to thank them for the heads up on the opportunity. He also had to tell Hermione, before he forgot.
Now, he had the weekend to deal with the reality that was taking off his clothes in front of an entire art class.