Caricature of Intimacy
By Riley Leah Grace Hope
SUMMARY: In a post-Voldemort world, Draco thinks there is only one way to redeem himself and Harry struggles with a mundane, busy lifestyle he doesn't want. Both may fall in love but they might just destroy each other in the process.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter and Co. Obviously. God, if only I did.
WARNINGS: Slash, prostitution and language.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first attempt at fiction, meaning first attempt at H/D and slash. Please review? Thanks so much!
Chapter One:
DREAM
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
-Edgar Allan Poe
Pale moonlight shone over the dew-drenched ground as a hooded figure hurried through a homey road. The person's eyes were cast down, ignoring the softly swaying landscape around him. In the darkness, everything is enhanced. Including the prickly feeling of threat and fear that rises on the back of your neck.
The paved road was full of pretty, but rather bland-looking homes all made of varying shades of brick and stone. He slowed down as he reached one near the end of the cul-de-sac, made of red bricks and white shutters with a puffing chimney releasing lazily drifting clouds of gray. His pale features wrinkled in disgust, however, as his eyes scanned the green grass, falling on a garden of almost-impossibly perfect lilies and petunias. They shimmered easily in the moonlight, almost as if lit by magic.
He reached the door and pressed his knuckles against the doorframe, feeling the cold wood against his skin. Nausea overcame him and he paused, nervousness and need fighting for control. He took a deep breath and knocked.
The door opened almost instantly by a red-haired woman whose look of disgust was evident on her pretty features. "Malfoy," she snarled. "Harry's expecting you." The man merely gave her a look of irritation and waited for her to allow him to pass.
"He's in the drawing room," she added, giving him a look of strong distrust and then moved out of the way, making a face as he came in, pulling off his hood slowly, allowing the woman to lead him into a cozy room, lit by a warm fire in the brick fireplace. The only furniture in the room were two armchairs placed directly across from one another. One of the chairs was already occupied, by a dark-haired man whose features slid in and out of the shadows in time with the flickering fire. He stood upon seeing his guest.
"Malfoy." The suspicion in his voice was evident and his face had turned hard. Draco duly noted he did not offer his hand to shake in greeting and did not offer his.
"Potter." He paused, glancing down at the seat nearest him, as if wondering whether he should sit.
"What do you want?" The man demanded, sitting down again, looking agitated. Draco gave him a twisted smile and toyed with the button of his robes before taking a seat in the chair across from him.
Draco glanced back at the woman, who was still standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, a bitter expression on her face and replied, "Not until your girlfriend leaves."
"Whatever you're going to say in front of me, you can say in front of her."
The woman seemed momentarily surprised, and then pleased. She glanced at Draco, who scowled visibly. "She's weak. She doesn't need to hear these things," He said harshly.
"She's stronger then you'll ever be."
"No, Harry, it's okay. This is your thing, helping people," the woman interrupted. "I don't want to spend any more time with Malfoy then I have to anyway." She smiled softly at him and left, closing the door behind her. Draco's scowl furthered at her words.
Harry watched the door for a moment, his eyebrows raised, but then he turned to Draco and gave him a look that clearly read, 'Well?'
"I expect you're wondering why I'm here," Draco said coolly. Harry took out his wand and Draco flinched but Harry only conjured two sparkling glasses of caramel liquid. One of them lazily floated toward Draco who took it silently.
"Not really," Harry replied, sipping his drink calmly.
"No?"
"No," Harry confirmed. He settled back in his chair easily, crossing his legs and giving Draco a serene smile. He seemed to enjoy this position of power.
"You're not wondering?"
"I already know," Harry took another sip and watched Draco calmly. "You want me to rally for you at the Ministry. Get your wand back, unfreeze your vault, release your father from Azkaban..."
Draco paused. "That was the plan, yes."
"And what, exactly, makes you think I'd want to do those things? What have you done- or ever will do- for me?"
Draco swallowed. It was true, he had nothing. "Well, I could give you money, if you unfreeze my vault."
"I don't want your money, Malfoy."
"Of course you don't," Draco sneered, before he could stop himself. "You're Harry Potter. I expect you have a nice stash of Thank-You-For-Saving-Us galleons. A nice consolation prize for your parents and all your loved ones; Sirius Black, the house elf we kicked out, that stupid werewolf you loved so much, all those Muggles--"
Before he knew what was happening, blood was flowing freely down the front of his robes and a harsh pain was throbbing on his face. Draco swore loudly. Harry had hit him.
"You broke my nose!"
Harry examined him. "No, I didn't," he said in a surprisingly calm voice. "It's just a little bloody." He retraced his steps and sat back down, watching Draco carefully. Draco didn't reply.
"If you only came here to make stupid comments--"
"I didn't."
Harry didn't say anything and merely took another long sip. Draco swore again and angrily wiped at his dripping face. Red blood seeped into his sleeve. Harry made an irritated sound and picked up his wand, giving it a small flick and the flow from Draco's nose instantly stopped, although dried blood still caked on his chin and fingers.
"I could--" Draco's voice cracked. He licked his lips, wincing at the metallic tang of his own blood and tried again. "I could," He paused, unsure of how to continue. "Do things."
"Do things?" Harry looked confused.
"Yes. Things. In exchange. I'll do anything. Even, even, well, even well sex, if that's what you fancy." Draco flushed violently and lowered his head.
Harry, who had been taking another sip of his drink, choked and coughed. "Wh-what?" He began to turn red as well and Draco felt his face heat up even more.
"You don't understand!" He added quickly, desperately. "I have nothing. We have nothing. I'd do anything to help my family. We have no money, no magic, no power, no prestige. I could never get a job, not with my name, and my mother has never worked a day in her life, she doesn't understand."
Harry was still spluttering and red and Draco's cheeks were still warm so he stood up quickly, abruptly, and said, "Never mind. I can see you can't help me."
"Malfoy, I-" Harry started but Draco had opened the door again and walked out, almost barging into the red-headed, freckly woman who shot a nasty look at him.
"Are you leaving?" She asked eagerly. Then made a face. "Is that blood?"
Draco ignored her and pulled open the front door, shutting it firmly behind him. The moon was bright enough to bathe everything in an eerie glow, leaving no need for streetlamps and he pulled up his hood once more, hiding his pale features; and hurried along the street before slipping into a dark alcove and disappearing from view entirely.
//
"What did he want?" Ginny asked quietly, shifting so that she could look at Harry. He glanced into her eyes and frowned. They had been laying contently, her head on his chest and he stroking her hair, silently, easily. He didn't really want to talk.
"Oh, you know, a wand, his father out of Azkaban, his money..." Harry closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the top of Ginny's head.
"And he expected you to just hand it to him? After all he's done to you?" Ginny said incredulously.
"I'm already trying to get his father out of prison and to convince the Ministry to let him have a wand, remember," Harry said softly. "The Ministry- and I- just have our hands really full right now."
"But, still, to just come here and demand it."
"He offered something." Harry was still in a state of surprise over the whole idea. Anybody offering sex to him was surprising, but it being Malfoy, who was a boy, was even more shocking.
Like you can talk, Harry thought irritably. Your dreams, remember?
"What? Money?"
Harry paused, debating. Ginny would probably be horrified by the whole thing. "Yes, money. Among other things."
"What else could he offer? To stop being a git?" Harry smiled at the drowsy sound of her voice and didn't bother replying, instead listening to the even sound of her breathing.
He turned his head and watched the moon nearly block out the stars with its brightness and waited patiently for Ginny to fall asleep before finally allowing tiredness to overtake him.
//
The house was unappealing. It had a mangled, shingled roof and darkened, broken brick walls. A gnarled, dead tree loomed over one window, where a silhouette of a sitting figure stood overlooking the lawn of crinkled leaves and carelessly tossed litter.
"Draco?"
Draco opened the door and found his mother sitting stiffly in a chair facing a small, grimy window; dirty, ragged yellow curtains hung haphazardly from them.
"Did you visit Potter?" She asked, hearing his footsteps.
"Yes." He walked over to the chair and quickly kissed Narcissa's cheek. He then straightened up and walked over to the window where he began opening the curtains. Sunlight had begun to replace moonlight.
"And?"
"He is as full of himself as ever."
"I do hope you controlled your temper, Draco. We cannot afford to be ill-mannered in these times."
Draco ignored this comment and said, "I offered myself to him."
"You what?"
"I offered myself to him," he repeated dully, fingers still holding onto the frayed, yellow fabric.
"But why? He has a girlfriend, if the newspapers are correct. He does not need a mistress. And a male one, at that, who has been tried for following the Dark Lord."
Draco gripped the curtains more tightly, his knuckles turning white. "I would not be his mistress," he said stiffly. He turned and faced Narcissa once more. "I'm going out."
She watched him for a moment, not answering, then said carefully, "Be back soon. You need sleep."
He ignored her and walked to the door, slamming it behind him. He never noticed the pained, sad look that crossed his mother's face but he did hear softly whispered words that fell from his mother's lips like raindrops.
"Don't hurt yourself."
Draco fingered the doorknob with a small sigh.
"Too late."
//
Raindrops pitter-pattered against the enchanted windowpane of Mr. Weasley's office.
"I assure you, Harry. The Malfoys will be back to normal before long. Draco should be receiving his wand in no less than a year and Lucius should be released shortly after that." Mr. Weasley gave him a tired smile and began shuffling papers.
"And their vault?" Harry asked.
"Unfrozen in a short period of time." Mr. Weasley paused, and then added, "Harry, you do realize people will begin to wonder why exactly you want to help the Malfoys so bad and, frankly, I'm curious as well. You weren't exactly fond of them during your schooling."
"They were bullied by Voldemort. And if it wasn't for Narcissa's lie, I'd probably dead right now." Harry ignored the flinch Mr. Weasley gave.
"I still think you should talk to Kingsley. He is the Minister, after all," Mr. Weasley said. He began shuffling through his papers once more. "Now if only I could find that file…"
"Kingsley is busy," Harry replied. "I really don't want to bother him."
"That's understandable but, Harry, we can only do so much. The Malfoy name will still be disgraced. They won't have the same prestige or power they used to have."
"I know that," Harry said petulantly. "I don't think they deserve all that power or prestige, they just abused it. But--"
"Dad, where's the file on the case for Gregory Goyle?" Percy's voice suddenly rang around the office. Harry turned to see a disgruntled red-haired man adjusting his glasses haughtily. "Harry," Percy added, giving Harry a curt nod. His lips quirked up in a small smile though, before a serious look replaced his features once more.
"I know it's here somewhere..." Mr. Weasley said, pulling out a drawer.
"Honestly Dad," Percy muttered. "Accio file."
Harry watched the rain slide down the windowpane and sighed.