DISCLAIMER: I'm not involved in the Harry Potter franchise in any way apart from being a fan! This story is rated 'M' (Though I like 'R' better, personally), and contains offending scenes (rape, sadism, masochism, violence and others) that some people may find offensive. You have been warned...
"Harry, you're scaring me!" Draco cried fearfully. His eyes widened as Harry stormed over to where he was sitting and roughly dragged him up by his shirt into a standing position.
"Fucking scaring you, am I?" he barked in Draco's face. "AM I?"
Draco nodded, hardly daring to look into his eyes. "Y-yes," he stammered. "Please, just s-stop it."
"Make me," Harry spat threateningly, but he released him from his iron grip nonetheless. Draco shrunk back into the nearby chair he was formerly occupying close to tears, desperately trying not to let them overspill. He didn't want to make Harry any angrier than he already was. He'd never seen this side of him. He'd lost his temper before, obviously, but never to an extent like this. He'd turned into a full-fledged psycho and if Draco could have run out of the house they were currently staying in, he would have done so without a second thought.
But he couldn't leave, not now. They'd achieved far too much already for him to ruin it all by running away. No, they needed to stick together. It had worked up until now and it would work up until they died.
"Those bastards!" Harry screamed as he stormed around the derelict room that only saw light from the shining moon outside, that was pouring in through smashed glass windows. "Those complete and utter ungrateful bastards! After all we fucking did!"
Draco nodded timidly. "It's not fair," he spoke up.
"Too right it's not fucking fair," Harry spat viciously. "Those fucking cunts couldn't have taken take Voldemort in a million years and when we finally do they want to fucking throw us in Azkaban?" The words he'd spoken aloud ran through his mind again and as he comprehended their meaning, he screeched, "fucking ungrateful," and kicked hard at a chest of drawers which, having been on their last legs already, obediently collapsed.
Draco cast a nervous glance at the door, expecting a hoard of dementors to sweep in at any given moment. "Is it safe to stay here?" he asked nervously.
"Scared daddy might catch us?" Harry said nastily. Draco visibly flinched at this and Harry, though fuelled up as he was, softened a little. "Sorry," he said quietly. Draco gave a nervous nod in reply. "But it just makes me so angry," Harry snarled, continuing his tirade against the entire wizarding world. "It makes me so fucking angry. After all we did!" He whipped out his wand and pointed it at an unused table in the corner of the room, ready to cause some mass destruction.
"Harry, don't!" Draco cried in fright.
Harry turned to him in response, his eyes narrowed, his hand that wasn't holding his wand balled up into a tight fist.
"If you use magic, they'll be able to trace us," Draco gabbled. Harry's features relaxed and he even managed to give Draco a weak smile.
"Never thought of that," he replied.
"In fact, we should get rid of these now and get the hell out of here before someone finds us," Draco went on, but Harry shook his head.
"We need a plan first – or at least the start of one. There's no use leaving our wands behind if we don't know what we're going to do next."
"Right," Draco agreed. "But we need to make one fast."
Harry nodded. "Okay, so at the moment we can't be traced, right?"
"Right."
"Are you sure you did the potion right?"
Draco swallowed nervously. "Well I followed the method exactly as it was shown."
Harry grimaced. He needed a sure-fire yes or no answer. He needed someone who knew the potion off by heart, not someone who had to rely on following it from an old tattered book. He needed ... Hermione.
He gave his mind a mental shake. Don't even think about that fucking bitch. "That'll have to do, I guess." Draco's face fell slightly. "They haven't found us so far, it's probably worked," Harry said, trying to brighten him up a little. Draco gave him a tiny smile, before quickly glancing at the front door, not wanting to tempt fate.
"Do you reckon it's worth trying to get a black wand?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head.
"Too risky," he said firmly. "All we need is for one person to spot us and we'll be in shit."
"Okay, no wands," Harry agreed. "And definitely no money, right?"
Draco sighed. "Right. You know it's going to be difficult without any though."
Harry echoed his sigh. "Don't I just." He came across a flicker of hope. "Do you have any money in muggle currency, by any chance?"
Draco looked appalled. "No!"
"Now is not the time to act like a fucking superior snob Draco," Harry said viciously.
"I wasn't!"
"Yes you were, you did a –"
"I didn't mean it like –"
" – Is really important but if you –"
" – I think I know that Harry but you –"
A loud thump from outside shut the boys up, and they stood up quickly, clutching on to each other in fright, one hand curled around their respective wands. They stayed like that for several minutes, before Harry whispered, "I think it might have just been a fox or something."
Draco was shaking visibly. Harry hugged him tighter. "It'll be okay," he said, in soothing tones.
"No it won't," Draco said, opening the floodgates and letting the unshed tears pour out. "We're going to get caught, I just know it!"
Harry held Draco at arms length for a moment. "We will if you think like that," Harry said directly. "You can't think like that Draco, stay positive."
"Why don't we just turn ourselves in, Harry? They might go easy on us if –" He was silenced by a sharp slap around the face by Harry. His own hand flew up to the reddening handprint that was slowly forming on his pale cheek.
"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly to an open-mouthed Draco. "But we can't turn ourselves in. Not now."
"But they might –"
Harry shook his head. "No." Draco still looked apprehensive. "If we turn ourselves in now, they will not go easy on us Draco, and you know it. All they'll do is throw us into Azkaban."
"But they might be lenient and shorten our sentence," Draco managed to gabble before Harry cut him off.
"So?" he snorted contemptuously. "If you stay in Azkaban for a day you'll never recover from it."
"That's not true," Draco sniffed.
"Well, not exactly," Harry admitted. "You'll get over it I suppose. But the memories will still be there. You'll still remember the coldness, the darkness and the feeling that you'll never, ever live again. And face it Draco, we will be put in there for life for using the unforgiveables, no question about it."
He hugged Draco again, who did not readily fall into the hug like last time. He remembered Harry's face as he uttered those two fateful words. He remembered the utter look of twisted contempt on his face, and it had frightened him. He had never seen so much hatred being emitted from one person; the same person who was now clutching him tightly.
"What did it ... feel like?" The words came out before he had chance to stop himself. He felt Harry's shoulders tense against his body and he shut his eyes tightly, fearful at what might happen next.
It was silent for a couple of seconds before Harry spoke up, in quite a determined tone. "I felt hate," he said, his arms still wrapped around Draco's neck. "I felt so much hate churning up inside of me that I thought I was going to explode. And that just fuelled it on even more. As I saw the green light forming at the tip of my wand I wanted to laugh. I wanted to laugh because I knew he was going to die at any moment. And I knew that laughing about death was a hateful thing to do which just made my wand glow that little bit greener. I saw it hit him squarely in the chest and as he screamed in pain, I wanted to hear that sound forever. And when I saw him lying on the floor, shrivelled up and twitching slightly, I didn't feel relieved and I didn't feel satisfied." He leant back and stared into Draco's slate grey eyes. "I just wished he'd get up so I could do it all over again."
Draco swallowed. "You really felt that you had to kill him that bad?"
Harry shook his head, a small smile creeping up on his lips. "I didn't feel like I had to kill him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to see him die and I wanted to be the one to make it happen. That's the only way unforgiveables work." He gave a small smirk. "Surely you should know that?"
Draco pulled away, breaking the link between them and sat down on the chair. "I didn't kill anyone," he said quietly.
"You had control over someone's life," Harry said pointedly.
"But I didn't kill anyone," Draco insisted through gritted teeth.
Harry nodded. "Okay," he said nonchalantly. He took a step closer to Draco. "And what did you feel?"
Draco's head jerked up. "What?"
"You must have held something against your father to be able to use the imperious on him."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "It was just something I had to do for the plan to work."
Harry chuckled. "That's not how it works and you know it."
Draco shrugged. "Worked for me."
Harry sat down on the floor in front of where Draco was sitting on the chair. "So you did it purely because you had to?"
Draco nodded.
"So it wasn't because you wanted to control him? It wasn't because you wanted to have a strong hold over his life just as he did over yours?"
Draco remained silent.
"It wasn't because that you wanted to control every limb, every bone and every muscle in his body?" Harry continued with a sly smile playing upon his lips. "It wasn't because that for the past sixteen years he dominated every single element of your life and you wanted to do the same? It wasn't because you wanted to cause him the biggest humiliation? It wasn't because you wanted to make him do the one thing you knew he never ever would? It wasn't because you wanted to have that much control, that much power over him to make him break that honour?"
Draco's mouth curled upwards meanly. "And I'd do it all over again."
Another loud noise – this time a rattling sound – came from outside. Both boys jumped up again.
"We should maybe move soon," Harry said after a couple of minutes of silence. Both boys sat down again shakily.
Draco nodded in agreement, trying to stop his heart from racing at a million miles an hour. "What's the plan then?" he asked, getting back to the original train of thought.
Harry thought carefully for a moment. "How are you doing sleep-wise?"
"I feel like I could run a marathon twice over," Draco replied truthfully.
Harry nodded. "I say we try and get some food then, while it's dark, and then hide when it gets light tomorrow morning."
"Where are we going to get food from? We haven't got any money at all," Draco pointed out.
Harry gave him a rueful smile. "Sorry Draco, but we're going to have to get used to not having any money at all. We're going to have to steal food, or beg for it or something." He got up from the floor and dusted the back of his jeans.
"Great," said Draco, getting up from the chair. "We're going to become criminals in both worlds."
Harry ignored him as they padded over to the front door. He glanced behind him and saw Draco was scared, even in the darkness. He felt for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Ready?" he whispered.
"Yeah," Draco whispered back. He thought he was going to vomit from fright.
Harry pulled at the door handle but it wouldn't budge. "Pull harder," Draco urged. Harry wrenched it open as hard as he could. The one remaining glass panel in the door smashed as it came into contact with the wall and both boys ducked down into the shadows with bated breath. The smash had sounded sickeningly loud in the middle of the night and they were sure that it was going to alert someone straight away.
"Shall we make a run for it?" Harry whispered to Draco.
"Yeah, go now!"
And it was at this command that both boys ran off into the night of muggle London, not knowing where the streets led. Nor which direction they were heading in. All they both knew is that they must stick together in order to survive. Alone they were nothing. Together, they at least stood a slim chance of living.
It had been exactly sixty-seven hours since the boys had departed from the house and they had eaten less than half of a meal between them. When shopkeepers spotted the dirty pair eyeing up food hungrily, they sent the watchful eyes of security guards to check up on them, and although they had nothing to lose, they didn't fancy the idea of summoning too much attention to themselves by getting caught shoplifting, especially as they were paranoid that dementors were just around every corner.
Harry suggested that they eat food that people dropped on the floor, a suggestion that made Draco's jaw drop in horror. It had let to a squabbling between the pair and they were now pointedly not talking to each other, though they both still huddled together for comfort and warmth on a park bench.
"We're going to have to move in a minute," Draco said gruffly, looking in the other direction. Harry grunted in reply. His offhandedness was not only present because he had decided not to talk to Draco until he apologised for being a spoiled prat, but also because something else had caught his interest. Three teenage boys, none of them acknowledging each other, had taken to wandering about the park aimlessly, as if walking about on a chilly evening wearing shirts and shorts was the most natural thing in the world.
A car horn suddenly beeped quickly as if trying to be as discreet as it could. The driver, a man that looked like he was in his late fifties had wound down the window and was signalling to the smallest of the boys desperately. Harry watched with mild fascination as the boy slunk over. He spoke to the man for a few minutes before getting into the passengers side of the car.
"Rent boys," Draco scoffed who had apparently been watching the scene unfold too.
"Don't knock it," Harry said softly. "If I don't get some food soon I might turn to it." Draco looked at him in disgust. "What?" Harry said defensively.
"Just the thought of having some fat and hairy man slobbering all over me freaks me out," Draco said, shivering with coldness and revulsion.
"It's the fat and hairy ones that pay the most money," Harry pointed out. "Especially for young guys like us."
Draco looked at him sceptically. "You're not ... thinking...?"
"Well I hadn't," Harry admitted, "but you know, now I'm starting to think it might not be such a bad idea. We're cute enough. Some loser will snap us up in the first five minutes!"
"What?" Draco cried. "Are you fucking serious? Harry, that's disgusting!"
"Maybe, but it'll get us some money. To eat," he added, emphasising the importance of cash.
"So we'll get normal jobs," Draco replied.
"Who's going to hire us?" Harry scoffed. "We've got no education in the muggle world, we don't look like the cleanest of people at the moment, and lets face it, any job that'll overlook both of those won't be paying us enough for both of us to eat."
"No," Draco said firmly. "I'm not doing it."
Harry shrugged. "Fine." He got up from the bench. "But I am. And let me say right now, any money that I make from this, I keep."
"What happened to sticking together?" Draco shrieked.
"What happened? You bailed – that's what happened." Harry walked away, closer to the road where any driving chicken hawkers could spot him easily. Sure enough, a couple of minutes after standing there a car pulled up and beckoned Harry over. Draco unabashedly watched the scene open-mouthed and wasn't sure whether to go over when Harry called him after a few minutes of chatting to the driver. After a moment's hesitation, he got up from the bench and joined Harry at the car.
"I'm going to be three hours," Harry said in a low voice. "And this guy is paying me fifty an hour. That's more than enough for food and shelter for a couple of days. Now, if you want to earn the same, you know what you have to do. But no more than three hours, right? The road is Loughborough Road, SW eighteen. Remember that Draco, okay? Remember that."
Draco nodded dumbly. "Loughborough Road, South West eighteen," he repeated dully.
Harry gave him a small smile. "Do what you want," he said. "I'll meet you back here. Remember, no more than three hours. If anyone wants you longer than that, tell them no."
And with that, he got in the car and left.
"Thanks a fucking lot Harry," Draco seethed silently. It was all so surreal, it had happened so fast, without any warning.
He followed the car's lights until they disappeared around the corner. He suddenly felt very alone and very vulnerable in this huge city and stepped back behind a thick tree trunk. Breathing heavily, he just went over everything what had just happened. Harry had just abandoned him for some stranger. He was gone. Anything could happen whilst he was gone. And for three hours! That was fucking ages. He could be caught and carted back to Azkaban in that time and Harry would be oblivious to it all as he took it up the arse.
A car horn honked noisily. Draco stiffened behind the tree trunk, before peering out bravely. A large man that took up most of the car was beckoning a lanky boy over, but out of the corner of the eye he spotted Draco. He sent the lanky boy away with an obscene finger gesture, and jerked his head at Draco.
Draco swallowed. There was no way he could get in that car. Or was there? It seemed a very long time since he'd last eaten and the thought of Harry scoffing down a meal while he went hungry made his stomach rumble in angry protest. But would Harry really leave him starving like that? They'd been through too much together; surely he'd take pity on him? Yes, he probably would. He'd be back in three hours, and then they'd go and get something to eat...
But three hours? Three agonising hours. Could he wait that long alone and out in the open where any prying eyes could spot him? He could hide down one of the many dingy alleyways they had passed earlier but the harrowing cries and cruel laughter suggested that drug dealers favoured those particular hangouts, and he was not going to get mixed up with them at all. And so it was on this premise alone that he found his legs thinking for him and trotting him towards the car.
"How much?" The man grunted. He was big and beefy and reminded Draco of a pig, the very sort of man he would have never let slobber over him in a million years.
"F-fifty an hour," Draco replied nervously.
The man snickered. "You sell yourself cheap. That's good. I like cheap sluts like you. Don't complain what I do to you!" He smiled, showing a row of mismatched yellow teeth. Draco almost threw up. He opened the car door reluctantly and slid into the passenger seat.
The car drove away into the evening.
"Take a shower, bitch. I want you clean before I fuck you hard. That way I know that when you're dirty after I've given you a good rogering, it's my man-sweat that's dripping off your body!"
Draco didn't need to be asked twice. He flung himself into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He bit into a towel before bursting into bitter tears, the thick fabric muffling his cries. He turned on the shower jets full blast to drown out the sounds of his tears even more. He didn't want to give Buck the satisfaction of knowing he'd reduced him to tears. It would turn him on even more, knowing that he was being forced to do this because of financial problems.
Swallowing down the feeling of sickness that had stirred up inside his stomach, Draco stripped off and stepped into the grimy shower. The hotel that Buck had chosen to 'give him the fuck of his life in' was as disgusting as he was. He wondered how many boys he had taken here before, and shuddered at the thought.
Through the sound of the shower on at full blast, Draco heard a hammering on the bathroom door.
"You got any protection?" Buck hollered.
Draco paled. "N-no," he called back. He heard Buck snicker.
"Any lube?"
Draco thought he was going to be sick. "No," he cried out tearfully.
Buck let out a whoop. "I've got a tiny bit of Vaseline on me, but that's all kid, and definitely no protection, so it's gonna be a rough and tough time for you tonight!"
"I'm not doing anything without protection," Draco yelled.
"Well what kind of whore are you if you don't have your supplies?" Buck laughed on the other side of the door. "I've brought you all the way down here now kid, so I'm fucking going to rape your ass whether you've got protection or not!"
Draco leant against the wall desperately. There was no way out, no fucking way at all. If he left the bathroom, Buck would fuck him. If he didn't leave the bathroom, he'd probably break down the door and then fuck him even more brutally. There were no windows of any kind in the small bathroom to climb out of. Everything was hopeless.
"Hey kid, if you can take my spear dry, I'll pay you triple what you asked for!" Buck collapsed into hilarious laughter at this as Draco collapsed into uncontrollable tears.
Harry spotted the lone figure hovering by the bench and knew that the slender frame and uneasy stance that they were adopting was unmistakeably Draco. He slowly crept up to him without making a sound ready to scare him, before changing his mind for the better.
"Draco!" Harry called. He still made him jump, even standing over ten metres away. He turned around to face him. "You alright?" he asked, walking over.
Draco nodded frantically. "Fine," he said.
"You've been crying."
Draco wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "So?" He didn't try to deny it.
"So ... why?"
Draco shrugged and pushed past Harry. "I'm hungry, let's go eat."
"So ... did you ...?" Harry asked as they began walking down the road.
"Yeah I did."
"Alright! How much did you make?"
"Four hundred."
Harry's jaw dropped open slightly. "Four hundred? Shit Draco, for three hours? Was your guy rich or something?"
Draco sniffed. "No. He just said he'd pay me triple for doing ... extras."
Harry halted him to a stop by grabbing his arm. "What do you mean, extras?" Draco looked away. "Draco, what do you mean?" Harry repeated.
"Nothing," Draco persisted, wrenching his arm away and walking ahead. "Lets just eat."
Harry ran up to catch him. "Fine ... but, if you wanna talk ..."
"I know. Thanks."
Harry nodded in reply.
The pair walked silently for a few minutes listening to the night sounds of muggle London. Scary as most of them were, they were comforting to hear. Both boys had agreed that silence was the most haunting sound of all.
"There's a garage over there," Draco pointed out. "Let's get a few sandwiches or something."
He sounded happier than moments before, Harry noted. "Okay," he agreed. "And I looked up a few hotels near here. We might as well stay in one for a few days." Draco looked at him wearily. "Come on Draco, it's just for a few days. Besides, we're going to get pneumonia or something if we stay out every night and we'll be too ill to be on the lookout. At least lets give our bodies the chance to recuperate by sleeping in a sheltered bed for a couple of days."
"Fine," Draco replied. He was only too happy to agree after Harry had pointed out the logic in doing so.
The pair entered the garage. As Harry wandered over to the food section, Draco approached the till attendant. "Do you have a toilet I can use?"
"Straight down there to the left," came the bored reply with a half-hearted thumb jerking in the direction of a hallway.
"Thanks," Draco said. He walked over to Harry. "I'm going to take a slash."
"What sandwiches you want?"
"Any."
"Cheese?"
"I hate cheese you know that!"
"So what sandwiches do you want?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Um... ham and ... I don't know. Ham and a couple of others. But not cheese," Draco added as he walked to the toilet. He walked down the dark and narrow hallway and found the small singular cubicle. Locking the door behind him, he turned around and almost screamed in fright.
His reflection had caught him off guard and it took several seconds for his heartbeat to slow down as he clutched his chest in terror. Recomposing himself, he turned on the tap full blast and let the water turn warm before washing his hands determinedly.
He'd gotten most of the blood off already, but the tricky area underneath his fingernails remained a humiliating and violated red. He scraped off a sliver from the bar of soap and embedded it underneath his fingernails, trying to scrape the blood away. As he did this, the sounds from the hotel room came flooding back.
A scream of pain and penetration.
Silence, and then another scream. A twisted laugh.
A Smash.
A Howl.
A choked cry as a pillow was bitten in pain. Another evil laugh.
A final collection of muffled screams.
Choke.
Silence.
Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror. His once deadened grey eyes had now been replaced with a slight sparkle, a newfound hope of revenge. They seemed to be hypnotically drawing him in, and as he stared at his haunting reflection, he got the feeling that there was something about him he just didn't know.
There was a thump at the door. "Drake?"
"Yeah I'll be out in a sec."
"Okay."
Draco concentrated on scrubbing at the area underneath his fingernails again, but all the same, he couldn't help but look up at his reflection once more. And as he stared into his eyes, a cold smirk began to appear on his lips.
Buck had ordered him to give him a rim job. On all fours, he demanded that Draco used that 'filthy whore tongue' of his to lick his arse until it was 'shining clean.' Instead Draco calmly grabbed a complimentary knife, (plastic granted, but still able to fulfil its duty), that was sitting on the counter most innocently and drove it straight into Buck's hole mercilessly. A scream of pain and penetration, then silence as Buck tried to draw a shaking hand to the object that was protruding from his arse. But not before Draco viciously twisted it around and around, as hard as he could, faster and faster, cutting up Buck's insides as he screamed again. Draco looked at the cowering man before him and gave a twisted laugh.
"Still feel like a man now, do you?" Draco had sniggered. Buck whimpered. Draco gave the knife another violent twist for good measure. Something glinted from the bedside cabinet and he grinned viciously. "Don't go anywhere," Draco smirked. He marched over to the cabinet and picked up a glass. He flung it at the wall relishing the sound that it made. Smash. Draco picked up a shard of glass in each hand and straddled Buck's back. He stabbed the shards deeply into Buck's back and dragged them down his skin. Buck howled. Draco forced a pillow under his face and continued with his handiwork. As he etched deeper and deeper into Buck's skin, he choked and bit on the pillow in pain. Draco laughed evilly at his bloody performance. As Buck began to slide in and out of consciousness from the loss of blood, Draco brought both shards down onto his shoulder blades, hitting the bones, causing Buck to cry out a final collection of muffled screams. Draco climbed off of him, turned him over roughly and stared into his eyes.
"Pathetic," he sneered. Buck pleaded with him silently, his eyes watering with forgiveness, his voice hoarse from screaming. Draco's face was emotionless as he slit his throat and watched him convulsing violently. Buck lived the last seconds of his life coughing up blood and choking before finally fading away completely and lying still on the bed. Silence. Draco slid from his position and casually walked over to Buck's bag. Rifling through it, he found four hundred pounds in cash, a penknife, and a pack of condoms. He looked back over at Buck. "Lying sack of shit," he spat. He walked back over to him and picked up a shard of glass again. Rolling him back onto his chest, he carved a line and a dot into his back and took a step backwards to admire his artwork. The carved 'pervert' on his back looked more humorous with an exclamation point on the end. Less serious, somehow...
"Draco, you feeling alright in there?" Harry yelled, banging on the door again.
"Yeah," Draco said, not taking his eyes off of his dark reflection. "I feel great."
First chapter down! Well, this was originally two chapters but the first seemed kinda short so I meshed it with the second! Anyway, please leave me some feedback, good or bad I don't care, though pointless flames will be laughed and made fun of! Take care my lovelies, and I shall update one of the three stories soon! (I really should take the phrase: "Bitten off more than you could chew" to heart, lol.) Love Jords x
