Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time - those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.
~ Lawrence Durrell
Masochism ~ The act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.
A/N: Big hugs for Lunacy Scarletsky, for Betaing - you're the best.
Harry stormed out of the room and made sure to slam the door hard. Walking downstairs he scowled furiously when he saw the shoes he had laid out for the still brattish Malfoy. He scrawled a note of explaination, trying to make it curt, cold ad distant; regardless of the fact that you can't really do that when writing a note and left the room, his thoughts whirring like a thunderstorm in his head.
Draco Malfoy had entered his life again, whether Harry had wanted him to or not. And although he had only been in his house for a small amount of time, it was enough to make an impact on Harry's head. The Malfoy had changed a lot,physically at least. He was slightly skinnier than Harry, but also slightly taller, which still managed to strike a nerve, but made the haughty man look gaunt and ill. Harry didn't need to be Hermione to realise that Malfoy was actually homeless. The shoes, smell, and overall appearance had been accurate clues for him to come to that conclusion by himself. Harry had an overwhelming (and now he reflected on it, quite sickening) urge to help the youngest Malfoy. But when the stupid twat had opened his mouth all urges that Harry had once had dissipated within the space of a sentence.
And Harry mentally shook himself, why was he even still thinking about the prat? Yeah, okay, so he had seen him after a while of hearing not hide nor hair of him; so what? And yeah, so he was homeless, and although that is quite curious, who cares? Despite his predicament, Malfoy was still the same old twat, that was selfish and rude.
Harry heard his front door close and all of a sudden he wanted to go down there and shout to the youngest Malfoy to come back. But, gritting his teeth, he carried on walking to his bedroom and decided to read a book, preferably the one about Quidditch that Ginny had bought for him a few months ago.
Draco gasped when the cold wind hit him. He suddenly wished that he had the courage to go back and knock on Potter's door but instead carried resiliently against the bitter elements.
When his teeth began to chatter and the only part of him that was warm were his hands which were being cocooned by his armpits and his feet he started to think about moving to a more warm place.
If you hadn't been stubborn and taken Potter up on his offer, you wouldn't be in this position!
Draco scowled at the voice in his head which was, of course, right. If he had agreed to stay at Potter's house he would be warm and his stomach filled. He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Finding a nice spot in a doorway of a space that had evidently once been a shop, Draco sat down and closed his eyes, as if doing the action would protect him from the horrors that the world and his decision could produce.
He was snapped out of his reasonably content state by the noise of somebody clearing their throat in front of him. Draco opened his eyes and they widened when he saw a balding man, in his late forties or maybe early fifties, dressed in a cheap suit, shifting around nervously, looking around anxiously and sweating profusely. Draco raised an eyebrow and when the man finally deigned to look at him he stuttered,
"I'll g-give you s-sixty pounds for a B-BJ?"
Draco looked at the man blankly until he realised what the man was asking. A big swell of rage overtook him and suddenly he was up on his feet, more angry than he had ever been in his whole life.
"Excuse me?" He began in a cold, furious yet calm voice, "Why the fuck would I want to do anything for you? Why the fuck are you even asking me? Why would I want to suck your pathetic excuse for a dick for sixty pounds? Is your wife so disgusted with what her husband has to offer that she left you to go and ask men to do it? Do you really assume that I'm desperate and am willing to let you stuff your one inch wonder down my throat for thirty seconds so that you are satisfied? Do me and your self-esteem a favour and fuck off." Draco sneered. With every rhetorical question the man seemed to quail and shrink before Draco and by the end of the blondes tirade, the man was close to tears and shuffled down the street dejectedly, his pride at his ankles, the very place when he had hoped that his pants would be.
Draco shook his head disgustedly and decided he'd go into the shopping centre, see if there were any food freebies being handed out.
By the time he got there, his whole body was aching from being hit by that stupid Muggle contraption; and his legs protested with every step he took. Thankfully, there were freebies being handed out, in the form of chocolate bars.
Draco had found out that Muggles handed out their products free to promote them, and he also found it the only useful thing they did. He walked past the people, took the chocolate bar and walked on by. When he saw a different group of people handing them out he would make sure that his previous chocolate bar was hidden and went and got another one. He kept on doing this until he got at least four or five bars.
He sat down on a bench outside the centre and sucked in the clean, fresh air gratefully. He had never liked crowds, and that centre was just too much.
He took out a chocolate bar from his pocket and peeled off the wrapper. He grinned hungrily at the sweet treat, opened his mouth wide to take a massive bite - and was halted by somebody clearing their throat beside him.
If this is in anyway similar to the last time . . .
Draco muttered in his head. He turned and scowled when he saw who it was. Saint bloody Potter.
"Are you following me?" He asked angrily.
"Um, no. I just happened to see you." The other replied. Draco shifted his body slightly away from his enemy and opened his mouth to take a bite - and stopped when Potter started to talk to him.
"Have you- have you found a place to stay yet?" that melodic voice was making Draco feel even more pissed off.
"I don't think it's any of your business, really. Would you ask that to him?" Draco asked pointed to a tramp busking with a harmonica.
"Well, no. But-"
"Exactly." Harry, a bit bewildered, ploughed on. He had been unable to get thoughts of the stubborn blond, and knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep easy until he had at least told the youngest Malfoy of his proposition.
"Um. Malfoy. I was wondering if you would like to temporarily live at my house, just until you find your feet -" Harry rushed out.
"Hell to the mother no." Draco said.
"Just hear me out-"
"Did you not just hear me? I said no, Potter. There is no way in hell that I'm going to live with you. You wouldn't like it, I wouldn't like it - no."
"But you've got nowhere else to go, and it would only be temporary. Listen, you can earn your keep and you won't even see me, I promise." Harry pleaded.
"Why are you even doing this? Last time I checked, we both hated each other and wanted nothing to do with the other. This is still the case for me, but your actions are proving rather contradictory."
"I don't know! It's just something keeps on nagging at me and . . . Well - people say I have hero complex-"
"Okay, it's definitely a no. I don't want you to pity me Potter, in fact, I'm perfectly fine and I don't need you to stick your big headed, four-eyed self into my business."
Draco walked away quickly, and finally took a large bite of his chocolate bar, but the sweetness of his treat couldn't soothe his injured pride.
Harry sat on the bench, fuming. That was the last time he offered shelter to that stubborn prat. He knew that was unrealistic to think that Malfoy would say yes, but a part of him had just been hoping.
Draco couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to scream with frustration and anger at himself or to just sit down and let the tears fall. Malfoy's don't cry. His father's voice resounded in his head and his smiled bitterly. He was so pissed off. He wasn't cut out for life on the streets, he was still a seventeen year old boy, not even of age in the Muggle world and without any family or friends he could turn to for help. Except Potter.
But there it was again. Rearing it's massive head that was almost as ugly as Potter's, Draco's pride would not leave him alone when he encountered the Wizarding World's saviour.
Draco was afraid. He was also a coward, that much was obvious. But, as we all know, he is also stubborn and arrogant.
Perhaps, for the second or third time in his life, he would give in to the coward within and except Potter's offer. But what if the promise of a place of solace had been retracted? What would he do then? He'd just have to wait and see.
As he walked into a small district of winding streets and numerous alleyways, he didn't see the man following him, with a predatory gleam in his eye.
A/N: Okay, this chapter is shorter and contains less plot, but things will be moving swiftly on, I promise. I'm so sorry for the wait, I was on holiday XD
On to nicer things - I cannot believe what a response this story has had - 18 Emails of either story alert or favourite story! Thank you to each and every one of you, I feel awful for generalising, and not being able to name you all, but a real, sincere thank you if you did :D
AN EVEN BIGGER THANK YOU TO: Elizabug - Reverie Wilde - chocolaTTelover - TheSarcasticUchihaFan - Catnatural - IamSOinLoovEwithYou. Thank you so much for reviewing, they all made my day and me makes so happy to know that people are enjoying my story. I cannot tell you how great you guys are :D
Sorry for such an LONG A/N - I don't like it when Authors do it either, but it all needed to be said.
Again, please review. I don't mind concrit, it helps me develop my writing skills :D