Title: The Secret Life of Draco Malfoy
Author: icicle33
Rating: M (in future chapters)
Word Count: ~25 K in all (4200 words in this chapter)
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco and mentions of Harry/OMC and Draco/OMC
Warnings: Post War AU, Dracocentric, contains a past relationship and breakup between Harry and Draco, lots of adult language (Draco never learnt to control his tongue), humour and flangst, m/m sex (eventually)
Summary: After the war, Draco was ousted from the wizarding world. With a little bit of luck and the help of some good friends, Draco becomes a successful veterinarian in the Muggle world. His life was slowly starting to come together again―that is―until Harry Potter shows up at his clinic with a sick cat.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the second chapter and followed this fic! I really appreciate it. A special thanks to Ashiiblack for her awesome beta skills.
Enjoy.
~8~8~8~
Retail therapy was not as rewarding as Draco had hoped. His mother was not kidding! When she threatened to revoke his access to all their accounts, he assumed that she was bluffing. There was no way a mother would do that to her only child, right? Wrong!
That woman was cold, brutally cold. It was barely two hours later and she had already put a hold on his accounts. By the time he tried on all his new outfits and matching accessories, he went from being one of the wealthiest blokes in all of England to being completely broke. As poor as Weasley. Perhaps even poorer.
It was so embarrassing. His accounts were declined and the shop girl made a huge ordeal of having to return all of the merchandise to the racks. The new jeans, jumpers, shoes, and sunglasses would have to wait. His only purchase was a white cashmere scarf, which looked absolutely fabulous on him. The only reason he was even able to purchase it was thanks to one of the prepaid Muggle cards that Potter had set up for him. There was barely enough money left on that card for one measly cashmere scarf. Oh, the horror! Was this how the other half lived? Draco was not cut out to be poor.
He made some ridiculous excuse to the shop girl about recently changing banks and hurried out of the store, holding up his one measly shopping bag to his head as if it were a barrier, shielding him from the judgemental faces and jeering scowls that were awaiting him from every employee and customer in the store.
Embarrassment was not something that he was used to, especially not in the Muggle world. A large bank account and a marvellous head of hair were all it took for Draco to be well-liked on Oxford Street. And Harrods. Bond Street. Mayfair. And all the other fabulous places that Draco could never show his face again. No money and no job. What a horrible day. He was certain that all the Muggles walking down the street knew his terrible, terrible, secret. He was poor! Draco needed to get out of there and fast.
~8~8~8~
Draco sat on an old park bench, hiding behind his oversized sunglasses and the shade of the large cherry blossom tree. Most of the petals had fallen off the tree and he thought the tree looked barren, lonely. He wondered if it felt lost without its beautiful flowers and leaves? Merlin's hairy balls, he really was losing his mind, sympathising with a tree. Perhaps he was just hungry since he had left the Manor without having lunch. Thank Merlin he had stopped to get something.
He picked up and opened the white paper bag that lay next to his lone shopping bag on the bench. After purchasing his scarf, there had been just £2 left on his card, not even enough to purchase a croissant and grand crème at his favourite cafe. He had been forced to purchase only the croissant. Seriously, his mother was going to hear about how she was starving her only child when she calmed down a bit. If she calmed down.
He ripped small pieces off the croissant and threw them in his mouth—deliciously buttery and flaky as usual. At least he was allowed this one small comfort. When he was about halfway finished with his pastry, he heard a soft crash and saw his shopping bag tumble off the bench. How strange, he thought, as he didn't remember placing the bag so close to the edge.
He leant over and picked up the bag, but as soon he picked it up, a loud yelp escaped his mouth. Bloody hell! The bag just moved. On its own. He swore it even growled. Holy hell, what was he going to do?
There was some type of ferocious beast in the bag. His first instinct was to make a run for it, just take his croissant and go, but then he remembered his beautiful cashmere scarf! It was so soft and white, like holding a baby Pygmy Puff to his face. There was no way he could leave it behind. The beast could not win.
Most people thought that Draco was not brave. And for the most part, he wasn't. Bravery was not a quintessential Slytherin trait. But never put an obstacle between a Slytherin and his newest toy. Draco never did learn to share; he would not give up his new scarf to this evil beast. Arming himself with his wand, he carefully opened the bag and was about to curse the ferocious creature into oblivion when the beast showed its face.
Oh, bugger. The intruder wasn't ferocious at all. It was a small white puppy tangled in his scarf. Draco was not an animal lover. He never liked dogs of any kind since they usually slobbered too much for his taste, but there was something endearing and adorable about this puppy.
It was completely white from head to tail, except for a little bit of peach colouring right at the ears and its black eyes and nose. He had never seen a puppy before that could fit inside a small shopping bag. This pup was like the ultimate accessory.
He held his breath and reached inside the bag, sticking out his right hand for the dog to smell. This was what he always did with those damn feral peacocks back home, so they wouldn't bite him. He doubted that the small pup would actually hurt him, but he didn't want to startle it and have it run off with his scarf. His day was already tragic enough.
Luckily, he didn't have to worry. The small pup was already enamoured with Draco. As soon as he smelt Draco's hand, the puppy attempted to squirm its way out of the scarf and lifted itself on its hind legs, so he could lick Draco's hand. He was afraid that his hand would break out in hives from the creature's slobber. But nothing happened.
Even though the dog continued licking him incessantly, his hand wasn't all that wet. Perhaps since its tongue was so small, he didn't slobber. All his fears had been for nothing. At that moment, Draco changed his mind and decided that he still didn't like dogs, but this one was an exception. With his other hand, he picked up the dog and cradled it to his chest. It really was quite cute.
"You're not so bad," he said. The dog stopped licking his hand for a moment and looked up at him, opening those black eyes wider and giving Draco the most heartbreaking look he had ever seen. Immediately, Draco's heart melted and he decided that his mother was going to have to make an exception to her no pets rule at the Manor.
"I'm not sure if you belong to someone," he said, rotating the pup around, so he could get a better look at it. "But since you don't have a collar, you're coming home with me."
The pup starting wagging his tail and gave a little yelp. It was as if he understood. Draco could not have been more pleased. He still didn't have any money or a job, but at least he had a new friend.
~8~8~8~
Having a pet was fantastic. Draco had owned his new dog for only a few hours, and already he decided that it was the best decision he made in ages. Originally, he planned to go straight back to the Manor to ask the house-elves to give his new friend a bath, but while he walked the streets of Muggle London, everyone stopped and stared. Yes, he was handsome and everything, but even when he used to go out with Blaise, the pair of them never managed to turn this many heads. What was going on?
And then it hit him. It was the dog. Draco's new dog was the cutest dog in the world, so all the old ladies and even a couple of blokes stopped to pet him. Once he saw all the attention the dog would bring him, he knew they would become inseparable. Naturally, his pup was a little attention whore; he adored being pet and fawned over. Draco was so proud.
After parading up and down the streets for a couple of hours, both of them were getting tired. He was about to look for a hidden and secure location to Disapparate from when he noticed a small animal clinic at the end of a corner street. Even though he ventured into Muggle London often, he avoided Muggle places that didn't sell high end clothing or gourmet food. Yet, there was something about the clinic that attracted him. For some inexplicable reason, he was compelled to enter. And if he was going to convince Mother to let him have a dog, then he needed to make sure the pup was immaculate and free of any diseases.
Before entering the clinic, he looked down at the pup to make sure that he was okay. He imagined that visiting an Animal Healer was as traumatic an experience for dogs as it was for wizards. Draco had always cried when his mother forced him to see the family Healer, so he didn't want to put his new pet through the same anguish. When the pup nuzzled himself into his favourite resting place on Draco's chest, he assumed it was fine. It looked like he had acquired a brave pup.
"Hello," Draco called, as he walked in the door. The clinic was larger than it looked from the outside. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but he wasn't expecting to find himself in such a large waiting room. The room was cluttered with unmatched chairs and magazines, plain white walls. At the far end of the room stood a large white counter, whose paint was chipping off in large chunks. His stomach started twisting in knots. He didn't know anything about Muggle animal clinics, but he had a feeling they weren't supposed to be this dreary. A voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to leave, but when he was about to turn around, an older woman behind the counter gave him a large smile.
"How can I help you, dearie?" she asked.
The older woman, Evie, which Draco discovered from her nametag, had dark hair that she wore in a stylish bob with long fringe in the front. She had on bright pink lipstick and gold hoop earrings. It was the style of a much younger woman, but her blue eyes shone with the tenderness of a grandmother. She reminded Draco of an old governess of his who had passed long ago. He couldn't help but smile back at her and feel at ease.
"Erm..."
He wasn't sure exactly what to say. In the wizarding world, it was illegal to claim another animal as your own without checking with the Ministry to see if anyone had declared it missing. Muggles had strange laws though; they weren't usually as organized as wizards, so he decided to play it by ear.
"This is my dog," he finally said, holding out the pup to the woman as if it were a prized show dog rather than a stray. "Isn't he beautiful?"
Evie chuckled and then bent over to place a kiss on the puppy's head. "Such a cutie." She scratched behind the dog's ears, and the pup rubbed its head against her hand as if it were a cat. Draco swore his heart melted again.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No, we don't." The same knot tightened in Draco's stomach. An appointment. Damn it. Apparently, Muggles used those too. A crease formed between his brows and his lips fell into a scowl.
Evie reached out and patted him on the arm. "There's no need to get upset, dear. We can see you without an appointment."
"You can?" Draco's eyes widened and the scowl erased itself from his face. Thank Merlin.
"As long as there's a doctor in, someone can see you right away."
"Oh, good." Draco let out a loud sigh, which caused Evie to laugh.
"Look around, love," she said, "do you see any other patients?"
Draco tightened his grip on the pup and turned his head to scan the room. She was right. The entire waiting room was empty. That was not a good sign. He looked down at the adorable pup in his arms and contemplated leaving. He had only owned this pup for a few short hours, but Draco already only wanted the best for him. After all, he was the newest Malfoy.
"Don't give me that look," the woman told him. "You're not going anywhere. Dr Vallarta is very, very good. You'll love him, I promise." Without waiting for a response, she picked up the phone. "Let me just see if he's in, okay? Sit tight for a minute."
Draco still wasn't convinced, but he nodded anyway. There was no harm in meeting the doctor. He took a seat in the cleanest and least offensive looking chair and waited, his arms wrapped protectively around his pup.
~8~8~8~
"Go on in, love," Evie told him. "Dr Vallarta will see you now. I'm certain you'll like him."
Draco stood from his chair, the world's most uncomfortable chair, and frowned. He wasn't sure how long he'd been waiting, but the longer he waited, the worst of an idea this seemed. What if the doctor harmed his pup? What if there was something wrong with him? A million scenarios flashed through Draco's mind, most of them negative.
Where do I go?" he asked, feeling stupid for the hundredth time that day.
"Room two. Straight ahead." Evie pointed at a door across the room with her clipboard. "And I would smile if I were you."
"Why is that?"
"Just trust me." She gave him a wink and pushed him towards the door. "Good luck, the doctor will be right in."
~8~8~8~
Draco's pulse was racing. The waiting felt eternal. Where was the doctor? Droplets of sweat were piling up on his hairline, but he couldn't wipe them away. Both of his hands were occupied, holding his pup in a tight embrace. There was no way he was letting him go. This was just a check up, he reminded himself. Not a big deal, so why was he acting so barmy? Snap out of it. Now.
Finally, the door flew open and the doctor entered. Dr Vallarta was not what Draco had been expecting. He expected an old man with a potbelly and a friendly laugh. Not a Spanish model. The man couldn't have been more than thirty; he had shaggy black hair that was just the right amount of messy and tanned skin. He was so tall and broad shouldered that Draco had to bite down on his lips to keep himself from drooling. Now he understood why Evie told him to smile. She should have warned him. That bitch.
"Hello, there," the doctor said. "I'm Dr Antonio Vallarta. Thank you for waiting."
Draco blinked stupidly, still dazed and tongue-tied. He stuck out his hand towards Draco, and Draco had no choice but to shake it.
"Dray-co," he choked out, after shaking the doctor's hand for several seconds. "My name is Draco."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Draco. What an unusual and lovely name." The doctor let go of his hand but not before giving it a little squeeze. Draco cheeks grew warm.
"Thank you," Draco said, finally regaining his normal voice. "The pleasure is mine, Doctor."
Dr Vallarta flashed him a brilliant smile. "Please, call me, Antonio."
"Antonio," Draco repeated, savouring how the foreign name felt on his tongue. Apparently, he had been worried for nothing.
"And who's this little guy?"
Draco turned his head. "What?" He was still wrapped up in that smile. There was something very familiar about Antonio's smile. It was comforting as if he had seen it before, but that was impossible. How odd.
Antonio laughed, his smile stretching all the way to his eyes. "My patient. Your puppy there. What's his name?"
Oh, the puppy. Right. The smile dropped from Draco's face. Name. Name. Name. Bollocks. Why hadn't he given him a name? In all of his excitement, giving his newest friend a name had escaped him. What a horrible pet owner he was.
"His name..." Draco looked around the room for a clue, anything that would save him. Nothing caught his eye. "His name is..."
Antonio placed his clipboard on the table and then ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the black fringe that fell in his face. Holy Salazar! So green.Antonio's eyes were hazel, speckled with flecks of green. Bent over the clipboard like that, Antonio looked just like...
"Harry."
"Harry?" Antonio asked. "That's an interesting name for a pup."
"What? No." Fuck. He hadn't actually realised that he had said Harry's name aloud. He didn't want to name his dog, Harry. Potter would tease him endlessly. How was he going to get out of this?
"His name isn't, Harry?" Antonio frowned. He had an adorably confused look on his face, which Draco decided to ignore.
Draco pursed his lips, trying to find a solution that wouldn't make him look slow in front of the hot doctor. "It's Harold. His name is Harold," Draco replied with a smile. Yes, Harold was a better name. Totally different than Harry. Besides, he figured it would annoy Potter if he ever found out.
"Well, let's check you out then, Harold." Antonio motioned for Draco to place Harold on the table, and although he was uncomfortable with how high it was, he did.
~8~8~8~
"He looks great, Draco," Antonio told him, handing Harold back to Draco with that big smile still plastered on his face. "For a pup you just found, he doesn't have any major issues...just a small ear infection that we can cure in no time."
Draco was horrified. "An ear infection? Why did that?"
"Really, don't worry. It's very common in small pups, especially ones that have floppy ears. His heart and lungs sound good. His reflexes are sharp. Eyes clear. Really, the only thing he needs is a good meal and some antibiotic ear drops."
Antonio leant over and scratched Harold's head, which Harold responded to by trying to lick his hand. "You're fine, right? Tell your worry wart of an owner that you're fine."
Draco was still not convinced, but he supposed that Antonio knew what was he doing and nodded. He was good with Harold, and Harold had taken to him immediately. It almost made Draco jealous, but since he was bringing Harold home, he decided not to let it bother him.
"Thank you, Doctor. I mean...Antonio."
Just in case, he pulled Harold up to his face and gave him a kiss right on the nose. "Are we all done then?"
"Just about. I still have to take his temperature." Antonio turned to look at the clock in the room and sighed. "Would you mind assisting me?"
Draco blinked. "What?"
Was this bloke mad? The last time Draco checked he was the doctor, not Draco.
"There's usually a technician around, but they tend to go home early." Antonio sighed. "My staff doesn't respect me for some reason."
"Oh, I'm sure that's not true," Draco said, trying to change the subject. "You've got a very imposing figure. You command lots of respect." He smirked. "Maybe you should get some glasses?"
Antonio gave him a strange look and then burst out laughing. "You're hilarious. Imposing figure. That's great." He turned away from Draco and started rummaging in a nearby drawer. "Don't worry, it's easy. All you have to do is hold him in case he squirms."
"Erm..." Draco looked down at Harold; that knot in his stomach was churning again. He wasn't sure how good he'd be at helping Antonio, but it didn't appear like he would take no as answer. "Alright...what do I have do?"
Draco held Harold on the table, one hand underneath his stomach and the other rubbing his neck. "It's okay," he whispered. "Don't worry." Antonio grabbed a long glass tube – a thermometer – Antonio called it, and coated it in some clear goop. Draco thought the goop looked a lot like lubricant, but he decided against bringing it up. Lubricant was one of those topics his mother was always telling him he shouldn't bring up in polite conversation. For once, he was going to listen to his mother.
Antonio examined Harold's backside and tried to insert the tube in his butthole. Harold whimpered and scrambled out of Draco's arms, leaping off the table. Without even thinking, Draco cast a wandless Arresto Momentum and caught Harold before he hit the floor. He'd never cast that spell wandless before. Thank Merlin it worked. He wrapped Harold in his arms and cradled him like a baby, placing kisses all over his head.
"Don't scare me like that again," he told the pup. "Please.I thought my heart was going to stop."
Antonio stared at Draco; his face was redder than Weasley's, and his mouth was hanging open. Oh, no, Draco thought, he's broken. Casting spells in front of Muggles was illegal, but this had been an emergency. He doubted that the Ministry would notice that tiny spell, but he was more concerned that Antonio had noticed. How could he explain?
"Dra-co, I'm so-sor-ry," Antonio stammered, once he snapped out of his shock. "I don't what happened. That's never. I-"
Draco held a hand up and silenced him. "It's alright. Harold is fine. I'm the one that let him go."
"No, it's not." Antonio ran a hand through his hair; his handsome features were all twisted in distress. "That never should have happened. I'm the vet...you were amazing. "
Draco beamed; he loved when people actually appreciated him. "Was I?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes and smiling. It appeared that Antonio hadn't noticed the spell. Thank goodness.
"Absolutely," Antonio insisted. "How about we try again? I'll hold Harold."
Draco pressed his lips into a thin line. After what had just happened, he wasn't sure that he wanted to be the one responsible for Harold. He had no idea what he was doing.
"Are you sure?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "What if he jumps again?"
"I'll hold him tight." Antonio locked eyes with him; those hazel eyes were shining so earnestly that he couldn't help but believe him.
Draco nodded and reluctantly handed Harold over to Antonio. "It's for your own good," he whispered right in Harold's ear. "Please, stay still."
He followed Antonio's directions verbatim and unwrapped a new thermometer, coating it with the clear goop. The goop was much too cold, and Draco assumed that it was uncomfortable to put that freezing tube in your arse. He covered his mouth with his hand and cast a discreet Warming Charm on the thermometer. That should help. Keeping his hands as steady as possible, he raised Harold's tail and then slowly inserted the thermometer. He expected Harold to cry and flinch like before but nothing happened. Instead, he held the thermometer in place until it beeped. Antonio explained that the beep meant it was finished.
Oh. Thank. Salazar. He did it. Draco let out a loud sigh of relief and smiled.
"Is that it?"
Antonio stared at him. He looked completely aghast. "Yeah, that's it. You're a natural, Draco." He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, reminding Draco suspiciously of Potter again. "Seriously, you're better than my staff. I should hire you instead."
A job. Draco's breath caught in his throat. Did Antonio just offer him a job? The idea of Draco working with animals and Muggles was absurd. Malfoys didn't work at a place like this. He was about to dismiss the idea when he remembered his mother's threat. Showing up at the Manor empty handed was not an option.
"I accept," Draco shouted, a little more enthusiastically than he had intended.
Antonio creased his brow and pursed his lips. Draco figured that this was his contemplative look. "Oh, I wasn't serious, Draco. It was only a joke. I'm sure a bloke like you has a fancy job somewhere."
Damn it. He was so close! Draco's face fell. He had failed again. Fired from a job he hadn't even started. That had to be a first.
"I understand," he said, lowering his gaze to the floor. "You don't have room for me." He stuck out his bottom lip and grabbed Harold off the table. "Thank you for your services, Doctor. Harold and I will be going now."
He turned on his heel and was halfway out the door when a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"No, wait," Antonio said, strain evident in his voice. "I'm sorry. If you really want a job, it's yours."
Draco spun around and met Antonio's eyes. "Really? I don't have any experience or anything."
Antonio shook his head and smiled, that same dazzling smile as before. "Absolutely," he said. "I wasn't kidding when I said you're a natural. Come in on Monday."
"I'll be ready."
Draco thanked Antonio again and left the clinic, not believing his luck. A job at a Muggle veterinary clinic might not be his ideal career, but it was better than Azkaban. Things were finally looking up.
To be continued...
A/N: Thanks so much for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts, comments, concerns, etc. I hope this chapter answers some of your questions regarding Draco and Antonio's friendship as well as Harold. I promise Harry will show up again soon.
Comments are love.
~Icicle
