Title: Pretty Man (Walking down the Street)
Email: MyzticBeanaol.com
Name: SMalfoy
Pairings: HP/DM
Spoilers: Pretty Woman
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters (J.K Rowlings does), nor do I own any rights to the most of the ideas presented in this fan fic.
NOTE: This is a scenario of AU (alternate universe), where Harry does not have any special wizarding powers (that we know of YET), and thus knows nothing of the evils of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It also follows along the plot movie Pretty Woman
NOTE 2: I realize in the first chapter that I accidentally referred to Seamus as a 'she' – I didn't mean to b/c I was thinking of Kit at the time and must have accidentally typed that. Also I wrote that Harry wore a blonde wig, which I changed to say his hair was tipped blonde. It really was tipped blonde, he didn't wear the wig. Sorry if it caused confusion!
Driven to Insanity – thanks for all the great reviews! And would you believe I'm doing this purely by memory? I lost my tape of Pretty Woman. If I do something wrong tell me! Haha.
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Chapter 5 Rude to Harry
Picking up his maroon bag, he fumbled through the purse, smiling at the absence at more than one missing condom, and hurriedly pulled his clean clothing out. It was a pair of tight, practically bleached out jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the arms ripped off to expose more of his leanly muscled arms and a bit of his belly. Digging further he found a pair of well-worn flip-flops and slipped them onto his feet.
He walked into the bathroom for one last face check, washed his mouth out with the toothpaste, and whistling to himself, stuffed the wad of cash into his back pocket. He also flicked the tub of mascara open, and flicked the darkness on his short, spiky lashes. He slipped the glasses on easily, promising himself he would find a decent pair of contacts later.
He hardly noticed the odd looks he received from guests and hotel workers alike, and didn't hear the hotel manager, Gilderoy Lockhart, mutter to the front desk clerk to call him if the man returned.
He had the doorman (not the same from last night) hail him a cab and told the cabbie where he wanted to go. Fifteen minutes later he was strutting down Rodeo Drive, liking the feel of having extra cash on him to spend on something nice for himself. No worries of a roommate needing money, no pimp to demand the extra...Ah, this was the life.
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He found a nice outfit in a window he happened to be passing by, a white suit collared by a silky navy blue shirt and tie. It seemed to literally glow in the afternoon sun, and it seemed like a choice Draco would have wanted to see him attired in.
Walking through the threshold of the store, he ignored the frowns of the store management, and instead inspected the suit outfit. It was absolutely wonderful, fitted closely to his body, displaying the raw sexual magnetism he liked to flaunt. It would drive Draco nuts,Harry thought with a smile.
Looking around the store, he hailed a man he figured worked there, and asked, "Could I please try this on?"
"I don't think that would suit you," the smarmy worker said.
"Well, I didn't ask that, I asked if I could try it on," Harry said impatiently.
"You would never be able to afford it," the man answered abruptly, losing the façade of being polite.
"How you would know, I happen to have enough money with me to buy this store," Harry bluffed.
"I sincerely doubt that, you don't belong here. Please leave now." And with that said the man turned his back on Harry and walked away.
Harry froze in shock, unable to believe he had been so totally dismissed. With a heart the same density as lead, he tried to escape as quickly as possible.
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Stepping out of the cab, Harry walked briskly inside of the hotel and was surprised to see three security men surround him and what looked like the manager walk up to him.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to follow me," the smooth, blonde haired man said, leading him away, and not even turning to check that Harry was actually following his directions.
They stepped into a back office, where Harry was shoved into a couch underneath a window and surrounded by potted plants. It was a relatively small office, but well furnished and rather intimidating.
"What's going on here? Why have you brought me here?" Harry asked, glaring at the surrounding security officers. He drew back in fear once he noticed it was not guns in their hands – it was wands.
"Sir, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart. Do you know who I am?" he asked smoothly, giving Harry a bright grin full of white teeth.
"Uh, no, Mr. Lockhart. I have no idea what you want with me," Harry replied, glancing about him uneasily.
"Well, first of all, I am manager of this hotel. I don't believe you belong-" he started to say, but Harry cut him off.
"Oh you too huh? Well, I'm sick and tired of being treated like scum, and I don't believe I have deserved this. I am here as a guest of Mr. Malfoy," he said importantly, his green eyes glaring daggers into the blue ones of Lockhart.
"Oh really? Are you any sort of relation to Mr. Malfoy?" Lockhart asked, his gaze becoming sharp.
"Uh...a...nephew," he stammered.
"A...nephew," Lockhart repeated. He gave a significant glance to the others, and shook his head slightly. Without any word spoken, they left the room silently.
"What is your name?" Lockhart asked quietly.
"Harry Potter," he replied, looking down.
"And what were talking about when you said "you too"? Has someone else treated you this way?" Lockhart questioned kindly.
"Yes," Harry mumbled, blinking hard against the sheen of tears that threatened to overflow his lashes. "I tried to go find something suitable to wear like Draco told me to, and when I went into a store they were insulting me, and even when I told them I had enough money, they threw me out..." he trailed off, sniffling loudly, holding out the wad of bills he had pulled out of his pocket crumpled in his hand.
Lockhart held out handkerchief, his blue eyes sympathetic. "Well, Mr. Potter, I will help you with that problem. And then, after Mr. Malfoy leaves, I assume you will not have another uncle that will be staying here?"
Harry shook his head violently. Lockhart moved to his desk to place a call, saying, "Natalie...hi this is Gilderoy Lockhart...yes, have you picked up my book Magical Me? Good, good, I hope you enjoy. Next time I see you I shall autograph it for you...yes, fine, fine...of course...Albus is scheming as always...anyways, I have a young man here in need of some help. I shall be sending him over shortly, his name is Mr. Potter....thanks, have a wonderful day."
When he hung up, Harry just stared at him in a sort of pathetic thankfulness. "Just go out to the doorman, he will hail a taxi for you."
Harry stood and nodded briefly. "Thank you." And he walked out of hotel with his head held high.
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When Harry returned to the hotel a scant two hours later, he had a black bag thrown over his arm, and was still wearing the clothing he had left in that morning.
Lockhart intercepted Harry as he walked around the lobby of the hotel, attracting too much attention for his liking.
"Mr. Potter. I assumed that what you would be purchasing today, you would be wearing."
"Oh, yes, of course, I will be tonight. But...uh...well I need your help," Harry said faintly, looking around in an almost panicked fashion.
"And how is that?" Lockhart asked, giving him silent agreement that he would help Harry.
Harry sighed gratefully, and proceeded to explain that he had no idea how to act in civilized public.
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Hurrying as quickly as possible up to the Penthouse suite, he glanced at the note taped to the doorway.
Draco –
I'm sitting at the bar. I'll be waiting for you to come pick me up.
Yours,
Harry
Sweeping through the doorway, gripping the note, he was unaccountably glad to have Harry waiting, though he tried desperately not to think about that too much. Instead, he focused on all the best-laid plans that were finally going to happen that night.
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When Draco finally made his way into the bar located on the first floor of the hotel, he was conscious of the slightly damp palms, and the consuming fear Harry had already left. He was still scanning when his eyes ran across and away from a dark haired man, before immediately jerking back and swallowing hard.
This was not the same boy Draco had left this morning. Instead, in his place, there was a poised, elegant man. He wore a pale gray suit the of an early morning mist, with a dress shirt the exact of Draco's silvery eyes. His tie, matching the of the suit, contrasted sharply with the shirt, and his gleaming gray shoes completed the outfit. His hair had finally been tamed into some semblance of order and was smoothed back away from his face, drawing attention to those expressive eyes. His glasses that had had worn this morning after getting out of the bathtub had been exchanged for new contacts, his face clear and smooth in the low lights of the bar.
I can't breath, Draco thought, finally drawing in a deep breath. He's so handsome, I want to take him back upstairs and ravish that body...tonight, he promised himself. Tonight he would have the man instead of the boy.
"How do I look?" Harry asked, turning in a circle so that Draco could admire the back as well as the front. What he saw almost made him gasp aloud. Oo, that arse...he moaned silently to himself.
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," Draco managed to strangle out. He held out his crooked arm to Harry. "Shall we go?"
"Absolutely," he agreed.
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As Harry and Draco were led to the table, he mentally tried to give himself a pep talk. It's ok, you'll do fine Harry. A dinner meeting is not the end of the world. Look at how Draco reacted to your new clothing; I'm sure you won't embarrass him. Just play it cool, and do exactly as Mr. Lockhart has instructed.
With that less than comforting thought, he gave his attention to the two gentlemen that were standing at attention at their table. The first, a tall, dark, and extremely irritable looking man did not inspire much hope in Harry that this meeting was going to go well. The other man, another tall one,he thought, had bright red hair and a ton of freckles scattered about his face. He gave Harry a small smile and a bow as Draco introduced him to the table.
"Harry Potter, this is Severus Snape. The other man, his apprentice, is Ronald Weasley," Draco said, with a sneer towards the red haired man.
"How do you do?" Harry asked politely, shaking their hands in turn before they all settled into their seats.
"So, Malfoy, what's this all about?" Snape asked coolly, his fingers forming a triangle in front of his mouth, hiding his expression.
"I think we all know what this is about, Severus," Draco said, smiling slightly.
"Then why don't you enlighten us," Weasley snarled. He looked on the verge of jumping over the table to choke Draco, and unconsciously Harry moved closer to Draco in protection.
Noting the movement, Draco smiled inwardly, and at the disgusted expression on Weasley's face.
"My company is interested in buying the shipping yard in New York," Draco said simply.
"And we all know that Purebloods Inc. is being run by Voldemort," Weasley hissed, only to be silenced by the glare of Severus.
"It's not for sale, Draco, and you know it," Severus said softly.
"Oh, but I know quite differently," Draco said smoothly. "I know that Hogwarts, nor the Ministry of Magic can afford to support the shipyard for more than five more months at best. I'm simply stepping in now to help you avoid bankruptcy and, of course, for my own interests."
"Of course," Severus murmured. "But, like I said, it's not for sale. To you."
Harry looked back and forth between the two men, whose conversation was halted by the appearance of the waiter. Draco ordered quietly for both of them, while Harry was lost in confusion and trying to hide it.
Obviously, he didn't do quite as well as job as he had hoped, because both Severus and Ron noted it.
"Do you know who Voldemort is, Harry?" Ron asked, staring intently.
"Uh...no," Harry said, glancing at Draco.
"Do you know about the wizarding world?" Severus asked silkily.
"I've heard only a bare minimum about it," Harry replied warily. Draco patted his hand in reassurance, and that motion, too, did not go unnoticed.
They were all saved from conversation as the plates were set down in front of them. Looking down at the dark brown shells scattered on his plate, he was hesitant to touch it. The waiter laid down a set of prongs next to his plate, and picking them up, he wondered what in the hell he was supposed to do with it. Lockhart had not told him about the extra silverware besides the six already laid out before him.
Draco made a motion with his, and Harry watched intently how to work that contraption. Picking up a shell tentatively with the prongs, he let go of the conversation in lieu of trying not to make a fool of himself. Of course, it never worked.
In squeezing the shell, the butter it had sat in had made it quite slippery, and it popped out of his prongs and went flying through the air. All conversation near the table stopped to watch its progress. Fortunately, a waiter with quick reflexes managed to snatch it out of the air before it landed on a woman's brightly ed blonde head.
"Oh no," Harry moaned, giving the waiter a thankful wave. His face blushed crimson, and he had a hard time looking at the other party as the table. A quickly covered snort beside him made him look up and glare at Draco.
That was not funny, his eyes said, while Draco's replied, Of course it was.
Harry looked up, embarrassed, at the smirks both Ron and Severus wore, and immediately lifted his chin proudly. They wouldn't make him feel pitiful and unworthy to be there. He had as much right as everyone else.
Even if you're not paying for the food? his subconscious asked.
Hey, I pay for the food in my own way, his indignit other side offered in argument.
His subconscious stayed silent for the rest of the meal.
"Slippery little suckers," he offered weakly in the silence.
Draco snorted, holding back laughter and an amused smile, but he saw the glance Harry darted at him, and knew it was no use. He let out a bark of laughter, falling back into his seat, his arm draping itself across Harry's tense shoulders.
The laugh settled over the table, erasing some of the tension that had been building up. Looking into Draco's face, Harry could hear the rustiness of his chuckle – it seemed as if Draco had not had anything to laugh about in quite a while. Besides, he liked to feel of Draco's arm around his shoulders, it made him feel not quite so low as Ron and Severus made him feel.
"Sorry if I embarrassed you," Harry said, leaning close to Draco to whisper in his ear.
"It was worth it to see the look on everyone's faces," Draco murmured back, his lips brushing the soft shell of Harry's ear, a tender look crossing his face briefly.
It was noted by both Snape and Weasley, he had no doubt, and would be reported to Dumbledore, but he couldn't summon up enough emotion to care at the moment.
He's such an innocent, Draco thought, settling his hand on the back of Harry's neck comfortably. I shall endeavor to make it stay that way.
"So gentlemen, on Monday I will be offering up a contract for you to both peruse at your disposal, and hopefully we shall come peaceably to a conclusion." Draco said smoothly, picking up a fork to begin eating the cracked snails sitting lifelessly on his plate.
"And if we refuse?" Snape asked, following his example.
"Then it will go not-so-peacefully," Draco said softly, glancing at the men sitting opposite of him.
The two men leaned away from the table, Ron speaking frantically into Snape's ear, but Severus showed no sign of reaction. He only nodded and spoke shortly.
Harry gave up on the snails, and a green chilled mound was set before him. It looked like a salad that had been liquefied. He tentatively put a spoonful in his mouth, and was shocked at the electric zap he received as the ice cream melted around his warm tongue. He snuck a look at his dinner partner next to him, and was caught in the intent gaze fastened on his mouth. Dipping his spoon into the green concoction, he kept his eyes trained on Draco while he let the icy smoothness slip onto his tongue. He rolled it around in his mouth, letting out a quiet moan as the electricity again zapped all of his nerve endings. Draco's silver eyes darkened in passion, and Harry held still as one of Draco's fingertips touched the corner of his mouth. His finger came away with a dab of the sea-foam green ice cream, and unthinking, Harry leaned forward and licked it off of his finger.
A discreet cough brought them both back to reality, and Draco was shocked at his uncontrolled response to the boy sitting next to him. He had forgotten about the meeting entirely, and he was angered at his own weakness.
"Well?" Draco asked shortly, frustration simmering in his cold eyes.
"I suppose we shall just have to do this the not-so-peacefully way," Snape said smoothly, standing up, leaving the food untouched. Ron stood next to him, a smirking smile dancing around the corners of his mouth. They bowed briefly to the pair and left without another word.
Draco slammed his hand down on the table, shocking the tables nearest him with his bout of anger, and stood up as well. Harry stood hurriedly, afraid to say anything to attract the wrath of his partner, and followed the retreating figure of the stiff blonde man as closely as he dared. He knew that Draco was furious about his reaction to Harry, his plans not going accordingly, and everything else he could think of...he only hoped he would not be hurt in the crossfire.
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A/N: More sex and conversation to come!