Harry hated when the Aurors raided. He got twitchy, just sitting in his flat for a week. He couldn't even risk going outside during a raid shutdown, as the Knockturn residents called the week after a raid. He was infamous in the DMLE; every Auror wanted to catch Ink, like the fabled 'big one' of Muggle fishing trips.
Even after the shutdown was lifted, business was slow. Everyone was skittish, looking over their shoulders for those distinctive DMLE scarlet robes.
"How 'bout a kiss, sweetheart?"
Harry looked over the man who spoke. Middle-aged, balding and pudgy, married. Bored. Unhappy and unsatisfied, clearly not getting enough of what he wanted from his wife. She probably ran the household, so he was out here, looking for a little control.
Well, Harry never was very submissive. He was always in control, and people came to him to be taken care of. Clearly, this guy was new.
"Not my style," Harry answered smoothly. "I can do a lot with my mouth, but I never kiss."
"Listen here, you little slut," the man growled, reaching for his throat.
Harry released his tight control over his dangerously unstable magic, letting it prickle across the man's skin, sucking the air from his lungs. "I don't do pain and submission, either. Sorry you're not man enough to stand up to your wife, but pick another whore. Might I suggest the lovely ladies on Dragon Court?"
The man turned purple in the face, a la Vernon Dursley, but he spun on a heel and walked away. Very few people were willing to mess with Harry when he let his magic out. It was difficult for him to control normally, but under pressure it would easily kill.
So he was back to leaning against the wall, waiting for another customer to come by.
-0-
"What happened to that guy you brought on Friday? Harry?" Blaise asked.
Draco shrugged. "He had to go out of town this week." Before the Aurors dragged him up before the Wizengamot on solicitation charges. "He'll be back in a couple of days."
"Good," Blaise said briskly, rubbing his hands together. "Pansy and Theo are meeting us for dinner on Tuesday. Bring him."
Draco stared at him. "You can't just make plans for us!" he cried out.
"Au contraire," Blaise replied. "I can, and I have, and Theo is quite interested to meet this fellow of yours. Eight at the Sunset View. Dress properly."
So it was that Draco found his way to Harry's flat on a Tuesday afternoon, wringing his hands as he waited for the door to open.
"Draco?" Harry asked, looking at him cautiously. "What is it?"
"Can I come it? Lingering on doorsteps is not in my nature."
Harry surveyed him narrowly, but stepped back to let him through. He didn't offer a seat or sit himself, just crossed his arms and waited. "Go on, then."
Draco sighed. "Blaise has made arrangements for us again. Dinner tonight with Pansy and Theodore Nott. He's commanded that I bring you."
Harry's face twisted into a scowl. "I don't care what your little posh friend says, I'm not going to be trotted out like some boy toy at his beck and call."
"It's just for tonight," Draco begged.
Harry played with one of his eyebrow studs. "I can't. I haven't worked in a week, I can't risk another night without any money."
"I'll pay you," Draco said desperately. "Please, I need you to come tonight."
The expression on Harry's face became calculating. "How much?" he asked slowly.
"Fifty Galleons," Draco offered.
"Seventy-five," Harry countered, "and you feel lucky I don't charge by the hour."
Draco wanted to object, tried to think of an objection, and failed. "Alright," he accepted, "but I have to approve what you're wearing."
Harry grinned. "Ok. Sit, I'll be right back." Draco sat on the couch, mentally preparing himself to deal with the fashion war that was sure to come.
In fact, it only took a few hours for them to settle on black slacks and a black button up, again rolled up to his elbows. Harry wore a skinny, blood-red tie that set off the colour of the roses in his disguised tattoos. The longest argument had been over the shoes. Draco had wanted dragonhide boots, but Harry had insisted on some red and white Muggle trainers he called 'Converse.' In the end they had settled on black dress shoes polished to a mirror shine. Draco hadn't even bothered to start a fight over the piercings. They really drew the whole outfit together, anyway. In a very punk, bad boy way.
Draco thought he looked incredibly sexy as they left the flat, taking Harry's hand to Apparate them to the restaurant.
-0-
The Sunset View. Harry stared at the name on the sign, then turned on Draco. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were bringing me here?" he hissed.
Draco leaned back, eyes wide. "I didn't think it mattered," he said honestly.
"Oh, it didn't matter," Harry scoffed. "No, you're just bringing a prettied-up whore to the premier restaurant of magical Britain, where people need years of etiquette training just to get a reservation. No, you're right, it doesn't matter at all!"
"You can leave if you want to," Draco said quietly. "I'll still give you the money and everything."
"Don't you pity me, I am not a charity case," Harry snapped. "I work for my money, whether it's looking pretty or giving head in an alley." He ground the heel of his hand into his forehead, knowing he was in for a headache. "Besides, this is more money than I could make in a night, unless I took every offer." He took a deep breath and straightened up, pushing his shoulders back. "Right, let's go embarrass myself."
Draco gave him a concerned look, but took his hand to lead the way.
The maître d' stared openly at him, eyes flicking from his tattoos to his piercings, over to Draco, down at their joined hands, and back to him. He led them to a private room when Draco gave the name, but he kept watching Harry like he might steal the silver off the tables as they passed.
You can take the whore off the street, but you can't take the street out of the whore, he mused.
Theodore Nott, Theo, was vaguely familiar from Hogwarts, but no memory of him stuck out in Harry's mind. He stared at Harry too, his mouth flapping like a fish until he regained control of himself.
"Hadrian Black, but call me Harry," he said smoothly, offering his hand. Then he sat next to Draco.
Hopefully he could avoid making a complete idiot of himself. After all, Slytherins were the most suspicious people there were. He didn't want any of them digging into his background.
-0-
Dinner was going very well. Harry came off a little uncultured, but Blaise, Pansy and Theo seemed content to attribute it to his eccentric background. They might actually make it through the night easily.
Or they would have, until Theo opened his fat mouth.
"Father's been complaining about how much money the Ministry's spending on raids in Knockturn," he said, like it was rare and precious information. Nott, Sr was the head of the Ministry's Department of Funding and Finance. "Five in three months, and all for nothing!"
"Do they really expect Knockturn people to be stupid enough to be caught by Aurors?" Pansy asked incredulously. "Shopkeepers always keep the Dark things hidden."
"Oh, they're not after the shops," Theo replied with a spark in his eye. "They're trying to get rid of the whores."
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry go stiff in his chair.
"Good riddance, then" Pansy sniffed.
"Ah, come on, they're good for a fuck if you need one," Blaise smirked.
Harry's knuckles were white where he clenched his fists in his lap.
"Why would you do such a thing?" Pansy screeched. "They're filthy creatures, they've probably got all manner of diseases! Why anyone would want to live like that, I'll never know," she added loftily.
"No, you won't, will you?" Harry said in a low, cold voice, drawing shocked looks from across the table. "Has it occurred to you that most of them don't want to live that way, they have to? Not everyone can live on Daddy's money until they marry someone else's money, after all," he pointed out venomously. "Some people get left to scrounge in the dirt, and the Ministry punishes them for it." He gave them all an icy glare as he pushed his chair back and stood. "Excuse me."
"What's his problem?" Blaise asked when he was gone.
Draco glared at him. "He lives in Knockturn, you arse. He's got a disgusting two-room flat because that's all he can afford, and the people you see as willing bodies or 'filthy creatures' are his friends." Pansy looked away, ashamed. "He didn't grow up with money, like us, he grew up in dirt too." He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go convince him that I'm not nearly the insensitive bastard that my friends are. Thank you for picking up our bill."
He swept out of the room, leaving a shocked and curious silence behind.
He caught up to Harry just as he was unlocking his flat. "Harry, wait, please-"
"Go home, Draco," Harry replied without looking at him. "You and I, we're nothing alike. Stick with the high society, marry a nice rich wizard and take summer trips to France. Don't bother wasting your time on a rent boy."
"Harry, stop." Draco slid a foot in the door, keeping him from closing it. "I'm not wasting my time with you, and I'm not running back to the Manor so more posh old ladies can sneer at me and make me marry their daughters." He could feel Harry's magic running over his skin, a testament to his high emotion. "Just let me in, please. I'll make some tea, and…we can just talk, alright?"
Harry didn't turn around, but his shoulders slumped and he stopped trying to shut the door on him. Draco stepped inside.
"It's not the first time I've heard opinions like that," Harry said, after they had their tea. He sat on the chair, his legs curled under him in a disarmingly childlike fashion. "But it's always been from people who know exactly what I am, trying to hurt me. It's not every man for himself on the streets, we protect each other, so I know no one will hurt me and I can ignore them. But that…" he shook his head. "I'd forgotten what normal people think of us. That we aren't real people."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know-"
"Didn't know how they felt? Or just didn't know they would bring it up in dinner conversation like that?" Harry snorted. "It doesn't matter, anyway. You can't apologise for what your friends think."
Draco nodded, sipping at his tea. Harry had yet to meet his eyes.
"You asked me about my money, that first time you were here," he said quietly. "The truth is, I don't have any. Not anymore. My father turned the family vault over to Dumbledore during the war, and he drained it to support the Order of the Phoenix. All I had was my trust vault, which was just enough to get me through school, and I ended up spending it all on drugs."
Draco gaped at him.
Harry smirked weakly. "No one's innocent on the streets. I spent nearly three years doped up to the eyeballs. The money ran out just a year ago, and I started paying for it with…other means."
"What did you take?" Draco asked tentatively.
"Anything I could get." Harry stared at the wall to his right. "Muggle, magical, it didn't matter. Illegal potions, wizard salts, heroin, cocaine, LSD, ecstasy. I drank too, all the time. My magic is probably the only reason I'm still alive, but it destabilised my core, so it's gone pretty much wild."
"Are you clean now?"
"A year come August 19th," Harry answered proudly. "I haven't so much as had a drink in ten months."
"But at the club-" Draco began, confused, but Harry just smirked.
"Just water. I made a deal with the bartender."
Harry told him how he'd practically seduced the man, making Draco both impressed and amused by his antics, until he noticed how late it was.
"I should go," he said regretfully, standing. Harry's smile dropped and he nodded.
"Draco," he called as the blond turned away.
"Yeah?" Draco turned back, almost hopeful.
Harry gave a sad smile. "The money," he reminded.
"Oh." Draco counted out seventy-five Galleons from a bottomless purse connected to his personal vault, stacking them on an end table. "Goodnight, Harry."
Harry just nodded once, not looking at him or the money.
-0-
Harry was in the middle of convincing some poor fool to part with his money when Draco showed up again.
"Oi, back off, Blondie," the man growled as Draco came close and slid a possessive hand across the back of Harry's neck.
"I don't think I will," Draco sneered back. "Besides, I can offer twice what you could ever afford."
The man growled, but he eventually fell under the weight of Draco haughty stare and left.
Always aware that eyes were watching from the dark windows and shadowed corners all over Knockturn, Harry turned to Draco with his usual behaviour.
"Well hello, Gorgeous," he purred, caressing Draco's chest. "What say we see if you're as well-endowed as your vaults, hm?" He hooked a couple fingers into the waistband of Draco's slacks and pulled him toward the alley.
Once covered by darkness, he pulled out his wand and cast a privacy ward. "What the hell was that?" he hissed. "I'd got him to pay twice my going rate!"
"I'll pay," Draco said apologetically.
"Oh, you're going to pay through the nose," Harry growled. "You drove off my first customer in days. Better start counting your gold now."
He dropped to his knees, handling Draco roughly in his anger, though from the breathy gasps above him, the blond didn't mind too much. He gripped Draco's cock tightly and gave a few rough strokes as he bit and sucked at the skin over his hipbones and inner thighs. He ran his open mouth down the shaft, giving just a hint of teeth before he finally put the whole thing in his mouth and sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks. Draco screamed as his orgasm was wrung out of him.
"Eighty Galleons, twice what the other guy was willing to pay," he said coldly, wiping his mouth. Draco counted out the gold and handed it over with shaky hands. Harry pocketed it and rose, leaving Draco slumped against the wall. "Next time wait your turn. I don't belong to you," he spat, striding back out to the street corner.
-0-
Draco let the bites and bruises on his pale skin heal naturally, a reminder of the way he'd stupidly acted on a jealous impulse. Blaise had given him a ribbing that time he'd spotted him coming out of the shower with a towel slung around his hips.
The Italian boy hadn't forgotten Harry in the least, though he was embarrassed over the way they'd acted at the Sunset View. Now, apparently, he wanted to apologise, and he wanted Draco to bring Harry to a casual dinner at their flat.
Pansy and Theo even agreed.
So Draco sighed and grumbled and went to Harry's flat early one afternoon, nearly two weeks after he'd last seen Harry.
Harry opened to door slowly, looking thin and haggard. The stark black ink of his tattoos only emphasized how pale he was.
"How much?" he said tiredly, not even greeting him. "And how much more would you give me if I let you fuck me?"
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, concerned, as he stepped into the flat. "I thought you didn't do sex."
"That was when I wasn't having trouble working," Harry answered, already dropping to his knees and reaching for Draco's flies.
Draco caught his wrist. "Stop. I didn't come for that." Harry looked at him with blank eyes. "My friends want to apologise to you. They want you to come over for dinner."
"So you aren't here for sex?" Harry clarified.
"No." Draco looked at him closely, noting the dark circles under his eyes. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"I need the money," Harry muttered, eyes downcast. He sat back on his haunches, letting his wrist hang limply in Draco's grasp.
"When's the last time you ate properly?"
Harry shrugged. "About the same time as the raid," he said quietly, eyes on the floor still.
Draco gaped. "That was over a month ago!" Harry shrugged again. "Merlin, Harry, you could have said something."
"Not a charity case."
"No," Draco sighed. "No, you're not." He let go of Harry and sat on the sofa. "Look, I'll pay you to come over tonight, alright?"
"How much?" Draco hated the desperation in Harry's voice.
"A hundred." He could see the calculating look in Harry's eye, trying to figure out if he could live on that. He caught Harry's chin and raised it until grey eyes met green. "And I'll stock your kitchen. Enough food for two weeks."
"Alright," Harry whispered. He stood. "What should I wear?"
While Pansy was apologising effusively to Harry after they got to the flat, Blaise dragged Draco aside.
"What's wrong with him? He looks half-dead."
Draco sighed. Of course there was no way to hide Harry's gaunt appearance and the sickly pale skin that made his colour-disguised tattoos even brighter. "He's had it rough since the last raid. He said Knockturn always shuts down for a while after raids, but it's never been this bad before."
"He can't be that bad off," Blaise argued. "Look how he dresses. No one who's starving buys silk or linen."
"No, but anyone with enough magic can Transfigure them for a few hours," Draco pointed out. Blaise opened his mouth again, but Draco cut him off. "Just leave it, alright? People like us, people with old money, we'll never understand. Just…don't ask."
Blaise looked at him for a moment, but then gave a sharp nod and turned back to the rest of the group, where Theo was taking his turn grovelling.
"Blaise noticed, didn't he?" Harry asked in a low voice.
"They've all noticed. They just aren't asking because they don't want to make you angry again," Draco replied quietly. "I told him all of Knockturn's having a rough time, so don't worry. And don't bother with table manners, just eat before you collapse."
Harry shot him a weak smile as they all headed for the kitchen.
"So, Harry," Pansy asked between bites of roast mutton, "how did you end up living in the roughest district in Britain?"
Harry cut off a slightly too large piece of meat and stuffed it in his mouth. Pansy suppressed a shudder. "I ran away," he said with a shrug. "When I was young. My parents are gone, dead or abandoned me, so there was no one to miss me when I left."
"But how did you end up in Knockturn?" Theo pressed.
Harry shot him a look. "I was trying to get to Diagon, but I had a Floo accident and came out in Borgin and Burke's. Then I got lost and had the good fortune to run into one of probably a handful of people there that would protect me, a blind man named Johnson. I've hardly left the district since."
He took a long drink while Draco's friends exchanged looks, then expertly steered the conversation away from him by asking about what NEWTs they were taking.
"Harry! You want a drink?" Blaise called after dinner.
"Can't," Harry grinned. "I have work tomorrow."
"What do you do?" Theo asked.
"I do a little stock work for Borgin," Harry replied. "Not much, but it's money."
"Do you really?" Draco asked in his ear when everyone was distracted.
"For about two weeks now," Harry answered softly. "I didn't want to risk having a real job before, but I need it. I come in a few hours a week and handle the worst things he gets, and he slips me some gold under the table. Nothing official, nothing that can be tracked. Works for both of us."
"Stay here tonight," Draco whispered. "Stay with me."
"Draco," Harry sighed. "I can't. I shouldn't."
"Please."
"…Alright."
-0-
Harry knew he wasn't in his own bed before he opened his eyes. It was soft here, for one thing, and warm for another. Quiet breaths puffed gently against the side of his face.
Draco looked so soft and innocent when he slept. He didn't sneer or smirk, or pucker his forehead in confusion, which was the expression he normally wore around Harry. Fine white hair lay across his face.
He really was gorgeous, definitely the best-looking man Harry had ever seen.
He sighed and moved Draco's wayward hand off his stomach to get up. Locating his Converse, he sat on the edge of the bed to pull them on.
"What time is it?" Draco mumbled, his voice full of sleep.
"Dunno," Harry replied, refreshing the disguising charm on his tattoos. "Time for me to go. The hundred?"
Draco handed over a bag full of gold. "I'll have the food in your flat by this evening," he promised.
"Thanks," Harry muttered.
Draco sat up partway and caught his hand as he turned to leave. "Harry…"
Harry slipped his hand free. "I'll see you later, Draco."
He shut the bedroom door soundlessly behind him and slipped out of the flat unnoticed.
-0-
"Is this another invitation?"
"No, I just wanted to see you," Draco replied, sitting in his usual spot on Harry's couch.
Harry passed a hand across his face. "You can't keep doing this, Draco."
Draco frowned. "Doing what?"
"This!" Harry gestured to him on the couch, take-out from Muggle London in his hands. "This…getting attached to me." He hesitated. "Falling in love."
"And why not?" Draco demanded. "Why do you get to tell me what I feel?"
"Draco…" Harry dropped into his chair and buried his face in his hands. "It would be so easy to love you," he whispered, "but I can't."
"Why?" He tried to reach for Harry, but the other teen drew back and Draco let his hand fall between them. "What's so wrong with it?"
"I'm a rent boy," Harry said bluntly. "A whore. I couldn't keep doing that if I was with you, it would be wrong. But I can't give it up either, I don't have any skills to get a job. And I won't be kept, like a pretty pet."
"Harry-"
"You shouldn't come around here anymore." Harry met his eyes, his face closed off. "There's only a few weeks until you go back to school. Focus on getting your NEWTs and making your family proud, not on trying to help some street corner hooker."
"I'm not going to forget you," Draco promised. His throat felt thick at the idea of leaving Harry Potter behind, never seeing him again.
"I'm not telling you to," Harry replied. "Just don't look for me anym-"
He was interrupted by a small grey owl hitting his window. As Draco watched, his expression went from guarded to surprised to panicked, and he rushed to open it. The owl's letter leapt off its leg and folded itself into the shape of a mouth, which whispered in Harry's ear. Harry went white.
"Leave. Now," he urged when it was finished. He burned the letter.
"What? Why?" Draco stood, heartbreak forgotten.
"The Ministry found me," Harry said in a rush, scrambling for his worn boots and pulling on a black hoodie that hid his tattoos. "Johnson works with the Ministry owls, the tip was from him. They're coming for me." He turned to Draco and started shoving him out the door. "Leave, please. Don't be found here."
"Harry." He gripped the tattooed boy's face in his hands and kissed him, hard and fast. "I'll find you again," he promised, just before he turned on his heel and Apparated away.