Harry crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his chair back on two legs, propping dirty boots on the clean table of the DMLE interrogation room. The Auror across the room glared at him.
"Harry Potter, a dirty whore," the man growled. Harry knew exactly why he was so angry. This guy had propositioned him several times, but Harry always turned him down. He didn't do submission, and Aurors always wanted power over someone.
"No one's called me that in years," he mused cheerfully, refusing to rise to the bait.
"I know exactly what they call you, Ink," the Auror sneered.
"Oh, have we met?" Harry asked brightly. He wasn't stupid, he knew their conversation was being recorded. "You know, I thought you looked familiar."
"Shut up!" The Auror roared, slamming his fist on the table. "I'd never touch someone as filthy as you!"
"Funny," Harry smirked, "that's not what you said any of the four times you tried to buy my services. Tell me, Auror, what is it about me that makes you want to hold me down by the throat and fuck me?" He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "Is it because you look at me and see someone worthless, some Dark punk who you can take out your anger at your failed cases on?"
The Auror roared wordlessly and raised a hand to strike him when the door opened.
"That is enough!"
Harry recognised the speaker as Head Auror Scrimgeour, and the other two men as Minister Fudge and Albus Dumbledore.
"Auror Wilson, you are relieved," Scrimgeour snapped. The Auror left with his head hanging down and flushed with anger.
"Harry, my dear boy," Dumbledore said sadly, eyes twinkling.
"Hello, Headmaster," he smiled mockingly. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
-0-
"Merlin's fucking balls!" Blaise screeched, nearly falling off his chair as he looked at the headline of the Daily Prophet. Draco swore as he slopped hot coffee down his shirt.
"Was that really necessary?" he drawled.
"Yes it was." Blaise threw the paper at him. "Look." Draco looked.
BOY-WHO-LIVED FOUND: POTTER LIVING AS KNOCKTURN RENT BOY
"Fucking hell," he growled. The article was full of scandal and shock, talking about the downfall of a young wizard so full of promise into a sordid life of sex and drugs.
And there was a picture.
"Harry," Blaise said incredulously. He turned wide eyes on Draco. "You knew, didn't you?" Draco looked away. "How could you not say anything?! How did you even find him?!"
"He was just…doing his job," Draco winced. "It was completely by chance."
"You…hired…Harry Potter," Blaise said slowly. "You bought a fucktoy, and you dressed him up and paraded him around like someone halfway respectable. Fucking shit, Draco, what the hell is wrong with you? You should have just brought him as a whore and let the rest of us have a go."
"Don't talk about him like that!" Draco snarled, gripping Blaise by the collar.
A cold smirk spread across Blaise's face. "Oh, you like him, that's why. Poor Draco fell in love with a whore, who can't love him back. You tried to save him, didn't you? The dirty slut didn't want to be saved, did he? He likes being used."
Shouting and banging on the door told them Pansy and Theo were here, and Draco let go of Blaise.
"Shut up," he hissed.
"You're on your own, Malfoy," Blaise shot back, still smirking as he straighten his collar.
-0-
"How could you do this to us, Potter?" Ron Weasley demanded. Harry ignored him, sketching roses on the walls of his Ministry cell with a piece of charcoal a nice guard had brought him. "How could you do that to my family?"
"What…exactly…did I do to you?" he asked slowly.
"You left!" Ron shouted. "You let us take the blame! The family that lost Harry Potter!"
Harry let his hand fall to his side and rolled off the little cot. He stalked toward the bars, speaking in a low, dangerous voice. "You do realise I didn't get lost on purpose, right? That I got shoved through a Floo on my own and came out in the wrong place? Your parents were so proud to have Harry Potter over for the summer, but they didn't bother to make sure I was alright. You and your brothers all saw the prison door on my room. You saw that they were starving me. You ripped the bars off my window yourselves," he gripped the bars tightly and watched with dark amusement as Ron stepped back quickly, "and you have the audacity to blame me?"
"Harry, stop this nonsense," Dumbledore scolded, coming near.
Harry scowled and gave the Headmaster a mocking bow. "Albus Dumbledore, an honour to have your esteemed presence visit my lowly captivity."
"Oh Harry," Dumbledore shook his head, giving him a disappointed expression. "Where did it all go wrong?"
"Ah, the million Galleon question. Where did it go wrong, sir?" Harry returned to his cot and slouched against the wall. "Maybe it was when I ran out of money and first let a dealer fuck me for a hit? Maybe earlier, when I first smoked wizard salts? Or how about when I took a wrong turn out of Borgin and Burke's and got lost in Knockturn?" He leaned his elbows on his knees and fixed the old man with a flat glare. "No, how about at the very beginning? I think it all went wrong on November 1st, 1981, when I was left on the doorstep of a family that sincerely wished they could kill me. Starving was the least of my concerns there, sir."
"Harry, I'm sure your relatives are lovely people," Dumbledore said unconcernedly. "You shouldn't tell such lies about your family."
"I told no lies!" Harry felt his always-tenuous control over his magic slip, and the basin in the corner shattered into dust. "They are not my family!" He turned to Ron. "You were never my family either. So sorry you didn't get your fame and recognition for taking in poor orphaned Harry Potter," he sneered.
"You filthy whore!"
Harry picked up his charcoal again. "I'm tired. Please leave." He turned back to his rose, examining the outer-most petal critically. He rubbed out the edge and redrew it. If he perfected the design, he might get it tattooed on his chest.
-0-
"You should visit him."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Draco grouched, draped upside down over the ottoman, hair brushing the floor.
"Potter. Harry." Blaise waved a hand, not looking up from his Charms summer essay. "Go see him."
Draco scoffed. "Do you really think the Ministry would let me in? Not a chance."
"Get your father to get you in," Blaise said breezily. "Tell him you want to gloat or some shit. He'll be all proud and…smirk-y." Draco snorted.
"He told me not to come around anymore," he sighed. "Said I shouldn't fall in love with a rent boy."
"Not bad advice," Blaise muttered. Draco shot him an inverted glare and he sighed. "Yeah, but that was before he got caught, right? There's no way he can go back to that now. Talk to him. Be the person the Ministry trusts him with when they eventually let him go."
Draco sat up, blood rushing away from his head. "You think that would work?"
"It will if you try it and quit fucking sulking," Blaise said flatly. Draco rolled his eyes and flopped back down on the ottoman, already making plans to speak with his father.
-0-
"Looks fantastic, Harry."
Harry tossed a grin over his shoulder at his favourite friendly guard, Auror Green. Green had brought him the charcoal, and later paints, to keep away the boredom. He had been very impressed by Harry's skill, as had Harry, and wanted him to design a tattoo for him based on the shield of the Auror Corps.
Harry had covered one wall with his ideas. In the center was his final design. Two crossed wands over a blank scarlet shield made up the main part. Showers of green sparks fell from the tip of each wand, and ivy wrapped over and around all of it.
"I think it's done," he said, stepping back. "Look good to you?"
"Looks perfect," Green smiled. "Got any suggestions on who I should go to?"
Harry washed the paint off his hands in his replaced basin, thinking. "I reckon you want someone legal, yeah?" Green chuckled. "Go to Skulls & Scars, near the entrance to Knockturn, and ask for Stefan. He's expensive but totally legal. He'll be pleased I sent you."
"Did he do yours?" Green asked curiously.
Harry nodded, dropping onto his cot. "Yeah, he's fantastic, let me do my own designs and everything. He'll take good care of you."
"Thanks." With a quick visual duplication charm, Green copied the image from the wall onto a sheet of parchment and slid it into his pocket. "Oh, you've got another visitor. A boy from Hogwarts."
"Oh? Another?" Harry arched a pierced eyebrow. "Who?"
"Did you honestly forget me, Potter?" a wonderfully familiar, aristocratic voice said, drawing nearer.
Harry broke into a huge smile, rushing for the bars. He needed to get as close to that voice as possible. "Hello, Gorgeous," he called.
Draco smiled back, taking Harry's reaching hand in his. "Miss me?"
"Course not," Harry scoffed. "You?"
"I was quite relieved to be rid of your inked up mug," Draco grinned, pressing Harry's knuckles against his lips. Green watched on with an amused, fond smile as they both sunk down to sit on the floor, fingers linked.
"How badly did the papers write it?" Harry finally asked.
Draco frowned. "You were right. The downfall of the great Harry Potter, sullied forever by the filth of Knockturn Alley. They interview Dumbledore and the Weasley family."
Harry hummed. "They've been visiting me. Ron blames me for making his family look bad, never mind that they did that all themselves. Dumbledore's been giving me the sad-and-disappointed act. It's so pathetic." He rolled his eyes.
"You are heartless," Draco laughed. He pressed Harry's hand to his mouth again. "How are you?"
"Bored." Harry gestured to the covered walls of his little cell. "See? Green brought me the paint and charcoal. I did a design for him."
Draco let out a whistle. "Wow." He looked back at Harry. "Have you considered being a tattoo artist? You designed yours, right?"
"Yeah." Harry frowned at the floor. "You think I could?"
"I know you could." Draco raised his chin with a finger, stroked his cheek. "Are you eating well?"
"I'm eating something," Harry grumbled. "I'm not sure it's food, but it stays down. Stop worrying about me, you know the Ministry is too kind to let me die in here."
"What do you think will happen?" Draco asked, worry in his eyes. Harry reached out to cup his face.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't think they'll put me in prison. Not Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, especially if I get a hold of Rita Skeeter for an exclusive interview. They can't fine me, because I have no money. Maybe probation: have to live with someone Ministry-approved, check in with an Auror, get a real job."
Draco hummed, leaning into Harry's hand. He traced the silhouetted ravens on Harry's neck with gentle fingertips, each enjoying their closeness after their worlds had been turned inside out so suddenly.
"Mr Malfoy," Auror Green called kindly, "it's time to go." His mouth twisted ruefully. "I'm sorry. Ministry regulations."
"I understand," Draco said, rising. Harry went with him, still holding onto his hand tightly.
"Draco," he said, soft and full of emotion. "Thank you for coming."
Draco pressed his forehead to Harry's, as close as they could get with the bars in between them. "I promised I'd find you again," he whispered.
-0-
"Draco, what…exactly…do you think you are doing, associating with Potter?"
Draco glared at his godfather. What right did Severus Snape have to tell him who to associate with? Because he made such great decisions of his own in the past. "I'm helping a friend."
Severus pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "And how long have you and Potter been…friends?" he asked, sounding pained.
"Since just after school let out. What do you want, Severus?" he asked bluntly.
"Has it occurred to you that being Potter's…friend…will not help you politically?" Severus sneered.
"Has it occurred to you that don't care?" Draco shot back, crossing his arms obstinately. "Meeting Harry taught me more than Father ever did. I never wanted to do what Father does, corrupting politicians for a living. I just didn't know that I could go after what I wanted."
"And what is it that you want?" Severus asked carefully.
Draco shrugged. "To be in control of my life," he answered. "Cursebreaking has always sounded interesting. I could easily work for Gringotts with NEWTs in Arithmany and Ancient Runes."
"You could do that without being connected to Potter," Severus pointed out.
"And that would be a very dull, lonely life," Draco snapped. "If you have nothing to say, I shall take my leave. Good day, Severus." He spun on his heel and left his godfather in the Manor library.
-0-
Harry rolled his neck, hearing the joints of his spine crackle and pop. It had been far too long of a day, and all of it spent standing in the docket. He figured not providing a chair was part of the Ministry's punishment.
He tuned out his attorney's closing statement, scanning the upper decks of spectators. He spotted a flash of pale hair shifting in the back and smiled faintly.
"Mr Potter." Harry returned his attention to the acting-Mugwump of the Wizengamot. Dumbledore had been removed for his impartiality, since apparently he was Harry's guardian in the magical world. Harry had laughed when he heard. Didn't he do a great job of it, too?
"This court has reached its decision," the acting-Mugwump said. Harry straightened up and tried to look attentive. "You are found guilty of solicitation. Because of your minor status for a…large majority of the counts, you will not serve a prison sentence. You will also not be fined, because of your current financial status.
"You will be placed on probation for two years. An Auror will be assigned as your probationary officer, with whom you will conduct monthly check-ins. Should you break your probationary restrictions, you will be brought back before this court and your sentenced reassessed.
"Futhermore, you will complete your education at Hogwarts, beginning with this academic year. You will be treated as a late-entry student, tested for your proper academic level, and Sorted again. You are required to complete at least one year of schooling, regardless of the results of your tests.
"This court wishes you the best of luck in your new life. Court adjourned."
Wild whispering broke out all over the courtroom, but Harry ignored it. He sought out that pale hair hiding in the back. Piercing green eyes met liquid mercury grey, and both boys broke into wide smiles.