Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Notes: All notes in prologue. I'm trying to not make Ron a jerk in this, because truth be told, I love Ron (even though he's an ass). Tell me how I do, yeah?
Fun fact: Most of this chapter was written on my cell phone.
Glitter
By
So Devious
Chapter One
Draco's "Mental Diary" - June 18th
I can't believe my luck! Free room and board, no nurses man-handling me, and a sexy Harry Something-or-other to keep me company. I wonder if they'll let me see Scorpius...
"Hm, so this is Harry and Ron's, place. Not too bad." Draco commented, taking in the modest sized sixth floor apartment. The living room was somewhat spacious, although in no way luxurious. A plain black leather sofa sat in front of a surprisingly nice flat screen television, with a matching loveseat adjacent to that.
"Don't get to used to it. Oi, Ron, what's that number?" Ron rattled off the number, Harry punching in the numbers on a sleek black Blackberry.
"Don't bother." Draco chimed in, without thinking. "That's my dad's cell, and he's out of town. He doesn't answer phone calls when he's out unless their business calls."
"What the hell, isn't his missing son business enough?" Draco shook his head. Damn, those two were smarter than they looked.
"Even if he did answer, he's out of the country. He couldn't get you your money right away anyhow." He replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. More stupid lies. True, Lucius Malfoy was away on business, but of course he'd answer the phone if someone was calling with good news, that they'd found his ickle Draco. Not to mention transferring money was nothing, unless these boys didn't have a bank account, which was simply laughable.
"What do you mean, 'he couldn't send it', just do a wire transfer." That big mouth, Ron, chimed in. Draco was officially starting to lose his cool, so it was time to play dirty.
"You two have no idea what you're doing, do you?" He asked, a sardonic chuckle passing his lips. "You really can;t see what you're getting yourselves into. It's a bluff, you know. What are you going to tell them? 'Oh, we're the blokes who snatched you're son off the streets, please send us money'." The blond scoffed. "You two will be in jail in no time. You'll be lucky if you see one red cent."
There was a pregnant silence as Harry sighed and took a seat at the wooden table in the small adjacent kitchen. The little twat was right. Even if his parents were overjoyed and more than happy to pay for their son's safe return, they couldn't very well turn him over without facing serious time, especially if they tried to up the ante by demanding more money.
As Harry sat, Draco couldn't help but notice what the brunet was packing near his mid-section. Holstered at his waist was a small caliber handgun.
"You really carry that around with you? He asked, face alight as he quickly took the pistol out of Harry's waistband. Ron quickly ducked down and the brunet gaped before snatching it right back and laying it on the kitchen table.
"Are you barmy? You'll shoot someone's eye out! Then what'll we tell you're parents?"
"That's a good question, mate...what do we do?" Ron asked, running a hand through his copper hair. One lesson he should have remembered when leading this kind of life style: if a plan sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
"I don't know...how long will you're parents be gone?"
"Two weeks."
"That's not too bad. Plenty of time to come up with a plan to get the money and get pretty boy, here, back home without Papa Malfoy finding out just who we are."
Draco sighed in response. Not exactly the outcome he was hoping for, but it did give him two weeks to come up with a plan. "So..." he started as he casually plopped down on the sofa. "What do I do for clothes?"
"What's wrong with the clothes you've got on?" Ron quipped, indignant.
"Oh, nothing. It's fine. I could wear the same clothes for two weeks and stink up the place. Perhaps you'd like me to piss over the fire-escape and stand in the rain in lieu of a shower, too?" the blond replied sarcastically. "But that wouldn't bode well when I finally get reunited with my parents...I don't think I could talk them out of pressing charges after they hear how I was treated like an animal, without even a fresh change of clothes."
Harry and Ron shared a pained look. The little shit was right; the worse they treated him, the worse their chances of getting away with this mess scott-free, and he and Ron agreed long ago that they were too pretty for prison. Jail was one thing, prison was something else entirely.
"Alright, you bloody ponce, what do you suggest we do about it?"
"Oh, just go get them." Draco replied casually, shrugging as he turned on the TV. They didn't allow television at the center, claiming that too many shows contained "triggers", images or references that set off addictions or stress, and the blond couldn't be happier to make up the quality time he had missed with his favorite shows.
"The hell do you mean, 'go get them'? How do you expect us to do that?" Harry shouted, snatching the remote control from the captive and turning of the TV.
"Simple: just go to my house and get them. Oh, and don't wake Scorpius, if he's home. He's got terrible sleeping habits, and I was trying to break him of that nonsense before I left."
Harry heaved a sigh as he raked his fingers through his jet black hair. "Alright." He conceded, "Alright, that's easy enough. Just give us the key."
The was another pause before Draco gave a shy smile and shrugged."Sorry, those bastards took everything I had on me, including my keys, and I wasn't able to grab it."
"Then how the hell are we supposed to get in?"
"Well, there's a fire escape. Just scurry up, pop in, take what you can and bring it back, simple."
"You want us to break into your house?" Ron asked, skeptical.
"What? Judging from the look of this TV, you two have no problem with breaking and entering, am I right?"
-
"This is it. Draco said it was the second floor, second window from the left." Harry stated as he and Ron stared up at the immense brownstone townhouse, looking menacing in the dark of the night. The fire escapes crept up the side in zig-zag patterns alongside the sprawling ivy, remind the two of those posh penthouse apartments in New York they always saw on TV.
"Alright. Let's go." he said, trying to carefully bound up the cold metal stairway without making too much noise. Once they reached the second floor, Harry tried to pry open the window. "Shit! Little bastard could have told us it was locked. What now?"
Ron pushed him to the side, taking something out of one of the old backpacks they had brought along with them. With skill that could only come with practice, Ron quickly taped the entirety of the windows, placing the thick strips of silver duct tape close together before applying another layer, covering up any seams or cracks. Taking a deep breath, the redhead leaned back against the railing and gave a hard, harsh kick to the window, smiling at the subtle crack, barely heard over the noise of the street. The two shared a quick high five before Ron peeled away the duct tape, careful not to let any of the glass fall to the ground, before the two bound inside.
Draco's room was immaculate: classic oak wood furniture, a huge four-poster bed against the far wall. To the right was a door, slightly ajar to reveal a large walk-closet practically over flowing with clothes.
"C'mon, let's get this over with." Harry whispered before he started grabbing various articles of clothing off of hangers and of the closet floor. Ron set to work grabbing things out of various drawers in the dresser, neither stopping until the backpacks were full.
They were almost in the clear when the door leading to the hallway slowly crept open, the faint light of the hall pouring into the other wise dark room.
"Dad?" a small voice pierced the silence as a little boy, no older than three, crept into the bedroom. The two men panicked, making a mad dash for the busted window.
"Scorpius, what are you doing up-" a second voice was cut short, taking in the two figures trying to escape. "Oi! Who are you? What are you two doing?" The butler cried as he darted for the window in an attempt to grab one of them.
"Dobby, stop! They're dad's friends!" the child held onto the tiny butler, stopping his pursuit of the men, who bound out the window, down the stairs, and bolted down the street.
"Well? How'd it go?" Draco asked, sitting up from where he was stretched out on the sofa and smiling sweetly at the two as though he were asking how their day was.
"Well enough. Some kid walked in and your butler followed him, but I don't think they saw our faces." Harry replied, smacking the blond on the bottom of his feet to get him to make room. Draco rolled his eyes.
"He was supposed to be in bed. If I ever go back home, I'll be having a long talk with dad about getting him fired."
"What do you mean if? This little arrangement is only temporary, right Harry?" Ron argued, closing the fridge and cracking open a cold beer. Harry nodded. "S'what I thought. Two weeks and your arse is out of here, yeah? I'm gonna go call 'Mione and see how the baby's doing." he mumbled before he stalked off to the back, undoubtedly to his room.
"Guess that just leaves you and I." Draco purred. It was high time he got to know his emerald-eyed captor a little better. Harry merely grunted in response, keeping his eyes fixed on the trashy reality show Draco had been watching.
"So...what's your sign?" the blond joked, and Harry gave him a look.
"Seriously? What, are you from the '70's or something?"
"Well, we're going to spend two long weeks together, we should get to know each other, yeah?" Harry rolled his ivy-green eyes.
"This isn't some kind of goddamn sleep-away camp, Malfoy. There will be no 'getting to know each other', you've been kidnapped and are being held hostage so do whatever it is hostages do, but be quiet about it."
Draco let out a huff, but quickly regained his bearings. He made a show of stretching out his long legs before easing himself off of the sofa, trying to hide a smile as he caught Harry staring at his hips and thighs. Even he had to admit, he had a body that could rival any females: nice, round hips, legs the stretched for days, and an ass you could bounce a quarter on, and he made sure he moved them all in a way that would have Harry's eyes locked on him with every step he took.
"So, I don't drink beer. You boys have any real liquor around here?" Draco asked, bending over, rather provocatively to peer in the fridge. Sure enough, there was a handle of whiskey pushed to the back behind long-necked beers and various carry-out leftovers. Smirking, the blond snatched up the handle and unscrewed the cap before taking it with him back into the living room, taking a swig straight from the bottle as he plopped back down on the sofa. "Fancy a drink?"
His smirk widened into a toothy grin as he watched Harry stare, almost dazedly, as a tiny bead of alcohol that had missed his mouth trailed down his throat and crawled down his chest. "See something you like?"
Harry seemed to snap out of his trance but didn't answer, frowning as he snatched the bottle away, knocking it back and letting the liquor warm his throat.
A/N: I'm starting this fic out on a humorous, maybe even cute, note, but the plot thickens, I assure you.
A/N 2: So, I had to e-mail this from my cell phone and copy and paste it to my word-pad, the copy and paste it again to my word processor, which fucked it up considerably as far as format. (because I built my computer and was too cheap to buy Windows Office, I'm using a freeware program instead.), so if anything is wrong with the formatting just let me know and I'll try my hardest to fix it. Remember friends, just because something seems more convenient, doesn't mean it won't give you hell in the end :(