Title: First Mistake, First Achievement
Author: Seer M. Anno
Warning: Flashes of prostitution (thanks to rethahelena for suggesting it! There's some Tintin related drama for you! :D), Language, Non-Explicit Sex
Pairing: Draco/Harry, slight!Lucius Malfoy/Lily Potter
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and friends. I only play with them a bit, don't sue.
Summary: He tells her what happened in his early days.
A/N: This is written for Drarry-For-Life's Songfic Contest. I was rereading Who's That Little Girl and decided to develop one aspect from the story. I really want to learn this song on piano! The lyrics are White Houses by Vanessa Carlton and Stephan Jenkins, which this story is loosely based on. I'd be lying if I don't say I was inspired by Cally's lovely Many Ways to Say Goodbye, The Escape Series, and a certain fic by Reth. Oh, between my friends, Spin the Bottle is usually combined with Truth or Dare, so in here the game is like that. This might be the hardest story I've ever written, but I hope you like it!
Sorry for the long wait but my computer crashed, you know. And since I have to start over, I was stuck for a while. Decide to help Reth with her Tintin fics. And guess what? Someone in my church lent my mom a laptop! It's huge and old, but I love it nonetheless, and my passion is slowly back. I think I have to finish this before I go to my 'homestay program' (we call it Live In here) in Jogjakarta this Saturday. For anyone who's wondering about Who's That Little Girl, it's halfway done, maybe I'll post it after I come home. :)
First Mistake, First Achievement
Draco x Harry
Seer M. Anno
She stares coldly at a young man who is walking into the room. He merely nods before opening his trenchcoat, revealing a tight outfit he—just like other dancers—always uses. She manages to look stoically over that shabby clothing. He is too beautiful for that thing.
"What makes you come this late?" she asks curtly. "All the kids are home already."
He only shakes his head, muttering something under his breath. She frowns but knows it isn't unexpected. He always full with secrets, his eyes will darken every time she asks him about his personal business. She never gives up, though. He is too mysterious to be forgotten.
"You're lucky that I'm still here," she eventually says, breaking the eerie silence. He looks up, his eyes fills with the usual passion and wonder. "You still remember the steps I've taught you?"
"Yes," comes the slow answer. She pats his shoulder and walks towards the polished Grand Piano, the only luxurious thing in the room. She plays a song while he dances on the wooden floor. She always admires his perfect body, perfect steps, and perfect voice. If he dances in a crowd of professional dancers, no doubt he will stick out. He is too perfect to be in the crowd.
After the song ends, he stands motionlessly on the middle of the dance floor. She looks up from the piano and is greeted by silence. He always does this every time he finished dancing. "What?" she asks. "Something you want to tell me?"
"I've made a song. For... for me. For the next show." He looks down. "No... I don't mean... I like that song, the one you gave me, this is similar with that one, but I..."
She nods silently at him and stands. "Enough. Just show me, I don't have much time."
He walks to the door, the place where he has hung his trenchcoat. Several seconds later, three pieces of shabby paper are shoved into her vision, and she examines the notes and lyrics intently. She looks back at him. "Nice song. Now, show me what you have for this. Remember, you have to be good."
For the first time, the guy smiles a small smile. "I won't let you down."
She knows that he won't. She simply wants to make sure. So she tries the song on the piano several times before playing it completely. She watches how he dances now, and fortunately can handle her shock. He is much more beautiful now, much more perfect.
His passion is obviously shown as he moves his body, and sadness from the song is clear from his movements. She has seen many things in her life, but she has never seen a dance more beautiful than this. After the song ends, she can't help but to give him a standing ovation. He looks dumbfounded at her sudden action, but bows politely.
"You may use this song. I'll play it," she says. "I'll tell Ron and Luna about it." He nods gratefully and prepares to go. His usual practice is over yesterday, and today he comes only for that song. But she stops him.
"Wait. I need to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"What makes you dance so passionately, so full of life?" she asks for the millionth time since he first came and showed her his perfect moves. She knows he won't give her an honest answer or an answer at all, but today she is too impressed, and it seems today is her lucky day.
"It was my first mistake," he finally answers in a small whisper. His face darkens.
He sits down and she settles next to him. He looks like he is ready to tell her a story. "Yes, but now I realize that he is also my first achievement."
And after that, he really tells her a story. A story of his, to be precise.
Crashed on the floor when I moved in
This little bungalow with some strange new friends
Three years earlier...
Harry could feel large hands pushed him, colliding him face first against the floor. He didn't need the light to see that his nose had broken and now bleeding slightly. His glasses were thrown, and he needed several minutes searching with his hands to find it.
"Better not waste your time, slut. Get yourself ready for your first client."
That voice. And the sound of door slammed close.
Harry closed his eyes and let himself be drowned by the darkness. He surrendered to the eerie darkness for several minutes before opened his eyes, trying to compose himself. After fumbling around the room, he could finally turn on the light. He let his eyes looked around the small room.
His new room was small, but at least it was bigger than his cupboard below the stairs. Harry began to shudder when he remembered his uncle, his aunt, his whale of a cousin. Vernon had a huge debt to this man, Riddle, the man who had pushed him face first to the floor, and sold Harry so they would left untouched by the debt collectors. Besides, they never liked him since the day Lily and James Potter died and Harry was left to them to foster.
Harry could do nothing to resist his uncle's grips when he dragged Harry into Riddle's car, while Petunia stuffed his too few belongings to the backseat next to the raven-haired young man. Dudley did nothing like usual, he watched the scene as if it was an interesting performance, a huge bar of chocolate (which even Harry never touched) tight in his grip as he ate them.
And now here he was, a weak young man who had nothing within. Nothing, not even dignity.
Stay up too late
And I'm too thin
Several months after Harry came into The Funhouse (what a repulsive name, he once thought), he woke up because of a nightmare. It wasn't novel, since he always did. He would wake up because of the rough hands touching him, whispering dirty words to him, the dim, creepy lights of the room, hot breaths on his small body...
He would jump awake and waste his time just staring to the darkness of the night. Darkness had been, and still was, his only friend. He could hear the next room's occupant, an arrogant, pug-faced woman named Pansy, moaned deeply, followed by almost same moan from a man, and Harry covered his ears. He didn't want to hear them. He didn't want to remember the nights he had been through.
His clients seemed to like his service, and Harry was more than thankful. Thankfulness was a foreign feeling for him. But once he experienced one, he accepted it with open arms, even if it came from a client who maybe wouldn't remember his name.
That didn't mean all of them were thankful. One of them had said that Harry hadn't been his type. She said that he had been too thin, and had refused his service. Riddle had beaten him that night. Harry had stayed up until sunrise, too hurt to sleep.
Since then, he always stared out the door and imagined if he was free. But... if he was free, he wouldn't know where to go, where to stay, what job he could do, how he could support himself...
Maybe, just maybe, he was supposed to stay here until the day he died.
We promise each other
It's 'till the end
Draco Malfoy frowned. He knew that this was going to come. But still, he couldn't believe it. "To where?" he asked. The person he talked to, a woman named Astoria, didn't even look at him as she packed her belongings out from Malfoy Manor.
"I don't know," Astoria answered honestly. She finally looked up and stared at him with something resembled annoyance in her eyes. "Wherever Theo takes me, it seems. You don't need to know. It's done, Draco. We're done."
Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest. He wasn't a type of man who would sit back in heartache. But Astoria Greengrass had been not only his long-time girlfriend, but also his best friend since they were kids. It was not an easy thing, seeing her leaving him for another man. In their first date, they had promised to love each other until the end. Perhaps this is the end, Draco thought.
But it was indeed easier than kept staying with her, Draco finally thought. Between their time together, Draco had found out that he preferred men than women, and Astoria knew she had to go before both of them could, too, lose their friendship.
"You better pay Pansy a visit," Astoria suddenly said, breaking the silence. "I don't think her habit is acceptable in our circle." Her face curled in disgust. "Pansy Parkinson, the whore. Nice label. Tell her I'll leave, and she is lucky I still have a heart to invite her into Theo's and my farewell party."
Draco sighed. After Marcus, Pansy's boyfriend, died, Pansy had been out every night, whoring herself. He didn't know why she did that, but like Astoria said, it wasn't acceptable in their circle. Pansy, Draco, Astoria, Theo, and some other friends of theirs were from wealthy families, old families who had everything in their hands. A whore in a circle like this surely was repulsive.
Along with Astoria, Pansy was Draco's closest female friend. Narcissa, Draco's mother, was Pansy's late parents' best friend. He never visited her in her prostitution house, because he felt too high for doing such an activity. She never talked to him either, at least not about her new 'job'. She was rich, and now she was a whore? Foul.
After Astoria left, Draco left too, and now was driving to the centre of the city. He turned on the radio and listened to it. It was playing a drama Draco didn't know, but he liked it nonetheless. He liked radio dramatization, because some of them never failed to make him laugh, or at least smile.
He stopped his car in front of a big, white house. According to the address Pansy once gave him, this was the place. Draco felt out of place just to see the house... no, the bungalow. This bungalow... it wasn't like a usual prostitution house. This is more like a mansion, Draco thought.
Draco made himself welcome, and walked in. "I wish to see Pansy Parkinson."
The slutty woman behind the table smiled seductively at him, but pouted in disappointment when Draco didn't even care at her attempts. "Alright, sir. But do you mind if I tell you that she's a lousy lay, she..."
"I do not wish to hear all that bullshit," Draco interjected. "I wish to see her. Now, if you please."
She scowled and disappeared in the corridor, and after a minute, was back with a startled Pansy. Knowing her since she was an infant made Draco knew her every moves and expressions. They went outside, where Pansy lit her cigarette, and Draco glared at her.
"Sorry," she said, although she didn't sound sorry at all. "I forget you can't stand people smoking." She stepped on the cigarette. "And now, my dear Draco, what do you want from me, until you can't wait for me to have my time outta here?"
"Astoria's leaving," he said shortly, and Pansy's eyes widen.
Draco merely nodded. Pansy smiled a small smile and patted him on the back. "I know you're not really that sullen. She has never been your cup of tea, or any other woman in that matter."
Pansy was the first one who knew that he was gay, and didn't kill him for it. Draco's parents had been in an uproar, but finally Narcissa could regain her senses and told him that it was okay. Lucius Malfoy, though, wasn't that easy. Astoria was the fourth person, and surprisingly could handle the news rather well, but then Draco found out that she had dated Theo at that time.
"She invites you to their farewell party."
"Invitation or not, I'll make myself welcome," she said snottily, putting her hand on her waist. "When is it?"
"Next Sunday, Greengrass' Mansion. Maybe there will be some crappy games or such." Draco shrugged. "You know us."
"Tell her I'll come. And maybe I'll take a friend with me." At Draco's frown she snickered. "Astoria will hate it, but I know Theo won't refuse. The more the merrier, he always says. Oh, and Draco?"
"You do have weakness of emerald eyes, don't you?"
Now we're spinning empty bottles
It's the five of us
Draco hated Spin the Bottle game. He never ended up in a good shape after that game. But apparently, and unfortunately, he was the only one who did. It was seven of them, and Draco decided to leave. He went upstairs, to his room, and picked up a random book.
The book had an emerald colour as the cover, and Draco couldn't help but to think about Pansy's friend. His name was Harry, and he had the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. It was no doubt that he was also a whore, but he looked decent enough as one. Astoria had lifted her eyebrow in suppressed anger on the fact that Pansy dared to take a friend (another whore!) into their party, but Theo only smiled and greeted Harry as if he was their old friend.
It was seven of them; Draco Malfoy the richest, Theodore Nott the happiest, Astoria Greengrass the snobbish little lady, Pansy Parkinson the snotty whore, Blaise Zabini the quietest, Vincent Crabbe the dumbest, and Harry Potter the mysterious dude. Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bultsrode (Crabbe's girlfriend) and Marcus Flint died three months ago, overdosing themselves with drugs. What Draco liked from his circle of friends was the fact that they were indeed clean, they never touched drugs, and if one of them was, he or she would be kicked out their society. Smoking was still allowed, though.
Draco knew Pansy had told Theo to place Draco and Harry in the same room, and Theo had obliged happily. Theo was also the one who didn't judge Draco for being a shirt-lifter, a while after the blond broke up with Astoria. He simply shrugged and said, "To me, you're going to be the same rich prat a Draco Malfoy will be. If you get a guy who's worthy your notice, I can't do more than congratulate you." His words made Draco rethought his decision to kill Astoria and him.
Like Pansy had said, Draco indeed had a weakness with emerald eyes. Emerald eyes reminded him of a portrait his father had in his workroom, a beautiful woman with red hair and emerald eyes. Draco had first seen it when he was a little boy, and fell in love with her immediately. Lucius eventually put it down and changed it to Narcissa's photograph, much to her happiness and Draco's disappointment.
Draco's train of thoughts stopped when he heard a knock on the door. Maybe Astoria's servant."Come in."
The door creaked open and Harry Potter walked in slowly, his eyes casted on the floor. "Hello," he said softly.
"Hello to you too," Draco answered. "Why aren't you downstairs?"
Harry shrugged and sat on his bed. "Let's say I hate that game too." He lay down and closed his eyes.
Draco hummed in response. He tried to concentrate at the book he was reading, but his eyes kept glancing at the other boy.
"What do you think about Pansy?" Harry suddenly asked, opening his eyes and Draco blinked, afraid he might be caught staring.
"She has a nice heart below that bitchy attitude. Believe me, I've been friends with her since I was born."
Harry was opening his mouth, wanting to say something, when suddenly the door barged open.
With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day
No, I can't resist the day
It was the guy who had smiled and greeted Harry warmly when Pansy had introduced them. He guessed his name was Theo, yes Theo. Theo something. The guy grinned at Draco, who frowned confusedly. "Draco Lucius Malfoy! I need your bed!"
"What?" Draco jumped out his bed.
"Tracey Davis is coming!"
Draco's frown disappeared completely. "And you want to sacrifice my bed, that is? Just so she can share a room with Blaise? So they can flirt more privately?"
"Of course!" he said cheerfully. Harry wondered if the guy had eaten too much sugar. Maybe that was what he had gotten after playing that bloody Spin the Bottle game. For the first time since he barged into Harry and Draco's room, Theo looked at Harry. His eyes twinkled in something Harry couldn't interpret. "You two can share quite nicely, Draco. Harry's bed is huge, and you two are lanky enough."
With that, he shooed Draco out his bed and pushed the bed out the room rather easily. Harry realized for the first time, that Draco's bed had wheels, like a hospital one. Draco himself grumbled on the floor. "For God's sake! What's going on inside his head, he better knock it out his system."
He rose, and Harry stared at him. Really looked, this time. His eyes were grey, Harry's favourite colour. Beautiful. He was too busy drowning in those grey pools he didn't realize that Draco had caught him staring. "So, Harry... may I?"
Harry hurriedly scooted until his back was collided to the wall. He didn't want to touch the blond. Draco knew he was a whore, and Harry knew his own place. He wasn't allowed to give a contact unless the other was willing to pay for it. He looked down, his fingers playing at the sheets.
Draco tilted his head at him, but didn't say anything. "You're getting a cold if you flatten yourself against the wall like that," he said eventually. "Besides, the blanket is not that large. Come here."
Harry slowly obliged. It was the first time he was given warmth in his sleep. The Funhouse never gave him any, much to his dismay. Draco put the blanket on his body until it covered his neck. Harry was grateful. After that, Draco burrowed himself below the blanket as well.
"My mother will kill me if she knows I like to read while lying down." Draco looked at Harry and smiled friendly, his hand holding the same book. He seemed oblivious of their close proximity. "But she's not here right now, and I'm free."
Harry couldn't resist that smile, that beautiful look that whispered to him that he was Draco's... friend. It was a novelty to him; having a friend, and not a client. No, he couldn't have that privilege. He suddenly cupped Draco's face and closed the gap between their lips.
He can't be my friend.
Harry kissed him again, a bit forcefully this time. He can't be my friend, because nobody wants to.
Suddenly Draco's hand pushed him away, smiling slightly. His book lied on his body, completely forgotten. "Hey, what makes?"
Harry didn't answer. Draco pulled him again into a kiss, which Harry surrendered completely. Neither could resist each other's beautiful eyes. It led them into another steamy moment on the bed. Draco was gentle, not like Harry's clients, and Harry almost cried because of it.
Because he had made his first mistake.
Jenny screams out and it's no pose
'Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Harry had nightmares. Draco was a light sleeper, and was awakened when he realized that Harry was screaming. At first he thought it was his own imagination, but then he realized it wasn't. He never imagined a scream before, not even in his dreams.
He pulled Harry's naked body closer to him, sharing his body heat. It was cold outside the blanket, and the lightning worsened the situation. Harry was trembling, and Draco could do nothing but to hold him though the night.
Then Draco remembered. Harry was a whore, and the blond knew that being one surely had bad memories. But he was great, his traitorous mind told him. He shook his head and pulled Harry tighter into his arms. He looked down and wiped Harry's sweaty brow before planting a kiss on it.
"Ssh..." he soothed.
Suddenly Harry was quiet, much to Draco's relief. The night went much quieter after that, save to the sound of heavy rain out there.
Beer through the nose on an inside joke
And I'm so excited, I haven't spoken
Coming back to The Funhouse was torture for Harry. After staying for two days in the mansion, Draco had promised to see him again. Their lovemaking on the first day was very sweet, not like what Harry had experienced, but he always believed it as his first mistake. As sweet as it was, Draco was nothing more than a client. A free client.
Harry cringed at the voice. But before he had a chance to answer the door, it swung open with a loud bang. Riddle staggered in, his beer-scented breath on Harry's face almost made his skin crawl. "Yes, sir?" he asked carefully.
"Someone wants to see you," he sneered. "Make sure to please him, Potter. That guy looks quite shaggable in that bright red shirt." And then he laughed at his own words, as if pleased of his inside joke. Harry blinked at him, but didn't dare to push the bulky man off his door.
"What are you waiting for?" he shouted. "Make sure you bring more money!"
Harry didn't listen to his ramblings anymore. He ran to the porch, and was speechless when he saw who he was.
Harry was so excited he only gaped at Draco, who smiled at him. The blond stood and patted his back as if Harry was his old friend. "I told you I want to see you, and I do. I want to ask Pansy out too, but she's kind of... occupied." His face twisted at the word occupied. "Well, Harry, do you mind?"
Harry was still speechless.
And she's so pretty, and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
"This is Earth calling Moon Rocket, are you receiving me? Earth calling Moon Rocket, are you receiving me?"
"You like radio dramas, Draco?"
Draco grinned. "You know this too?"
Harry shrugged next to him. "Mrs. Figg sometimes listened to it. She obviously loved this one."
"And this Figg is...?"
"My ex-neighbour," Harry said simply. As he drove, Draco realized that he knew so little about this intriguing young man who sat next to him. This guy is mysterious, and Draco wondered if he could befriend him. Or maybe more than just friends.
"Hey, Harry, do you mind playing a little game?"
"I'll ask you a question, and you'll ask me one."
Harry suddenly stiffened, but quietly answered, "Alright then. What do you want to know?"
"Wait." Draco stopped the car in front of a small cafe. "We're here." He jumped out the car, Harry followed suit. They walked into the cafe and he looked back at Harry as they occupied the nearest seat. "This is my favourite place. Evening, Ginny," he greeted the redhead waitress. "As usual, if you please."
"Coming, Draco," Ginny said before glancing at Harry. She smiled warmly, and Draco had to hide his astonishment from the small but obvious shudder from the raven-haired man. "And this is...?"
"Harry, Harry Potter."
"What would you like to order?" she asked. Draco stared at his messy mop of hair as he looked at the menu. Finally he looked up and told her what he liked to have. Draco almost bit his lip when he realized his new friend only ordered cheapest foods in the cafe.
"You can eat everything, you know. I don't mind."
"You don't, but I do." Harry said quietly, blush colouring his cheeks. Draco found it adorable, almost as adorable as the one he had seen in their first lovemaking in Astoria's house.
Draco sighed. "I haven't asked you a question. What's your favourite colour?"
Harry laughed, and obviously was more relaxed. "I love grey and red. Yours?"
"Pansy always says I have weakness of emerald eyes."
Harry frowned and blinked. "Like mine?"
Draco took his hand. I'm obviously flirting to my new friend, but I don't care. "Yes, like yours."
If possible, Harry's blush intensified. He looked down as if ashamed. "Next question?" Harry asked and looked up. At Draco's nod he said, "Why?"
"Why do you like my eyes?"
"My father had this photo," Draco said. "A portrait of a beautiful woman, which wasn't my mother. When I was a kid, he put that on his table, and let's say I fell in love with her eyes."
Harry nodded understandingly. Silence covered them as Draco looked for more questions.
"Where do you come from?" he suddenly asked.
Harry's head snapped back, obviously surprised. Draco regretted his question at once. What the hell I've done?He was greeted by silence, and he swore he could see gears spinning in Harry's mind.
"You don't need to know," he finally answered, his face pale and tone stiff. "I came to the Funhouse, and that's that. Excuse me, I have to go."
Draco was grateful Harry didn't rush out the cafe, merely to the loo. When Draco arrived in the loo, he was surprised to see Harry's head hanging down as he cried. His hands were gripping the sink, and tears streaming down his cheeks. Draco's heart broke. He hastily made his way to behind the smaller man and hugged him from behind.
Harry almost jumped in shock, but Draco didn't loosen his hug. "I really like you, Harry. Forgive me?"
Harry turned so he was facing Draco, and he kissed him with all his might. Draco kissed him back. He's so beautiful, even more than the woman in Father's photo.Draco was sure of this, and he knew Harry was too.
Suddenly Harry pulled away and smiled tearfully. "It's not your turn to ask questions, Draco."
Draco laughed as they made their way back to the cafe. They were sure of what was coming next. Both of them were sure of what fate had destined them.
Summer's all in bloom
Summer's ending soon
Harry was lucky Riddle didn't kill him for not bringing any money for him after their second lovemaking. Why Harry called it 'lovemaking', he couldn't be sure. In fact, the pimp didn't even seem to remember Draco's arrival. Harry didn't understand why he seemed so lucky after he met Draco. And surely he didn't understand why butterflies in his stomach made a scene every time he thought about the blond young man.
Pansy seemed to notice, but she didn't say anything. Harry almost cornered her after he came back from another harsh sexual encounter with his client, but he realized that it would be useless. Draco surely saw him as a free whore who didn't have any guts to ask for payment from him. The asking game, the warm hug, the kisses... they were good only because Harry hoped Draco to make it good for him. All was no more than an illusion, a hallucination for Harry, because he was desperate; he was looking for something good in his life.
Harry massaged his head. This was getting difficult for him. He looked out the small window, and realized that summer was going to an end. The summer warmth he had within him started to freeze. Should he run away from this place?
"...he is smitten, head over heels for you. You better come here before he dies in heartache." Harry could hear Pansy's silky voice from the thin wall which separated them. He didn't know she was allowed to have a cellphone in her room, but she apparently was the lucky one. And who is she talking to?
"You're coming? Good. I'll make sure he won't go anywhere."
Harry shook his head. Why should he be nosy? He had no business to Pansy and someone she was talking to. He lied down on his battered bed and closed his eyes, thinking of should he ran away from this place or not. He wanted to leave everything behind, but he was afraid.
He didn't realize that he was sleeping until a familiar sound woke him up. This music...
"The Adventures of Tintin, by Herge. Dramatized by..."
"Draco?" he asked as he sat up, surprised.
The blond laughed as he turned the small radio's volume down. He tilted his head; the goofy smile was still there, capturing Harry's heart like it used to. "About bloody time you wake up, Harry," he said in a joking tone, as if he was accusing Harry for wake up late.
"What are you doing here?" Harry whispered. He couldn't believe Draco would have guts to be here, in his room in The Funhouse above all places. Many people had come into this room, demanding for his service, and Harry had tried so hard not to think of Draco in here, kissing him, caressing him, entering him...
"Let's say someone makes me," Draco suddenly said, pouting jokingly at the wall, at Pansy's room.
Harry couldn't help but to laugh when he realized what had happened.
It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on your secrets in white houses
"Why do you come here?"
Draco caressed Harry's face gently. They were lying on Harry's battered bed, and Draco wondered why Pansy liked to whoring herself in this atrocious place above all else. They were listening to some radio dramatization, The Three Musketeers that Draco had recorded for them.
"I like you, remember? And I think it's nice not to be so alone in nights like these, isn't it?"
Harry merely kissed him, eyes closed.
"You like me?" he whispered. "I think..."
"Hey, look at me."
Draco frowned at Harry's broken look. Sometimes he acted so much like a broken toy. Draco suspected he had faced a harsh client (that made Draco cringe) before Draco met him. "Listen, I genuinely like you, not for what you are doing for living, but for you. Come here, please."
Harry buried his face in Draco's chest, letting Draco folded him into an embrace. All too sudden, he snapped himself away from the hug. "I'm not free, you know," he said boldly, although Draco could hear his tone wavering a bit.
Draco's words died in his mouth when the door banged open and a bulky man walked in. Harry automatically leapt out his bed, Draco followed suit. He realized that the beautiful emerald-eyed man was trembling.
"I'm not renting you to cuddle!" the man shrieked. "And turn off that fucking radio!"
Harry hurriedly obeyed, but Draco was still glaring at the man. Nobody can use that tone to someone beloved to a Malfoy! He hastily approached the man, his eyebrows lifted so high they were hidden behind his blond fringes. "That's mine," he sneered, pointing at the radio. "You can't tell me to turn the 'fucking radio' off."
The man finally looked at him. "You don't seem to like Potter's service, then," he said. "People who come here are for fucking, not cuddling and listening to a damned radio!"
In a flash, Draco's index finger had pointed to the man's nose. "I'm a client, Sir, and as one, I'll do what I want."
The man looked away from Draco, and his glare settled at Harry. "He came here days ago," he exclaimed, making his way toward Harry, who cowered. "And I remember I told you something. I told you to bring me his money."
Draco suddenly gripped the man's collar and looked for something in his pocket. He could see his (and Harry's) eyes widened when they knew what it was. "Here's for you," he hissed dangerously. "And don't you dare to harm him, because I'll find out."
The man looked at the money in his hands. At Draco's harsh glare, he scowled and walked away, banged the door closed. Draco looked back at Harry, who had a deep frown on his face. "This won't change our friendship. I won't say anything about this anymore; this will be a secret in this house. You're not free, Harry," he approached the raven and kissed him deeply. "You will never be free, because you're priceless. No money in this world can afford you."
Harry only stared at him with wide, glassy eyes. "Draco..." he called.
"If you need anything at all, Harry, come to me. Or at least tell Pansy. I'm sorry, but I need a time to think. I'll see you later."
With that, Draco made his way out.
Maybe I'm a bit over my head
I come undone at things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
"You seem to enjoy his company, Potter," Pansy said, her fingers playing with her cigarette.
Harry sat on his bed. "I like him, Pansy."
"I'm sure he likes you too," she said, her arrogance gone with the wind.
"I don't know. I think I'm a bit over my head. He says he likes me, maybe I want him to like me, so I set my mind to like him." He groaned. "Hell, why is this so difficult?"
"I think everybody will be over their heads if that comes to Draco," Pansy sat next to him, taking a drag of her cigarette. She smelled of sex, and Harry silently held his breath. He despised that smell with a passion. "He's my best friend, Potter, and I've never seen him this happy. He likes you, you little moron."
"Oh hell, stubborn head you have in there," she threw her hands up. "I've never seen that ugly grin he gives you, and some of silly jokes he makes, and when you laugh with him. I've been his friend since we were born, Potter, and I know his every move, just like he knows mine."
"You're still in denial, you moron. This is not getting us anywhere." Pansy scowled. "I'm going to bed. If you have regained your common sense, you can let me know."
She rushed away, and Harry's mind played their words.
Hey, Harry, have you heard a joke about supper?
Pansy always says I have a weakness to emerald eyes.
You're not free, Harry, because you're priceless. No money in this world can afford you.
I think everybody will be over their heads if that comes to Draco.
He's my best friend, Potter, and I've never seen him this happy. He likes you, you little moron.
He buried his head on his pillow, slowly came undone of what they said.
We were all in love and we all got hurt
A month later...
"I'm in love with someone."
Both Lucius and Narcissa were taken aback with their son's blunt confession. He had visited the Manor today in his usual visit. They were having a lunch together, and suddenly Draco came up with this.
"Who is she?" Lucius asked.
Narcissa nudged her husband before Draco had a chance to answer that it wasn't a she. Lucius would never understand. "Who's the lucky man, darling?" she asked.
Draco smiled gratefully at her. "I've been spending time with him for weeks. He's wonderful. Name's Harry."
"Do you mind taking him here for dinner someday?" Narcissa asked. With a glare to Lucius, she said, "We would love to see him."
"I'll ask him." Draco was grateful of his mother's acceptance. His father was harder, but Draco knew he loved his son, and would come around eventually.
"What's his name, you say?" Lucius asked quietly.
Draco frowned at the older blond. "Harry. Harry Potter."
"Potter?" Lucius suddenly exclaimed.
"Lily's son?" Narcissa asked disbelievingly. "Draco, you're in love with Lily Potter's son?"
Before he could answer, Lucius suddenly stood and walked out the dining room, leaving Draco and his mother. Draco looked back at his mother, dumbfounded. "Mother, what makes?"
Narcissa bit her lip. "Remember the woman with emerald eyes?"
Draco hastily nodded.
"It was Lily Potter, Harry's mother, if we're right. She was your father's ex, and he planned to marry her when he found out that she had engaged with James Potter. Well, that broke him down, darling."
Draco simply stared at her.
"I told him to put that photo away before you had a chance to see it. I don't want him to remember. He was in love and he was hurt. Lily once came here, bringing a baby Harry with her, and asked for an apology. That didn't end well. I realized that she too, was hurt, but it was all too late." Narcissa stopped and stared outside. "I'm afraid, Draco."
"What is, Mother?"
"I'm afraid your father won't approve of you and Harry. He was hurt, and I doubt he will ever heal. He loved her too much to forget. Draco, I'll do my best to make him know Harry isn't Lily, but I hope you'll understand if he goes harder to both of you."
"But, Mother, does he…?"
"Loves me? Of course he does, darling. He loves both of us, it's obvious. But it was different, Draco. He loved me like a best friend, like you love Pansy and Astoria. I doubt after all this time his love to Lily Evans-Potter will change."
Narcissa pulled her son into a hug. "You're my only son, Draco. If you're sure with Harry, you go for him. Go get him, my Dragon."
I sneak into his car's cracked leather seat
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
Boy, we're going too fast
It's all too sweet to last
And I put myself in his hands
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
Harry stared outside the car window. The buildings were straining his eyes. Draco was humming the song from Phantom of the Opera, the radio drama which had ended half an hour ago. They were out again, and this time Draco seemed too chipper, very unusual. He had been very happy every time they were together, but not like this.
Harry's eyes almost jumped out their sockets when Draco had asked him out. They were dating now, and Draco was more than wonderful. Riddle didn't know, of course, and it pained Harry every time he sneaked out his room to see Draco shoving some money to his pimp.
Draco didn't say why he was so happy in their dinner (in an expensive place, mind you) time together, and Harry had given up guessing. "Draco?"
"Hm?" he hummed. Harry was more confused. He never hummed like that before!
"What makes you so happy?"
"Nothing," he answered, still focusing at the street. "Maybe for seeing you look so edible tonight."
Harry reddened. "These are the best clothes I have," he lied. Actually Pansy had something to do with his decent appearance. She had done more than just dragging him into every store visible, forcing him to try this and that, and finally ended up with this well-tailored shirt and dark trousers. Despite of Pansy best efforts to make him look more like a businessman than a... whore, Harry felt Draco looked much better in that emerald shirt.
"You always look great even when you're wearing a trash bag."
If possible, Harry's flush intensified. "I'll take it as a compliment."
Draco laughed lightly and stopped his car in front of The Funhouse. The white house glowed even in the darkness of the night. "We're here," he said. Harry was surprised to see his slight grin, not a dark expression he used to see every time he took Harry back.
Harry walked into the house only for to be shoved out once again. Riddle glowered in front of him, and the rest became a blur. What Harry had remembered was "Contract terminated, go away. Someone pays me quite dearly, and I don't need you anymore. Yes, you and that Parkinson bitch."
His small bag rested next to him when he sat on the sidewalk, gloom covered his mood. He didn't hear a car door closed near him, nor sounds of footsteps coming near him.
"Finally contract terminated, Harry?"
Harry looked up at Draco, whose eyes bright and hair tousled from the wind. He was dumbfounded for a while before realized what was happening. "You... it was you. You bought my contract."
"You're free now," Draco said and grinned. Harry jumped to kiss him, his heart swelled in thankfulness. He pulled the blond toward his car which, he realized, didn't even left its spot since Draco took him back to The Funhouse. Harry opened the back door and lied on the cracked leather backseat. He smelled the familiar smell of gasoline. "Take me, Draco?"
"What? Here? Are you sure?"
Harry stared at him, and for the first time, his lips curled into a genuine smile, filled with desire. "It's alright."
And Draco did.
Love, or something ignites in my veins
And I pray it never fades
In white houses
When Draco took him for the first time, it happened to be on a bed in Greengrass' Mansion. The second took place in a small inn near Draco's favourite cafe, and the third was on Draco's backseat. Harry had been his aggressor, but both didn't mind. The last one was on Draco's bedroom, and on white, clean cottons. Harry did cry, because he had repeated his mistake.
He was in love with someone who could pay him.
As much as Harry knew that Draco didn't need to pay him anymore, he still couldn't let go of his dark past. He looked around Draco's flat from his seat on his bed. It was white, much like The Funhouse. But it wasn't a white that made Harry felt lonely. It wasn't glaring white, it had a tint of brown and Harry loved it.
Harry snapped his head to the source of voice and smiled when he saw Draco walking into the bedroom. "You're early."
"Pansy didn't let me sleep," he yawned and shrugged. Pansy had been so enraged when she realized Draco had ended her contract as well. The two friends had spent their time quarreling via the phone, which at first Harry thought he imagined it.
"What did she say?"
"She told me she didn't need charity. Snotty little bitch." His joking tone, however, belied the hurtful words. "She needs help. I don't want to see people I love nesting in such a repulsive place."
"Love?" Harry almost jumped out the bed.
Draco suddenly took Harry's hands and kissed them. "Have I told you before that I love you? I love you, Harry Potter, and I promise I won't give up on you."
Harry blinked tears out his eyes when something sparked in his veins. He was sure it was indeed the same thing Draco had told him.
Sounds beautiful, eh?
My first time, hard to explain
Rush of blood, oh, and a little bit of pain
On a cloudy day, it's more common than you think
Six months later…
"Harry! Harry, wake up!"
It was like their first night all over again. There was a storm outside, and Harry was thrashing on the bed. On their bed, to be precise. Draco pulled him into his arms and patted his head. "Care to enlighten me?"
It was unusual for his lover having a nightmare, after months didn't have any. Draco frowned and if possible hugged him tighter. At first he thought Harry wouldn't tell him, but after an uncomfortable, long pause, he whispered, "Today was my first night. I dreamed of it."
Draco recoiled. "Harry…"
"No, I want to," the raven said firmly, looking up into Draco's grey pools. "I want to. At least let me get this out my system, yeah?"
Draco merely nodded.
Harry's fingers played with the sheets, he didn't even look at Draco as he stammered out the words. "It had been so… drab. I didn't even remember his name. Riddle made sure he didn't scare me away, his new property. I remember seeing out the window. It was cloudy, more common than you think. It was a bit painful, and what I remember was the rush of blood. It was hard to explain, really."
Draco was silent until he felt fingers caressing his cheek. The lightning struck, making his face flashed suddenly.
"Thank you, Draco Malfoy."
He's my first mistake
She looks back at him, a deep frown plasters on her face. She keeps silent, she knows he still has something to talk about.
"So, that," he says. "The answer you always want to know. He was my first love, and I was in love with someone unreachable, at first, which makes him my first mistake and achievement. What else do you want to know?"
She is surprised, she admits to herself. She has never seen this side of his; a fierce one. But she doesn't fail to notice the faint blush on his cheeks and knows that he is glad to share his secret to her, his choreographer.
After some silence, he stares again at her, his face darkens even more. "The next year, that disaster happened."
Maybe you were all faster than me
We gave each other up so easily
A year later...
Harry didn't remember anything but the sounds of the nurses around him as they pushed Draco's bed into one of the rooms.
"He's going to be operated," Pansy whispered blankly, and that was the time Harry realized what room Draco had been shoved into. "He's going to be operated. The car crash has hit him hard."
"Has somebody told his parents?" Blaise asked quietly from the plastic chair he was sitting on. Harry looked at him, frowning unknowingly. But Pansy shook her head next to him.
"Tracey has tried to contact them, but apparently they're taking another holiday. But Theo, Vince, and Astoria will come," she said sullenly. "Oh, Harry!" she suddenly buried her head on Harry's chest. "Today is his birthday, you know that, right?"
Of course he knew. Harry released her and Tracey Davis hugged her instead. He paced back and forth for hours, almost didn't acknowledge Astoria, Theo, and Vince's arrival. He heard an unknown female voice and suddenly realized that Theo was gone.
He stopped pacing and saw Theo, who had come out from the operation room. His usual happy face was covered with sadness. "Theo," he greeted tightly.
"Please sit down. I have to tell you something."
Harry obliged. Theo looked around, making sure they were alone. "The doctor has told me something… important. He said that Draco's possibility to stay alive is only twenty percent. And he's still getting worse."
"He's… he's going to die?" Pansy shrieked.
"Afraid so," Theo shook his head.
Astoria swore in French, and that was followed by the others' chatter. Harry could hear one of the girls began to cry. He didn't know who she was, though, as his mind began to play some scenes between him and his lover. A grinning Draco, the one who had pulled him out his ashes, the one who wouldn't give up on him...
He was lost between them, until he heard something that angered him.
"Why are you giving up on him so easily?" he suddenly exclaimed. He pointed at the rather fat man who sat next to Blaise. Crabbe or something. "You said that he'll die any moment! Why don't you have any faith on him?"
"But Harry," Theo interjected. "He has lost his legs, and some of his bones are injured badly. We don't mean to..."
"And you call yourselves his friends?" Harry snapped, almost knocking his glasses to the ground. Pansy and Tracey slumped on their seats. "He's dying in there, and all you do here is hoping him to die soon? You know, he promised not to give up on people he loved, and I think you should do the same!"
Silence. Harry couldn't stand that anymore. He bit his lip and ran away from them, tears blurring his vision. He stopped on the small balcony, a bit far from the waiting room. Words started to spin in his head.
I promise I won't give up on you.
You'll never be free, because you're priceless, Harry.
I love you, Harry.
Draco's going to die any moment.
The car crash has hit him hard.
But, Harry, he has lost his legs, and some of his bones are injured badly.
It felt like hours. It was indeed hours he cried in there. His glasses fogged, but he didn't bother to clean it. The wind started to freeze his bones, but he didn't bother to come back to the waiting room and took his coat. His first love, above all people, would die!
"You've been here for hours, Potter."
Harry snapped his head and saw a brunette, but it wasn't short haired like Pansy. Astoria Greengrass walked toward him, her face blank. She hugged herself, her long nails stabbed on her arms. She stared at the night as she spoke.
"Theo and I are staying with you. Pansy, Vince, and Blaise will go to the Manor and tell his parents."
Harry looked at her, really looked this time. She didn't even look at him. When he last saw her, about a year ago, she was much prettier. Now she looked tired and sad.
"You know what, Potter," Astoria suddenly said, finally looked at him. "When I was still dating Draco, he once said the same. He promised that he wouldn't give up on me."
"Then why did you leave him?" Harry asked bitterly. Draco once told him about her, and sometimes he was still hurt because she had left him for another man, his friend above all people.
"He didn't realize that he was gay at that time," she answered shortly. "I, however, did long before he knew. I felt betrayed, Potter, even when I know it wasn't his fault. I didn't want to shock or hurt him, so I didn't dare to tell him, I wanted him to know by himself. Theo offered me his love, and I thought it was okay."
She shoved her handkerchief to him, and Harry wiped his tears. "Potter... Harry, I'm sorry for our outbursts before," she said glumly. "But we're a bunch of pessimists, and we don't want to lose another one from our circle. Draco... he's our childhood friend and when Theo said he would die... we just can't stand it anymore." She cleared her throat. "Besides, don't mind Vince. He doesn't have any brain in his head since he was born."
Harry didn't know what to say. So he kept silent.
"Harry, remember Spin the Bottle game? The one you and Draco hate?"
"We dared Theo to move Draco's bed because we both wanted him to seduce you. Or vice versa. We wanted, and still do, him to be happy. You know Theo and I were leaving, and we want to make sure he was okay, even with... someone like you." Her tone held a tint of arrogance at her last three words, but Harry didn't care.
"Astoria! Harry!" suddenly came a shout.
Both looked back at an exhausted Crabbe.
"What is it?" Harry asked, colour drained from his face when he saw Crabbe's ashen one.
"Draco..." he panted. "He's stable... he's stable... for now. You can... you can see him."
The silly little wounds will never mend
Harry stayed on Draco's bedside until three days later. He refused to go, even after Theo and Astoria nagged on him. He didn't cry, no he couldn't cry. He had to be strong and tell Draco that he wouldn't give up on him.
The blond had woken up from his comatose state, ironically, when Harry was out buying some food for Theo and himself (the couple had succeeded on making Harry out Draco's room). Astoria had been the one who stayed, and when she had called them to say that Draco was awake, Harry almost fainted.
"Harry," Draco called weakly. "Hello."
"Hi, Draco," Harry said back. He wouldn't ask something stupid like 'how are you?' but it was nagging in his mind. "How are you?"
To his surprise, Draco didn't even frown. "Not quite bad, if you count legless as fine."
"You're still beautiful to me."
"Merci," Draco said and sighed. Harry sat next to him and offered him his French fries. The blond refused, and stared at Harry instead.
"Why are you still here?"
"What?" Harry asked, utterly baffled.
"Why are you still here, accompanying me, the disabled, sad little snot, while you can be out there, chasing guys or girls?"
Harry gaped at him for a while, but as he regained his senses, he launched himself to Draco. "You said yourself that you won't give up on me," he hissed dangerously. "I don't want another guy or girl, I want you and that's that. I swear I won't give up on you as well. You've pulled me out my hellhole. It's my turn to save you. Promise me not to doubt me again?"
Draco merely stared at him, wide-eyed, and that was the first time Harry saw him cry. He circled his trembling arms around Harry's neck and sealed the promise with a deep kiss.
"Thank you, Harry Potter."
Although both knew this accident would leave some scars which would never mend, they at least could lessen it. If their love was strong, they could make it into silly little wounds, which wouldn't hurt so much in their future.
I feel so far from where I've been
Two weeks later...
Tomorrow would be Draco's last day in the hospital. He would use wheelchair for months, waiting for his artificial legs in process. He was much stronger now. Astoria and Theo had gone back to France, trusting their friend in his lover's care. Pansy, Blaise, and Crabbe usually came too; showering Draco with babbles about what was happening outside his room.
Harry had met Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy earlier that morning, and wondered why sometimes Draco's father stared at him like he reminded him to someone else. Narcissa was a kind of mother Harry yearned to have. She was loving and really acceptable for their relationship. She personally had said her thankfulness for taking care of her son and had hugged him. As he cherished his first motherly hug, Harry had wondered if she knew her son's lover's past. If she did, Harry was sure she wouldn't dare to touch him.
"Harry, is your mother Lily Potter?" Draco asked. At that time he realized that Harry had never mentioned his own childhood. Draco had tried, of course, but since Harry kept closing himself, Draco had to restrain himself to ask.
Harry shrugged. "Died when I was an infant. Know nothing about her. Why? Is she important?"
Draco bit his lip. And when he braved himself to open his mouth, all came out. He told Harry everything about his father and Lily Potter. Told him she was the beautiful woman that made Draco fell in love with Harry's eyes.
"And then my parents died. They said there was a car crash."
"Who are 'they', Harry?"
Harry put his head on Draco's pillow, near the blond's ear. He didn't answer directly. "When Pansy called me and said you were in the hospital, because of car crash, I was so afraid you would die. I've lost my parents, and I just... it's silly, Draco, but I was afraid I lost you too."
"I'm here, Harry."
"I know. 'They', you asked?" Harry tilted his head, as if he didn't hear Draco's earlier question. "My uncle, my aunt, and my whale of a cousin. The Dursleys. I owed them and they gave me to Riddle."
Draco's eyes widened. "What?"
"Uncle Vernon kept saying I owed his family, and that was the only thing I could do to pay it. I had a debt since I was a kid, and he made sure I knew by reminding me every day. So when Riddle took me away from them, I realized that I have no debt to anyone anymore."
Draco's hand found Harry's and stroked slightly.
"I feel so far from where I've been. It feels like ages since I gave a... service to someone. It was strange and wonderful at the same time."
"Harry, you..." Draco tried to interrupt, but Harry shook his head.
"I want to spend my time with you, despite of our shitty insecurities. I won't go anywhere, and I know you won't do that as well." Harry paused. "I love you, Draco Lucius Malfoy."
It took some time for Draco to realize that it was the first time Harry said it.
So I go, and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses
The next day...
"Captain! What are you doing on the chandelier?"
Draco smiled slightly at Tintin's obvious (and kind of stupid) question. He loved The Calculus Affair radio drama, since it was the funniest. He looked at his side and saw Harry who was driving the car. It was strange to see Harry driving. He wasn't a bad driver, but seeing him there, gripping the steering wheel instead of Draco doing it, it was weird.
There was a piece of green paper behind Harry's seat, which Draco took. It was a brochure. Harry had taken him to a theatre class and told him he had registered and he would play for Draco. In one of their nights together, Draco had told him his childhood dream. He wanted to play in a drama so they could record it. Silly, but apparently Harry took it seriously. Draco couldn't be happier.
Suddenly the car stopped, snapping Draco out his musings. "Are we...?" he asked, but was silent when he knew where they were.
Harry was staring at The Funhouse. The White House, which wasn't so white anymore. The white paints started to peel off, showing the dark walls behind them. A window broke and several cracked. The small garden was shabbier than ever. Draco followed his lover, staring at the white house.
Harry muttered something resembled to, "I'll go, and I won't go back here again."
Draco cleared his throat. "You want to move out?"
Harry snapped his head at Draco as if he had never seen him before. "No, no, of course not. I mean... I don't want to see this place anymore." Suddenly he jumped out the car, leaving a dumfounded Draco.
Draco frowned when he saw the scene in front of him. Harry approached a girl, apparently another prostitute, and gave her some money from his wallet. She smiled tearfully and hugged him. She didn't come back to The Funhouse, she walked across the street instead. Harry was smiling as he went back to the car.
"What was that?" Draco asked.
"I told her to run. I gave her some money to support herself for awhile. Draco, I want to help them. I want them to go away, to go back and not coming back to that hell anymore."
Draco smiled warmly at him before pulled him for a kiss. "I'm more than happy to help you."
Harry grinned. "Sounds perfect to me."
And you know what? It did.
I lied, wrote my injuries all in the dust
In my heart is the five of us
In white houses
She stares at him. "Be ready. After Luna's off the stage, it's your turn."
"I know, Hermione."
She merely pats his back. She stares at the Grand Piano next to her, which will be pushed to the stage when the curtains are closed. "Is he coming, Harry?"
"He's on therapy today, but he promised," he answered. She nods before staring at the music sheet on her hands. She hates to admit this, but she is anxious. This is their first show in which Harry will be a solo dancer. He will be the one who expresses the agony Luna, the main character, has endured of giving her virginity to the boy she dislikes.
Harry and Ron, their director, were the people who made the script. She didn't know why the raven decided to make the stage as a white house, until he told her his entire history.
She looks up, surprised.
The Piano is pushed, and she sits down on the chair, starting to play the notes from Harry's song. The curtains are lifted up, and Harry starts to dance.
When Hermione starts to play, Harry starts to move. At first, he didn't know that he was a natural dancer (or so Hermione told him). At first he thought he would be one of the actors, but Ron changed his mind and met Hermione Granger, his girlfriend and their choreographer.
Harry glances at the front seat every time he has a chance. One, which is located beside a clearly impressed Narcissa Malfoy, is empty. He's not here.
Harry closes his eyes and continues his moves. He can hear Luna's voice singing the lyrics he has made. He is disappointed. Maybe his therapy is taking his time. He let his mind wonder to other matters of his life instead.
And you, maybe you'll remember me
Harry remembers when he and Draco released almost all the prostitutes in The Funhouse. Thank God there was no other Pansy Parkinson in there! There were only boys and girls who needed money so much, not a wealthy bitch who liked to whore herself. Riddle never knew, and Harry doubted he will. The Funhouse became a deserted house afterwards, occupied only by a small group of whores.
Harry didn't say anything when Draco showed him a newspaper, telling him that Riddle had been killed several months after Draco 'bought' Luna (she was from the same place Harry had been). He merely sighed and said, "Maybe you'll remember me, but I won't. I want to move on."
The sky he has stared at showed him his clients' faces. Harry has broken down crying, and let Draco hugged him. He listened as Harry told him about his earlier clients, how rough they were, how thankful Harry was afterwards. Both knew Harry wanted to forget, and if this was the only way, so be it.
Harry is deaf of all sounds but Hermione's piano. His mind is clouded by the inspiration of the song itself, which are memories of Draco's therapy; his tears every time Harry and Pansy are helping him to walk.
"I can't, Harry, Pansy!" Draco cried from his wheelchair.
"You have to try, Draco. You're my friend, and I don't want to befriend a sissy." Pansy said haughtily.
"Draco, please? Just a step?"
"I can't do that! You saw by yourself I failed before! What do you want? Humiliate me?" Tears of frustration began to stream down Draco's cheeks. He moved his artificial legs slightly and groaned.
Harry blinks, and the memory changes. This happened yesterday, a day before this show.
"I'm afraid, Draco."
"You wake me up in the middle of the night just to say that?"
"No. I mean, tomorrow is..."
"...your first time dancing alone? Don't worry, you won't screw up unless Granger plays a fucked-up song."
Harry forced a smile. "Will you come?"
Draco caressed Harry's cheek and kissed him. "I promise. I hope I won't be late after my therapy."
Silence. "Draco, I wish you can walk."
Draco's face darkened. "Sadly, Harry, I usually don't have any faith in miracles."
"It's almost a year, Draco!"
Draco sighed. "You're not the one wearing artificial legs, you don't know how this feels. You're not the only one who wants me to get some normalcy." He pulled Harry into a hug.
"If you don't give up on me, you shouldn't give up on yourself."
Draco snapped his head back, obviously surprised. Silence filled the room before the blond said, "Harry, I promise you... I'll try my best for you."
Harry blinks again and the stage comes into his vision. He bows down and jumps and spins and dances and stares at the empty seat in front of him. His face twists, his heart hurts. Before Harry can react, the curtains have fallen down and Harry feels Hermione's hands pulling him out the stage.
What I gave is yours to keep
Harry drinks greedily. He's thirsty, and tired, so of course he deserves a huge bottle of water for himself. Hermione laughs next to him. "Great job, Harry. Ron loves it so much."
Harry forces a smile. "He doesn't come."
Hermione frowns. "I'm sorry, Harry."
The other actors and actresses walk into the backstage, chattering and obviously happy. Ron gives Harry a hug, expressing his happiness of the successful show.
"Harry Potter! Harry Potter!" suddenly comes a voice.
"Someone's looking for you outside that door," Neville points at one of the doors.
Harry mutters a 'thanks' before walks into the door. Before he has a chance to come near the door, it opens. There is Draco, sitting on the wheelchair, a small smile on his face. Harry intends to run and... and is torn between hug the blond or shout at him, but Draco's voice stops him.
"Wait there, Harry."
Harry stares at him, utterly gobsmacked. He immediately knows what's going to happen. This, this can't be...
Draco blinks several times before propping himself on the chair's sides. He slowly stands and does something Harry always dream about.
"Oof!" Draco stumbles a bit, and it's obvious that his artificial legs are trembling, but Harry can't even move to help him. He is too fascinated on the blond man in front of him. Their distance isn't that far, but Draco is walking so slowly it feels like ages.
Finally when Draco is standing in front of him, Harry feels like a dam bursting within himself. His arms circles Draco's neck in an instant as he pulls the taller man into a hug.
"You... you walk."
"If that counts as walking and not stumbling here and... oof!" Draco's words die in his mouth as Harry kissed him.
"You did that for me?" Harry asks shakily.
"That's what makes me late for the show," Draco says. "But I watched your dance. I told you, you won't screw up and you didn't. And by the way, I have to do something."
With that, the blond falls onto his knees and pulls out something from his pocket, a small red velvet box. As he opens it to an astonished Harry, he says, "My heart is yours to keep, Harry. So... marry me?"
Harry is also on his knees in an instant, hugging him with all his might. "I've given you my heart to keep, Draco. I love you so much, so yes. God, yes!"
As they cherish their time together, neither realizes what the other actors and actresses are singing.
In white houses
In white houses
In white houses