Harry Potter - Worth a Thousand - PG13
The bar
smelled like piss, old beer, and sweat and Harry couldn’t wait to leave. It
was nearly three in the morning and this was the fifth bar that night; there was
still no sign of Draco anywhere. One of his old housemates suggested Harry try
the Old Broom, an ancient pub that had gained notoriety for its abundance of
criminals and psychopaths, so Harry found himself stepping over fallen drunks
and piles of vomit looking for Draco’s blond mop of hair.
Draco had played a large part in Voldemort’s downfall; he’d seen to it that Harry and the Order were aware of every one of Voldemort’s actions. It wasn’t a matter of switching sides, Draco hadn’t suddenly decided to ‘be good’, but instead a need for protection for his mother. Draco agreed to serve as a spy as long as Narcissa was hidden and protected from Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy had been murdered just weeks before and Draco “couldn’t help but remember Dumbledore’s dying wish”, as he put it. It took a lot of convincing from McGonagall and Lupin but finally Harry accepted the agreement and used the Fidelius Charm to hide Narcissa in an old London flat not far from Grimmauld Place, which had been reinstated as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry had struggled for months to understand Draco’s abrupt desire to be helpful but he had finally just given up and accepted that Draco was just Draco; he made no excuses, no apologies, and rarely justified his actions. The two butted heads often but eventually each developed a certain respect for the other. “The fucking came a little later,” Draco would always joke. Neither of them understood what exactly kept them together but neither questioned it either; it had to be a pretty strong force to bring such unlikely people together.
A crowd was gathered near the back of the bar and Harry could see each person yelling something similar and waving a hand in the air. A certain tugging feeling in his stomach told Harry that Draco would probably be in the middle of the crowd. He reached the crowd and sure enough, Draco was sitting cross-legged on top of the scarred tabletop in the middle of the melee.
Draco raised a hand in the air and the crowd ceased its roar. Looking around, he declared, “I said it’d cost one of you a pretty sum to shag me and none of you has gone high enough. What is it, am I not pretty enough? C’mon, you bastards can do better than a couple of Galleons!”
The men immediately started raising their bids as Harry tried to keep himself from having a massive coronary. He could tell Draco was drunk and so were half the men gathered around the table. Draco was humming to himself quietly as he looked around the men, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused.
Rubbing at his temple, Harry yelled, “I’ll give you 1000 Galleons to get the fuck off the table and come home with me!”
It took Draco a couple of seconds to register where the voice but when noticed who was speaking he smiled and said, “SOLD! To the hot man with the awful glasses!”
Harry pulled Draco off the table and dragged him out of the bar and into the deserted alley outside. He let go of Draco’s arm and started pacing back and forth in front of the drunk blond. He let out a long, exasperated sigh and asked, “What the FUCK where you doing in there? Actually, don’t answer that, I know what the hell I saw. Are you fucking INSANE?”
“Relax, I wasn’t going to do anything. Not with them anyway; there wasn’t a single good-looking guy there!” Draco replied sullenly as he tried to walk away. He tripped on a raised piece of concrete and fell headfirst to the ground.
“Alright, how much Firewhiskey have you had?” Harry asked as he helped Draco stand up properly. Draco had been drinking excessively ever since the death of Narcissa two weeks ago. It wasn’t her death that killed him so much as his inheritance, or lack thereof. According to her will, she had left Draco absolutely penniless because of his ‘crude and shameful choice of company as well as the lewd acts he performed with said company’. All of which meant that, basically, Draco had been denied the vast Malfoy inheritance because not only was he gay, but his choice of ‘company’ was Harry Potter, the wizarding world’s version of Jesus.
“Not nearly enough,” Draco slurred in response, holding back the urge to vomit.
“Which, within normal reasoning, means too much. Why the hell are you doing this? I know what your parents did is total shit but you don’t have to try and drink yourself to death to make up for it, for fuck’s sake!”
“You’re wrong. I deserve a life of destitution, I think. I mean, what sort of respectable, pure-blood wizard is a faggot? This completely ends the Malfoy line, it’s only fair they take something away from me,” Draco shrieked. He untangled himself from Harry’s grasp and stumbled further up the alley. He turned around and spreading his arms in a grand gesture, yelled, “I WAS JUST SOME FUCKING TWINK TO THEM, WHY NOT LIVE UP TO THAT WONDERFUL EXPECTATION?”
There was no way to calm him down when he was like this, Harry knew. Reluctantly, he pulled out his wand and pointing it at Draco, he muttered, “Silencio!” and then “Petrificus Totalus”. He flicked his wand again and levitated Draco towards him and then Disapparated the both of them to Harry’s apartment.
Draco woke up the next morning moaning about how Harry owed him his Galleons and threatening him with bodily harm if he dared to open “those ratty, moth-eaten excuses for curtains”. Harry brought him some Pepper Up potion to help lift his spirits and lay down next to Draco on the bed. As Draco drank down the potion, Harry pulled on a strand of Draco’s platinum blond hair and whispered, “You are the biggest pillock this side of the Atlantic, I wager.”
“Oh, don’t start. I wasn’t going to do anything, I swear. It was fun though, I’ve got to admit. I know I’m awfully attractive and hard to turn down; I’m surprised I only went for a thousand. You still owe me, by the way,” Draco shot back, grimacing at the foul taste of the Pepper Up.
“Idiot.”
“You know you love it, that’s why you bought me. You can’t resist my wonderful sense of humour and my amazingly toned ass!”
“It is a nice ass, I’ll give you that much,” Harry shot back, chuckling at the proud look on Draco’s face. “How’s about I get my thousand Galleons’ worth now?”
END.
Draco had played a large part in Voldemort’s downfall; he’d seen to it that Harry and the Order were aware of every one of Voldemort’s actions. It wasn’t a matter of switching sides, Draco hadn’t suddenly decided to ‘be good’, but instead a need for protection for his mother. Draco agreed to serve as a spy as long as Narcissa was hidden and protected from Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy had been murdered just weeks before and Draco “couldn’t help but remember Dumbledore’s dying wish”, as he put it. It took a lot of convincing from McGonagall and Lupin but finally Harry accepted the agreement and used the Fidelius Charm to hide Narcissa in an old London flat not far from Grimmauld Place, which had been reinstated as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.
Harry had struggled for months to understand Draco’s abrupt desire to be helpful but he had finally just given up and accepted that Draco was just Draco; he made no excuses, no apologies, and rarely justified his actions. The two butted heads often but eventually each developed a certain respect for the other. “The fucking came a little later,” Draco would always joke. Neither of them understood what exactly kept them together but neither questioned it either; it had to be a pretty strong force to bring such unlikely people together.
A crowd was gathered near the back of the bar and Harry could see each person yelling something similar and waving a hand in the air. A certain tugging feeling in his stomach told Harry that Draco would probably be in the middle of the crowd. He reached the crowd and sure enough, Draco was sitting cross-legged on top of the scarred tabletop in the middle of the melee.
Draco raised a hand in the air and the crowd ceased its roar. Looking around, he declared, “I said it’d cost one of you a pretty sum to shag me and none of you has gone high enough. What is it, am I not pretty enough? C’mon, you bastards can do better than a couple of Galleons!”
The men immediately started raising their bids as Harry tried to keep himself from having a massive coronary. He could tell Draco was drunk and so were half the men gathered around the table. Draco was humming to himself quietly as he looked around the men, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused.
Rubbing at his temple, Harry yelled, “I’ll give you 1000 Galleons to get the fuck off the table and come home with me!”
It took Draco a couple of seconds to register where the voice but when noticed who was speaking he smiled and said, “SOLD! To the hot man with the awful glasses!”
Harry pulled Draco off the table and dragged him out of the bar and into the deserted alley outside. He let go of Draco’s arm and started pacing back and forth in front of the drunk blond. He let out a long, exasperated sigh and asked, “What the FUCK where you doing in there? Actually, don’t answer that, I know what the hell I saw. Are you fucking INSANE?”
“Relax, I wasn’t going to do anything. Not with them anyway; there wasn’t a single good-looking guy there!” Draco replied sullenly as he tried to walk away. He tripped on a raised piece of concrete and fell headfirst to the ground.
“Alright, how much Firewhiskey have you had?” Harry asked as he helped Draco stand up properly. Draco had been drinking excessively ever since the death of Narcissa two weeks ago. It wasn’t her death that killed him so much as his inheritance, or lack thereof. According to her will, she had left Draco absolutely penniless because of his ‘crude and shameful choice of company as well as the lewd acts he performed with said company’. All of which meant that, basically, Draco had been denied the vast Malfoy inheritance because not only was he gay, but his choice of ‘company’ was Harry Potter, the wizarding world’s version of Jesus.
“Not nearly enough,” Draco slurred in response, holding back the urge to vomit.
“Which, within normal reasoning, means too much. Why the hell are you doing this? I know what your parents did is total shit but you don’t have to try and drink yourself to death to make up for it, for fuck’s sake!”
“You’re wrong. I deserve a life of destitution, I think. I mean, what sort of respectable, pure-blood wizard is a faggot? This completely ends the Malfoy line, it’s only fair they take something away from me,” Draco shrieked. He untangled himself from Harry’s grasp and stumbled further up the alley. He turned around and spreading his arms in a grand gesture, yelled, “I WAS JUST SOME FUCKING TWINK TO THEM, WHY NOT LIVE UP TO THAT WONDERFUL EXPECTATION?”
There was no way to calm him down when he was like this, Harry knew. Reluctantly, he pulled out his wand and pointing it at Draco, he muttered, “Silencio!” and then “Petrificus Totalus”. He flicked his wand again and levitated Draco towards him and then Disapparated the both of them to Harry’s apartment.
Draco woke up the next morning moaning about how Harry owed him his Galleons and threatening him with bodily harm if he dared to open “those ratty, moth-eaten excuses for curtains”. Harry brought him some Pepper Up potion to help lift his spirits and lay down next to Draco on the bed. As Draco drank down the potion, Harry pulled on a strand of Draco’s platinum blond hair and whispered, “You are the biggest pillock this side of the Atlantic, I wager.”
“Oh, don’t start. I wasn’t going to do anything, I swear. It was fun though, I’ve got to admit. I know I’m awfully attractive and hard to turn down; I’m surprised I only went for a thousand. You still owe me, by the way,” Draco shot back, grimacing at the foul taste of the Pepper Up.
“Idiot.”
“You know you love it, that’s why you bought me. You can’t resist my wonderful sense of humour and my amazingly toned ass!”
“It is a nice ass, I’ll give you that much,” Harry shot back, chuckling at the proud look on Draco’s face. “How’s about I get my thousand Galleons’ worth now?”
END.