FIC: Snow [Draco - R]
Author: Anonymous
Title: Snow
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Warnings: No pairing but implied slash, implied prostitution, language, drug use, character death.
Word Count: 927
Prompt: #11 - Draco is a struggling drug addict. Hopelessness. (submitted by tarklovishki)
Notes: Thanks to C. for beta’ing. I’m sorry that all that is left of the prompt is the drug addiction. This is an odd one, but the combination of emo and Christmas just screamed ‘Little Match Girl’ to me. So, this is sort of based on that.
It was a cold night. It had snowed earlier, and the children of London had spent all day building snow men and riding their sleds, wrapped up in thick coats. But now it was getting dark and they were being called home for dinner. As the last rosy cheeked child disappeared, there was no one left wandering the streets but one lone figure.
The boy was skinny and looked younger than his nineteen years. He was not dressed for the cold weather and all he carried with him was a plastic bag which contained all of his belongings. The cold was so piercing that his lips were slowly turning blue, but he forced himself to keep walking. After all, he needed money. He hadn't made any that day or the day before.
Yes, Draco Malfoy had fallen from grace in the worst way possible. He stopped walking for a moment as he watched an older man approach. While he knew that no one needed his services tonight, he needed to try. But as he uttered that word, that shameful word that he couldn't bring himself to care about anymore as his mind was almost as numb as his fingertips, he wasn't able to put his heart into it. "B...blowjob?" His teeth were chattering when he locked eyes with the man. "I swallow. No condom," he added half-heartedly. His eyes were pleading, but he wasn't sure which answer he was silently begging for.
For a moment the man let his gaze linger on Draco, as if briefly considering him. Then his face changed and his expression turned into disgust, as if Draco was the most disgusting human being he had ever seen. "Just go home," he spat, and he was on his way again.
Draco bit his lip to stop the bitter tears from falling. He had no home, not anymore. Not since his father had been locked away in Azkaban, and his mother had taken her own life. He'd fled the Wizarding World, not knowing what he was hoping to find in Muggle London. It certainly hadn't been this.
He turned around and stared after the man, his eyes following him until the tiny dot that he'd become disappeared into a house in the distance. Draco knew his picking wasn't off. He'd gotten pretty good at recognizing the type of guys who had no problem getting their dick sucked by pretty homeless boys while their loving wives cooked their dinners. But even they seemed to want to spend this evening with their families.
Because even though all days were the same to him now, Draco knew exactly what day it was today. It was all too clear as he walked through the streets and saw the families gathered around tables eating their festive dinners, or around the fireplace, unwrapping presents.
Christmas Eve.
Finally, Draco sat down against the wall of a building that seemed to be a pub. He wouldn't dare going inside, for he'd surely be kicked out. But even though the ground was too cold to sit on, it seemed like he could feel a warmth coming through the wall of the pub, if he pressed himself up to it tightly enough.
Still, Draco felt more alone than ever, and he gave in. He started to rummage through his plastic bag, retrieving the items he needed to cook up his fix for the evening. He used an old bottle cap that hadn't been clean in a long time. After months of unsafe sex and dirty needles, he wasn't all that concerned anymore.
He knew that he'd already used too much that day, knew that he'd have to suffer through horrible pain the next morning because he wouldn't have any left, but he needed it so badly right now.
As the needle pierced his vein and Draco injected himself with what had become his only comfort and worst enemy at the same time, he closed his eyes. His limbs were slowly starting to turn blue, but the warmth that he felt was indescribable.
In Draco's mind, he wasn't sitting out in the cold by himself. He was sitting at a beautifully set table in a warm house. Plates of the most delicious food stood in front of him, but those couldn't hold his attention. Because when he looked around the table, he found he was surrounded by friends and family, people he loved and thought he had lost. His father was there, proven innocent. His mother and Severus, alive. His friends from Hogwarts, chatting happily as if the war had never happened.
It was at the same time that a man stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron, almost tripping over Draco, who was lying in the snow with his eyes closed. The needle had rolled out of his hand. "Hey!" He shouted over his shoulder. "There's some muggle kid lying out here!"
Moments later, a second person joined him outside. "That's not a muggle." Draco slowly awoke from his beautiful dream and could hear the voice, distantly so. It sounded gentle, and vaguely familiar. Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and pick him up, carrying him into a warm place.
It was surreal to have a pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around him, and Draco was sure it was just another dream. But for now, he decided to believe it was real. He wanted to believe that this person would save him, care for him. Perhaps even love him. And as Draco felt himself slip away into the darkness, he smiled.
Title: Snow
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy
Rating: R
Warnings: No pairing but implied slash, implied prostitution, language, drug use, character death.
Word Count: 927
Prompt: #11 - Draco is a struggling drug addict. Hopelessness. (submitted by tarklovishki)
Notes: Thanks to C. for beta’ing. I’m sorry that all that is left of the prompt is the drug addiction. This is an odd one, but the combination of emo and Christmas just screamed ‘Little Match Girl’ to me. So, this is sort of based on that.
It was a cold night. It had snowed earlier, and the children of London had spent all day building snow men and riding their sleds, wrapped up in thick coats. But now it was getting dark and they were being called home for dinner. As the last rosy cheeked child disappeared, there was no one left wandering the streets but one lone figure.
The boy was skinny and looked younger than his nineteen years. He was not dressed for the cold weather and all he carried with him was a plastic bag which contained all of his belongings. The cold was so piercing that his lips were slowly turning blue, but he forced himself to keep walking. After all, he needed money. He hadn't made any that day or the day before.
Yes, Draco Malfoy had fallen from grace in the worst way possible. He stopped walking for a moment as he watched an older man approach. While he knew that no one needed his services tonight, he needed to try. But as he uttered that word, that shameful word that he couldn't bring himself to care about anymore as his mind was almost as numb as his fingertips, he wasn't able to put his heart into it. "B...blowjob?" His teeth were chattering when he locked eyes with the man. "I swallow. No condom," he added half-heartedly. His eyes were pleading, but he wasn't sure which answer he was silently begging for.
For a moment the man let his gaze linger on Draco, as if briefly considering him. Then his face changed and his expression turned into disgust, as if Draco was the most disgusting human being he had ever seen. "Just go home," he spat, and he was on his way again.
Draco bit his lip to stop the bitter tears from falling. He had no home, not anymore. Not since his father had been locked away in Azkaban, and his mother had taken her own life. He'd fled the Wizarding World, not knowing what he was hoping to find in Muggle London. It certainly hadn't been this.
He turned around and stared after the man, his eyes following him until the tiny dot that he'd become disappeared into a house in the distance. Draco knew his picking wasn't off. He'd gotten pretty good at recognizing the type of guys who had no problem getting their dick sucked by pretty homeless boys while their loving wives cooked their dinners. But even they seemed to want to spend this evening with their families.
Because even though all days were the same to him now, Draco knew exactly what day it was today. It was all too clear as he walked through the streets and saw the families gathered around tables eating their festive dinners, or around the fireplace, unwrapping presents.
Christmas Eve.
Finally, Draco sat down against the wall of a building that seemed to be a pub. He wouldn't dare going inside, for he'd surely be kicked out. But even though the ground was too cold to sit on, it seemed like he could feel a warmth coming through the wall of the pub, if he pressed himself up to it tightly enough.
Still, Draco felt more alone than ever, and he gave in. He started to rummage through his plastic bag, retrieving the items he needed to cook up his fix for the evening. He used an old bottle cap that hadn't been clean in a long time. After months of unsafe sex and dirty needles, he wasn't all that concerned anymore.
He knew that he'd already used too much that day, knew that he'd have to suffer through horrible pain the next morning because he wouldn't have any left, but he needed it so badly right now.
As the needle pierced his vein and Draco injected himself with what had become his only comfort and worst enemy at the same time, he closed his eyes. His limbs were slowly starting to turn blue, but the warmth that he felt was indescribable.
In Draco's mind, he wasn't sitting out in the cold by himself. He was sitting at a beautifully set table in a warm house. Plates of the most delicious food stood in front of him, but those couldn't hold his attention. Because when he looked around the table, he found he was surrounded by friends and family, people he loved and thought he had lost. His father was there, proven innocent. His mother and Severus, alive. His friends from Hogwarts, chatting happily as if the war had never happened.
It was at the same time that a man stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron, almost tripping over Draco, who was lying in the snow with his eyes closed. The needle had rolled out of his hand. "Hey!" He shouted over his shoulder. "There's some muggle kid lying out here!"
Moments later, a second person joined him outside. "That's not a muggle." Draco slowly awoke from his beautiful dream and could hear the voice, distantly so. It sounded gentle, and vaguely familiar. Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and pick him up, carrying him into a warm place.
It was surreal to have a pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around him, and Draco was sure it was just another dream. But for now, he decided to believe it was real. He wanted to believe that this person would save him, care for him. Perhaps even love him. And as Draco felt himself slip away into the darkness, he smiled.