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Harry was exhausted.
He was just dismissed from a shift of over 24 hours. After a stakeout that lead to successful raid which took up almost a whole day on its own, he was forced into one of those tedious meetings some Aurors are tasked to go to in order to discuss possible solutions for other cases as well as a break down of what happened in the previous raid for areas of improvement.
Now, however, he was trudging through one of the back Alleys in the city in West Central London; a shortcut to his apartment that was in a Wizarding district- surrounded by several Muggle areas as well.
It was a sketchy route to take, Harry knew, but honestly, he didn’t really care. Sure, he was too tired to apparate without the risk of splinching himself, but that doesn’t mean is incapable of defending himself should something happen. He was a wizard, after all.
The streets were crowded with what Harry assumed were Muggles. This was still the Muggle section of the city, he noted. He took a right and was momentarily blinded by the bright neon lights that filled the street, still crowded with people.
After blinking to himself a few times, he looked around and realized that while most of the shops at ground level were your regular day-to-day stores, the neon lights climbed up from hidden little staircases that went under the buildings all the way up to the apartments that walled the street high up.
A Red Light District
He never realized that this was on one of his fairly used routes on the way home but, then again, he didn’t often take it and when he did, it was more likely because he wanted to take a stroll early in the morning.
He felt curiosity creep through him but forced himself to shrug it off. No, he was not about to get into that. He was exhausted and frankly, he didn’t like the idea of paying someone to have sex with him. It felt wrong; like he was forcing them or something.
Instead, he forced his head to face forward and keep walking at a steady pace, careful to make sure that he didn’t stare too long at anyone that he passed by as he did so.
There were a few men and women who whistled in his direction and called him over, asking if he was interested, but Harry just politely shook his head and kept walking.
Suddenly, he heard a crash in a narrow side alley and some screaming. He knew that he should have kept walking, that it was none of his business and that he should have ignored it, but something inside him was screaming to check it out.
For all he knew, someone could be getting seriously injured. He knew that this type of work came with its risks, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep comfortable knowing that something seriously wrong might have just happened as he forced himself to walk by.
Shoving his hand in his pocket so that he was just gripping the base of his wand, he quickened his pace towards the sound of the crash, the deep voice of a male getting louder as he approached.
Quietly, as to not draw attention to himself if there really was nothing bad happening, he peeked his head past the corner of the building to see the large build of a short man towering over someone who appears to have fallen and was now lying on the hard pavement.
“You can’t reject me,” the short man grunted, taking a threatening step towards whoever that was on the ground. “I’m paying you. If only the wizarding world could see how you’ve fallen from grace.”
A wizard, Harry thought. At least he knew that it would be safe to use his wand in any case, but that also meant that whoever that was lying on the ground was a wizard who worked as a Muggle prostitute.
Harry continued watching as he saw the man get even closer to the fallen figure, grabbing his arm and forcing him to his feet to shove him against the wall. Harry couldn’t make out any faces through the dark, but he could see their figures.
He saw the man who was being pinned tense, yet also slump as if accepting the inevitable. The short, stout man that was pinning the worker against the wall began moving his hands all over the trapped body, and Harry felt his gut twist. Harry heard him snap, "Now bend over," and that's when he knew he had to do something quick.
“Stupefy,” he casted, aiming his wand at the short man and watching as he suddenly collapsed on the ground like a wooden plank. As soon as he fired the spell, he dashed over to where the guy that was being held, whose knees buckled as he collapsed against the wall of the building for support while he rubbed at his arm where he was held just seconds ago.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked, jogging over. Except, as he neared the tired looking figure, their features began to become clearer, and as they became clearer, they began to look familiar.
“I’m alright, thanks,” the blond man said, not noticing the way his green eyes widened. That voice, although empty without its usual drawl, was one he could easily pick out from a whole gala of chattering Ministry employees.
“Malfoy?” Harry’s voice came out in a soft whisper and yet, despite the loud music blaring through the busy night street, Malfoy seems to have heard him perfectly.
His blond head snapped up to face Harry and, if it were possible, seemed to pale even more. All movement seemed to freeze in that moment when Malfoy recognized Harry as well, both of their breathing taking a pause.
“It’s you, right?” Harry clarified, wanting to make sure even though he had a strong gut feeling that he already knew his answer.
“Potter,” Malfoy responded, immediately pulling himself up from the wall and straightening his posture, the darkness of the alleyway hiding the redness that found its way to Malfoy's cheeks. They were both at a loss of what to say.
“I didn’t know you worked around this area.” As a prostitute, the unsaid words hung heavily in the air and they both knew it, but Harry didn’t want to say it out loud.
“I wasn’t aware that you passed here at night,” Malfoy shot back, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I don’t normally,” Harry said defensively.
“I know.” Harry gaped while Malfoy let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair.
“Wait, what you you mean ,‘I know’?” Harry asked, now feeling suspicious.
“I live in this area too,” Malfoy said, raising his eyebrow as if Harry were dim. “I’ve seen you walk by in the daytime.”
“Right,” Harry muttered, flushing. Suddenly, unsure of what else to say, he repeated his previously answered question. “Are you alright?”
“I said I was fine, didn’t I?” Malfoy snapped, suddenly defensive.
“Sorry,” Harry said quickly, raising his hands in defense. “It’s just that....”
“Yeah,” Malfoy sighed, relaxing himself once more. “I mean, thanks. I’m alright thanks to you, I suppose.”
“Has this happened before?’ Harry inquired curiously.
“Of course it has,” Malfoy snorted, as if it were the most obvious question in the world. “It’s been worse, of course, so I should be fine.”
“But that’s not alright!” Harry felt rage bubble inside him. Dread filled him as he imagined what Malfoy might have meant by worse. Of course he's head news of these things, but he never actually imagined what it might feel like until that moment. “Haven’t you ever reported them?”
Malfoy looked at him incredulously, as if Harry said something blindingly stupid.
“Sorry to shit on your Savior Morals, Potter, but the law doesn’t exactly care about whores like me,” Malfoy spat spitefully, glaring at the ground as he spoke.
“But that doesn’t make sense!” Harry argued.
“Of course it doesn’t, but that’s life, isn’t it?” This time, Malfoy laughed humorlessly. “The world looks down on sex work. It is what it is, but I do what I need to get by.”
“Did the Ministry not give you back your assets once the trials were over?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. He was at Malfoy’s hearing, and he knew for a fact that this was one of the things that was promised to him. The vaults promised to his name, while still being owned by his father, should have been given back to him so he could start a decent life. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't.
“There was nothing to give,” Malfoy shrugged, only increasing Harry’s confusion further. As if sensing it, the blond continued. “I was disowned before the trials. Around the same time I let you escape from the Manor and my family went through my brain with a Legilimency.”
Harry winced. “I hadn’t realized...” he said, feeling truly awful. Sure, he didn’t like Malfoy at the time of his trial, but it was supposed to give him a second chance. Instead, it felt more like he was robbed of that.
“That’s what happens when you’re a Pureblooded queer,” Malfoy sneered at Harry as if he thought the other man wouldn’t understand. In all fairness to him, Harry didn't. Not really.
“Still,” Harry insisted. “You could have come to me or something.”
“Oh yeah, because we got on so well in school, didn’t we?” Malfoy scoffed. “Face it; you wouldn’t have helped me and, to further this, I don’t want your charity.”
“You could have just paid me back eventually,” Harry continued, pointedly ignoring first half of the statement.
“And who would hire a Death Eater?” At this, Malfoy raised the sleeve of his netted shirt. While it didn’t exactly cover the Dark Mark before, pushing it up made it strikingly clear against Malfoy’s pale skin, making Harry stare. He knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help it. It's been a while since he's seen another Dark Mark and yet somehow, even with Malfoy bearing to him, he didn't feel threatened.
At Harry’s silence, he continued. “All things considered, I had a higher chance of surviving in the Muggle world with no money than I do forcing myself to live in the wizarding world with little to nothing.”
Harry wasn’t sure of what else to say after that, because he wouldn’t know. For all he knew, Malfoy could be wrong. But he could also be correct. All that Harry knew was that he didn’t want to leave Malfoy like this, and he wanted to help him somehow.
“Don’t pull your Saviour complex on me now, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, his attitude from when they were schoolboys returning, shifting uncomfortably under Harry's scrutiny and lack of response. "There's nothing that can be done."
“Stay with me,” Harry blurted, not realizing what he said until he said it.
This made Malfoy stare at him, this time making Harry squirm under the hard gaze.
“What?” the blond clarified.
“I mean... you look tired,” and he did. While Malfoy looked good, all things considered, he looked exhausted. Possibly from working late nights, but Harry felt that there could also be emotional exhaustion from the little incident he witnessed just a few minutes ago.
“I’m working, Potter,” Malfoy said slowly, unsure of Harry’s motivations.
“I’ll pay for your time,” Harry pushed, not sure of why he was insisting. Anyhow, he felt that it was too late to take it back, so he continued. “Or even move in with me after this, you know?”
“No, Potter,” Malfoy said, looking extremely frustrated and confused. “I don’t know.”
“I mean just live with me, like flatmates,” Harry explained. “And maybe we can work on something to get you out of this situation.”
“Okay, let’s get one thing clear, Potter,” Malfoy said, his eyes narrowing into slits. “While I don’t find my situation to be the most ideal, I am not ashamed of myself or what I do.”
This surprised Harry. Of all the things that he was expecting to come out of his former rival’s mouth, this was not one of them. It just didn’t align with how he knew Draco saw himself when they were back in school.
“I have been working for myself for 3 years to attend a Muggle Medical University, which I have been attending for 2 years, live in a shared flat with the other workers for low pay, and have been managing just fine on my own,” Malfoy stated firmly.
“Oh yeah, you were managing just fine minutes ago!” Harry snapped, unsure as to why Malfoy was rejecting his offer. He just wanted to help the stubborn git.
“It happens,” Malfoy glared at him. “It’s not always like that and I’ve been doing just fine without any charity, so I don’t understand why you’re insisting that I stay with you now.”
“Just let me make sure that you’re safe,” Harry insisted. “At least by staying with me, I would know if something happened if you don’t come back.”
Malfoy stared at him. Then blinked. Then continued staring at him until Harry felt that maybe he was crossing a line here.
“What?” Malfoy asked eventually.
“Just,” Harry felt like ripping his hair out. “Look, you said you don’t want charity. Fine, I’ll stay out of your business and won’t meddle with what you’re doing, but at least live with me until you manage to afford your own place and graduate so I know you’re safe whenever you go out to work.”
"Potter, I already told you that I can handle myself just fine," Malfoy said. "I don't understand why you care so much."
"You might be handling it," Harry said. "But who's actually taking care of you?" This made him pause. "I care, Malfoy, because even if you're a prat, this isn't fair, okay? If the Ministry had known, they probably could have provided you with an alternative."
This made Malfoy pause. He looked as though he was processing Harry's every word carefully before he opened his mouth to respond. "I'm taking care of myself," he said slowly.
"But who's making sure that you get home alright?" Harry said slowly with a small nod. "You don't have to be alone through all this, you know? You may be fine now, but who would check on you in case you weren't?"
"Of course I do," Malfoy snorted. "Who else would I go to? Other than the few friends I've made who work in the same area as me. And they check on me often enough, at least, to make sure I'll be paying my part of the rent."
"You could go to me," Harry said sincerely. "Even if it's just for the sake of having a decent place to stay while you study." He couldn't imagine a whorehouse being a comfortable place to study, considering Malfoy also said he was also a student.
"So you've mentioned," Malfoy said softly, looking away. "But we hardly even like each other. I feel like you didn't even think this through. Would you feel safe living with someone like me "
"I've always been able to before," Harry teased lightly with a small smile, refusing to admit that, yeah, he didn't think this through at all. "Please? Just think about it."
“But you won’t find a way to make me quit and insist on finding me a job in the wizarding community?” Malfoy clarified.
“Do you want me to?” Harry asked hopefully, feeling like he was getting somewhere.
“No,” Malfoy shut him down, but Harry refused to let himself feel too disappointed. He knew it was coming. “I’ll- And you have no problem with what I’m doing? That I'm a whore?”
“Look, you said that you aren’t ashamed of what you do because you chose to do this, right?” Harry clarified, waiting for the other man’s nod of approval.
“It pays high and I make enough to graduate on time while buying everything I need,” Malfoy shrugged. “I was just lucky to find people who could guide me around this whole thing.”
“Then if you want to keep doing this, fine,” Harry shrugged. “It’s your life and I’m not going to judge you for it. I'd only find you another job if you wanted to quit. I just want to make sure that you get home safely, alright?”
“You can’t stop people from using me and then leaving without paying,” Malfoy reminded him dryly, and Harry felt his gut drop. “Or those who hurt me while I’m working and let me go after. That’s how it is, even if I do stay with you.”
“Would you let me go after them?” Harry asked hopefully, only to earn himself a snort from the other man.
“No,” he said. “You said you weren’t going to meddle, and I’m holding you to that.”
“Fine,” Harry grumbled, trying to see if there was a way to convince Malfoy to change his mind. For now, he’ll settle. “But if you get hurt, I’m allowed to heal you.”
“Fine,” Malfoy shrugged. “It doesn’t normally happen unless I try to leave, but most don’t like to leave evidence for the police.”
Harry was beginning to wish he could slap the government to enforce better laws to protect sex workers, but unfortunately he had no business with the Muggle government. The wizarding one however... maybe he should call Hermione in.
“Since we’ll be living together, call me Harry,” the man grinned, holding his hand out for the other to take. Malfoy stared at his hand like it were some foreign object for a few seconds before grasping it firmly. Malfoy immediately added that he could call him by his given name as well.
“What are you going to do about this guy?” Ma- Draco asked, pushing the edge of his shoe into the shoulder of the fallen man Harry had stunned just earlier.
Oh, Harry thought. Right. He forgot about that.
“I’ll take care of him,” Harry promised. “Why don’t you pack your bags and tell your employer that I’m paying you for the rest of the night so that you could settle in and I’ll meet you back here when you’re done.”
Draco’s eyes him for a few seconds, a strange, guarded emotion in his eyes before shrugging and nodding. “Alright,” he agreed. “If I’m not back when you are, I’m housed of the second building to the left on the right side, third floor.”
“Right,” Harry nodded, mentally noting those directions before bending down to hold up the stunned man. They both gave each other a nod and Harry, suddenly feeling more awake now, apparated to the entrance of the Ministry in what Hermione would most likely call a reckless decision.
Hell, everything about that night was pretty reckless, why not reach for the stars.
Before entering, he edited the man’s memory so that he wouldn’t be able to remember Draco’s face or his recognition of him at all before bringing him in to the Auror department where there were always people on duty.
Harry briefly went over the situation which should be enough to make a case against the man, which still took a bit longer than expected since he needed to sign some paper work, before apparating back to the alley where he left Draco.
His former schoolmate was already there when he arrived, leaning against the wall where Harry found him initially, looking very unsure of himself, which made Harry frown. He was clutching two large muggle suitcases which surprised Harry since he wasn’t really expecting the man to have so much to bring, all things considered, but shrugged it off and offered to bring one himself.
“We’re just going to apparate,” he explained when Draco glared at his outstretched hand as if it offended him. “It would make this all easier.”
“Fine,” Draco gave in, handing him the handle of one of his bags and using his free arm to hold onto Harry’s.
His skin felt warm where they connected, a somewhat comforting feeling for Harry, as they disapparated. Once they arrived with a soft crack into Harry’s living room, he set the bag down on his sofa.
“I live alone, but there’s a spare room across mine,” Harry said, leading his new flatmate through the house. “I’ll write down the address for you in a bit if you choose not to apparate in and let you get settled.”
With that, he began making his way to the door and lock himself in his room in panic while he contemplated whether this was a good idea or not. He should probably floo Ron and Hermione tomorrow and tell them about the new... development.
“Harry,” Draco’s soft voice echoed through the slightly furnished room. Harry stopped in his tracks to turn and face the other man, his heart stuttering for some odd reason as it was the first time Draco used his given name.
“Thank you,” Draco said without waiting for Harry to ask what he needed. Harry just nodded, unsure of what Draco was thanking him for specifically, but he didn’t care. Whether it was for speaking at his trial, or getting that guy off him in the alley, or offering him a place to stay, Harry didn’t know. He just knew that he was filled with warmth, and that this was the right decision.
“Goodnight, Draco,” Harry smiled before exiting, just catching the barest hint of a smile on Draco’s face as he left.
And life continued as it normally did. Draco didn’t comment when Harry left food out for him every morning and evening. He didn’t react when he and Harry began spending their free time together when Draco didn’t have class or it was too early to work and Harry had a free day.
They didn’t comment on when Harry began helping Draco review for his tests despite not understanding a lick of what he was reading. Draco never pointed out how they settled into their own routine of dividing chores their chores and going out to restock their pantry.
If when Draco gets hurt or mistreated while he’s working and comes home crying, nobody had to know. If Harry was always waiting for him to get back with a soft blanket and hot chocolate for when these things happened, and that he would hold Draco until he calmed down so they could talk about it, running his hand through his hair and placing a soft kiss to the top of his head, until the blond fell asleep in his arms, that was their business.
And if, when Draco falls asleep from exhaustion after a bad day, and Harry disappears into the night to give some guy a punch and a solid kick to their bollocks before wiping their memory, well, Draco didn’t need to know.