La Resistance

A/N: This is my second stab at telling the story of one of my half assed plot ideas… my other story… definitely needs work and will be under construction for quite a while, so sorry to anyone of the few people that liked it. Sorry if this story is a little slow at first but it picks up speed later I promise.

Disclaimer: If I owned any part of Harry Potter I wouldn’t be writing this story for no profit. #sigh# How I envy that damn J.K. Rowling…

Some Reading Instructions for Morons
Anything in italics are Harry’s thoughts
Anything in bold can be skipped if desired, such sections I felt like putting in but are not necessary to the story. I’ll try to make it so the story flows with and without the bold segments.

___________lalalala…_______________________________

Chapter Title: Seventeen

________beginning of the story________________________

JULY 31, 1997 | NUMBER TWELVE, GRIMMAULD PLACE

The normally cold gray English sky shines brightly as the sun’s streams of light bend, giving off a brilliant show of colors as though in celebration of the significance of the day for one very special person.

It is Harry Potter’s seventeenth birthday and has been for about four hours now, and so far it has yet to be acknowledged. Considering that everyone, besides our special birthday boy, is asleep we really cannot blame them.

Harry is, however, and has been, sitting shirtless on his balcony deep in thought. Unfortunately his mind is troubled, and not overjoyed as it should be. Overwhelming frustration and irritation make his fist clench and his jaw set.

His eyes gaze in the general direction of the beautiful morning light display, but his mind is far from acknowledging it. A light wind stings at his skin, messes his hair, and fogs his lenses.

Voldemort is no where to be found. The Order still manages to move on, but only by what mere rumor can tell. Only one horcrux has Harry found and it seems impervious to destruction. Harry has spent the past month constantly researching and fighting, which has resulted in him barely sleeping or eating.

As his body is accustom to doing every summer thanks to the Dursley’s, Harry has thinned, ribs protruding yet again. His eyes are dull from extensive use and little rest to compensate.

He blinks his eyes, his fists relax, and his pupils dilate focusing on the beautiful view of the city sky line silhouetted against the array of colors behind them. Harry’s nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, allowing the scene to take affect.

Light music from a neighboring house invades his thoughts… a love song.

…Love…

The stereotypical feelings of longing for someone to love lightly pull at his heart, but so long it has been since he truly felt for some one that the feeling is soon gone, and all thoughts of such ridiculousness are gone as the music is switched to the next track.

For hours his thoughts continue to entertain him till the light sounds of life issue from inside. With another deep breath Harry takes one last look at the now blinding blue sky then retreats back into the Old House of Black.

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Today seems to be determined to astound Harry. The kitchen table was normally bare, littered here and there with small bowls of porridge or plate of eggs and bacon. Not today, however.

Today a brilliant white cloth hides the shabby table beneath. Magick has to be helping the spindly legs as they surely would have snapped by now without it. Plates with mountainous piles of danish, eggs, bacon, sausages, crumpets, crescents, two large pitchers filled with orange and pumpkin juice, and a very large cake bear down heavily on the weak table.

A large banner hangs over head; big, bright, bold letters shine “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!” Molly is swatting at the twins when Harry walks in to see what looks to be the entire Order standing in the tiny kitchen.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Harry’s eyes widen, his left eye twitches. …Holy Shite!… Never before has Harry ever seen such a display of affection… for him anyway. The giant mountain of presents in the corner to his left reminds him greatly of horrible day known as Dudley’s birthday.

He suddenly comes back to consciousness when he is enveloped in a tight cushy hug that can only be Mrs. Weasley. “Happy Birthday, Harry, Dear!” She pulls back slightly to welcome him with another warm loving smile as she grips his shoulders tightly. “Come Dear. We have only about an hour, I am sorry to say, so… EVERYONE DIG IN!”

Harry’s favorite armchair has been brought in from the living room and placed at the head of the table. He sits down, still quite dumbstruck, his face seemingly stuck in with the stupid grin and wide eyes he’s acquired since entering the crowded kitchen. Ron and Hermione are noticeably absent, but Fred and George gladly take their places on either side of him.

Molly seems determined to fatten Harry up to a normal size with the one meal she places before him. Smiling even more stupidly [if that’s possible] Harry looks up at her, “Thank you so much Molly… Thank all of you.” Harry dug in. Once the light click of his fork hitting his teeth sounded everyone began to eat.

“Hey Harry!” Fred leans over his plate to look mischievously at Harry, “Since you’re finally of age, you can come with me and George for a special birthday present.”

…Special? Present? There’s more than this?…

“There’s a place,” George joins in, “just outside of Diagon.”

“Finest girls you’ll ever see, Harry!”
…Oh….
“…with the biggest breast!”
… Merlin…
“Or even blokes if you want, Mate.”

“Lord, help me.” …wait… did I say that out loud?...

The twins laugh at his awkwardness, but go on. “So, Harry…”

“Watcha think?” Both the twins stare intensely at him, their current seating positions not making things any easier.

…do I want to?…. Harry who only so recently twisted his guts in a knot when Ginny merely looked at him, is being invited to … to what? A strip club? A brothel?... “What would I be getting my self into?” Harry finally asked.

“A big breasted lass hopefully.” Fred strengthened his grin.
…Well that answers one question…
“Chubby, skinny, dark, pale, whatever you want.”

“Same with the guys there, Harry.”

“Damn it, Fred! Not every one is a flaming fag like you!” Harry couldn’t help but laugh raucously.

The hour goes by much too quickly, just as a second hour that slipped by unnoticed by even Mrs. Weasley. Harry thought he’d never had this much fun in his entire life.

Despite the lovely morning celebrations, a sad little something lingers in Harry’s mind.
… Where’s Ron and Hermione?...

______________keep reading my little skrod-lover_________

11.45 PM THAT NIGHT

“Can you believe that fuckin’ stupid woman?! How can she trust that bloody git! Damn cocky manipulative bastard!”

“Ron! Be quiet!”

“I’m not even loud!”

“You’re almost screaming, besides someone might get the gist of what you’re saying and it is supposed to be a secret!”

“Stop lecturing me and no one will wake up!”

“Too late.” Harry says opening the door to his bedroom to see Ron and Hermione looking guiltily [and very tiredly] at him.

“Sorry Mate.” Ron walks forward first to hug him. “Happy Birthday, Harry. Sorry we weren’t here today.”

“McGonagall called all the prefects into school today for an emergency meeting.” Hermione answers Harry’s unasked question.

“So… you want your presents now or later?” Harry’s left eye twitched again.

“There are more presents?!” They both smiled humorously at him.

“Of course Harry. You’re seventeenth birthday is a big deal. Remember Ron’s birthday? Remember mine? You can perform magick outside of school now and not get expelled. There’s a lot more you can do now.”

“Yeah, I know,” they all came to sit in various places in Harry’s room, “Fred and George were glad to inform me earlier.”

“What they tell you?” Ron asks intrigued.

“I can buy cigarettes, pornography, liquor, sex toys, apparate, go into sex shops, night clubs, go into a strip club, and buy a whore. They actually told me they would buy a whore for me as a special present.” Ron’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open as hidden thoughts flood his mind [that no one else really needs to see thank you].

“Prostitution is legal in the wizarding world.” Hermione recites.

“Makes sense.” Harry adds. Hermione apparently does not agree.

“How can you say that?” Her face is confused and disgusted.

“Well, I don’t think the government should have a right to tell you what you can and cannot do with your own body. If you wanna let right nasty men do disgusting things to you for money, then you should have the right to do so. If people are willing to spend their money doing it then they probably would find a way around any laws anyway. So if it’s legal then at least it can be done safely instead of in shabby hiding spaces.”

“That argument could just as easily be applied to drugs, Harry. Should drugs be legal as well then?” Hermione is not about to drop this sudden debate.

“True, but we’re not talking about drugs first of all and second of all there are more and better arguments that drugs should be illegal than there are argument for prostitution. ‘Course I think drugs should be legal too. It would just be safer if there were people to keep it in check, like alcohol.”

“Harry that’s a disgusting thing to say!” Hermione’s face contorts in disgust and obvious disapproval at her friend’s words.

“Well, you have your opinion and I have mine.”

“True enough.” Hermione had to admit to that one note, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t be attempting to change her friends mind in the future.

“Fred and George never offered to buy me a whore! They’re my own brother’s and they never take me anywhere! I hate it when they leave me out of things.” Ron pouts petulantly on the floor actually crossing his arms and pushing his bottom lip out slightly.

At Ron’s words the sad feeling Harry had early that morning suddenly spring back into life. “Why did McGonagall call an emergency meeting?”

Hermione and Ron look at each other, silently questioning what words would be best. “We really can’t tell you yet, Harry.” Hermione begins.

“You’ll find out when we get our supply letters but we’re not allowed to tell anyone. Sorry, Mate.” Ron adds.

…More secrets… just like fifth year… and look where that got me… my godfather is dead because of secrets… Harry’s chest fills with the unwelcome but familiar hollowness, a small part of feeling betrayed.

He composes quickly, despite this sudden wave of sadness. “Right, well, I’ll find out eventually right?” He forces a smile and soon after a yawn. “Sorry, but I’m dead tired.”

Seeing through Harry’s forced composure, his friends decide it best to leave him alone.

“You know we’d tell you, Mate, if it was life threatening or something, no matter who we promised, right?” Ron asks hopefully.

Ron may be rather clumsy with his words, but these particular ones do make Harry feel better… slightly. “’Course.” Again he forces a smile till they both leave and his door clicks shut.

… A long minute ticks away as Harry sits angrily staring at his floor boards…

“Bastards.”

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A WEEK LATER | A SHORT DISTANCE FROM DIAGON ALLEY

A week since his confrontation and Harry had yet to speak with Ron and Hermione in a friendly manner. He made conversation sparse and quick any time they had to speak. He ate meals alone in his room and he had not joined them in the Black library for their research sessions all seven days. His friends were sad to be so coldly brushed aside, but know to give Harry his space when he is angry.

“How did you manage to drag me here?” Harry asks rolling his eyes at the ridiculous contraptions in the small dingy sex shop that George and Fred have managed to dragged him into. Ron stayed at home, knowing that Harry still wasn’t happy with him.

“Come on, Harry, they’re upstairs!” George says excitedly rushing towards a doorway with a red velvet curtain in place of a door which hides a set of stairs.

Harry looks quizzically at Fred who’s not quite so excited. They snicker before following the other twin. A heavy perfume wafts down the stairs, hitting them quick and hard; a sickeningly sweet and flowery smell.

…Is this supposed to be pleasant?...

At the top of the stairs Harry and Fred find George deep in conversation with an older woman. They all stand in a large room with a few over stuffed arm chairs against the walls which are covered in a striped wallpaper colored with pink, deep red, and thin strips of gold. The ceiling is arched and painted with a beautiful mural of the goddess Aphrodite who plays with her hair and looks down seductively at them.

The woman George argues with is elegantly dressed, her face gracefully aged; her old beauty still very present. George seems quite irritating to the hostess… that is of course until he points over to his friend Harry. After she lays eyes on the young savior her face holds a pleasant smile and she’s gone in a flash.

George walks over confidently. “Well, I have just gotten you a show with a very special lady. Only the riches of men can get even a minute with her and I’ve gotten you a full hour!”

“Well done. What will I do with her?” Harry asks nonchalant, not all that attracted to the idea of loosing his virginity to a whore, no matter how expensive.

“Wha- what do you do with her!!? YOU BOINK HER BLOODY BRAINS OUT YOU FUCKIN’ … ARGH!” George screams waving his arms about wildly. Taking a deep breath George manages to calm down. “Alright, we’ve got a half hour, let’s get pissed.”

….What’s the harm?… Normally Harry’s thoughts would be much more frantic constantly thinking of what Voldemort’s next move would be or where the next horcrux could possibly be hidden. However, the twins know him better than he knows. So they slipped a little bit of sedative in his morning pumpkin juice. ^_^

Thus Harry now sits at a bar downing his fifth glass of Fire Whiskey. “You know,” Harry suddenly decides to slur, “who can’t stand?” he looks over to Fred, his eyes half lidded. “Malfoy! Shtupid giddy furret! Always sho fekkin’ primplied!” Harry takes a second to swallow before continuing to talk at Fred, who is obviously not listening seeing as he is much too interested in a very lovely man with pink hair. “Slickin’ ‘is hair… lookin’ all greashy an’ an’ bleh!”

[Translation of Harry slur: “You know who I can’t stand? Malfoy! Stupid git of a ferret! Always so fuckin’ primped! Slickin’ his hair lookin’ all greasy and and bleh!”]

From his pocket Harry pulls out a few knuts and slams them on the bar earning him three more glasses. After quickly chugging all three, Harry, again, continues, “I mean, ‘ee’s pretty er whatevuh, but he’ look sho much bettuh wit it down.” he added suddenly feeling bad, in his drunken stupor, for insulting someone he felt was just an idiotic cowardly scared little boy behind his haughty demeanor.

“Harry!” At first Harry just looks around in front of him for the voice calling his name, but then George spins him around and Harry smiles his goofy smile. “Time to go!”

All three of them stumble their way back up the velvety stairs to sit and wait in the giant over stuffed armchairs. The hostess is soon in front of them, “Evening gentlemen, I hope the wait was not too long. Now if you’ll follow me, Nadira is waiting.”

Slowly they follow after the hostess who looks to be floating before them. Through a hallway and a few doors and they enter the biggest bedroom any of them has ever seen containing the biggest bed any of them has ever seen. The bed isn’t alone in the room, there’s a full catwalk with a golden pole at the end, and a large Jacuzzi. Two doors other than the one they came from are inset in opposite walls, one leading to a bathroom and the other is a surprise for special quests according to the hostess.

“Well gentlemen, will it just be one of you or all?” The twins are drooling, Harry is dancing slightly to his own little beat which he hums off key.

“ALL!” The twins almost scream and rush into the bedroom dragging Harry along with them. The hostess politely shuts the door behind them and leaves the boys to jump on the bed and into the Jacuzzi.

Harry is busy changing the bed into a water bed and back into a normal spring mattress when she walks in. The bathroom door opens and the twins’ jaws hit the floor. Nadira is a magnificent Persian beauty, voluptuous, dark skinned, long legged, long black hair, long thick lashes, and radiant hazel eyes.

Fred slumps down to the base of the gold pole he was just so recently climbing while George has to grip the outside edge of the Jacuzzi to keep from drowning, and Harry is still playing with the bed settings, the lovely woman completely unnoticed.

“So who’s the special birthday boy?” She asks leaning coolly against the doorway.

“My birthday was a week ago.” Harry says absently, now absorbed in changing the colors of the sheets.

“Well then,” a wicked smile graces her plump rosy limps, “what would you like for your special present?” She slips off her skimpy robe to reveal black lace lingerie, but Harry has yet to pay attention. “Did you hear me, Honey?” with delicate fingers she grasps his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. “What would you like, Sweetie?” she repeats.

Finally his blurred eyes are staring into hers clearly aware that she is present. She steps back so he might get a better look, her viciously tempting smirk still in place, but it is gone when he begins to laugh. “Hahahahahahaa! You- hehehe – you have tits! Ahahahaha!” Harry slumps back on the bed rolling in laughter and is soon thrilled by the amazing swishy movement of the water bed.

Nadira stands back watching in utter dismay. What should she do? This has never happened before. The worst thing that’s ever happened with a drunken client is they pass out. No one has ever… EVER… laughed at her, and at such an odd thing! Of course she has tits! What is wrong with this boy?!

Fred and George are just as startled as she is, but unlike her, they have a way of taking advantage of Harry’s disinterest in the beautiful woman.

“So,” George begins coming up on her right, “since our friend here is obviously out of his wits…”

“And we are so obviously more attractive…” Fred adds from her left.

“How ‘bout a little entertainment?” Her smirk is back.

“Alright then,” with a sultry walk she ambles over to the special door and opens it, “pick your poison boys.”

Fred and George stare wide eyed at the assortment of leather toys and quickly rush over overjoyed.

…An hour later…

“Harry! Harry wake up!” groggily Harry opens his eyes to see two identical red heads staring down at him. “Come on, Mate, I think I’ve got just the thing for you.”

“Where are we go-ing?” Harry asks as he’s pulled up from the bed.

“Something I think will be more your style.” Fred answers.

About fifteen minutes later they’ve arrived at a shabby looking building a few blocks down from the brothel. The building is completely black except for a large rainbow sign above the door. “What is this place?” a slightly more sober Harry inquires.

“You’ll see.” Inside the building is filled with loud music, bright flashing lights and lasers, and a large catwalk the floor of which is covered in mirrors as is the ceiling above. There is one particular detail that Harry definitely fails to comprehend in his immense drunkenness, the buff man in a silver thong gliding up and down the brass pole right in front of him.

Harry, who is still monumentally drunk, giggles. “His dick is shiny!”

“Haha! Come on birthday boy.” George and Fred drag him to the back rooms and sit him in an empty bedroom before going to talk to the host.

“I wanna go to Britain! Wait… hehe… I meant German land… or some such. I should really buy a pony! Don’t you think? Merlin! Where’s the Fire Whiskey? Oomf!!” Harry exclaims falling off the bed, but soon he is searching under the bed for a bottle. “Aww.” His search unsuccessful, he climbs back onto the bed, flopping onto his back.

“Hello there.”

“Hm?” Harry lifts his head up slightly to see who was with him. A tall buff blonde stands before him, no shirt, only a skimpy pair of shorts. His hair hangs down, a few strands hang in his face. “You got any whiskey?”

“Sure thing, Hon.” He walks over to the nightstand, from the draw he pulls out a full bottle and two glasses. He pours one for each of them then hands one to Harry. “My name’s Damian.”

“You look like Draco. See! He should wear his hair the way you do! He’d look so much better! But no! Bloody git has to glue it to his head, everday!” He chugged down his drink and held it up for more.

“Hehe. So you got a crush on this Draco?” Damian asks as he pours Harry another drink.

“Crush? No! He’s so fuckin’ stupid! Dumb fuckin’ ferret got my friend killed! He’s just dumb! And – and he’s just really pretty! He’s – he’s got blond hair an’ and he got gray eyes. Not like bleh gray either, but like bright oh-my-fuckin’-god-look-at-those-eyes kinda gray!” Harry gesticulates wildly at his eyes, spilling a few drops of his drink as he does. Damian smiles at Harry’s obliviousness. “He’s so pale too! He’s pretty skinny, but toned, you know?” As though noticing his drink for the first time, Harry chugs it back, and holds it up again to the stranger, a goofy smile on his face.

“Heh, maybe more later, Hon.” Damian took his glass and set in on the side table. “So do I look like this Draco?”

“Pretty close, but your eyes are blue. His eyes are gray. They’re really pretty. Really shiny.” Harry snorted as he thought about it.

“So you think Draco’s pretty, huh?” Harry nodded lazily. “You think I’m pretty?”

Harry looked at him, “Yeah, you’re pretty pretty.”

“Good. You’re pretty good lookin’ yourself, Hon.” Damian’s breath warms the side of Harry’s neck. …When did he get so close?...and where are his hands going?... Damian’s hands are messaging Harry’s thighs, creeping closer and closer to Harry’s zipper.

Harry felt a warm kiss on his neck, a hand rubbing him through his trousers, another on his shoulder pushing him back. “What are you-”

“Ssh… Just think of Draco, Babe, his beautiful gray eyes, his hair down grazing his slender neck, his pale bare chest… relax…” the whispers in his ear were soft and calming. He was spinning, his mind filling with images of gray eyes, sad, angry, happy, agitated, laughing…

“…Draco…” his breath increases, as a warm hand wraps around his quickly hardening dick. New pictures begin to form in his mind. Draco on top of him, kissing his neck, tweaking his nipples, Draco’s warm mouth covering his dick. “Ngh!” Harry moans as his hand involuntarily reaches for the blonde’s hair, pushing his dick further down his throat. His hands are swatted away and pinned at his sides.

…so… slow!... “Draco, please!” Harry’s eyes go wide as his entire dick is engulfed, the blonde practically fucking his own face on Harry’s dick hard and fast. “I’m gonna… fuck! DRACO!” Harry screams and he comes violently in the back of the blonde’s throat.

His breathing is heavy as he passes out. Damian looks at the boy and smiles. There’s nothing more beautiful than someone in love. Gently and quietly, he tucked the boy back into his pants, set his glasses on the side table and walked out, closing the door with a small click.

“So?” Fred asks as soon as Damian is out of the room.

“Well,” Damian sighs, smirk still firmly in place, “had to get him to think of his little lover boy to get anywhere, actually I think he thought I was him after a little while.” He chuckled.

“What’s his lover boy’s name?” The twins asked at the same time.

“Draco. Started screamin’ his name when he came. So cute seein’ a boy so obviously in love and havin’ no idea.” The twins recover quickly from their shock. Smiling, they hand the man ten galleons. He doesn’t take it though. “It’s okay. This one’s on me.” He winks and walks away.

“Well,” Fred broke the silence.

“You were right, Fred,” George looks at his twin, “he is a fuckin’ flaming fag.”

_____________yay yaoi!______________________________

AUGUST 15TH | NUMBER TWELVE, GRIMMAULD PLACE
A WEEK AFTER THE TWINS’ PRESENT FOR HARRY

The past week has been full of events. Many new clues have been delivered to the Order through a reliable source, Harry was assured. It has been proven that Voldemort and a good many of his followers have been residing in Germany in Hiltler’s mountain home ironically enough. Also that a horcrux may be hiding somewhere in a small farm in Sweden.

With so much new information Harry has been constantly working, researching and apparating from country to country. Worn and tired he still moves on and avoids Fred and George’s strange glances. His memory of his birthday surprise evening ends at passing out in the brothel and Fred and George haven’t found it necessary to remind him.

“Harry Dear? Your letter’s come today.” Molly smiles sweetly at Harry, who obviously has gotten no sleep since she’s last seen him.

“Thank you, Mum.” Harry takes the letter and a glass of pumpkin juice from her and begins to open his letter. … It’s heavier this year… he thinks absently as he rips the seal.

Dumping the papers out onto his bed, something shiny catches his eye. Pushing the other papers aside he picks up a gold pin. … It’s too late for a prefect’s badge… what the fuck is this thing?... Rifling through the papers again, he finds one with the same design as the badge a short letter following.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is custom at Hogwarts; School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to appoint a subordinate to a prefect should that person be unable to do their duties as well as they would under normal circumstances.

Considering there may be threats on his life should his face be seen, you have been chosen to escort and speak for Lord Draco Lucius Malfoy. Be aware that he is still capable of docking points for any bad behavior you may exhibit.

The pin enclosed is spelled so you are allowed to hear what he says. All teachers shall be able to as well.

Instead of staying in Gryffindor Tower you shall be sharing rooms with Lord Malfoy. You both will have your own common room and lavatory. Your schedules will be changed so you share all the same classes; which means you will be put into Advanced Potions, Advanced Arithmancy, Advanced Charms and Advanced Transifiguration. You will be removed from Divination. He will be placed into Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I will discuss this new situation with you further on September first on the Hogwarts Express at 1:00 PM, after the prefects meeting.

Congratulations,

Minerva McGonagall

The paper slips unnoticed from his now limp hands. “I don’t believe it.”

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A/N; Hope you’ve enjoyed it so far. The next chapter should be up soon and yes I realize the stupidity in starting a completely new story when the seventh book is coming out in only a few days. Hope it wasn’t too jumpy.
GOOD AND BAD REVIEWS ARE ALL WELCOME!