Memoirs of a Male Escort

Authors Note: *** To anyone who hasn't already seen, I've posted a new Oneshot called Only Fools Rush In. It's quite long, so be warned. I’ve had several people comment on the blurbs in the beginning of each chapter of this story. In my head, Draco has decided to do something good with his experiences and write a book for anyone possibly looking into the profession, so he’s been keeping a journal of his time as an escort and these are sections from his entries. (Though every once in awhile they are Harry’s journal entries) I’m not sure yet whether I’m actually going to make a notation about this in the story or not, but I thought you all might like a little insight into my process and what it all means.

Chapter 15

Insert prophetic wisdom here.

Why are you listening to my advice anyway? Run away from this lifestyle before it’s too late. I’m miserable and lonely and I have no one to blame for that aside from myself. If you have another option – take it. If you don’t, well then you’ll just end up screwed like me… literally.

--

The hospital room was sterile and smelled of disinfectant and death. Harry wasn’t the biggest fan of hospitals as he spent far too much time in them after the war. Even though he was virtually unscathed, aside from the nightmares he still sometimes had, so many of his friends and schoolmates didn’t have the same luck, so he spent months after the war visiting various people in hospital.

As bad as the hospital was though, it was always far preferable to the other places he spent a lot of time in after the war.

Funeral Parlors.

At least if you were in a hospital you had a very good chance of walking out again.

The ache of nearly losing Draco hadn’t eased much and Dennis had come and gone twice already, once to bring him lunch and the second time to take down the orders he wanted to be given to the Auror department.

Hermione had yet to return and Harry was starting to grow nervous, but refused to leave Draco’s side. He decided that if she hadn’t checked in with him by dinnertime then he would send Dennis after her just to make sure she was okay.

“Minister Potter,” a voice called from the doorway and Harry turned to smile slightly at Healer Platt. The man had been kind enough to leave Harry alone through most of the day, which he was more appreciative than he could even tell the healer.

“Come in, Healer Platt,” Harry called back.

“It’s time for me to wake Mr. Malfoy and check his condition once more,” he told Harry. “Would you wait just outside, please?”

Harry squirmed slightly but resolved himself as he looked down at Draco’s pale and fragile form. “I’d prefer to stay if it won’t impede with your tests,” he stated firmly. Harry disliked trying to use his influence to get around the rules, but he had to keep Draco safe at all costs.

The healer looked at him nervously but eventually nodded. “As you wish, Minister.”

Healer Platt waved his wand over Draco’s body and a shimmering blue light drifted up and away from him. Suddenly Draco’s breathing was more erratic and his face was twisted with pain. “Is he alright?” Harry asked, moving briskly to the other side of Draco’s bed and reaching for his hand.

“Everything is normal. He was sleeping too deeply to notice his injuries before, but now that I’ve pulled him from the healing coma he’s feeling all of it,” the healer replied. “Depending on the outcome of these next tests, we may put him back under.”

Harry nodded and smoothed Draco’s hair away from his face. It was an odd feeling to be looking after Draco in this manner, standing in the place of a spouse when they had barely told each other their feelings, let alone made any sort of a commitment. When Draco got better would they start dating? Would he even mind the idea of Harry being there now?

Millions of questions buzzed through his mind as the healer conducted test after test on the sleeping patient. Different color shapes and light hovered over Draco’s body, most of them centered over Draco’s wound and Harry started to ask what they all meant until he looked up to see the intense concentration wrinkling the healers face. Harry had requested to stay in the room; the least he could do was stay quiet.

The healer looked up abruptly and scrutinized Harry and his hand clasped around Draco’s. “Uncanny,” Platt whispered.

“What?” Harry asked, quite startled.

“When you touched him just now his statistics went a little haywire,” the healer told him.

Harry quickly retracted his hand, but Platt stopped him in mid motion, and replaced it. “No, Minister, the effect you have on him actually improved his vitals. It appears your power is quite strong.”

“So, I’m not hurting him?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Quite the opposite. In fact, you would be a natural Healer if you were inclined to take the training,” he replied.

“I think I might actually prefer that to being Minister, but alas here I am,” Harry replied with a sweeping gesture. “Maybe once my tenure is complete at the Ministry.”

Healer Platt nodded and smiled as if thrilled to have potentially brought The Harry Potter over to the ways of healing.

Finally the phantom geometry faded and the healer looked pleased. “He’s doing remarkably well and seems to have an above average will to live. Very persistent this one.”

“That’s my Draco,” Harry chuckled, hoping that Draco really would be his soon.

The healer raised an eyebrow and looked conflicted for an instant before seeming to steel himself to speak. “I’m sorry if this is too personal sir, but you and Mr. Malfoy seem like a very unlikely couple.”

Harry smiled sadly. It seemed that no one would be accepting of he and Draco together. “It makes all the sense in the world to me, Healer Platt.”

“Fair enough,” the healer replied with a shrug and Harry only wished the others were as easy to convince.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy seems to have healed from most of the internal injuries and by this time tomorrow there should only be some slight scarring and tenderness to the touch,” the healer said, putting away his wand.

“When will he wake up?” Harry asked, tightening his grip on Draco’s hand.

“He’s most likely wake up on his own shortly. I’m only going to give him a light pain relieving potion to ease his discomfort instead of reintroducing the healing coma,” the healer replied, a proud grin plastered on his face.

“I’m very thankful for all your help, Healer Platt,” Harry said, gazing into the still closed eyes of his Draco.

“Please, call me Sam,” the healer replied, blushing slightly.

“Then you must call me Harry,” he replied, ignoring the blush increase on Sam’s cheeks.

He offered his hand and Sam took it gladly, shaking it vigorously. Harry respected the man for not letting awe of celebrity get in the way of doing his job. Most people he came across never waited too long before asking for an autograph, or for him to bless their child, or to insinuate themselves into his memory some other way.

Being Harry Potter was an odd experience and he never knew what to expect from day to day, but as he looked down on his nearly healthy love, he thought that it was all worth it in the end.

“If you need anything at all Harry, have them summon me. I’ll take care of it right away,” Sam promised.

Harry nodded and watched the healer walk from the room, relieved to be alone with Draco again, even if he was unconscious. Harry ran his hand gently through Draco’s golden hair and sighed heavily. Eventually the tears from the grief, stress and relief would push toward the surface, but Harry wouldn’t let that happen in the middle of the hospital. He would wait until he had Draco safe and until he was alone. He couldn’t afford to appear weak, even though that was how he felt, especially not now when Draco needed him for protection and to solve this angry act against him.

There was a quiet knock at the door and Harry summoned Dennis into the room without looking up. “Do you have news?” he asked, still focused on Draco’s steadily breathing chest.

“I’ve compiled a list of all known witches or wizards that had access or at least some knowledge of your home, as well as the people who knew you were intimately linked to Mr. Malfoy, as you requested, sir,” Dennis began. Harry had already mentally tabulated his own list while he waited at Draco’s side but he wanted to make certain he hadn’t left any one out.

“The list is very short, sir,” Dennis said. Harry still hadn’t broken him of his ‘sir’ habit yet.

“I thought it might be,” Harry replied.

“And I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Dennis added.

“I’m sure I won’t. It hardly makes a difference though. I need to figure this out one way or another,” Harry told him.

“Well, the list includes Ron and Hermione of course, also Kingsley, Blake, and Madame X. It’s trickier because the stunt you pulled before your orientation made the all papers, so virtually everyone knows you at least dated Draco once, but I tried to narrow it down to people who knew for a fact you two were seeing more of each other then that,” Dennis reported dutifully.

“You forgot to list yourself,” Harry noted with a smile and watched Dennis pale.

“I’ve never been to your home, sir,” he stammered.

“I was only teasing, Dennis. Lighten up,” Harry teased.

“To be honest, I pity the witch or wizard who did this to Mr. Malfoy. I would never, ever want to be on the wrong side of your wand, sir,” Dennis added.

Harry looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean by that, Dennis?”

“Well, you’re probably the most powerful wizard in England, if not the world, sir,” he began and ignored Harry’s narrowed eyes. “I’m serious. Even if the rumors about your magical power are false, which I doubt, you have more political clout then any other wizard in Europe,” he finished, looked slightly nauseas.

“I only hope it’s no one on this list,” Harry sighed. “Most of them are people I trust with my life, and I’d hate to think that trust was misplaced.” Suddenly Harry felt more exhausted then he had felt since the war. Just thinking of someone on that list trying to kill him or Draco made his nerve endings blister and boil. He wouldn’t have wanted to see any of those people in an Azkaban cell, but that’s where they would go if found guilty of attempted murder of the Minister.

“By association you can also add any of the Weasley’s to the list I suppose. If Ron or Hermione ever mentioned to any of them your relationship, they all have free access to your home as well,” Dennis noted.

“I really can’t imagine any of these people betraying me in such a way, but I’ve been wrong about people’s character before,” he muttered, thinking about Snape.

Dennis was silent and scanning over his lists repeatedly to make sure there wasn’t someone he missed. “What about Blake, sir. You said he was staying with you when it happened.”

“The hex seemed to have come straight though my bedroom window, but Blake was at our side almost instantly helping to heal Draco’s wounds. I doubt he would cast it, but I can’t be sure,” Harry replied with a groan that turned into a frustrated scream. “Gods, I hate not knowing who I can trust in my own home,” he yelled, causing Dennis to flinch.

“Unfortunately, the list just gets longer if the wards were broken or worked around somehow. People who had a grudge against Draco, or even some rebel who wanted to take out the Minister,” Dennis offered. “It could be anyone.”

“I would prefer it to be a stranger then any of these people,” Harry muttered. “Not that it would help us catch them. Have you heard from Mione?”

Dennis shook his head. “Not since she sent me to you here.”

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. “See if you can find her, please, and have the Aurors round up everyone else on the list for questioning. Draco should be well enough to leave tomorrow night and I can conduct secondary interviews with all of them then.”

“You want me to have everyone held until tomorrow night, sir?” Dennis asked.

“Yes. Don’t bring anyone in until tomorrow though, just have them all watched so that if it is one of them, they don’t get spooked and bolt. Leave them alone for tonight though,” Harry amended.

“Would you like me to bring you back dinner?” Dennis asked before making his exit.

“No, I don’t think I could eat right now,” he replied, resuming his watchful gaze over Draco. He heard the door close behind his assistant and he let his head fall into the crook of Draco’s neck. “What am I going to do? What if it really was someone on that list? How could I send Ron… or Hermione to prison after everything we’ve gone through?” Harry quietly sobbed into his shoulder.

He knew that things between them were shaky lately, but Harry had faith that in a few years, they would all get past it and be friends again, probably not like it was before, because too much had changed for all of them, but better than this.

Could Ron do this? He had seen the anger in the redhead’s eyes when he saw him and Draco together. Would he hurt him over it? Or worse, could Ron be part of The Code?

“You’ll do what’s right,” a voice rasped against his forehead, and Harry bolted upright to look into the shining silver eyes of Draco, finally awake again.

“What?” Harry asked, unsure what his words had meant.

“No matter what your crisis is, you’ll do the right thing. You always do,” Draco rasped again, and Harry smiled as he passed him a glass of water.

Draco drank deeply from the cup and handed it back. “So what is your dilemma? I assume it has to do with the reason I’m in St. Mungo’s?”

Harry nodded. “Someone tried to kill one of us, but right now the list of suspects is fairly short.”

“Blake,” Draco said with a curt nod.

Harry stiffened and his eyes went wide. “Did you see him hex you?” Harry asked, wondering if he should call Kingsley and have the team go after him at once.

“No, no nothing like that. I just hate the guy,” Draco replied with a wry grin.

Harry rolled his eyes and relaxed again. “I’m sure he hates you more right now.”

Draco cocked a blonde eyebrow in question. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Well, he injured his knee really bad during practice while we were dating. He was in the hospital for two days re-growing bone and I never visited him once,” Harry said regretfully. “I was a terrible boyfriend to him.”

“How long have I been here?” Draco asked, suddenly panicked.

“Only today, you were hit this morning,” Harry soothed.

Draco seemed to relax slightly, though he was obviously trying not to move, and when he did he winced quite a bit. “So have you been here the whole time?”

Harry nodded.

“Does that make me special?” Draco asked softly.

Harry nodded again, smiling slightly.

“How special?” Draco asked with a smirk of his own.

A slow but powerful smile widened across Harry’s face as he pressed his lips forcefully against Draco’s and felt him respond in a burning kiss. A soft moan escaped Draco’s throat and Harry bit lightly on his bottom lip. He ran his fingers gently through Draco’s pale hair and carefully avoided putting any pressure on his abdomen.

When they broke apart for air, Draco looked cautious. “So last night… it wasn’t just a dream right?” he asked tentatively.

“No. It wasn’t,” Harry confirmed, but then hesitated. “Did you want it to be?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I said dream, not nightmare, Potter. Really, pay attention would you?” he teased.

“The healer says you’ll be fit to go home tomorrow,” Harry began.

“And home would be?” Draco asked, a sudden pink blush coloring his cheeks.

“I suppose that’s up to you,” Harry responded. “Though, I would like you to stay with me until we find out who attacked us.”

“Because that worked so well last time,” Draco muttered, looking down at where he felt the gash in his skin to be.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, Draco,” Harry whispered, looking utterly defeated.

“Bullocks. I’ve been telling you all along, it’s not your job to protect me. Maybe you should come stay with me,” he offered with a wink.

“Well… Grimmauld Place might be a crime scene for a little while,” Harry replied thoughtfully. “And if someone attacks us at your place it would eliminate… no one from the list,” he added bitterly.

“Why not?” Draco asked.

“Because everyone on the list has the brains and the resources to find out where you live. Maybe we should stay someplace else altogether,” Harry mused.

“We could stay with my mother,” Draco offered, and then looked instantly regretful. “Though I’m not sure how well you would go over with her. She’s known about my preference for men for some time now, but not my preference for you,” he joked, yet Harry had the suspicion it wasn’t a joke at all.

“Why don’t you write to her and see what she says. I can have Dennis make us other arrangements if needed,” Harry said.

“Seriously?” Draco shouted in surprise. “You really want to stay with my mother? Isn’t it too soon in our relationship to be meeting the parents?”

Harry laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve already met your mother, Draco, and you’ll never have the awkward first date conversation with mine.”

Draco winced. “I’m so sorry, Harry. That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s okay. For what it’s worth, I think they would have loved you,” Harry told him, and then wondered if he were speaking the truth. No one else seemed to love him with Draco, would his parents have done so? “Now, back to this relationship you spoke of earlier,” Harry teased.

“Relationship? Did I say that? Oh, you mean the part when I implied that you were all mine and I’m not sharing?” Draco asked with a smug grin.

“I think it was more along the lines of you telling me you loved me,” Harry replied with an equally smug grin.

Draco shrugged. “I’d say anything to get you into bed, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he started to back away until Draco began laughing, and then wincing from the pain the laughing caused him. “See, that’s what you get for teasing the Minister for Magic,” Harry mocked gently, all the while checking Draco’s wound to make sure it was still healing properly.

“Dually noted,” Draco muttered and took several deep breaths to move past the ache in his gut. “I do, though,” he said at last.

“You do what?” Harry asked, still distracted by Draco’s pain.

“Love you,” Draco said. “Always have.”

Harry locked onto Draco’s smoldering gray eyes and tried to find the joke in his statement but found nothing. “What?”

Draco only nodded. “I didn’t really know it back in school of course, but once I knew that I preferred men, I realized at once that that was why I always fought with you. Part of it was jealousy, and part of it was the fact that you were on the wrong side of the war, but I think most of it was just sexual tension.”

“The wrong side?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“Caught that did you?” he replied.

Harry kissed his forehead. “Maybe I’ve been in love with you all this time too,” he mused.

A subtle smirk played across Draco’s lips. “How could you not have been?”

“Incorrigible,” Harry whispered before kissing him again. “Move over,” he muttered, but used his wand to gently levitate him an inch or two to the side instead, and he climbed into the bed beside Draco, wrapping his arms carefully around him.

“Maybe they’ll just rent us a room here in the hospital,” Draco whispered against Harry’s cheek. “Then I don’t need to go and see mother after all.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Harry whispered back, a flick of his wand dousing the lights in the room.

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” Draco whined, but Harry felt him yawn only seconds later and smiled to himself as they both drifted off to sleep.

Authors Note: yay, Draco's awake. For reviewing this chapter you'll get more smut in the next one...