Memoirs of a Male Escort

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Laurel (DreamingInColour) who beta'd this story for me not once, but twice! lol. Beware, the end is near!

Chapter 23 Superficial

You’ve only got maybe twenty good years in you with this profession, maybe twenty-five if you’re lucky and have killer genetics. No one wants to sleep with a past-his-prime escort, if they wanted that they would have just stayed home and shagged their wife. No matter what you do, looks fail eventually and then you’re out.

My advice is to make the most of your youth, because once you’re ugly, you might as well be dead.

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Draco knew that he should be more grateful to Harry for saving his life; he knew he should also be happy with his boyfriend’s kind words, but he couldn’t seem to muster up any positive emotions when he knew what had become of his face. It would only be a matter of time before Harry found someone less hideous that could make him equally happy if not more so than Draco could.

He’d always been able to rely on his looks. He might not be clever enough or strong enough or powerful enough, but when all else failed he was always pretty enough. Draco knew he wasn’t handsome, that word was used to describe people like Harry with his strong square jaw and five o’clock shadow; he was handsome and tragically so. But not Draco, no he was slightly feminine in a way that stood out through his fair blonde hair and his softly pointed features.

That was before, though. Now he was a monster, and no one wanted to make love to a monster. Especially someone like Harry who could have any witch or wizard he wanted. Call it insecure, but Draco knew his place in the world and it revolved primarily around his looks. That was what made him money and that was what landed him the world’s most eligible wizard, whether he admitted it or not.

He could feel Harry drawing slow circles on his back, absently touching him while he spoke with the Healer. Normally Draco might feel a smug satisfaction at knowing Harry wanted to be constantly touching him, but today instead he felt prematurely angry at the loss he was determined would happen when Harry stopped feeling that way toward him.

As it was, Draco knew his condition was too new and that they were still too much in shock for Harry to have yet come to the realization that he was dating a freakishly ugly man. But the realization would come and Draco had to prepare himself for it, and distance himself from it.

“So what did this to your skin, Mr. Malfoy?” the Healer asked once all pleasantries had been cleared away.

“A dark curse of some kind surely, I don’t know which. They used a non-verbal spell,” he admitted.

He saw the Healer wince and knew what the man was thinking. “I’m aware that you can’t heal me, dark magic is impossible to heal.”

“Not, impossible, Mr. Malfoy, but certainly difficult and will rarely bring you back one hundred percent to your original state. As it is though, the wounds are superficial, so no fatal damage has been done,” he remarked.

Draco laughed harshly and ignored Harry’s application of firm pressure on his back. He could make a scene if he wished; it was his face after all.

“We’ll see what we can do to make you comfortable before we start treatment, shall we?” the Healer asked and a mediwitch came in while Harry left the room to speak with the Healer.

Normally Draco found that anywhere he went, even in the wizarding world, staff were polite to him, even sweet, despite his past, just because he was beautiful. But Draco didn’t fail to notice that this time the mediwitch wouldn’t even look at him as she set up his bed and laid out a comfortable cotton dressing gown.

She left without a word and Draco winced at the fact that not even people paid to be polite to him would do so.

Before he was able to slip out of the robe Harry had transfigured for him and into the one left on his bed, the door opened and an unlikely face popped in. “Where’s Mr. Potter?” Dennis asked, cringing as Draco turned around and he saw the full extent of his injuries.

“He left with the Healer,” Draco muttered and Dennis ducked out of the room again without another word.

Draco changed and tried to get comfortable on the bed provided but couldn’t seem to settle his mind. All the different ways he could imagine Harry breaking up with him kept coming to the surface of his mind making him so fitful that when Harry walked back into the room, Draco nearly broke up with him right then just to save himself the heartache.

There was nothing for it though as Harry looked like he had a bigger purpose in mind. “Great news,” he began and Draco rolled his eyes. The news couldn’t possibly be all that great.

Harry handed him a piece of parchment and Draco read it over and over again, a slow smile forming on his face.

“I thought you’d be happy,” Harry noted and hugged his lover tightly.

Draco could hardly believe it. The note was from Hermione and on it listed every single spell used on Draco while he was captive. None of them were dark, because apparently that was something Hermione had insisted on, and were instead only modified versions of simple household charms. The one Ron has used on his face was more often used by stay-at-home witches in scrap booking to make decorative edges on the paper.

Further down on the paper was the counter spell to each one. Draco tried one of them on a scar decorating his hand and laughed out loud when the mark disappeared.

“Feel better?” Harry asked playfully.

“Of course I do. I was just in here imagining all the ways you would break my heart when you left me and now I don’t have to worry. I’ll look just as dashing as I did before,” he added with a wink, but Harry’s face fell.

“What?” he asked softly, extracting his hands form Draco’s.

“Come on, Harry. We both know why you were attracted to me,” Draco informed him tentatively, unsure as to why Harry chose now, when things were looking brighter, to become angry.

“Dammit, Draco. Is that what you think of me? That I’m some shallow prat who would dump you because your looks changed?” he barked.

“They didn’t just change, Harry. It’s not as though I put on some weight or got a new haircut. Look at me, Harry, I mean really look at me. Would you honestly want to wake up to this face every morning?” he demanded.

Harry didn’t reply with words, instead he grabbed Draco’s face with both his hands and fell against him in one of the most passionate kisses that the boys had ever shared, leaving Draco breathless and yearning for more. “You’re right,” he said at last, looking as though a sorrowful weight had been placed on his shoulders. “I wouldn’t want to wake up next to a vain arse who thinks so lowly of me.”

With that Harry shot him a broken look and left the room. Draco called after him but Harry never turned around again and he never came back to the hospital while Draco was there. In fact, what Draco didn’t realize at that moment was how badly he had botched things and that it would be a very long time before he saw Harry Potter again.

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Harry went straight to the Ministry and paced up and down the length of his office. He’d been thinking about Draco and his friends and he knew he had to do something, but what could he do? The answer came unbidden to him when Hermione’s note had arrived at St. Mungo’s. Even alone in her cell she thought of him and what she could do to help. It seemed only right that he return the favor this one last time.

As he made his way down the corridor that held the members of the Code, he realized he didn’t even care if he was caught or even if he was sacked. He had resigned himself to the position of Minister, but never really cared for it.

He was still furious at Draco’s behavior and the fact that he had been fooled into thinking Draco was the real thing. All along he was just as shallow and phony as Harry had presumed him to be in school.

“Afternoon, Minister,” the guard called from his desk at the front of the hall.

“Afternoon,” Harry greeted in return and shook the man’s hand. “Can you tell me which cells you placed Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley in?”

“Sure, uh, they’re in the same cell, number two-twenty, Sir,” he answered after scanning the scroll on his desk.

“Excellent, can you run up and get Kingsley for me, please. Tell him I’m ready to start the interrogations,” Harry replied and headed toward cell number two-twenty.

He gazed through the small barred window at his former best friends, people who had given him so much but had fallen so far from who they used to be. Though perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. Even as children they were all getting in over their heads and breaking rules left and right, all in the name of the greater good. Hell, even Harry had used an unforgivable on a Death Eater for simply spitting on his mentor. The problem, Harry realized wasn’t even what his friends had been doing that hurt him the most; it was the lies.

They knew that Harry had lost countless hours of sleep trying to catch the Code, even ruined relationships with the time he spent away trying to capture the people who were seeking their vigilante justice. All the while his two best friends were running the show behind his back, feeding him false leads and probably laughing the whole time.

If they had but told him, Harry could have provided them legal channels to seek their justice on the Death Eaters.

As it was, he was left with only one option, and he hoped they took it, for all their sakes. Harry couldn’t live with himself if he was forced to send his best friends to that awful prison.

With a wave of his wand the door clicked open and Hermione and Ron both looked up in unison, a mixture of relief and sorrow painted their faces.

“Harry,” Hermione began and stood to walk over to him. “I’m so sorry for all of this, did you get my note?” she asked.

Harry nodded and raised his hand to silence her. “Thanks for that, Draco should be fine in no time.”

She sighed in obvious relief. “I just want you to know that we were wrong, and we know it. We just want you to be happy, Harry, and we know now that Draco can do that. We didn’t mean to take it so far.”

“Well, it seems you were right the first time. Turns out Draco wasn’t exactly who I thought he was. Though it was still no reason to attack him,” Harry warned.

“What?” Ron asked from his spot on the floor.

“We broke up at St. Mungo’s. He accused me of only being with him for his looks. I can’t be with someone who knows so little about me,” Harry sighed.

“But, Harry,” Hermione started to protest, but Harry cut her off.

“I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to get you two out,” Harry told them and handed them both their wands, which he had kept apart form the others and withheld from Kingsley.

“No, Harry we can’t. You’ll get into trouble,” Ron protested.

“You have children at home who need you, get them and go as far away as you can. You won’t be able to set foot in England ever again, do you hear me?” Harry asked seriously.

“I know you’re sorry and I wish I could say that I forgive you, but this is the best I can do, so please, just go, okay?” he asked.

“Ginny?” Ron asked briefly, but Harry shook his head.

“I can’t do this for her. She used the Killing Curse, Ron,” Harry noted. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it for Ron and Hermione, but they had stood beside him through everything; the attacks on his life, the war and the awful nightmares afterward. In a way it was what he felt he needed to do to repay them for that. In light of their betrayal, with this act, Harry considered them all even.

He pressed a small golden coin into Ron’s hand. It was their old Dumbledore’s Army coin that they had in fifth year used to notify the members when they were meeting. It only seemed fitting to use it to spring his friends from yet another time being caught in a secret group.

“It’s a portkey. It’ll activate in a few seconds and take you to the Burrow; your kids are there. As soon as you have them you all have to apparate as far away as you can and keep going. They’ll be able to track you through at least three simultaneous apparitions but it will just keep getting harder after that. Don’t stop unless you have to and get as far away from England as you can,” Harry warned them quickly.

“I don’t know what to say, Harry,” Hermione sobbed and tried to kiss her friend on the cheek but he dodged her and shook his head.

“Don’t say anything, just go,” Harry ordered and as Ron shot him a grateful look and Hermione shouted out ‘give Draco another chance’, they shimmered out of site as the portkey took them to their first destination.

Harry slumped to the floor, finally feeling the weight of the day’s emotions heavy upon his soul. A few minutes later Kingsley walked into the room and gaped at the sight of Harry sans prisoners. “What the hell happened here, Harry?” he asked, looking around frantically.

“They overpowered me,” Harry replied dully, not even caring much that it was the least convincing lie he had ever told. “They went that way I think,” he added, pointing out the door the opposite direction that everyone else had come from.

The other Aurors with Kingsley took off in the direction Harry pointed but Kingsley stayed behind. “Something you would like to tell me, Minister?” he asked when it was just the two of them.

Harry gave him the full weight of his gaze and shrugged. “Is there something you would like to know?”

“Not if it involves our Minister letting two known criminals escape,” he replied honestly.

“Well that’s fortunate, because it merely involves Harry Potter helping his old friends,” Harry noted.

“Well, I hope Harry Potter knows what he’s doing,” Kingsley muttered.

“Me too,” Harry agreed and let the old man pull him up off the floor before they left the cells together.

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Three weeks later Harry was shopping for groceries at the Diagon Alley market. Things had been relatively quiet for him. Kingsley had helped to steer the investigation of Ron and Hermione’s escape away from Harry and they still hadn’t found the couple.

Draco surprisingly hadn’t tried to contact him in that time. Harry thought about going to his flat to check on him, but reasoned that Draco was no longer his responsibility.

He missed him though, more than he thought was possible given the vastly wrong opinion his ex had possessed of him. He couldn’t believe after all their time together that Draco never really knew him at all. After all of the time he had spent trying to cultivate their relationship and then all of the time he had worried about losing Draco, and here he lost him regardless.

Harry got there in time to save his life, but still he lost Draco in the end, just like he lost everyone. Perhaps he was just destined to be alone, paying a Madame for the company that others got for free, but then that hadn’t turned out so well either.

He grabbed a few apples and placed them in his basket when a strange woman came over and stood uncomfortably close to him. “Excuse me,” he greeted and tried to move away.

“Alright, Harry?” she asked, and Harry groaned, thinking he couldn’t even get away from magical folk when he tried to do a bit of muggle shopping.

“I’m fine, just getting some groceries,” he replied.

The woman giggled slightly and shook her head in dismay. “You’re Auror training has flown out the window I see,” she noted mysteriously and Harry’s eyes went wide at the familiar voice in the very unfamiliar body.

“Mione?” he whispered and she nodded.

“I didn’t use cat hair this time,” she said with a wink. “I just wanted to check on you, see how you were holding up,” she told him.

“I’m fine, but you really shouldn’t be here. If the Ministry finds out-” he began but she shook her head.

“They won’t. Now, did you do what I said?” she replied hastily. Harry looked at her in confusion and she simply sighed. “Are you and Draco back together or not?”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, I haven’t spoken to him since the hospital.”

“Harry please don’t mess this up,” she pleaded. “Really, we couldn’t have been more wrong about him. He loves you, Harry.”

He ran a hand through his already messy hair and sighed. “It’s really none of your business, Hermione.”

“Would you just talk to him? What could that cost you?” she persisted.

“I’ll think about it,” he agreed at last; primarily just to get her to hush about it. He was still uncomfortable around her after what she and Ron did. “That’s the best I can do right now.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “But you need to think about it quickly. I want you to be happy, Harry. It’s all any of us ever really wanted. We just lost our way.”

Harry thought about hugging his friend but he just couldn’t bring himself to the level of physical closeness they had once had before her betrayal. Instead he simply wiped away the single tear that leaked from her eye. “Tell Ron I said hello… and the kids too. Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” she promised and squeezed Harry’s arm tightly before exiting the grocery store and leaving Harry to his thoughts of Draco. He didn’t think he was ready to talk to the boy yet, but maybe there was something to what Hermione said. What he did know was that he never felt more alone in his whole life.

Authors Note: DA coins for everyone!