Memoirs of a Male Escort

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Laurel who helped kick my arse into shape for this chapter and the next! Also, if anyone would like to know about updates and/or new projects you can find me on Facebook or my Yahoo Group (see my profile for details). Also (and this is the last Also I swear) for those of you who haven't already noticed, I posted two new stories -Becoming & Trophy. You should check them out because they are already new favorites of mine.

Chapter 24 Sense and Sensitivity

Liar, deceiver, scoundrel, cheat -they are all such ugly words really, words I’d rather not have used to describe me, but desperate times call for desperate measures. As unseemly as being thought of as all those things might be, it’s far worse to realize that you’re utterly alone in this world.

Whoever it was that said ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’ clearly had never lost their soul mate.

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Harry was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he scanned yet another mundane document that he had to veto or approve. This time someone was trying to create a wizarding law which stated that persons were not allowed to fly over muggle inhabited areas without a license. It was rubbish really because there were few, if any, areas that were completely devoid of muggles altogether.

He grabbed his giant veto stamp and relished in the loud thud it made as he slammed it into the document’s surface and then signed his name below the garish red ink in his own messy scrawl.

After two more vetoes –one proposing to make it illegal to wear purple on Thursday’s and another that wished to ban the use of magical fireworks- and a reluctant approval for a new development space in London to expand Diagon Alley, there was a brief knock on his door and then Dennis’ face poked through.

“I have new messages, sir. Would you like them now or should I return after lunch?” he asked professionally.

“I could use a break,” Harry sighed and motioned for his assistant to come in and sit. Dennis obliged and at once began consulting his clipboard.

“Your meeting this evening with Delores Turner was confirmed, you got an owl from Arthur and Molly Weasley requesting your presence at this Sunday’s dinner and you have gotten four owls and one visit from Mr. Malfoy,” he recited before looking up, preparing to be lectured.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry declined to comment on the Draco appearances and instead focused on the legitimate messages. “Excellent,” he replied at last, noting the visible confusion on his assistant’s face. “Make sure I’m gone by six so that I don’t miss that meeting with Madame Turner, and tell the Weasley’s that I’ll be joining them this Sunday and that I look forward to it.”

Dennis scribbled Harry’s answers beside the messages and then looked up at his boss expectantly. Harry however, went back to work and began stamping more documents until Dennis cleared his throat. “And Mr. Malfoy, sir? What would you like me to do about him?”

Harry sighed and leaned back into his chair. He wasn’t ready to talk to his ex just yet and wasn’t even certain that he ever would be ready. He knew in a way it seemed petty to break up over what had happened at the hospital, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Draco had been false with him and furthermore saw Harry as just another shallow bloke who had never cared about him. It seemed as though nothing they had shared had meant anything to Draco and that his words of love fell on deaf ears. It was a painful realization to find out that he was in love with someone who felt vastly different than he did and he just needed it to end before he got even more involved and even more hurt.

Even more it killed a part of Harry to know that he wasn’t able to protect Draco from harm in the first place. He reasoned that it would only happen again if he were to try again with the beautiful blonde because as Minister, he was always someone’s target for anger. He decided that it would be for the best for both of them that he try to forget Draco altogether. “Just ignore him, eventually he’ll get the hint and leave me alone,” he advised at last.

“I’m not sure about that, sir. He’s very persistent,” Dennis corrected.

“He’s also very wrong for me and vice versa and soon he’ll get bored and move on,” Harry replied. “Just incendio the owl messages and if he shows up again, tell him I’m out.”

“Yes, sir,” Dennis replied reluctantly and left the office.

“He told me to tell you he’s not here,” Dennis told Draco, who was sitting in a chair just outside Harry’s office door. The man visibly slumped and Dennis felt a pang of pity for the usually overbearingly difficult Malfoy.

“What if I just went in there,” Draco countered, standing up as if he would just barge into the Minister’s office.

“I’d stop you,” Dennis said honestly. “It’s my job,” he added when Draco gave him a look that resembled an injured puppy.

“And my owls?” Draco asked, pointing to the pile of parchment scrolls covering Dennis’s desk.

“I’m to burn them,” he answered.

“Does he really hate me so much that he won’t even trouble himself to read my apologies?” Draco demanded, the hurt on his face doubling.

Dennis sighed and patted the sullen man in the shoulder. This was by no means his area of expertise and it was certainly not part of his job description to console the Minister’s ex boyfriends, but he had been put to all sorts of unusual tasks ever since Harry had returned from rescuing Draco and capturing the members of the Code. “He doesn’t hate you, he’s just… upset. I think he’s afraid you’ll break his heart again,” he reasoned.

“Can you get him to read even one of the letters?” Draco asked in a voice that was more like pleading than Dennis had ever heard it.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promised and meant it. At this point he would do anything to keep his Minister out of the slow downward spiral he was in at the moment.

“I don’t care what anyone else says, Dennis. You’re a good man,” Draco remarked with a clap on the back and then left.

“Wait,” Dennis called after him, but Draco didn’t turn around. “What are people saying about me?”

He swore he heard a faint laugh from Malfoy’s general direction and huffed as he slipped a couple of the man’s love notes into Harry’s next batch of documents. Knowing the Minister, Dennis suspected he would get halfway through reading the letter before he even realized what it was.

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“Madame Turner, thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Harry greeted as he made his way into the gaudily decorated office.

“Mr. Potter, is it?” she replied and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“Please, call me Harry,” he replied and took a seat on the end of a very ostentatious lipstick red chaise.

“Harry, then. I’m sure you understand why I prefer to meet my new clients in person before we pair them with one of our escorts. Not only is it the ideal method for security reasons, it also helps me determine which of my men would be best matched to your needs,” she informed him lightly.

Madame Turner was a muggle who did roughly the same thing as Madame X. Harry had decided to swear off of wizards for a bit and wanted something much more casual, something he could control but something that would keep him from sleeping alone at night. When it turned out that even his best friends had betrayed him he knew he couldn’t be too careful and dating another wizard would be more trouble than it was worth.

The woman sitting across from him now was fairly well known in the muggle community and only occasionally took on new clients, but Harry had assured her that money was no object and with some falsified muggle credentials he was in.

“I understand perfectly,” he replied and tried not to stare too long at the way her lips pursed like a fish when she wasn’t speaking. She was a bit of a cliché really, wearing a short but very tight skirt and a leopard print blouse. She was very angular and thin and her graying hair looked slightly unwashed, as if she had been out working a street corner before their meeting. It made him hesitant to see what kind of people she had under her employ.

“Good, now if you don’t mind me asking, what does an exceptionally handsome man such as yourself need with an escort?” she asked, and though her words were pleasant, her eyes were hungry.

“It’s hard for me to meet people in my line of work,” he lied. He had already done several interviews with nearby agencies and they were all the same. “I’m very busy.”

“What is it you do?” she asked.

“I’m in government,” he replied with a tight smile. His answer shut her up, as he knew it would.

“Say no more,” she cooed and pulled out a large binder. After placing it in front of Harry, she opened it to one of the back pages. “Now, previously you mentioned money not being an object, and I must tell you this is our best performer,” she told him, pointing to a man in the book.

He was tall and Italian looking with bronzed skin and a heavily muscled chest. His hair was black and cropped short and he was the opposite of what Harry was looking for. Not that the man wasn’t obscenely attractive, he just wasn’t Harry’s type.

“To be honest I prefer more of a lean build,” Harry said, “and blonde,” he added before he could stop himself. He certainly didn’t want to end up with a clone of Draco, but his ex had been his ideal match, physically, and it was hard to stray too far from those qualities he had always admired.

“I see,” she replied, pulling the book back over and flipping through it as she scanned the pages. Each profile was for a man who less and less fit Harry’s ideal and eventually she put the book away and frowned. “This is slightly unorthodox, but I do have a match that I think might work for you. He’s new however, just signed on for a probationary period this week, so I don’t have an official profile on him yet, nor has he been assigned to anyone so far. I wouldn’t normally match a new escort with a new client, but I’ve seen him and he fits your ideal better than any of my current escorts, and although he’s new, he’s very polished,” she added hopefully.

“Er,” Harry began, feeling as though he didn’t want to chance it, but she cut him off with a predatory smile.

“I can get others who would fit your preference, but it will take some time. If you’d like to try Leo in the meantime I can set it up for this weekend and if you’re unhappy I’ll give you a full credit toward your next appointment,” she offered, clearly not wanting to see Harry leave.

“His name is Leo?” Harry asked with a laugh, thinking that perhaps it was meant to be, and when she nodded he held out his hand. “I think we have a deal then.”

The arrangements were made fairly quickly and Harry left with a new spring to his step. Knowing that the following weekend would not be spent pining after Draco and instead in new company that he had total control over made him more content than he had been in weeks.

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Harry answered the door and marveled at the man in his entryway.

He was taller than Harry, but only by a little and every centimeter was tanned and only slightly muscled. He had thick blonde hair and a charming smile and though he was no Draco, he was still remarkable to look at.

“My name’s Leo,” he introduced and Harry ushered him in, chuckling at the name again and then chuckling further at the fact that Leo would have no clue why he found the name humorous. Clearly he couldn’t tell the man that ‘Leo’ reminded him of his old magic school mascot.

“So where do we begin? The man asked, winking at Harry suggestively. “Do you prefer the bedroom or are you more of an outside the box kind of guy?”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and gestured at the sofa. “How about we start there,” he replied and watched the man smile slightly.

He had a nice smile, pearly and straight just like Draco’s but he quickly wiped those thoughts away and took a seat on the sofa patting the place next to him. Leo joined him at once and leaned in to begin undressing Harry with practiced ease.

With his own practiced movements Harry halted him.

“What kind of movies do you like?” he asked, nearly laughing out loud at Leo’s surprise. It always was the most fun of the evening when he asked them some mundane and unexpected question.

“Er, I like all kinds I suppose,” Leo replied at last, when it was clear Harry didn’t intend to shed clothing any time soon.

Harry smiled wickedly and knelt at the cabinet under his muggle television and flipped though his stack of movies until he found what he was looking for and popped it into the player. Afterward he returned to the sofa and settled in against Leo’s chest.

He silently mused on how comfortable he felt there and thought it odd that while Leo’s breathing was steady, his heart was beating frantically. “Do you hire escorts often?” Leo asked before the movie started.

Harry only nodded and began to fast forward through the previews.

“And is this all that you do?” he asked, looking curiously at Harry.

“Sometimes we have meals together, sometimes we play cards,” Harry replied with a laugh. “But we never have sex if that was going to be your next question.”

“It was,” Leo admitted. “It seems someone like you shouldn’t have to pay for this kind of thing. You’re very handsome, and you seem sweet, wouldn’t you just rather have a boyfriend?”

Harry’s eyes darkened and he shook his head. “I’d rather pay for the quiet comfort that this brings me than get a broken heart for free,” he reasoned.

“I take it you’ve been burned before?” Leo asked, an intriguing curiosity in his blue eyes.

“Once or twice,” Harry confirmed, looking his guest over carefully, thinking that they sure had sent over a chatty one this time.

“Someone recent?” he asked and Harry nodded. “Did you love him?”

Harry frowned and then sighed heavily. He hadn’t really discussed his relationship or break up with Draco to anyone, but maybe it would be good to get the blonde out of his system. “I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone,” he sighed.

“What happened?” Leo asked, seemingly eager for more gossip.

“He wasn’t the person I thought he was,” Harry told him.

“Who did you think he was?” the man replied with yet another question.

With another sigh, Harry leaned back against his side of the sofa and Leo pulled his feet into his lap and began rubbing them while Harry spoke. “I thought he was honest, funny, clever and more stubborn and persistent than even me. The trouble is, he thought I only wanted him for his looks, which I could care less about. I thought he knew me. The first night we went out I fell for him almost instantly as he recited back nearly word for word who I was and what I was looking for, but I should have known then that it was all a lie,” Harry remarked bitterly. “He was an escort after all, and you guys all just say whatever you think you’re supposed to right?”

Leo shrugged elegantly. “Some of us, but how do you know he didn’t mean it?”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “You should have heard what he said to me the day I broke things off.”

“Maybe he was having a bad day, maybe he doesn’t normally think about his looks until they’re threatened to be taken from him,” Leo offered, and Harry nodded.

“Maybe,” he muttered and then looked up quickly at the stranger holding his feet. “Except I never said his looks were being threatened,” Harry noted and stood abruptly as the stranger looked suitably chagrined.

“Who the hell are you?” Harry demanded angrily and watched as the man, who was supposed to be a muggle, pulled out a wand and waved it carefully over himself.

“Draco?” Harry snapped, leveling his own wand at the now familiar blonde’s chest. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“You won’t return my owls, you have your assistant tell me you’re out of the office when I stop by and you’re never at your usual places anymore. Then I remembered that Hermione mentioned you used to hire out muggle escorts and I thought maybe I could find a way to see you,” Draco replied defensively.

“So what, you think if you can’t find a way to shag me as you that you’ll pretend to be someone else? Is that all we were, Malfoy? Was I just sex to you?” he demanded.

Draco shook his head viciously and rounded on his ex. “Merlin no, Harry! I hadn’t even planned on it at all, but when you opened the door, gods you look so good, Harry and I miss you so much.”

Harry rolled his eyes and pointed at the door. “Well, you’ve seen me, so you can bugger off now.”

“We need to talk, Harry. Please, just listen to me,” Draco begged, but Harry walked away, back toward the kitchens and when Draco tried to follow, he found the way barred. With a swift and angry movement he smashed his fist against the locked door and screamed wordlessly into the air.

“Harry, I fucking love you, will you please give me another chance,” he shouted but no answer came. He sunk to the floor and waited for nearly an hour for Harry to reemerge, but he never did. Draco left then, having lost all hope of ever winning Harry back.

The night had gone much differently than he had planned and perhaps it was his own naivety that made him imagine that Harry might react differently to him in person than he had in his other attempts to contact him. Still, it hurt desperately to know that Harry was able to shut him out of his heart so easily when Draco on the other hand was incapable of forgetting any nuance of his former lover’s face or body or voice.

It didn’t seem fair, but then he didn’t know that Harry was, in that same moment, pacing in his bedroom, his nails gouging half-moons into his palm as he tried to discourage himself from running down to meet Draco’s cries.

Harry’s mind refused to let go of Draco as well but he just couldn’t stomach the idea of falling all over again only to be left wanting for something that wasn’t really there. He didn’t want to be left with only the hopeful ideals of a lovesick man pining after the Draco that he wanted to be with, now knowing that person didn’t actually exist. It felt as though the Draco he loved was just a figment of his own wants and desires and nothing more.