A Dark Time For The Light
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
103
Views:
9,590
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
103
Views:
9,590
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Harry Potter-verse and make no money from the writing of this fic
4
4
The white Transit van was speeding through the backstreets of East London, taking the crew of workers home, dropping them at various points. The gang’s newest member was gazing out through the back window, daydreaming. He hated living such a double life, but he couldn’t come out as a Magic-user to his workmates. They’d laugh him out of town. He kept his head down, worked hard, was well paid and returned to the Bunker every night, pretending he returned to a lonely bed-sit.
They turned into the old Jamaica road and laughed at the scrubby old hookers, waving V-signs until the lad at the back of the van screamed “STOP”. The driver, Cellan, said, “Are you mad, you bastard. You don’t want any of those scrubbers. Ten quid crack whores. If you need one o’ them. I can show you the best place”. “No. Just stop. I think I know one of ‘em”. The driver stopped and undid the back door, letting his colleague out. “You’re takin’ yer life in yer hands, y’know that, don’t you?. Use a johnny and we’ll see ya tomorra, yeah?”. They drove away amidst cackles of laughter.
He cautiously approached the gaggle of women, who checked him out as he approached, “Lookin’ fer a good time?”, one of them leered. He walked through the pack to the girl slumped against the wall untying a length of cloth from around her wasted bicep, a needle full of bloody fluid at her side.
A thick-set man approached him. He turned, “How much for this one?. A whole night?”. The man kicked her casually, “She’s no good to you now, mate. There’s lots of others, how about Josie, now?”, he pulled a saucy bottle-blonde into his side, her face raddled from her habit. The young man shook his head, “I want this one. How much?”. “A ton, take her away”. The young man paid over the price without a murmur.
The pimp kicked the girl slumped over, “Come on, Janey, you got a job to do girl. Better move your arse, otherwise Petey’s gonna get mighty pissed off”. He reached down and hauled the girl to her feet. She had a slack face, a slight smile as the drug coursed through her. It took her a moment to focus on her client. Then her eyes widened as the young man led her away under the railway arches.
She stopped and pulled the boy towards her in the shadows under the bridge, “C’mon”, she slurred, “Don’t you want a taste of what you’ve paid for”. “No, I bloody well do not, Hermione. I want to take you to somewhere safer. Would you like to see Ron again?. Your best friend”. The boy was holding her tight and Hermione/Jane was confused. He’d used her real name. She recognised him. She just wished she could remember where from.
“Who are you?”.
He pressed her to the wall and took her face in his hands, “Hermione, it’s me. Dean Thomas. Only now I am with the Underground, the Resistance. Join us. Come with me”. Even through the haze of her latest hit she could feel the truth in his words. She hung her head, “You don’t want me. I’m trouble. I need... stuff. I’m an addict. Is Ginny there?”.
He shook his head, “But Ron is. Hell, he’s pretty much running the show. Come with me, Hermione. We’ll get you off this stuff. We need you. You’re the smartest witch of your generation. Come on, let me take you there”.
He hefted the girl against his side, holding her up. They wended their way, in and out of railway arches until Dean rapped a complicated knock on a random door halfway along the underside of a railway tunnel. Eventually he was answered, “Sorry about the lack of prior Auror dowses but fetch Ron Weasley. He needs to see this”, as Hermione nodded out at his side.
She felt soft but strong arms wrap around her as she collapsed. She heard soft murmurs kissed into her hair, “’Mione, oh, my ‘Mione. We’ve found you. You came back”. She barely registered Ron’s voice in her ear as she let blackness take over.
The white Transit van was speeding through the backstreets of East London, taking the crew of workers home, dropping them at various points. The gang’s newest member was gazing out through the back window, daydreaming. He hated living such a double life, but he couldn’t come out as a Magic-user to his workmates. They’d laugh him out of town. He kept his head down, worked hard, was well paid and returned to the Bunker every night, pretending he returned to a lonely bed-sit.
They turned into the old Jamaica road and laughed at the scrubby old hookers, waving V-signs until the lad at the back of the van screamed “STOP”. The driver, Cellan, said, “Are you mad, you bastard. You don’t want any of those scrubbers. Ten quid crack whores. If you need one o’ them. I can show you the best place”. “No. Just stop. I think I know one of ‘em”. The driver stopped and undid the back door, letting his colleague out. “You’re takin’ yer life in yer hands, y’know that, don’t you?. Use a johnny and we’ll see ya tomorra, yeah?”. They drove away amidst cackles of laughter.
He cautiously approached the gaggle of women, who checked him out as he approached, “Lookin’ fer a good time?”, one of them leered. He walked through the pack to the girl slumped against the wall untying a length of cloth from around her wasted bicep, a needle full of bloody fluid at her side.
A thick-set man approached him. He turned, “How much for this one?. A whole night?”. The man kicked her casually, “She’s no good to you now, mate. There’s lots of others, how about Josie, now?”, he pulled a saucy bottle-blonde into his side, her face raddled from her habit. The young man shook his head, “I want this one. How much?”. “A ton, take her away”. The young man paid over the price without a murmur.
The pimp kicked the girl slumped over, “Come on, Janey, you got a job to do girl. Better move your arse, otherwise Petey’s gonna get mighty pissed off”. He reached down and hauled the girl to her feet. She had a slack face, a slight smile as the drug coursed through her. It took her a moment to focus on her client. Then her eyes widened as the young man led her away under the railway arches.
She stopped and pulled the boy towards her in the shadows under the bridge, “C’mon”, she slurred, “Don’t you want a taste of what you’ve paid for”. “No, I bloody well do not, Hermione. I want to take you to somewhere safer. Would you like to see Ron again?. Your best friend”. The boy was holding her tight and Hermione/Jane was confused. He’d used her real name. She recognised him. She just wished she could remember where from.
“Who are you?”.
He pressed her to the wall and took her face in his hands, “Hermione, it’s me. Dean Thomas. Only now I am with the Underground, the Resistance. Join us. Come with me”. Even through the haze of her latest hit she could feel the truth in his words. She hung her head, “You don’t want me. I’m trouble. I need... stuff. I’m an addict. Is Ginny there?”.
He shook his head, “But Ron is. Hell, he’s pretty much running the show. Come with me, Hermione. We’ll get you off this stuff. We need you. You’re the smartest witch of your generation. Come on, let me take you there”.
He hefted the girl against his side, holding her up. They wended their way, in and out of railway arches until Dean rapped a complicated knock on a random door halfway along the underside of a railway tunnel. Eventually he was answered, “Sorry about the lack of prior Auror dowses but fetch Ron Weasley. He needs to see this”, as Hermione nodded out at his side.
She felt soft but strong arms wrap around her as she collapsed. She heard soft murmurs kissed into her hair, “’Mione, oh, my ‘Mione. We’ve found you. You came back”. She barely registered Ron’s voice in her ear as she let blackness take over.