House of Ill-Repute

A/N: Title taken from Half Jack by The Dresden Dolls (The Dresden Dolls, Roadrunner Records, 2003) I haven't written anything close to poetry in probably ten years, so I thought I'd give it a try.

House of Ill-Repute

She finds her boys on street corners and in alleys.

The lost.

The dispossessed.

The abandoned.

She came to them in the dead of night, and extended her hand.

Papery skin so thin it might tear from the lightest touch, but strong.

She takes the boys, and never lets them go.

Draco Malfoy was lost.

He is not sure if She made him found.

Old woman in white, She found him, a shadow of his former self.

She took him from Knockturn Alley and brought him home.

Draco Malfoy was abandoned.

Dirty.

Blood-blushed.

Dead inside.

She gave Draco Malfoy purpose again.

Of a sort.

She asks Draco Malfoy to expose himself.

Draco Malfoy does not say no.

And then the men come.

Rough hands, shadowed faces, coarse voices.

Draco Malfoy cries prettily for them all, and then She puts him back together again.

Draco Malfoy has a purpose, a home, and food in his belly.

Draco Malfoy never complains.

The day He came Draco Malfoy thought he understood his new place in the world.

He changed that for him.

The day He came.

The day He took Draco Malfoy into his arms, and the world fell away.

No longer blood-blushed.

No longer did Draco Malfoy weep in anguish or fear.

Threaded fingers through white, stained bedsheets.

He held Draco Malfoy after.

He rocked Draco Malfoy, and kissed him when he cried.

Draco Malfoy remembered warmth, and something akin to joy.

He took Draco Malfoy from Her.

He asked nothing of Draco Malfoy.

He held Draco Malfoy, and his joy was voiced with one simple word.

“Harry.”

-End