**trigger warning for this chapter!
Falling asleep the night before was a struggle. Draco was lying on his back watching the bedroom ceiling sway as if he was on a boat, every movement caused a wave of sickness to flood over him as he scrunched his eyes shut and slammed the pillow over his face.
The only thing that was worth rising for that morning, was the bottle of hydration elixir that Draco was sure he'd seen somewhere in Harry's cupboards.
As he slowly made his way downstairs, the sound of movement from the kitchen tugged a knot in the pit of his stomach.
"Morning," Harry called, emerging through the doorway with a cup of coffee in one hand and toast in the other. His unruly bed hair was bouncing all over the place, falling over his eyes and bursting out at the back. Harry looked up at Draco on the stairs with a friendly smile, then placed his coffee on the side table, slipping on his shoes. "I'm meeting Ron in ten for a friendly game of Quidditch. Not sure when I'll be home, oh! and there's hangover elixir next to the fridge if you need it."
"Right," Draco uttered, searching for any signs of regret or awkwardness. "Listen, Po-Harry... about last night..."
"Yeah?" Harry looked up from tying his laces, oblivious.
Draco hesitated, holding his tongue in uncertainty, he exhaled and scratched his head, "Thanks for cooking."
"Ah, you're welcome! It was cool, I had a laugh," he stood back up and straightened himself out before patting Draco on the arm with a smile, "Glad we're not at each other's throats anymore, about time, don't you think?"
"Yeah."
"Right, see you later, don't forget the leftovers if you fancy them. Bye." he called, waving out the door and closing it behind him.
Relief flooded over Draco as he slumped down on the bottom step.
No awkwardness, no nervous apologies or uncomfortable silences. No ruined friendship.
Either Harry had no recollection of the incident, or he was bold enough to pretend it never happened, either way, Draco was pleased they could carry on as normal, even though becoming friends and sharing the same house as Harry Potter seemed anything but normal.
He made himself a cup of tea and decided to take it out to the garden as the morning was crisp and bright. He took a seat on the bench under the aspen tree, which was his favourite, even the slightest breeze would make the leaves shimmer like fluttering silk.
The warmth as he sipped filled his body with a sense of calm. The tea was rising him from his sleepy start, as well as the droplets of elixir he'd added, which washed over him like a cool shower but something was gnawing in his chest.
'What the fuck happened last night?', he cringed at the memory
Everything had happened so fast and thanks to the three bottles of wine, he could only remember certain parts. Worrying about eating, feeling weak and vulnerable. Harry smashing the bowls. Harry placing an innocent, drunken peck on his cheek before stumbling away.
That's all it was. Just an overly friendly kiss. Nothing more than that. No hidden agenda or deeper motive. Harry didn't even remember anyway. Things were going to be fine.
***
"Loser buys the drinks then?" Harry teased, squeezing Ron on the shoulders as he pounced up behind him. They'd just left the Quidditch club and were heading to The Rook for an afternoon pint in the beer garden.
"It's not exactly a fair advantage is it, considering you've been playing since you were eleven!" Ron mumbled, shoving Harry playfully on the arm.
"Just means I'll never have to pay for a pint!" Harry boasted
"Alright, next time we meet up we're playing wizards chess, then we'll see who the loser is."
They got their drinks and sat down at one of the rickety old benches in the garden of the pub, the sun was blazing over them and the air felt muggy and thick, the scent of sweetness lingering in the air from all the spilt drinks
Mid-way through their conversation, Seamus and Dean appeared, bowling through the back doors of the pub, drinks in hand. Seamus had barely grown since their last years at Hogwarts, but Dean had shot up. Harry would see them once or twice a month depending on their schedules.
"You've gotta see this!" Seamus cried in his soft Irish accent, grinning from ear to ear with a mischievous smile. He dropped a newspaper down onto the table in front of all of them and spread out the edges to get a clearer view.
Harry furrowed his brow in curiosity, but upon reading the page, his face dropped, chest sinking to the floor.
DRACO MOUTH-OY!
SLYTHERINS' SHOCK PORN PICS
DEATH EATER, 22, FALLEN FROM GRACE AGAIN IN SEX SCANDAL
"No way!" Ron gasped, his mouth gaping open in shock yet a wicked trace of humour hung on his face.
"Bastard's gettin' everything he deserves!" Seamus laughed, "Bet his father wouldn' wanna hear 'bout this!"
The others roared with laughter, but Harry's eyes remained fixed on the paper because there must have been a mistake somewhere, a misprint or an honest explanation behind it all. He flattened the paper with his hand and leaned in closer, reading the text below.
Shocking images have emerged of former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, 22, engaging in sexual relations with two other men in a hotel room. The identities of the two men are currently unknown but are shown in multiple images to be receiving acts of pleasure from Malfoy.
Malfoy was known to have dropped off the radar after his release from Azkaban in March of this year, while his parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, remain in prison, serving life sentences.
Malfoy was stripped of his entitlement to his family's assets during his trial in 1998, leaving him homeless with no finances. He was taken under the Ministry of Magic welfare act. 1998, clause .056, which allowed him rehabilitation and government support under the rule that he does not re-offend. Malfoy stated under oath during his trial that he is no longer associated with the death eaters.
Whether the Ministry will interfere in this matter is currently unknown.
Malfoy is yet to comment on the leak.
Harry couldn't peel his eyes away, a sickness lurched in the pit of his stomach and the beer he'd been drinking felt as though it was rising in his throat.
He'd never been Draco's biggest fan, of course, but to see his personal life spread over the pages of a seedy tabloid left a sour taste in his mouth. It stung. Draco had fallen apart the moment Harry confronted him about his line of work, he couldn't imagine the pain Draco must have felt knowing the entire wizarding world was shaming and ridiculing him, like he hadn't suffered enough.
The images on the paper were fairly grainy, and luckily for Draco, nothing explicit was on full show, merely darkened shadows of bodies in certain positions, after all the tabloid was restricted in the kind of images it was allowed to print. It was easy enough to work out what was going on in the photographs, but not clear enough to see any detail.
"I'm guessing he doesn't have his daddy's fortune to rely on anymore then." Dean smirked, taking a swig of his drink.
"Think his father would disown him if he found out about this!" Seamus howled
Ron chuckled subtly, his arms close to his chest. He looked across at Harry, who was still buried in the paper, his face pained and disbelieving. "Did you know about this?"
"W-What?" Harry peeled his eyes away, still not fully back in the conversation.
"Well, we found out he was... y'know... when we followed him that day. Did he tell you he'd done a bit of porn too?"
"No. He didn't." Harry bit.
"I'd love to see the look on his face when he sees this!" Seamus laughed, but Harry snapped his head up at him, his face stony.
"Don't be such a dick, Seamus."
Seamus lowered his beer, scoffing and looking to Dean for support, "You what?"
"You heard me. I said don't be a dick. Yeah, we might not like Draco much but he's still a human being, with feelings."
"He's a narcissistic, bigoted rich boy, turned death eater. He deserves every bit of karma that's coming to him."
"This is just cruel." Harry spat, shoving the paper back into Seamus' chest and pushing up from his seat. Ron was cowering beside him, whilst Dean shot glances back and forth between them as Seamus glared at Harry, red-cheeked.
"You gone all mushy now he's livin' with ya'?" Seamus taunted
"No," Harry spat, "I just-"
"Gettin' all cosy with the death eater, are we, Harry? Don't go switchin' sides on us now."
Harry bared his teeth on the verge of spitting venom, he glared at all three of them, particularly disappointed with Ron for not stepping to his side. "You know what, I don't feel like drinking today," he poured his beer on the grass and tossed the glass back on the table, "See ya."
***
"Please! Please this hurts!" Draco cried, tugging against the rope that was tearing into his wrists, his voice was raspy. The headboard in front of him was banging against the wall and with every shudder more pain shredded through his skin.
The man in front of him leant down, his eyes frighteningly wild, "I like it tight, now shut your fucking mouth."
Draco groaned and dropped his head back against the headboard as the man continued slamming into him
His wrists were screaming. The bruises under the skin hadn't fully healed and the rope was only causing more damage. He wasn't aroused in the slightest and had to insist on using lubrication to ensure it didn't hurt him more but god how he wanted to scream and cry and tear the ropes from his arms.
Through stifled cries of pain, Draco held on until the man had finished and even when he did he pulled out and sauntered off to the bathroom leaving Draco helpless by himself.
"Please untie me."
The man re-emerged through the doorway, looking at Draco like filth, his eyes flashing dangerously, "I don't pay you to give me orders."
"I'm in pain."
"I don't care. I'll deal with the ropes once I'm showered."
"I said fucking untie me, now!" Draco snapped, his voice trembling. From the moment the words had left his lips, he dropped his head, unable to meet the frightening glare that was boring down over him.
The man turned, eerily slow, glaring down at him, then marched right up to his side and fisted his hand through Draco's hair, pulling his face up forcefully causing Draco to whimper in pain. "You dare fucking speak to me like that,"
In the blink of an eye, Draco felt his head snap to one side before a harsh pain like fire burst across his cheek. It swelled in an instant, throbbing with a dull sting as Draco looked back up at the man towering over him, stunned.
"I'm keeping half the cash, I didn't pay for a selfish little brat."
"I-I-I'm sorry." the words left Draco's mouth in the face of panic, he cringed from the pain and didn't even know why he was saying it. "I'm s-sorry."
There was a pause and the man's fingers relaxed as he let go of Draco's hair. Draco slumped against the headboard, chest heaving as he struggled not to burst into tears, he glanced down at his wasted naked body, disgusted with himself and waited in silence for the hour to be over.
***
Draco didn't have the energy left inside of him to apparate home, he never did anymore, instead he walked, barely functioning, back to the house through the tired streets of London.
He traced his fingers up to his reddened cheek and winced slightly at the sting that sat beneath the sensitive skin. He had to get home before Harry saw the mark on his face, he could use the healing ointment and vanish it away like nothing happened.
The thought of another painful confrontation with Harry loomed over him knowing Harry's saviour complex would sure enough kick it at the first sign on Draco in pain, the broken nose incident was shameful enough, if Harry knew he'd been hit again he would surely get involved and that simply wasn't necessary.
He lowered his head, biting back tears that threatened to well over every time he blinked. His body felt weak against the pushing heat and all he wanted to do was curl into himself and sleep for a lifetime.
His mind was numb and hazed over to the point where he'd walked most of the distance without realising, but his attention was grasped from the corner of his eye, and that was when he saw it.
DEATH EATER, 22, FALLEN FROM GRACE AGAIN IN SEX SCANDAL
There it was, as clear as day. Blasted on the front page of a wizarding tabloid, the pages fluttered gently in the breeze as they sat upon the rack.
As he continued to read, the blood drained from his face, sinking through his limbs leaving him light-headed and sick.
No... no, no, no.. no, no...
That couldn't be him in the photographs, it just couldn't, it didn't look real and yet it was. Memories flooded through his mind like flashing lights - the hotel room, the men, the positions, the regret, the shame, the self-harming, the cash he was handed that he put towards food.
He yanked the newspaper from the stack, all he needed to do was hide it, but another one stood behind in its place, he pulled that one out too, then another, and another, and they wouldn't stop coming, the words in acid black on the paper endlessly shaming him, exposing him
With each paper he grasped, more words appeared
MALFOY
SHAMEFUL
PORN
SEX ACTS
DRACO
DRACO
DRACO
Mortified, in a fit of rage and humiliation, he threw the papers to the ground and drew his wand at them, the pile going up in flames at his feet as he sobbed, gasping for air through the suffocation of despair.
The papers burnt to ash, floating up into the sky above and Draco ran home, to the only place that felt safe.
***
The door to the townhouse creaked open, Draco slipped inside and made his way for the stairs, not even looking back to see if it had closed properly behind him.
"Draco?" Harry's familiar voice came from some direction, he wasn't sure where, but he carried on up the stairs, holding back the urge to break down. "Draco, you're back," Harry said, appearing behind him. He froze and turned around, looking down at Harry who was standing at the foot of the staircase.
"You saw it, didn't you?" Draco uttered, barely at a whisper. Harry faltered, the words were there but he couldn't get them out, Draco looked shattered and he didn't know what to say to fix it. "Don't lie to me, Harry... don't try to be kind."
Harry swallowed, "I saw it. I saw it but it doesn't have to mean anything, nobody's judging you, nobody hates you,--"
Draco pressed his lips and smiled in disbelief, "Everyone hates me, Harry... come on now, who are you kidding?"
"I don't hate you," Harry said, forcing his tone to remain strong despite the waver in his voice, the tugging on his throat. "I don't."
Draco let out a subtle sigh that Harry assumed was some form of comfort in his words, an unusual calmness fell over him, the tension in his body dissipating. He smiled, a genuine smile this time, because he could see that Harry cared, he was the only one who did. "I'm going to have a lie down now, Harry, to forget about this."
"Are you sure you don't want to talk? I mean," Harry looked around searching for the answers, flustered, "It's not fair, it really isn't-"
"Harry-"
"-I can speak to someone at the Ministry, maybe they can force the paper-"
"-Harry-"
"-to retract the story, I mean, Christ, Draco it's malicious gossip and so harmful, surely we can-"
"-Harry. Please," Draco hushed, taking two steps further down to meet him head-on, "Don't worry yourself, alright? I've made some terrible choices but I have to accept the risks. I'm going to be just fine. I promise."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, now stop trying to be a bloody saviour all the time."
Harry was looking up at Draco, his striking emerald eyes were big and glassy, on the verge of tears as he laughed in agreement. Draco felt like he should be flattered that he cared so damn much. He swallowed hard, the exhale shaky and frail and he smiled peacefully. "I... I appreciate your concern, Harry, really..." his voice broke slightly, "thank you, for everything."
With a genuine smile, he grabbed hold of Harry's hand and held it gently with a grip that lasted a little longer than normal and a look that warmed right through Harry's chest.
He was going to be okay now.
***
In the stillness of his bedroom, Draco placed the quill down on the side of the chest of drawers and breathed deep. He needed to change into something nicer, a pair of beige trousers and a t-shirt would do. It was the t-shirt that Harry had given him, somehow he felt more comfortable in it, he liked the scent as he pulled it down over his chest.
The bed looked comfortable and inviting, the sheets cool against the summer breeze that drifted through the open window. The touch of the bedsheets under his palms was soft, luring him in as a place where he could rest, where he could close his eyes and dream away all the pain.
He perched himself on the bed, resting against the headboard, his knees tucked to his chest and turned to look out the window. It was such a beautiful day. Birds could be heard chirping amongst the rustle of leaves from the gently swaying trees outside.
With another collected breath, he allowed himself to rest.
The droplets of the dark red potion melted down his throat as he twisted the bottle lid and placed it gently on the bedside table. Four drops were enough.
The blade against the dark mark was cold, his body shivered in reaction to the flesh parting, deeper this time, harsher. Blood streamed down his arm and dripped onto the sheets, like ink into water.
There was no pain this time, despite the unforgiving seeping of blood from his arm. No suffering. Calmness washed over him and a warmth spread through his body, which slowly, ever so sweetly, began to claim him.
With one last exhale, he smiled, felt the flutter of his eyelids close, and drifted.
Finally at peace.
***