BY : Mansi Jain
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco
Dragon prints: 8874
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.



The man moans and slumps on her, sighing heavily. A moment later, he lifts his head and smiles, dazed. She pastes a plastic smile on her face before muttering, "Get off. You have got what you paid for."

He obliges and turns to lay down on the empty side of the bed. She covers herself with her blanket.

"Keep the money on the side table and get out." She says bluntly. She doesn't like this work but it's the only option she had when she was kicked out of Petunia's house. Harrie had nothing but a thin skirt and a shirt on her. She had no money and she had nothing to eat.

Today she has a flat. It has two floors and five rooms, a seating room, a kitchen and a dining room. She has food in her kitchen and a little money in her bank account. She has some money in her closet also which she uses for groceries. She has only one bad habit which is drinking.

"Why are you doing this work?" He asks, putting his shirt on.

She replies, "Didn't have any education or money or food. So I had to do this to stay alive. Why are you doing this, eh? Can't get a girlfriend without paying her off."

He is a handsome enough bloke with red hair, a lean body and a good face. She is honestly curious. Usually Harrie doesn't indulge in small talk with her clients. But this one seems decent and sincere enough. He also seems a bit familiar.

He stares at her before stammering, "I am not insulting you. I was only asking because you didn't seem the kind-"

"What kind, huh? I am a slut. That's my kind. I am not worth being your girlfriend. Nor do I want to. You got what you paid for. Fuck off now or I will tell you exactly what your kind is." She spits out and he glowers at her, "What do you mean, huh?"

"You are the kind who live on their father's wealth and have a lot time to waste. But I don't have a father and my time is important. This small talk might satisfy your ego but it won't place food on my table. So leave."

"Did I even talk about dad's business or wealth with you. Hell, I didn't talk about money at all." He snaps furiously and she huffs in annoyance, "Will you just get lost?"

"May I atleast know your name?" He asks and she mutters curtly, "Harrie Potter. You have my number. Call me up if you want my services again."

Once upon a time, saying these words had embarrassed her. Now she was so accustomed to all this that she barely blinked before speaking.

"What did you say?" He asks and she glares at her. Why isn't he leaving?

"I will send Jimmy after you if you don't leave."

"Jimmy... your..." He trails off and she chuckles darkly, "Girls my kind don't have boyfriends or husbands. He is my dog and he bites hard. Leave my premises."

"But I only want you to repeat your name."

"I just told you, didn't I? My name is Harrie Potter. Go away." She hisses, annoyed.

"I- I am going. Please calm down." He murmurs and strangely enough, he starts sweating. He wipes his forehead with his handkerchief and she stares, confused.

"Are you feeling hot? I could have decreased the temperature of the AC." She murmurs. As such she doesn't require an air conditioner. Her magic is enough to do that. Of course, her clients don't have magic so she does ensure to switch it on before they arrive.

"No, no." He smiles tightly, his brown eyes guarded as he watches her, "It's quite alright. I'll take my leave now. I think that I have overstayed my welcome. Can I ask a question though?"

"Yes." She frowns.

"Is this your permanent residence?"

"Yes. Why so curious?" She asks and he opens his mouth before closing it again.

"Just like that. I- I'll just leave." He stammers and she sighs.

"Leave already. My next client is about to come." She needs to take a shower.

"You don't need to do all this. Why are you doing it?" He mutters, standing at her entryway.

"Will you just leave?" She barks out.

"Ok- ok- okay, I'll - I'll leave." He stammers, his eyes cautious as he leaves a confused Harrie in his wake.

As soon as Ron exits her house, he starts running as fast as he can. He can't believe it and he doesn't think Snape or Dumbledore or Serene will be able to either. How is this even possible? She is supposed to be dead.

Merlin! He freezes in his tracks, his chest heaving. Hermione won't forgive him for this. Serene and Snape will have his head. They will not let him live in peace. But he can't hide this news from them. He was just so depressed and it was the first time he had resorted to this. Couldn't it have been anyone but her?

He can't very well hide this. No. No, I'll have to tell them. She is our only chance. Merlin! What have I done? We played together as toddlers.


Harrie takes a deep breath and stares at the swans swimming in the river. The garden is beautiful with all kinds of flowers scattered around it. Some people are walking on the tracks and some are running on it. Yesterday, after the red-headed man had left, she had canceled all the other appointments. Not that she was tired or anything. She was just feeling very depressed. 

She crosses her arms around herself, feeling very cold and lonely and - well- depressed. Presently, she is waiting here for one Neville Longbottom. Had she not needed money to pay her bills off, she won't have taken this one at all. In fact, she doesn't want to do this anymore. She even visited a call center for a job, any job but they said that she did need basic qualifications if she wanted any job at all. She hadn't even completed her schooling. 

So Harrie waits for her client and gazes at the swans, feeling stupid for being affected by that red-head's words. She wishes she was one. The legend says that swans mate for life and that they only sing when they are dying. Maybe she will sing just before her death too. She sings sometimes, mostly when she is drunk.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" A soft voice asks her.

"Hmmm." She mumbles absently and continues gazing at them. Belatedly, she realizes that someone is standing beside her and turns her head to look at the man.

He is taller than her and has black hair, broad shoulders and a kind face. His eyes are black and round.

"I am Neville Longbottom. May I know your name?" He murmurs politely.

She chuckles darkly, "My name doesn't matter. What matters is the price. I will charge twenty five hundred for a hour, forty five hundred for two and sixty two hundred for three."

He clears his throat uncomfortably, "I just came back today you know. I was out, researching for some rare herbs."

"Oh! and you're telling me all this because-" She replies and he breaths deeply in response.

"I am doing this- this is the first time I am doing this. Ginny has gone for a match and -" He stutters and she stares, perplexed at him.

"Do you think I care?" She snaps, annoyed.

"Three hours." He mutters nervously.

"Do you want me to wear something special?" She asks.

He opens his mouth and then closes it.

"I usually wear skirts if my clients want a show." She mutters.

He breaths hard and starts, "Whatever you wish. I don't have any preference."

"I take cash."

"I have cash on me. Don't worry."

She chuckles, "I don't worry mister. I know how to protect myself."

This being said she walks towards her house. Sometimes she wishes that she had a car and she is saving for it. A small and second hand will do. As such, she can just disappear on will and reappear at her place but she doesn't want to take the risk of someone watching her do so.

Also, she likes the idea of driving a car. One day, she will have a big one like wealthy people do. She watches a family pass by in an expensive looking car and smiles at the child before heading back to her home. After unlocking the door, she walks inside and heads towards the kitchen to drink water. After that she walks towards her bedroom.

Three hours is a long time. Two or three more such clients and then she can take a leave for a week at least. She changes quickly and washes her face before sitting on her bed.

A few moments later, he opens the door and enters inside. She places her novel inside the drawer after marking the page.

He is handsome though looks hardly matter to her. They don't effect her. They are just clients and she only gives pleasure to them. It's not about her pleasure. So she smiles pleasantly at him. He locks the door behind him and comes closer to her.

Two hours and fifty seven minutes later, he's done and laid down besides her. His breath is loud and heavy. 

"Keep the money on the side table and leave." She snaps at him, needing him to just leave. It's the same with all the clients. She can't look at them once it's over. 

He sits up and looks at her, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"What?" She says impatiently, "Will you leave?"

"You're very beautiful." He mutters, leaning towards her. 

She backs off and averts her eyes with a politely worded, "Three hours are over. Kindly leave."

He sighs heavily at that and replies, "What's your name? You know mine. It's only fair that I know yours."

"Harrie Potter." She murmurs, "Call me up when you need my services again."

He stares at her in quite the same way the red haired man had stared.

"What? What's wrong?" She asks, annoyed.

"Nothing." He stammers, "I'll just take my leave now. Goodbye."

His eyes are wide and just like the red-headed man, he starts sweating. With a last terrified glance at her, he leaves her flat. She only stares at her door, wondering what just happened.

Neville walks out of her house, dazed and shocked.

Harrie Potter is alive. Ginny can't know about this yet. Merlin! Maybe there is hope for all of us yet.

He would have to tell her eventually but he'll wait until she tells him about her secret meetings with Dean. 


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