Harry Potter was fed up.  He was tired of being treated like a house elf by his relatives.  He was sick of trying to balance on a pedestal created for him by the wizarding society.  And he absolutely refused to think another moment about the upcoming war in which he was expected by fully trained adult wizards to face down the most evil wizard ever known. 

But he smiled.  Because Harry Potter had a plan.

It had been simple, really.  He’d been permitted to go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys the week before his sixteenth birthday.  It had been explained by Headmaster Dumbledore that it would not be safe for him to remain with his friends at the Burrow so he’d had to return to his muggle family for the rest of the summer holidays.  Fortunately, his plans for a bit of summertime freedom had been honed to perfection prior to that trip. 

The idea was so elementary that Harry had almost whacked himself silly for not thinking of it sooner.  While withdrawing enough galleons for the supplies required for his upcoming sixth year classes, Harry also gathered a substantial amount to be converted to muggle pounds by the bank’s tellers.  When he saw the questioning glance from Ron he shrugged and explained that he was tired of wearing Dudley’s old clothes and planned on buying a few shirts and slacks for himself.

Instead of returning to the Dursleys’ house on Privet Drive with the help of his friends, Harry explained that he would just grab a muggle taxicab and head straight home.  It had taken a bit to convince Arthur that he’d be safe but, in the end, he waved goodbye to the Weasley clan through the back window as it pulled away from The Leaky Cauldron.

When he could no longer see the shocking red hair behind him, Harry turned back toward the cab driver.

“Change of plans, sir.  I’ll need you to drop me at the nearest shopping district.”

At the request, the driver made a left turn and headed further into London. 

The Boy Who Lived smiled brightly as he tipped the driver before making his way down the street.  Glad that he’d thought to ask Ron to keep his newly purchased school supplies until they met on the Hogwarts Express, Harry decided on which shop to visit first.

Choosing at random, as he really had no idea what type of clothing would suit him, Harry found himself in a brightly lit boutique.

“Can I help you find anything, sir?”

Harry spun around to find a young woman eyeing his current attire. 

“Yeah, actually, you can.”  He smiled at the lady and explained, “I need to buy some clothes but I really have no clue what to get.  Would you be able to point me in the right direction, Miss?”

The muggle woman smiled sweetly at him.  “Sure I can, love.  And call me Karen.  I have a feeling you may be here for a while so you may as well know whose name to call if you need help.  Come on back and we’ll see what we can find for you.”

Harry allowed himself to be ushered toward the back of the shop and into a cushioned chair.  “Thanks, Karen.  I’m Harry, by the way.”

Pulling up another chair, Karen sat down beside him.  “Nice to meet you Harry.  Now, what I need to do is find out exact what type of clothing you’ll be needing.”

It took nearly an hour of questions and measuring before Karen handed Harry a pile of clothes to try on.  He stepped out of the changing room in the first outfit.  Standing in front of the mirror, Harry saw how well the silk shirt hung on his Quidditch honed muscles.  The soft material glided across his skin sinfully. 

“Very nice, Harry!”  Karen had made her way back when she saw him.  “Green is definitely your color.  Brings out your beautiful eyes.  And I think the silk will serve your purpose well.”

Harry blushed at that.  He’d previously told the woman about his plans to venture out onto the club scene once he finally reached the age of consent in a few days.  Karen had not even blinked when he said he was planning on visiting a few gay clubs before returning to school in September.

“Yes, I like this one.  I think I’ll stick with the silk.  Maybe I should try a few more colors?”

“Absolutely!” Karen enthusiastically nodded.  “I’d suggest a deep red, midnight blue and black.  With your skin tone, you should stay with the darker colors.  Let’s try other styles too.  It wouldn’t do for you to just buy the same shirt in different colors.  And you might want to try the shop next door when you’re done here for pants and maybe a coat.  Those jeans look great on you but you’ll want more than denim some nights, I’m sure.”

It was another hour later before Harry said goodbye to Karen and headed to the next shop.  When he opened the door and stepped in, he had no doubt that the kind saleswoman had been right.  He breathed in the intoxicating smell.

“Mmmm… leather!”

Harry returned to Privet Drive a bit after dark and quickly ran up to his room to hide his purchases from his relatives.  He sighed at the thought of wearing Dudley’s old clothes for the next week but knew that it would be worth it soon.

Making his way back downstairs, Harry did something he never thought he would do.  He sought out his Aunt and Uncle. 

“Uncle Vernon, may I talk to you for a moment?”

Vernon Dursley looked up from the television show he was watching and narrowed his eyes at his nephew.

“What the hell do you want now, boy?  We already let you spend the day with those freak friends of yours.”

“Actually, Uncle, I have a proposition for you.”  Harry smirk at the look of surprise on the man’s face.  “I’ve come up with an idea that will benefit us both if you are agreeable.”

The obese man eyes Harry warily.  He truly hated the boy and enjoyed refusing him the simple pleasures in life.  Now he found himself faced with the same dilemma he was in two years ago when he’d wanted to stay with his friends for half the summer.  Whatever the boy wanted, Vernon may stand to profit somehow as well.

“Well don’t just stand there, boy!  Say what you want to say and stop wasting my time.”

Encouraged by his uncle’s willingness to at least listen, Harry plunged ahead with his proposal.

“Well, I’m turning sixteen in a few days and I just recently realized how much you and Aunt Petunia have done for me over the past fifteen years.”  Harry paused to gauge Vernon’s reaction.  He knew he had to play this just right.  He wanted to puff up his uncle’s ideas of the man’s own ‘generosity’ but he had to be careful not to sound facetious.

Vernon grunted in acknowledgement.  “It’s about time you see that, boy.”

“Yes, well, I thought it might be time for me to repay a bit of your financial sacrifices.”

Looking almost amused, Vernon asked, “And how do you plan to do that, Harry?  You going out to find work?”

“I won’t need to, Uncle Vernon.  You see, my parents left an inheritance for me when they died.  I only found out about it right before I started to school.  That’s how I’ve been able to buy the supplies I need for school every year.”

Immediately upon hearing this, Vernon Dursley saw red.  “Do you mean to tell me,” he growled, “that you could have been paying your way the past five years?”

Harry knew he had reached the hardest part of this conversation.  He’d managed to get the man angry and now he had to calm him down.  In the past, this had proven to be an impossible task.

“I couldn’t have paid you before now.  While I’ve had access to the money, it would have done you no good because it is all in wizard currency.  I learned recently that the bank I use could convert it to muggle currency.  I made sure to do that as soon as I could.  That was today.”  Harry paused to take a deep breath. 

“What I propose is that instead of piling all the housework on me during my summers home, I’ll pay you rent for room and board.  I’ll sleep here and eat some meals here.  You agree to let me come and go as I please and you will hardly ever see me.  I’ll promise to keep up normal appearances and will advise my friends there is no need for them to come around anymore.  Once I complete my schooling, you never have to see me again.”

Vernon mulled all that over in his mind for a few minutes.  It was as he feared.  If he agreed to this, he’d finally have the compensation he felt was owed to him but then Harry would gain the freedom he desired.  As much as he loathed the thought of allowing the boy any happiness, the idea came to him that he could use that rent money to hire a maid to make up for what Harry would no longer be doing.  That would be something he wouldn’t mind the neighbors seeing.  He decided that would go well with this year’s new company car.  The clincher for him, however, was the promise of no more freaks in his home.

“Alright.  Now, how much are we talking about for this rent you’ll be paying?”  Stepping into the role of professional businessman, Vernon Dursley opened negotiations with his nephew.

By the time Harry went to bed they had agreed to the cost of two months’ rent to be paid immediately for the current summer, although Harry wasn’t thrilled to pay for July since it was almost over, and again when he returned from school the following year.  Vernon had promised to provide a key to the back door so the neighbors wouldn’t see the boy coming and going and to have a legal contract written to solidify the deal.  

The Boy Who Lived smiled as he lay down to sleep.  Everything was working out perfectly.  Soon he would finally take back his life that everyone had carelessly stolen from him.

The day had finally arrived.  Harry finished the last of the thank you notes to his friends for the birthday gifts he’d received and sent Hedwig on her way.

He made his way to the bathroom and took a shower before donning one of the many new outfits he’d acquired on his outing the previous week.  Once dressed, Harry rushed downstairs for a quick bite to eat.  He still needed to head over to the optometrist for the contacts he’d ordered before beginning his exploration of London.  He could hardly contain his excitement.  Before the night was over he’d have another part of his life within his own control.

While he was calling for a cab to take him into the city, Petunia Dursley made an appearance in the kitchen.  She had made it quite clear that she didn’t like the arrangements her husband had agreed to but had sullenly accepted it.

The horse-faced woman clucked her disapproval at her nephew’s obvious happiness and poured herself a cup of tea.  ‘At least,’ she pondered silently, ‘I’m getting a maid out of this deal.  I can only imagine the uproar if I ever asked Dudley to clean the bathroom.’

Harry waved goodbye to his aunt when the taxi arrived, picked up his key from the counter and headed out.

When he got to the optometrist, he was instructed on how to care for the new lenses and how to use them.  It took a few tries but soon enough Harry was pocketing his old glasses as heading out the door.

As he walked down the street enjoying his new freedom, Harry realized something still wasn’t quite right.  He thought through everything he’d already done trying to figure out what was missing.  He glanced across the street and found his answer.  Wanting to smack himself in the forehead for overlooking the last portion of his makeover, Harry crossed the road and walked through the door of another shop.

He already knew what he wanted.  The question was whether or not it could be done there.  Harry smiled at the proprietor and made his request.

“Yeah I can do that,” the man looked him up and down.  “Aren’t you a bit young though?”

Harry smirked.  “Old enough to be legal.”

The man chuckled lightly.  “Alright, just tell me where you want it and have a seat over there.”

Taking off his green silk shirt and lowering his skin-tight leather pants a bit, Harry laid himself prostrate on the bench while answering, “I’d like it centered on the small of my back, please.”

Moving over to Harry with needles and inks prepared the man asked, “Where’d ya get the idea anyway?  I’ve had plenty of requests for snakes and a few for lions but I’ve never had anyone want them together.”

“Just my two favorite animals, is all.” 

“And you want the snake entwined around the lion, right?”

“Yeah, just make sure it appears as an embrace rather than a battle, okay?”  Harry was adamant on this.  The reinvention of himself was partially due to the fact that he’d finally accepted the Slytherin half of his nature.  “And don’t forget the words below it.”

“Right, kid.  ‘Cunning and Brave’ in a delicate script.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget this one.”  The man chuckled and prepared to begin.  “You might want to brace yourself.  This is gonna hurt.”

As the needle pressed in, Harry winced slightly.  It did sting a bit but after the cruciatus, it was child’s play.

About halfway through his work, the tattoo artist announced that it was time for a break.  Harry stood up and stretched out his muscles.

“So, ya want some holes to go with the ink?”

Harry turned to see a girl not much older than him sitting at another booth.  Seeing the piercings that adorned her face and ears, he had no doubt as to what ‘holes’ meant.  He thought it over a moment and shrugged.

“Sure, why not?”

“Really?  Didn’t think you’d actually want ‘em.  Come on over and pick out what you want.  I can have you done before Rick gets back from his smoke break.”

Ten minutes later Rick was back and Harry had three new holes.

“Aw, Rebecca, what’d ya do to the boy?”

“I just prettied him up a bit more.  I think he looks good with ‘em.”

Harry studied his reflection for a moment.  He now sported a hoop in each earlobe and one in his right nipple.  He definitely liked it.

“Come on, boy,” Rick sighed at him.  “Let’s get your needle work done before she can convince you to get more done.”

Lying back down, Harry looked up at Rebecca.  “How bad is the swelling if I got my tongue pierced?”

The girl laughed delightedly and prepared for another piercing. 

After Rick had finished and Rebecca had her evil way with him again, Harry excused himself and went into the shop’s restroom.  He pulled out a small vial from his pocket and rubbed the topical healing potion over his new tattoo.  Within minutes, the redness and swelling was gone and the ink was set into his skin.  It now looked as if it had been there for ages.  Sticking out his tongue for a quick glance at the barbell, Harry was happy to find the swelling had been minimal.  Just a drop of the potion was enough to heal it completely.

He stepped back out of the lavatory and pulled his shirt back on before anyone saw the perfectly healed tattoo.  Smiling, Harry paid for the services and headed out.  Realizing that he’d been in the tattoo parlor much longer than he’d anticipated, the raven-haired boy stopped for a quick dinner before calling a cab to take him to his first club experience.

When Harry finally reached his intended destination he breathed in deeply and opened all his senses to the hedonistic environment surrounding him.  The deep base pulsing through the speakers sang in his veins.  The scent of pure sexual desire brought him to hardness almost immediately.  His skin glistened in the heat of the club. And his mouth watered at the sight of all the beautiful male bodies writhing on the dance floor. 

The Boy Who Lived moved toward the bar and ordered a drink to calm his nerves.  While he was ecstatic that he was, at long last, in a place that he could be free, Harry was more than a little nervous.  Taking his first sip of scotch, he enjoyed the smooth burn down his throat as he watched the action on the dance floor.

He was rather surprised when a beautiful blonde-haired boy danced over to his place at the bar and whispered in his ear.

“I saw you when you came in and knew that I had to have you.  Dance with me?”  That was obviously an American accent and he found himself intrigued.

Harry looked at the other boy and gave a small grin.  “Sure.  Let’s go.”

When they reached the dance floor, Harry allowed the music to take over his heated body and held on to the other boy as they danced.  He laughed internally at the idea of dancing like that at Hogwarts.  An errant chuckle escaped his lips when he imagined the look on Dumbledore’s face if the Yule Ball turned out like this. 

Not missing a beat his dance partner asked, “What’s so funny?”

Smirking at the questioning look on the muggle boy’s face he answered, “Just thinking what kind of response this would get back at school.”

“From the look on your face it would probably be the same response it would have gotten back at my old school.”  The boy leaned a bit closer.  “My name’s Justin, by the way.”

“Mine’s Harry.”  Moving his body closer to Justin’s and allowing their hips to grind together to the music, Harry asked, “What brings you to London, Justin?”

“Art scholarship, actually.  Won it from the art school I go to in the States.  I spent the first half of the summer in Paris and just got to London a couple days ago.”

“How do you like it so far?”

The blonde traced his lips over Harry’s ear as he answered, “Oh, I think it just got very interesting.”

Contrary to popular belief, Lucius Malfoy did not hate muggles. 

While it is true that he disliked the fact that wizards and witches born to muggles had the same rights as purebloods in society, he found a definite appreciation for their knowledge of non-magical technology and entertainment.  If it weren’t for a generations old family feud, Lucius might even admit that he and Arthur Weasley had quite a bit in common in regards to muggle life. 

Unfortunately, the lot he was cast in life forbade him from allowing this information to become public knowledge.  So he hid.  And prayed that the Dark Lord his life was given to by his parents before he was even born never learned the truth. 

There were only two people that knew the truth about Lucius.  The first was his wife, Narcissa.  He loved her truly for the friendship she freely gave him from the day their respective parents announced there had been a contract signed promising each to the other.  While neither had wanted to marry, they knew there was no way out of the arrangement.  They agreed, from the beginning, that they’d lead separate personal lives once they produced the required heir. 

Lucius and Narcissa made a private vow on their wedding day to hold their secrets for each other.  That they each shared the same hatred of Lord Voldemort and the same fate of eternal servitude to him was what managed to keep them both sane in the years since they married.

The public saw the Malfoys as an evil family happily serving the Dark Lord.   As much as both husband and wife detested that fact, they were well aware that if anything less was suspected it would cost them their lives.  And the life of their beloved son, Draco.

Draco was the other keeper of his family’s secrets.  He agreed full-heartedly that Voldemort was an insane megalomaniac who was not worth the trouble he caused.  The Malfoy heir hated that he had to portray himself as the cold-hearted Slytherin bastard.  There was no doubt that he belonged in Slytherin, though.  Because only the truly sly and cunning could outwit the Dark Lord.

“I’m going out this evening,” Lucius announced as dessert was served. 

Narcissa looked across the table at her husband and smiled.  “I thought you might be.  You’ve been rather restless lately.  Will you be going into London?”

“Mmm. . . yes, I thought I’d seek some private entertainment for the night.”  He raised one blonde eyebrow and smirked at his wife.  “Did you want me to bring something back for you?”

An amused snort brought the attention of the couple to their son.  “You know, it’s a bloody miracle that I’m not stark raving mad from listening to the two of you!”

“Draco!”  Narcissa scolded the boy light-heartedly.

“Let the boy alone,” Lucius chuckled.  “Perhaps you’d like to come out too, Draco?”

The boy rolled his eyes at his father.  “As much as I hate the idea of missing you prey on some young thing,” Draco said sarcastically, “I promised Blaise I’d come over tonight so we can work on our summer assignments together.  He’d be rather put out if I cancelled at the last moment.”

“Very well, son.”  The elder Malfoy took one last sip of wine and stood.  “Then, if you’ll both excuse me, I think I’ll go change and then set out.”

With that, Lucius kissed both his wife and son on the head and went to don the appropriate attire for the evening he had planned.

Lucius stood absolutely stunned by the sight before him.  He’d just finished his first drink when he decided to peruse the crowded dance floor for a suitable candidate for his attentions.  Moving through the crowd that seemed to instinctively part for him, he had come across what was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

It wasn’t necessarily the beauty that amazed him.  No, he’d known long ago that the boy was going to grow into a stunning man.  The thing that had him frozen to the floor was that the boy was in that particular club and was. . . dancing. . . like that.

It was the last thing Lucius Malfoy had ever suspected.  And he’d never even dreamed he’d find himself witnessing this particular scenario.

There was Harry Potter.  The Boy Who Lived.  The bane of Lord Voldemort’s existence.  The Savior of the wizarding world.  The hope of the Malfoy family’s future. 

And he was wrapped around another young man dancing.  Provocatively.

Shaking himself out of his shock, Lucius decided to play.  He wanted to know what the boy thought he was doing going out with no signs of protection when he should be home behind wards that continued to stump the Dark Lord.  But more than that, the man wanted the boy.

Moving with practiced grace, Lucius approached Harry from behind and began to dance, sandwiching the boy between himself and the pretty blonde muggle.  He smiled seductively at the blue-eyed boy and placed his hands on Harry’s hips to draw them closer.

Harry was having the time of his life.  The only time he’d ever felt so free was when he was soaring through the air on his broomstick.  Here was this beautiful American boy, who he’d already learned was only nineteen, dancing with him in an environment that felt as if it were made solely for Harry.  The truly thought he’d found heaven.  Or, at the very least, the closest to it here on earth.

TBC