Sweet porn actor.

***

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” — Oscar Wilde.

***

Harry walked along an empty street, humming a cheerful song, and did not look around at all. He was very amused by the meeting with Lord Malfoy, who behaved in a strange way. He looked intimidatingly and with the caution characteristic only of a cornered predator, answered questions. Although, de facto, Harry didn’t ask him anything like that. Although I tried. He spent almost half a day trying to negotiate with this slug for help with his family’s affairs. But at some point everything went completely wrong. Why the hell Harry started flirting with Lucius, he still doesn’t understand. Perhaps this was influenced by his subconscious, mentally imagining that blond from porn. But the fact remains a fact. This scared him too. Entering the first cafe he came across along the way, Harry sat down at an empty table right by the window. Looking out the window, waiting for the menu to be brought to him, he nervously tapped his fingertips on the table, trying to figure out Lucius' motives in his head. It just didn’t work out for him. No picture, no further steps for him to miscalculate. If this slug hopes that Harry remains the same naive guy with a crystal clear soul, then he instantly loses. Harry, the conqueror of Voldemort, who miraculously was not listed as killed in the last battle for Hogwarts, was now in the deepest confusion and lack of understanding about what to do next and what strategy to choose. On the one hand, it would be more humane to ask for help from friends with whom he went through his entire bloody (well, he personally thought so) path. On the other hand, there were hopes that everything would come to its senses on its own, and it was best (as the Muggles say) to put the bolt on all their worries. As soon as the menu was brought to him, Harry was finally able to relax and breathe freely. As soon as he ordered a simple dinner and a small bottle of wine, his brain began, willy-nilly, to return to the events that had happened the day before. And in order to drown out the entire stream of thoughts, he began to listen to the conversations of the magicians sitting at the neighboring tables. — Have you heard the news that the head of the Malfoy family has become a whore? — one voice whispered to another at the next table. Harry only tightened his grip on the fork. — Yes, yes, but how did you know? — the interlocutor also answered him in a whisper. “Really, where do such conclusions come from?” — said the inner voice in Harry’s head. — What’s his name, did you say that yourself? — everyone at the table gasped in surprise, and then groaned. — And what? Did he just say that?! — Yes! — Harry involuntarily thought about asking Lucius himself about this, but he still decided not to focus his attention on the conversations of practically intoxicated magicians. Continuing his meal, he again began to involuntarily return to his painful state of silent thoughts. But they managed to distract him from this in time. — Harry, my friend, we haven’t seen each other for so long, — the sweet-sweet notes in the voice, gray eyes and hastily styled snow-white locks of hair could only belong to one person. — Draco, I’m glad to see you, — Harry stood up from the table and, extending his hand to shake the overly pleased Malfoy’s, noticed a rather strange change in his appearance. — This is what you accomplished in a couple of years. Don’t admit it! They shook hands and Harry motioned for Draco to sit down. — Potter, you sound like my late grandmother, — he said, snorting and rolling his eyes for credibility. — Well, you really have changed, I won’t lie. — Okay, actually, this is all, -Draco held his hand next to his face, — the merit of the marriage and the ritual that follows. — Harry stared in surprise at Draco, who was pleased with himself. — You are married? — the surprised Harry Potter shouted almost to the entire hall. Draco put one finger to his lips and whispered conspiratorially: — Yes, I’m married, Potty. — When did you have time? — The only thing Potter couldn’t understand was how he could sleep through such an important event for his friend. — A month ago, — the sight of a completely upset Harry did not particularly please him. — You were there, weren’t you? — Harry looked at Draco in bewilderment, waiting for an explanation. — I wasn’t at your wedding, — he muttered offendedly. — You didn’t even send me an invitation. — How did this not happen? — and now it’s time for Draco to be surprised. — I saw you myself and even came up to talk, but during the conversation you did nothing but change the subject. — Draco, are you now telling this in all seriousness to me, a person who, as far as I can remember, was invited to a wedding only once, and then only to some strange aunt? — Harry said sarcastically. — Wait, are you saying that you weren’t there then? — Harry nodded. — Then who was instead of you? — Many people can come to your wedding under my guise, to be honest. — No, no, you don’t understand, — Draco became noticeably nervous. — I sent the letter only to you personally and didn’t tell anyone about it. — It was then that it dawned on Harry that either this had been planned by someone, or Malfoy had decided to play a joke on him. — Good joke, Draco, — seeing how lost the visibly beaming Draco had become, he stopped writing it off as a joke. And I became even more nervous. — Okay, we’ll think about it later. Harry hastened to change the subject before things got worse. — You really have to think… For a couple of minutes, there was dead silence at their table. Everyone thought about their own things, not wanting to involve the other in it. And finally, Harry decided to continue the conversation: — You’d better tell me where you work, and how you’ve settled in life? — Yes, okay… — Draco answered evasively. — I work in a jewelry store, I sell rings, and sometimes I make them myself. The work is painstaking, but it bears fruit. — This is quite an entertaining activity. Why not an artifactor? — Harry hesitated. — You really wanted to become one at school. — For some reason it didn’t work out, and my father said that the work wasn’t very good, — Draco turned away, starting to watch people passing by on the street. — Somewhat ungrateful. — Give it all to you on a silver platter, eh, Draco, — Harry grinned, watching Draco’s profile. — Maybe, — he turned back. — Or maybe not. Maybe I never wanted this at all? — Perhaps, but you didn’t have a choice, right? Draco nodded, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. — Still, I’m happy for you, — Harry reached for a glass and, after drinking a little, called the waiter to bring another glass. — How are you doing on the personal front? — Draco asked, leaning back in his chair. — Have you gotten along with Ginny? Draco usually teased him about this, as if hinting that Harry was impotent if he couldn’t seduce the poor red-haired girl. But he didn’t know all the details at all. — Yes, I work at Aurora, — he said. — I’m somehow not attracted to Ginny anymore, — he blurted out, and Harry hastened to close his mouth before he said the last sentence. Although, what could he say? “Draco, my friend, I’m attracted to one blond guy from the cover of: “The best porn for magicians” or “Draco, I’m so impotent that I can’t get hard on anyone except blonds.” But the latter sounded very strange and promised him to at least get a fist in the eye or an Avada in between. — Wow, what details, — he drawled. — Let’s figure out who this princess is that you preferred to Ginny. — Princess… Yes… — Harry almost laughed out loud, watching the admiring look of gray eyes. — Yes, there’s something I don’t want to talk about about her yet… You understand. — I would have immediately said that there is no one, — Draco pouted offendedly. — Don’t be offended, Draco, it’s not my fault that I’m like this… — Impotent? — Yes, — Harry agreed with him. — You have a bad case, of course. — At that moment the second glass was brought, and Harry hurried to pour the wine. — You should at least try to come up with a more plausible excuse. — What for? — Harry made an innocent face. — You already know me better than the back of your hand. — You’ll be lying, — he snorted. — It is what it is, — Draco grinned smugly and, taking a sip from his glass, grimaced in disgust. — What kind of wine are they serving here? It’s such a disgrace. — Harry shrugged. — Wine and wine, what’s wrong? — Harry really didn’t understand. — Okay, I won’t prove it to you, — he drank a little more from the glass. — By the way, have you seen my father? — I saw it, what do you want? — Nothing for me. He simply didn’t show up at my wedding at all, even though I personally gave him the invitation. I want to understand what kind of fly bit him. — Speaking of your father, — Draco moved closer to the table with interest. — There are rumors that he has become a whore. — Draco laughed at the confusion on Harry’s face. — Sorry, sorry, it’s just… — he could barely suppress the gusts of laughter. — There have been all sorts of rumors about my father for a long time, and in any case, I would have told you about it right away. — I didn’t believe it, — Harry waved it off, observing some fear in Draco’s eyes. Fear of something that he, Potter, was not supposed to know. And this was even more stressful. — How can such a distinguished lord sleep with just anyone? It’s absurd. “Is it absurd?” — flashed through Harry’s head. — That’s what I’m talking about. — I would have told you right away, my friend, — having finished the contents of his glass, Draco looked at his wristwatch. — Oh, I have to run, otherwise Astoria will get really mad. Before Harry could ask when he started using Muggle wristwatches, Draco was gone. “Like father and son, from the same opera,” — he smiled, looking at the empty glass, blindly reminiscent of Draco’s presence.

***

“I wonder, if we really take Lucius as bail…” — approximately these thoughts visited Harry’s rather bright head, imagining in his head the image of the blond man from the cover with the face of Lucius Malfoy. Harry’s body reacted very ambiguously to this, and he, walking in a straight line, hurried to leave the path and turn into some alley, which was surprisingly light. And it smelled something strange. Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak, thereby hiding from the voracious glances of others, and, proudly raising his head, began to carefully make his way along. Imagine his surprise when he saw the dead, motherfucking Professor Snape, walking arm in arm with Lucius. Lucius, without a twinge of conscience, was telling Severus something, actively gesticulating. Harry began to involuntarily listen to their conversation and, coming a little closer so that he could hear them clearly, he could not believe his ears. — Sev, it turns out that my son met Potter in some restaurant, and he also wanted to give away my secret! — Lucius raised his voice an octave literally every second. — The kid completely got away with it, and he also married this Astoria. Ugh. It’s disgusting to watch. — Aren’t you disgusted with yourself, Lucius? — Severus stopped and crossed his arms over his chest, raising one eyebrow in his usual manner. — What have you become? — I have always been and will remain Lucius Malfoy, the conqueror of ladies’ hearts. — Yeah, and also a conqueror of men’s holes, — Severus grinned, revealing slightly yellowish teeth. — Seriously, aren’t you tired? — In what sense? — In the most direct way possible, — Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose irritably. — Your son is a jeweler, but he could have become an artifact if it weren’t for your pathetic “no”. What have you achieved yourself other than endless lies? To this, Lucius apparently had nothing to answer, and their dialogue became literally mute. Harry did not listen any further, for he had had enough of gossip and rumors. But still, he managed to notice some details, and he absolutely did not like them.