Title: The District Sleeps Alone Tonight
By: Bridget McKennitt
Pairing: Percy Weasley/OMC
Rating: R
Word Count: 728
Contains: No warnings in as far I know that can't be extrapolated from the header itself.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by other companies. They are used here without permission, and for entertainment purposes only. No challenge or infringement upon the copyright is intended, nor should any be inferred.
The Ministry had fallen to Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Cornelius Fudge was executed and his head placed on a pike outside of the building as a victory sign. Lucius Malfoy had been promptly named Minister of Magic as Lord Voldemort was named ruler of the Wizarding World. With Dumbledore long dead, Hogwarts was under the tutelage of the new Headmistress, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Most of the Order had fled, those that survived anyway. Harry Potter was still alive though, curiously enough. He was the beloved pet of one Severus Snape, Lord Voldemort's potions master. Wherever Snape went, a collared Harry went with him on a leash. Percy had seen them in Diagon Alley once. Snape pushed Harry against a lamp post, hands running inside Harry's robe, as his tongue slid between parted lips. Harry did not fight back. In fact, he welcomed the assault and bucked up for more.
It was obscene.
It was wrong.
It was the way of the world.
Percy huddled in his tattered cloak and ducked inside Knockturn Alley. He was the last of the Weasley family still alive, at least as far as he knew. He did not want to find out either. The one time he tried to inquire about his family, he found out that Ron was killed during a double penetration marathon between Crabbe and Goyle seniors. They broke him in two, literally.
Percy leaned against a wall and tried to relax. With the Death Eaters running around, he was forced to change his hair color to brown and fatten his body so he did not look like a Weasley. He tried looking for jobs, nothing in the Ministry or at Hogwarts, but unless you were close with the Death Eaters, no one would give you a job. That only left one thing and it was something Percy debated about endlessly.
But there was nothing else.
Unless he wanted to starve.
So Percy became a whore; selling his body to anyone who would buy it for an hour. Many of his patrons were rough on him, but he had no choice except take it. Take the brutal sodomy, the burned marks, his bleeding arse and sobbing in the night. Percy was, above all, a survivalist, and even in this darkened world, he wanted to live.
He scanned the alley, hoping somebody would come by and take him to an inn. Nearly all of his patrons allowed him the room for the rest of the night and it was nice to sleep in a bed. His stomach growled. Not to mention it would be nice to eat. He had not eaten since three days ago; a fallen piece of bread from a passerby.
"Hey, kid." Percy looked up at the tall man before him. He could not make out his features, not that Percy wanted to, but he could tell from the man's clothing that he had money. "Doing anything tonight?"
Percy shook his head. That was another thing. He never talked, never said a word to the men who used him. He figured not talking saved his life. No one would recognize him as Percy Weasley, not even by voice. That redhead did not exist anymore.
"Turn around." Percy did, bracing himself against the wall. He felt the man pull down his trousers and slick hands readying his pucker. Then he felt the, ah, yes. That.
He noticed immediately that this man was not like all the others. They liked it rough, hard, and fast. This man took his time, as if he had hours to fuck him. Perhaps he did. Moments later, he felt semen flooding him and the man pulling out. Percy hurried to tug up his trousers and tuck himself back in.
The man withdrew twenty Galleons from his pocket and handed it to Percy. He shook his head. No one paid so much for a simple fuck. But the man insisted. "Go on, take it. Not like I need it."
Percy took the Galleons, nodding his head. He watched the man leave Knockturn Alley in simple amazement. Was it possible that the world still held something good, even slightly corrupted at best? He stared at the Galleons in his hands and pocketed it. This would last him about a month if he were careful enough. Maybe even get him a warm bed at an inn.
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