Without You

Title: Without You

Description: HBP spoilers. So Harry has become an emotionless masochist and Dudley is interested in why his cousin is like this. Draco is bored and wants to see Harry just one more time before the war. Owls back and forth followed by a rendezvous at a playground. What could these two boys be up to? Warning: major OOC but frankly, who cares right?

Category Harry Potter books

Subcategory: Harry/Draco

Rating: NC-17 (may be R at some points)

Just so you know Harry Potter and all recognizable names and places and drinks and whatever belong to J.K. Rowling and I therefore own everything else. ::sniffle:: I want DRACO!! He’s mine… mine I tell you! He belongs to me!! Harry and all else is hers but Draco is mine!! Please?

A/N: First of all I would like to take a quick moment to apologize for the exceedingly long gap in updates for this story so, sorry sorry sorry please don’t flay the Squirrel! Okay, secondly, this is a revisited, reworked, hopefully edited decently version of the previously posted first part. Just so you all know, I’m not planning on changing the actual story line, just little details here and there to make it flow better. That said, here is the new and improved Without You.
-Squirrel

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part one

“C’mon, Big D!” Piers, Dudley and I lounged in the den with the television playing softly and nothing better to do during the muggy summer day. “I’ve got it. Let’s us grind his stupid ass into the cement and blame his stupidity for the mess.” Piers bounced on the arm of the chair as if it were the best idea he’d had all day. “It would be awesome, D. I mean, we haven’t beaten him since he dragged his sorry ass back here for the summer. Not once!” He shot a dirty look in my direction, blaming me for their lack of things to do all summer. I quirked an eyebrow at him from the overstuffed armchair I’d claimed, daring him to say anything further but to my increasing dismay he didn’t take the bait. All talk and no action, what a wuss.

Dudley stopped flipping channels as a boxing match came on and spared a glance at me before looking back at the television. “Nah, he came back in an odd mood. Not as much fun to bully when he’s like that.” In an effort to drown out further comments from his partner in crime, Dudley raised the volume on the set.

Piers stammered and clambered off the arm of the couch to stalk towards me. My gaze flickered up to him as he approached, hexes coming to mind to throw at him and a slight sneer formed. “Then how ‘bout getting him riled up, then we beat the crap outta him? Huh, huh? How’s that sound Big D?” Piers tried again, his whiny voice barely heard over the blasting television.

Dudley groaned and looked back at his friend. “Whatever, but before you do that,” his beady eyes shifted from Piers to me. There was no way to not feel the gaze he cast my way but ignoring it was an entirely different story, one that I felt I dutifully needed to ignore. “Get me a drink, you!” I tuned him out by this point, knowing it was a weak attempt to irk me, and chose to let memories of the past few weeks take over my conscious mind. Dumbledore was dead seemed to be taking center stage on every station my mind switched to. “Bloody wanker! I said get me a drink!” He threw the remote with poor aim and it missed me completely.

“I’m gonna beat you up so bad you lousy bug!” Piers snarled and leaned in close, almost pulling my attention away from the grisly scenes leading up to Dumbledore’s demise. The first few punches weren’t doing anything. Neither were any of those that followed. After a while Dudley realized that bullying me was, in fact, more appealing that he originally gave it credit for and pushed himself from the couch. He shoved Piers aside and wretched me out of the chair, sending me sprawling on the floor. “YEA!” Piers shouted, punching the air with a fist.

I glanced up at the two of them before climbing to my feet and turned to walk away. It would have been decidedly easier if Dudley hadn’t grabbed the neck of the shirt collar and tugged backwards, sending me flying over the coffee table and hitting the corner of the wooden television stand. It should have sparked some fight in me but it didn’t. I just felt nothing, aside from a sharp pain shooting up my spine.

“C’mon you fucking prat! Fight back!” Piers was on top of me, throwing punch after punch, landing all and getting no reaction from me. “Fight back already!”

Rolling his shoulders, Dudley turned a smug look on Piers. “See? I told you he was no fun Piers. Let’s go find a more willing victim.” Dudley hovered over me for a moment, kicked me in the gut once and turned away. Piers kicked me once more himself and followed Dudley out the door. I rolled over and closed my eyes once the door slammed shut. This summer was a right bloody pain in the ass. I pushed myself up and wiped my mouth. A sharp metallic taste touched my tongue and I sighed. Definitely a bloody pain.

I righted the table, walked out of the room and stepped upstairs to shower. After Aunt Petunia found out Dumbledore had died she seemed a little different towards me; looking at me with a softer gaze, gently touching my arm as I passed to take care of a chore she gave me. Small acts of kindness but they never touched me. I glanced in the mirror and lowered my eyes at the bruised reflection. That’s what happens when Dudley and Piers get a chance to beat the favorite punching bag without consequence. I stripped off my clothes and glanced down at the rest of my body. I hated it.

I was too thin where I shouldn’t be, too scrawny in other places and I concluded I was a masochist as my semi-hard-on poked out from the nest of dark curls at my crotch. I hated my body, and I nearly hated myself. Not enough to want to commit suicide but enough to want to mar myself. I picked up the razor and turned on the water; ice cold. I think my mind shut down after Snape killed Dumbledore and since I returned to 4 Privet Drive I have been devoid of emotion. I hadn’t cried since that night. I hadn’t replied any of the owls my friends had sent. I hadn’t even looked at my school work. As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t going back in September.

I stepped into the shower and turned my face to the jets of icy water, letting the blood run down my face and body. I was a masochist. I was also debating whether I could avoid the wedding tomorrow and realized I would never be able to. The blade of the razor dug past my skin and drew a small trickle of blood from the crook of my left arm. A bloody masochist. The bathroom door opened and I heard Dudley’s voice.

“See? Told you he came up here. Hey! If you’re using hot water my mom’s gonna kill you.” He sneered and I imaged Draco Malfoy and how I didn’t receive a right nasty sneer from him nearly all of the previous year. I missed it. “C’mon! Get outta the fucking shower already!” I heard Piers chuckle behind him as both boys shifted around the door frame.

I rinsed all the blood from my body, glared at my finally dispersed hard-on, and turned the water off. “Towel Dudders; I’m not prancing around naked for you gay twats to get off on.” My voice was colder than I thought as Piers choked on air and Dudley just gaped at me. I realized I wasn’t getting a towel from either of them and yanked the curtain out of the way before stepping out of the shower and grabbing my things from the floor. “Thanks you fat fuck.” I dropped the razor on the sink ledge and shoved both of them out of the way before walking into my room and slamming the door shut behind me.

“Did he just walk outta here starkers?” Piers gasped.

Dudley stormed up to my door and yanked it open. “What did you just call me?” I spun around with my jeans hanging precariously off my hips and droplets of water still dripping from my hair onto my shoulders, back, and chest.

I guess I wasn’t as void of emotion as I’d thought because without thinking I narrowed my eyes and sneered, “Well, let’s see you wanker, I called you a fat fuck, a gay twat and oh! Just now I called you a wanker. Anything I missed?” I flung my hair all into my face and whipped it backwards, spraying both of them as well as many of the things in my room with water.

“That’s what I thought.” Dudley just gaped at me for a few minutes, looking me up and down as though he was suddenly seeing me half nude for the first time. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time. His eyes widened and he pointed behind me towards the bar-free window. “What’s that?”
I turned towards the window and saw a huge eagle owl swooping towards the open window. “That’s would be an owl you moron. Didn’t they teach you what an owl is in school? Or were you playing hooky that day and missed the lesson?” I sneered over my shoulder and held my arm out to the huge bird. She landed gracefully on my arm, her talons tearing at my skin, and I recognized her as the owl that delivered things for Malfoy. “Hello there, precious. And for what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” I crooned to the bird; however much I may have despised Malfoy, his owl was certainly beautiful.

“Why are you talking to a bloody owl you freak? It can’t talk back you know.” Piers commented from behind Dudley. The owl hooted indignantly and I raised my eyebrow sharply at both of them.

“Get lost wankers.” I moved towards them and they both flew from the doorway and down the stairs. I smirked and closed the door before turning my attention back to the bird on my arm. “Just goes to show what Muggles know.” I saw a small note tied around her leg and clumsily untied it with my free hand. I picked up an owl treat and offered it to the owl wondering if she would even eat it only to have it plucked from my fingers. I opened the note and took a sharp breath of air.

Harry,

This may come as a shock to you but I felt I had to tell you a
few things. First of all, I had no real choice in the matter as to
whether I killed Dumbledore or not. It was both my life and the
lives of my family or his. From my perspective, and I am going to
assume yours as well, I made the right decision. Self-centered, yes,
but survival of the fittest, isn’t that how it goes? Secondly, word
has traveled that you are not attending Hogwarts next year. As I
doubt I will be there either I am not going to tell you that you must
go. In fact, I was hoping I could convince you to meet up with me
so we could compare reasons face-to-face. I don’t think the accomplice
to Dumbledore’s murderer would be allowed back with open arms. Although
who knows, I’ve heard rumors that Death Eaters have taken control of the
school. That aside, being nothing more than rumors at this point, I
would prefer to see you simply for the sake of seeing you. Severus
doesn’t know I sent this to you, nor does he know of my true intentions
in regards to this war. I dare not say anything within this letter, and
would rather say anything further to your face, but that solely depends
on you. If there is anything, and I do mean anything, I could do to
persuade you please, send back a reply with my owl.
In truest regards,
Draco

p.s. I do mean anything you know. You name it. Say, perhaps, and
this is merely for exemplary reasons, but just say that it were something
along the lines of physical gratification purposes such as sexual favors.
You get my point. That said however, what would it take from me to get a
fairly decent reaction from you?

I re-read the letter once more before hinting to the owl I needed my arm back. She hooted once but willingly perched on the bed post and watched me. I sat at my desk and pulled out a quill and piece of parchment.

Draco,
I tell you this now, and further find myself stunned and amazed that
you are the one causing such a reaction but you sir surprise me in ways
I never thought humanly possible. If you truly wish to see me, then make
yourself available at my earliest convenience. Say, this Saturday at one
twenty-two in the morning? I can assure you, if you can be at the edge of
the playground located at the north end of Privet Drive at that time, I
will answer any and all of your questions. As much as your actions have
unbalanced my I can care less that you chose yourself over him. He is
dead. It happens to everyone, including Tom, you, and yes, even me. Though
for some it comes sooner than we’d like and for others, it’s a distant
event that seems unwilling to happen when we’d like it to. As for my return
to school, I doubt I will. Regardless, we can discuss this, and whatever
else crosses your mind when we meet.
In Sincerest Regards,
The Chosen One

p.s. As for a ‘fairly decent reaction,’ try physical abuse. It seems
to work best. And a bit of a warning, I may be The Chosen One in the Wizarding
World but outside of that world I am not allowed to go anywhere I please
without consent of my Aunt and Uncle. Not that their threats are any less
dire than Tom’s but at least curses are the least of my worries where they’re
concerned. Bloody Muggles…

I scanned my letter once more and attached it to the owl’s leg. “Alright, send this back to him. And nip his ear once, just for me.” I smirked and the bird took off. I sat back and sighed. All I had to do now was wait and see what Draco would say to that. I doubted he would show up, nearly almost as much as I questioned if it was really him writing that. I sighed once more and stood up. I grabbed a black tank and a pair of sandals (I may not be allowed out without consent but when I am forced to tag along I make the best of it whenever I can) and made my way back downstairs.

Piers had left and Dudley was once again sitting in front of the television. I resumed my lounge in the armchair and watched the new match with poorly concealed disinterest. “Who won the other match?”

“Dunno, missed the end of it. Not really paying attention to this one either.” Dudley replied obviously unaware of who was talking to him. “Wanna watch something else?” He offered the remote to me which I took and flicked to the news.

“Just for a minute mind you. Wanna know what’s happening in the outside world I am not allowed in.” I said coolly, trying to make him notice who was in the room with him.

“Yea, sure. I’m getting a drink, want anything?” He got up and glanced over at me briefly. “Err, dad’s got some beer or something in the garage if you’d rather…”

I looked at him and nodded. “If there’s ale, sure, if not I’ll have ice water with some poisonous chemicals. Stirred, not shaken.” He looked at me curiously for a moment then turned and went to the garage to get the drinks. I doubt he understood what I said. I looked back at the television and cocked my head to the side as I saw nothing of interest. Dudley returned a few moments later and handed me a bottle of ale then sat back down on the couch.

“What was with the owl earlier?” he asked, disinterest in the television clearly making him strive for amusement. And what better amusement than me, right?

“It was an owl from one of my peers at school. He just wanted to make himself clear in regards to certain aspects of this previous school year.” I replied. Why hide the truth when Dudley was most likely going die anyway?

“What happened?”

I downed the ale he had given me and sat up in the chair. I thought of the couch in the Slytherin dorms and decided that they were much more comfortable, especially when sprawled across them with nothing better to do than come up with plans to ruin other people’s days. “The headmaster was murdered.” I watched Dudley for a reaction and wasn’t disappointed when his jaw dropped. “Yea, another professor murdered him because the schoolmate who wrote me chickened out.” I calmly gazed past Dudley and out the window; Uncle Vernon was walking up the drive. “But it doesn’t matter cause in the end we’re all gonna die so it is better that we aren’t being led on by false hope from an old geezer that couldn’t seem to see that I can’t do shit against the fucker who is behind the whole bloody war!” I stood up and walked out of the room, content on leaving before my uncle could walk through the door.

Dudley followed, still curious. “How was he murdered Harry? A gun or something?” Dudley followed me as I walked back upstairs.
“No Dudders. There are no guns in Freak Land. He was killed by a spell.” Stupid Muggle cousin. I sprawled across my too-small bed and pulled out a quill and notepad. I was trying to come up with a design similar to the Dark Mark but rather than instilling fear it would be like, well, like Batman’s bat signal. I chuckled as the thought crossed my mind for the first time. I had been fiddling with the use of a phoenix.

“What kind of spell? Can you show me?” Dudley pulled up the chair from my desk and sat down on it. I arched an eyebrow at him from over the top of the notepad.

“I’m not allowed Dudders. It’s called the Killing Curse. An unforgivable spell because it allows the caster to kill his or her opponent without ever really getting his, or her, hands dirty. Useful I guess, if you want to get shipped off to Azkaban, become a murderer and earn your own death sentence but still, unforgiveable. Thus it’s one of the three curses called Unforgivables.” I turned back to my drawing; I was thinking Phoenix Shadows as my cult minions. It could work.

Dudley thought about what I had said. “What’s err, Azker-whatever you just said? And what are the other curses you can’t say?” He was truly hooked on this.

I sighed heavily and put the pad and quill down. “Azkaban, Dudders, is the Wizarding jail located on a remote island that is near impossible to escape from. It is guarded by dementors, those creepy things from two summers ago that sucked all the happiness out of you, remember?” He nodded. “The other Unforgiveables are the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse. The Cruciatus is the torture curse, causing its victim to experience the most excruciating pain. There is really no way to avoid the pain. The Imperius is a mind controlling curse. I think that is self-explanatory even for you.” I gave him a look that clearly said I had little faith in his ability to grasp anything.

“Have you ever been victim to any of them?” I couldn’t believe how fascinated Dudley was by this!

“Yea. My scar comes from the killing curse that left me the only wizard able to survive it. Don’t ask how, it’s too difficult to explain but it won’t happen again. I have also been victim to the Cruciatus curse. Not so bad really, considering I’m a fucking masochist. And the Imperius curse… it was thrown at me as a demonstration in class once. I was the only one to throw it off.” I honestly should have been happy by that but I wasn’t even the slightest bit amused.

“Wow. That’s kinda cool!” Dudley commented. “So you’ve avoided death since you were a kid!”

“Sure Dudders. If that’s really what you wanna think, then sure. I’m fucking Harry Houdini.” I picked up the pad and quill and made some final touches to the crying phoenix image I drew. My mark; the mark of the Shadows; my Shadows. I grinned. All I had to do now was figure out how to get it to do what I want. Perhaps a trip to Diagon Alley or maybe…

“Hey, Harry. That bird is back.” Dudley fell out of the chair as the bird swooped into the window once again and landed on the bed in front of me.

“I didn’t notice.” I quirked an eyebrow in sarcasm but turned my attention to the gorgeous owl. “Hello beautiful, did you nip his ear for me?” The owl hooted gleefully, a definite ‘yes’ if I ever heard one. I removed the note from her leg and read it.

The Chosen One,
You will never cease to entertain me, Potter. The Chosen One?
Don’t tell me this is going to your head. But of course, I will
meet you at the requested time in the requested location. And did
you tell my bird to nip my ear? That hurt! Heh, for some reason I
feel beyond comfortable talking to you like this. I hope seeing
your face won’t change that. So a masochist? By the gods of the
fucked up arse-holes who swear by the graves of the deceased that
they are gods of those unworthy enough to be called gods! I’m
turned on by a black-haired, green-eyed, MASOCHIST!!! I didn’t
say that. Really! Oh fuck, and this is not worth re-writing. See
you Saturday, Chosen One. Oh, please let my owl stay with you till
then, she’s been getting fidgety over here. Till Saturday…
Truly,
Draco
p.s. Cuffs or rope?

I blinked a few times and re-read the note. A smile slowly formed on my face, evolving rapidly into the first real smile I’ve had since I returned to my aunt’s house. I laughed. I truly laughed so hard that it started to hurt. “I actually caught him off guard!” I fell over, still laughing, and nearly fell off my bed. “I can’t believe it!”

“Who? That friend from school? Harry! Who!?” Dudley scooted away from me as I reached for a blank sheet of paper off my desk to write a reply.

“Yea, the guy who couldn’t kill the headmaster.” I laughed again. Now do I prefer cuffs or ropes? I wrote a reply quickly, still smirking. I tied the letter back to Draco’s owl’s leg and kissed her head. “You, my darling, will be staying with me for a bit so I guess you should come back here when you finish.” The owl hooted and took off. I watched her amusedly and wondered what Draco would think when he read that one.

~*~

Draco sat in the attic of the dingy house he was staying in with his godfather. He was fiddling – yes, he was fiddling – with a few different spells he had managed to locate in the depths of the odd assortment of books he found when his owl hooted in front of him. “What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to be there… with him.” He untied the letter and read it.

Draco,
I haven’t laughed so hard or so honestly in so long you should
be honored you got such a reaction from me. Ropes or cuffs? Raw
scratchy ropes or spiked cuffs, the spikes hafta be on the inside
so they puncture the skin if the wearer pulls too hard. If this is
the reaction your writing is pulling from me then I am quite positive
I won’t be able to wait until Saturday to see you. And of course, your
lovely owl can stay with me. I’m sure Hedwig won’t mind the company
when she returns. If she returns. Regardless, meet me tonight at the
requested location at midnight. Fuck kink-toys; just bring yourself
and some rubbers. I always wanted to fuck around on the swings… and
the slide… and the see-saw… and the merry-go-round. Goddamn you Drake.
My stomach hurts from laughing so hard!
Still laughing,
The Chosen One

Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin, the sole heir to the Malfoy name and otherwise unable to truly smile, laughed. “He didn’t answer my question but who cares! I made him laugh! Me, his sworn enemy, made him, the Chosen One, LAUGH!” He fell backwards in a fit of giggles at the mere thought of making Harry Potter laugh. “Tonight! He wants to meet tonight!” Draco jumped to his feet and began dancing around the attic. His owl cocked her head to the side as she watched her owner prance about so totally out of character. She hooted softly.

“What should I wear? Or should I go starkers beneath my robe? I mean, he said bring myself and rubbers right? This is too amazing! I made him laugh!!” Draco giggled again and didn’t notice that his godfather was standing in the doorway.

“Made who laugh, Draco?” Severus’ cold voice pierced the happy bubble surrounding Draco with, to Draco, was an absurdly loud and unwelcomed pop.

“Oh, Severus, I didn’t see you standing there.” Draco cleared his throat and straightened his appearance. “No one, Severus. It was nothing. I was umm,” Draco glanced at the floor where books on spells to sexually stimulate and please your partner lay open. “I was testing a spell. I succeeded.” He flashed a grin at his godfather.

“Nice try but not good enough. Who did you make laugh?” Severus crossed his arms over his chest and watched his godson fidget. Draco didn’t normally fidget. He must really be the cat who swallowed the canary.

“Fiera did it.” Draco pointed to his owl, who hooted quite indignantly and flew up to nip the finger pointing at her. “OW!” Draco sucked his finger into his mouth, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

“I find that hard to believe. Are you going to tell me or no?” Severus bit the inside of his mouth to avoid smiling at his godson’s antics.

“Hawwy powwer.” Draco mumbled with his finger in his mouth. He glared at Severus, who, for the life of him, couldn’t figure it out.

“One more time please, without the finger in your mouth.” Severus glared.

“Like I’m telling you!” Draco sneered and picked up the books and papers from the floor. “I’ll be wreaking havoc in my room.” He flashed a quick grin and walked past his godfather and down the stairs leading to his room. Severus rolled his eyes and looked for the owl. She had, in a split moment, vanished out the window and back to Harry just as she was told.

TBC… (I promise this time ^_^)

A/N: I named Draco’s owl, why? Because I can. I don’t think the owl was ever named anyway so tough cookies =P