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Why Do You Even Care?	By : DrapedInBlack Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11141 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Why Do You Even Care?

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Disclaimer: I really don�t see the point in these. I think
we all know that I don�t own the damn thing. Except for my pathetic girlish
fantasies�but, it�s what gets me through my sleepless nights.

Well,
on with the story!!!

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Chapter
3:

Draco�s
POV:

I went in quickly, so that no one tried to associate with
me. Nobody did. Slipping past the great hall, I behind some statues Lucky me; the statues were animated ones and
they questioned my presence. I told them I wasn�t going to harm them or anyone
else; I just wanted a place to hide from all the other students until the
ceremony was over.

They asked to see my face.

I hesitantly did so, but hell, they were statues!
They wouldn�t tell anyone. So I showed them and they nodded their heavy
heads. They didn�t acknowledge my bruises; they just wanted to confirm that I
was actually a student. And I seemed to please them because they moved closer
together, giving me even more shelter. Relaxing, I listened to the opening
ceremony. It was boring (as usual), with the sorting and whatnot.

We got about 13 new Slytherins and Gryffindors got the same;
ironic how we were often so in sync. The feast began - you could tell with the
immense clatter of plates and the consistent chatter. I thought about the feast
for a minute and realized I hadn�t eaten in about two days now. I wasn�t really
hungry though. Nothing seemed appealing, �cept maybe a bit of rum and coke.

And a nice drag to go with it. God what I would do for a
drag� but if I did it now I would inevitably get caught. Finally, I heard the
stomping of shoes hitting the overly polished floor. I hunched down and made
myself as unnoticeable as I possibly could. When the main flow of them were
gone, I quickly snuck around to where the Slytherin House was. It felt like the
dungeons had gotten even colder than before.

Staying hidden from the group, I ran.

I heard the prefect speak the password � Pasilmin� to
everyone. They all filed in and the door closed. I waited to catch my breath
and regained my smug and arrogant demeanor; trying not to appear as weak as I
felt. I stepped up to the portrait and it asked for the password.

�Pasilmin.� I spoke. The portrait swung open and I entered
inside to the common room.

I tried to slip past, but it seemed that I stuck out with
the black cloak and all.

�Hey, who are you?� Crabbe asked me. I kept walking,
pretending I didn�t hear him. � Hey! I�m talking to you, in the black cloak!�

I quickly regained my composure and spoke in my fake
superior voice.

�Merlin Crabbe, it�s Malfoy you stupid git! I wasn�t in the
mood of being blessed with your idiotic presence. I came in like this hoping I
wouldn�t be spoken to, but it seems nothing gets past you.� I laced every word
with my common use of sarcasm and cruelty.

Thanks, Lucius, I thought bitterly.

�I�m not feeling well so leave me alone, or face dire
consequences.� And with that, I strode away, still exuding disdain and contempt
for all around me. I�m pretty sure I left him there trying to understand the
meaning of what I had just said. I went into my room and was immensely relieved
to see my stuff. I quickly ran to my trunk, grabbing a random pair of pants and
a comfortable long sleeve shirt to sleep that night. Also some other bathroom
necessities. Before anyone had time to acknowledge me, I ran into one of the
guy�s bathrooms and locked the door.

I took a deep breath and exhaled it, quite a bit relieved. I
felt so much better that I had just made it this far, hiding myself before I
took my shower. Hopefully, I would look a little better after I did.

Turning on the faucet in the shower, I waited for it to warm
up. In the meantime I threw my bag onto the ground and then stripped off my
clothes, my chains rattling as they were gently pulled off.

I was in so much pain.

It still hurt to move.

I saw that the water was warm, so I plugged up the stopper
and it slowly filled up. I glanced in the mirror at my torso, disgusted at my
cuts from before. They still had dried wax inside of it, making the lacerations
red and purple around the rims.

Great, it was infected; maybe one of my healing charms could
fix that later.

There was dried sperm and blood on the back of my leg. It
was revolting. A wave of nausea flooded me and I flipped up the toilet seat and
threw up.

It hurt more than it usually would, because my stomach was
empty. I just gagged and my eyes got blurry. All I could feel coming up was the
acids from the lining of my stomach, burning the insides of my throat; painted
on my tongue and teeth.

I finally took a couple of deep breaths, hoping that it
would blow over. In the end it did and I calmed down. Resting my head, I peeked
back over to the bath. It was now full. So I shut it off, and slowly stood up
from my feeble position on the cool tile floor. I got a small handful of water
from the sink and sloshed it around in my mouth and spit it out, trying to get
the taste of bile out. I walked closer to the shower and hesitantly lifted a
foot. Gracefully, I placed it inside the warm water.

I bit my lip from screaming out; it stung like a thousand
needles were being pushed into my foot! I knew I had to get in, though. In a
very slow, excruciatingly painful couple of minutes I was finally lying back in
the tub. The dirt, blood, and whatever the hell else covered my body, started
to swirl around me. I helped it out a bit, but the most agonizing part was
trying to get the candle wax out of my already scabbing cuts. So I had to pick
at them to reach all of the wax. I dug the black substance out of my skin, getting
it out of all the crevices.

It started bleeding quite a bit into the water, but it
helped to get the wax out. Finally all traces of the wax was gone, even the
little bit that was in the cut on my lip. I lifted myself out of the tub and
drained the murky water. And then turning on the faucet once more, I watched
the warm water flow out. It was relaxing. I pulled the showerhead on, letting
the water cascade down my slender body. Bringing out my shampoo from my bag, I
opened the top, inhaling the sweet smell of cinnamon and pouring it into my
scratched hands. I lathered the substance until it was bubbly.

Then I ran it through my blond hair. But as I got further
back I hissed when it stung, completely forgetting about the head wound I had
received. It continued to burn, but I let it go and rinsed out the shampoo and
then getting out conditioner. The same cinnamon smell exited the tip of the
bottle, and I lathered it up, running it through my scalp. I let that stay in
as I got out my soap and cleaned up my body. I watched as more blood and dirt
fell from me. Even though a painful experience, my wounds felt so much better
and I felt I could somewhat breathe. My conditioner was now out, so I shut off
the water and reached for a towel on top of counter.

I dried off and went to look in the mirror. I held my head
low, hoping that I would look better than I did. I still looked like I was
beaten.

What would I tell people?

Sighing once more I threw my pants on and looked once more
at my upper body. I saw the rose burn I made from the other night. That made a
small smile spread across my reddened lips. It was beautiful; maybe my best
yet. I pulled my big shirt on and placed my towel over my head, covering my
face, making it look like I was drying my hair. I exited the safe confinements
of the bathroom, just trying to make it to my bed unseen. Obviously It�s just
not my day.

� Hey Draco, we didn�t see you at the opening ceremony.
Where were you?� A random fifth year asked me.

� Leave me alone, I�m going to sleep.� I angrily said to
him. He backed off. I quickly closed the curtains around my bed, casting a
silencing spell and a warding charm. I set my wand down on my nightstand. I
decided not to smoke, or drink for that matter. Maybe tomorrow. I let my eyes
drift close and I fell asleep.

_-----_-----_

Normal POV:

Harry followed his friends to the common room, not really
listening to their excessive babbling about this year. Hermione was thinking about
studying starting tomorrow on material that would be on the N.E.W.T.s, and Ron
was complaining that she needed to lighten up. Then he started kissing her
neck.

Harry grew annoyed, not by them, just by the fact that he
was thinking about Malfoy again.

He was missing from the ceremony, the feast, everything, and
if anyone shouldn�t be skipping meals is him. He didn�t get anything from the
trolley when the lady came by on the train either. He really worried if Malfoy
was okay; he seemed to be hiding the fact that he was in pain.

Harry collapsed onto his bed once he got into the guys�
dorms. He was tired of thinking, though it wasn�t even late, but everyone else
was doing something� or someone. The Gryffindor placed his glasses on
his bedside desk and let his eyes drift off to sleep.

_-----_-----_

The next morning Harry woke up early. He took the
opportunity to grab one of the showers before anyone else. He took a quick one,
not even bothering to brush his hair afterwards and exited out of the bathroom
fully dressed. By then most of the other kids were up, some showered and
somewhat ready. Harry walked down into the common room.

Breakfast was going to start in about ten minutes, but he
wanted to be there beforehand. He told his friends he was going to go ahead and
go and that he would meet them at breakfast. He went down the hall, seeing a
few other students.

He wondered how Malfoy was looking this morning, so he
waited, hoping he would pass by like he usually did around this time, but he
didn�t. Finally Harry looked back and he saw his friends and waved. They walked
together and went to sit down.

�So, what did you have to do Harry� The often curious
Hermione asked.

�Oh nothing, I just felt like getting out and walking
around. I went to bed early last night so I had pent up energy.� Harry said
smiling. The food appeared and everyone started grabbing some. Harry got some
bacon, eggs�the regular. He nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder over at the
Slytherin table. He wasn�t there.

Stop worrying about the arrogant prat! Harry�s mind
yelled at him.

He did as he was told�so to say.

Everyone started heading to class. Luckily for them they had
Potions first, and then Transfiguration. So, Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed to
Potions class. They all found their seats, the three aiming for the back. Snape
entered late and dramatically as usual. He got up in the front of class and
check-marked who was there. He glanced over the Gryffindors and then the
Slytherins. He paused and spoke up, directing a question at the seventh year
Slytherins.

�Where�s Mr. Malfoy?� Harry listened intently.

Blaise spoke up for the group. �He wasn�t feeling well, sir.
He said he would go to Madam Pomfrey.�

Snape scowled but continued class. They were making some
potion, Harry wasn�t quite sure which, but he paired up with Ron and Hermione
anyway. She brewed the potion, asking Harry to hand her things, or put in
certain things.

Why can�t I concentrate?! Harry thought angrily.
Potions class finally ended, with the relief to everyone. He ran off, leaving
his friends behind, following the Slytherins to Madam Pomfrey. He stayed behind
the door and listened in to the conversation.

�Umm�has Draco Malfoy been in here today?� A seventh year
girl asked.

�No�he hasn�t was he supposed to be?� She asked with a hint
of worry in her voice.

�No, he had a headache that�s all, we weren�t sure if he
would come here or not. Thanks though.�

She nodded. Harry took in air sharply. It seemed he had been
the only one to see him the way he was. He checked his watch. �Shit.� He
murmured. He was going to be late for Transfiguration.

Harry hustled down the halls and he made it just in the nick
of time. He sat next to Neville - that being the only seat left. Neville smiled
at Harry and Harry smiled back. Then they went on with class, reviewing how to
transfigure living things. Not hard - it was more or less a recap, to get the
group used to transfiguration spells again. It wasn�t too tough that day, so
Harry tried his best to pay attention. Though it only did so much.

Currently, half of Harry�s mind was being rebellious and the
other was trying to reasonable; reminding him of his morals.

YOU HATE MALFOY. The other begged to differ.

Do you really hate him? You can�t get him out of your
head. He�s on your mind when he�s being arrogant, and he�s on your mind when
he�s mentally or physically hurt. Either way, it�s about him, good or
bad. You know you�re worried about him.

The other�

YOU HATE MALFOY.

So, the other was a bit primitive in its reasoning. Harry
shook out of it and let his face fall to the desk.

�I�m loosing it.� He murmured aloud, only audible to his
ears.

Class ended quite quickly in Harry�s mind; he had no idea
what they had covered after the review. Bunch of notes really�but it was lunch
now, so Harry and his friends all huddled in a group and headed for the Great
Hall. Harry hoped to see Draco at the Slytherin table, but yet again he was
missing.

And as the day went on, he was not seen. Anywhere. Harry
didn�t have the nerve to ask where he was. So he let it be and tried to walk it
off. More or less� literally. They had no classes in the afternoon, so for his
two best friends it was of for a lovely afternoon of studying and snogging.

He guessed he somewhat felt left out with them, but
partially relieved. They were sometimes clingy, making him feel trapped. So,
this year he had more time to relax. He got to take walks alone and not having
to be �The perfect, amazing, beat Voldemort god only knows how many times, the
great Boy-Who-Lived, Saviour of the wizarding world.� He never asked to be
those things, never wanted to be either.

Sure I guess for the first week it was kind of cool, hell
maybe even the first year, because we had done something amazing. He thought as he lay against the comforting
bark of an old oak tree. But then from that point on I was expected to be
everyone�s protector, when I never wanted the job to begin with. I just did
what was right, but I want a life too. I want a life not followed by the press.
I want to have secrets too. I want to be able to breathe and stretch my arms
without hitting someone else.

_-----_-----_

Draco�s POV:

I sat in my room, free of covers and curtains, knowing that
everyone was in class. I wasn�t sure if I was okay or not. I had been thinking
about it for a couple hours now, about what Lucius did to me.

He�s right.

I really am worthless.

No one would ever love the gay son of a death eater. Really
sounds appealing huh... I wouldn�t go for someone like that. No one would. I
have no good traits, I�m not beautiful enough for anyone, and I�m covered in
scars - things I�m sure only I find gorgeous.

Harry had seen me.

What did he think?

Tainted, dirtied, unworthy of his eyes? He probably wanted
to know what happened to mock and ridicule me for. He would probably tell the
school and get his kicks out of it. Fuck him, not that I don�t deserve it.

Lucius made me hate him, Lucius made me mock him in everyway
I possibly could. I felt like a drag; not having for almost twenty-four hours
can get to you. I reached into my bag and went to grab my cigarettes and
lighter, but the bag fell over. The contents spilled out over my bed; one of
the cookie cutters nicked my finger. A little droplet of blood oozed out and a
smile spread across my lips.

I lit my drag, placing the bittersweet substance in my
mouth, tasting, breathing every bit of it. My nerves relaxed, calming my racing
mind and heart. I pulled out my black and green embroidered dagger with the
slight curve on the blade.

It was my favorite. I unsheathed it and gazed at the glossy
outlook of the weapon. How I loved it so. I rolled up my long sleeved shirt up
to my elbows. I was sick of what was safe. If that makes any sense to you in
the slightest I�d be surprised. I wasn�t sure if I wanted to die or not,
pathetic huh? Some days I did, some days I didn�t. I was thinking, maybe luck
or fate would decide for me.

So� I�ll just cut with my heated blade across my thin wrist.
And if I die from it, it was meant to be, if not then it wasn�t�though that may
not always apply, I�m sure I�ll do something like this again.

But, as I lit the lighter my thoughts got worse and my
indecisiveness was being battled over.

Did I really want this life? The question froze in his mind
for quite some time. I had just determined to let fate decide and now I don�t
even want that. Finally, his eyes fell to his body, looking over it.

I don�t want this life.

Yeah, I know I sound like the epitome of the average
suicidal kid. �Oh people hate me�oh I�m different�oh I hate myself�blah blah
blah.� I know that already! I know, and people would just tell me to suck it up
and stop acting melodramatic. Maybe their right, maybe I�m over reacting. But
when you laugh, and make fun of the reasons someone puts out to you...did you
even stop to think of what those feelings would feel like?

How everyday gets worse, watching your life die out, with no
excitement in it. You�re going to die eventually. Why not do it sooner than
later? I don�t ask to be a burden; throw me in the river when you find my body.
I won�t mind, honest. If I had to put my reasons bluntly, I guess it would be
because I�m no longer accepted in this world. I�m not what I hold up to be; I�m
not my real self. I�d rather die then stay living with my surreal life.

Call me a hopeless romantic, but I wanted to lose my
virginity with someone I loved. Not to my father. Can you imagine what that
feels like?

When I think back, I can still feel his heavy weight atop
me; I can still feel him inside of me. They say that your first time is
supposed to be memorable. This isn�t exactly what I had hoped for. About the
whole self-mutilation issue, well, it started out when I was somewhat young. I
used to purposely break a bone, or cut my arm, hoping my parents would treat
it, or worry over me.

But, they only sent me to a house elf, told me to tell them
to fix it. I did with the bones, but I started to like the cuts and the
�accidental� oven burns. If you look on my left hand, there are faint burn
marks of a rack on the inside of the oven. I placed my hand on it and that was
the first time. I was amazed watching the house elf use it to cook; they liked
doing it the muggle way for some odd reason. But the meat would turn colors and
cook. So I wondered what it would do if I put my hand in there. I didn�t expect
it to hurt as much as it did, but after a just a split second burn marks had
appeared and the pain had stopped.

Blisters appeared, and they did hurt, but I liked it.

By that point I just did it for myself. Playing with random
things throughout the house that could possibly make beautiful designs. I did put
hairspray once on a normal cut, they say it makes the wound elevate. It was fun
at the beginning, but things faded out, and I found new, more dangerous habit.
The designs became bigger, the cuts became deeper, and the degrees of burn
increased. Now, I end up here, out of enjoyments. Even when my father found
out, he only laughed and made it worse. If I can�t even get love from the ones
that created me, how was I to get it from anyone else?

So, I return to the starting statement. I don�t want this
life.

And with that, it was decided. Though I didn�t know if I
could kill myself with a heated blade, because before it would just hurt more
and stop the bleeding. But, a small rush of adrenaline pumped through my body.
I wanted to try it anyway. And the great part was...if I failed, I could always
finish it off with the common, yet successful ways of suicide. I wanted to at
least add a little Malfoy spice to it. If the spice fails, then I�ll just stick
with the old.

I swiveled the curtains around my bed and placed the same
spells as last night on them. I placed the flame on the metal until it got hot
enough. I hovered it over the pale skin; seeing the blue veins underneath. I
let out all my air and slashed it. I saw the blood leave my left wrist, not
sure of what to do.

Do I just lay here until I die�is it supposed to hurt?

But my eyes did get hazy, watching the scenery swirl
together. I looked back at my wrist; the blood had made a good sized puddle
around my hand, but it was no longer pouring out as much, it had slowed down
due to the rising and swelling of the skin by the second degree burns. I didn�t
care at that point; I was too tired to care.

So I let my eyes close, my thoughts drifting away from me,
leaving unanswered questions.

I feel no pain�is suicide painless?

Will I wake up after this?

Is it bleeding enough?

But they ended soon after.

I lost my sight, and my breath slowed down�

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Alright, that was Chapter 3!!! So, did you like it?
Review!!! Please! Oddly today, I�ve been singing in a show tune-ish voice�ALL
DAY!! I�m driving myself crazy�absolutely crazy! I can�t stop. I�ve tried. I�m
singing now�and yet I haven�t stopped. I sound like the back round music on
Bambi.

Somebody help me!!!!!

Oh yeah�and please review�.please?

-DrapedInBlack
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Why Do You Even Care?

Chapter3:

Draco�sPOV:

Chapter
3:

Draco�s
POV: