HP Fanfic: Mark My Words
Title: Mark My Words
Beta(s): nicevenn & groolover
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3874
Summary: "We all leave marks on one another-some big and some small."
Author's Notes: An 8th year fic, written as a stocking stuffer for lullabylily .
"Potter."
Harry sighed. He had hoped that now, after the war and after everything that had happened in the aftermath, he and Draco Malfoy could put this ridiculous feud behind them. He felt like he had aged so damned much in the last few months, and though their rivalry had escalated to something beyond petty childhood issues, he had thought that, at the very least, they could manage to be civil to one another.
"Yes?"
Malfoy stood against the door to an empty classroom, with his hands tucked behind him. "I'd like to speak with you. Do you think we could have a moment in private?"
Harry glanced around the empty hallway. McGonagall had released the eighth years to their dormitories with the rather stern demand that they all be in the Great Hall well before the second to seventh years arrived. They did not have much time, but there was enough for a quick conversation. Something in the pit of his stomach twisted, and Harry ignored it. In the past, it would have been suspicion that he was walking into a particularly nasty trap, and while there was a tinge of suspicion to this feeling, Harry knew that was not more than ten percent of what he was feeling.
The rest, however, he had no name for.
"Yes, fine." He stepped through the doorway as Malfoy gestured him inside, then blinked in the dark and lit the three small lamps at the front of the room with his wand. The desks were stacked along the back wall, and few of the shelves held any books or anything else that might help the instructor for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. That would all be done before the first lesson. For now, the castle had an oddly deserted feeling. At least the majority of physical and structural damage had been repaired. Harry was not certain he could have dealt with seeing that on his first day back.
The door swung shut behind them, and Harry heard the soft click of a lock catching. The feeling of not-quite-suspicion twisted in his stomach again, and Harry was glad he had not yet eaten for the evening. "Malfoy?"
The other boy simply stood not far from the professor's lectern. "You don't need to worry, Potter." He shifted uncomfortably. "I realise this may sound odd, but...may I call you 'Harry'?"
Harry blinked at him, the light from the flames reflecting within the edge of his lenses to ring everything in gold. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good. It doesn't feel right to call you 'Potter' with what I'm about to say."
Warily, Harry nodded. "All right. Well, floor's yours. Whenever you're ready."
Malfoy-Draco, Harry supposed, now they were on a first-name basis-took a deep breath. "You...you've been a bigger part of my life than I suppose you realise, Harry. You see, when I was growing up, I heard stories about you. All the other children who weren't Muggle-born did. You were in the history books, and there were even bedtime stories about you and your parents and the Order. Granted, there weren't many of those in my home, as I'm certain doesn't shock you. But I knew of them. Every child wanted to be your friend. I knew, very early on, that having you in my social circle could only be beneficial."
Harry wondered if this was going to be a very long speech, and if there was going to be a history lesson involved or something. Malfoy-no, Draco-looked decidedly determined, if a bit nervous. "Oh?"
"Yes. I was raised more to know the value of connections than I was to know the value of friendship. In some ways, it served me very well. As was my father's hope. But that doesn't matter to you. Hopefully, the rest of what I have to say will."
"All right," Harry said. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Guess I haven't learnt that bit of manners." He winced when he realised that sounded like a dig at the other boy.
Surprisingly, Draco smiled softly and appeared to relax. "I won't hold it against you. This time. As I was saying. When I was eleven, once I knew who you were, not being smart enough to see it in Madam Malkin's, I tried to extend an offer of friendship. Only, of course, it was more about social connection than actual friendship. Which you did not seem to need explained, really. And I hated you for it. No one had ever turned me down so rudely. Not with who my father was."
Harry bit his lip to keep from interrupting. He did not want to be here, in this half-lit room, while his friends finished up their unpacking and made their way to the Great Hall for supper and the Welcoming Feast and the Sorting Ceremony. Nothing against Mal-Draco, since this was actually the politest he'd ever been, and certainly the most he'd ever said to Harry in conversation, but the situation was very awkward, and Harry didn't have anywhere to put his hands. He settled for shoving them in his pockets, feeling his wand through the material. That reminded him. "I know I said I wouldn't interrupt, but before I forget...Draco...I wanted to let you know I have your wand. I'd like to return it."
Draco smiled again, a little more broadly. "Thank you, Potter. I'll try to wrap this up. I just need to say this, and then the rest is up to you."
Harry nodded. He had not ever guessed Draco could be so mature, so calm about anything. "All right. Please. Go on."
"Thank you, Harry." Draco fiddled with the collar of his robes, and for the first time, Harry saw his Dark Mark clearly. He had known it was there, of course-it had come up when Harry had testified in a number of trials after the war. It was faded now, little more than a patch of slightly darker skin in a vague skull-and-snake shape. If you didn't know what it was, you probably wouldn't recognise it. Just the same as if you didn't know about Harry's scar, you might miss seeing it at all. "Jumping right ahead, for the sake of time: You've given me things you might not know about, as well. You gave me this."
Draco undid his collar with one hand and pulled it aside, exposing chest and shoulder. Harry saw the lines of a scar, thick where it disappeared underneath Draco's robes and thinner up toward his shoulder. He felt himself go pale. "I didn't...I thought Snape..." He suddenly felt quite a bit more ill than nervous or suspicious.
Draco only watched him for a moment before he shook his head. "Harry. Breathe. I'll always have these scars, I fear." When Harry startled at the use of the plural, Draco gave him a very peculiar little smile. "Yes, scars. More than one. The others aren't nearly so bad as this. But my point is this: you've marked me, and I'll never forget you, no matter how hard I try. But not for this. Yes, this is something I'll always see, something anyone who ever gets close to me will see, but that's not how I'll remember you."
"You. I. I'm sorry, what?"
"Eloquent as always," Draco said with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry if I'm being cryptic. This is quite difficult. I suppose what I need to say most is 'thank you'. Thank you for your testimony. I know how much you hated me, but you still testified on my behalf, not to mention that you cleared my mother's name and gave her more credit than you ever had to."
"She did save my life, even if it was just for you, M-Draco. A mother's love for her son. That's something I can understand, you know." Harry spoke softly and looked down at the stone floor. Couldn't Draco have just written him a letter and saved them both this awkwardness?
"Right. Of course you can. What I..." Draco cut himself off with a disgusted sigh. "Okay. Look. I was raised to be polite at the right moments and diplomatic when it suited me, but also with the thought that I was better than most people. And while I really want to do this correctly, and express myself fully, not all of that can be done together."
Harry blinked. "All right. Um. Say what you need to, I guess. You've already got the basics across."
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I showed you the scar. It obviously affects you. I didn't mean to induce guilt, Harry." Harry cocked his head a little when he noticed that this somewhat more straightforward Draco Malfoy still chose to use his given name. "I want you to know I don't hold it against you. I tried to toss an Unforgivable at you, and I know now that you had no idea what that spell you flung at me would do. I probably would have done the same, in your place. So. That's that. I also managed to thank you for your testimony. I owe you my freedom for that." He held up a hand when he saw Harry open his mouth to protest. "Let me finish, or I'll never get up the courage to say the rest."
Despite Harry's resolutely snapping his mouth shut, Draco did not speak for several long moments. "I also owe you my life. You pulled me onto the back of your broom with Fiendfyre roaring around the two of us. You could have very easily left me there, and absolutely no one would have blamed you. You know, while I waited to learn my fate during the trials, I'd catch myself thinking about that moment. The absolute terror, and then the physical feeling of you hoisting me up and the feel of you, solid and real, in my arms as I held on. I remember thinking you were a better person than I could ever be. And I was ashamed. Merlin help me, all I ever did my entire life were things that I thought would benefit me."
Harry waited, but Draco did not say anything else. "Well. You're not doing that now."
Draco finally looked up. "Aren't I?"
"What? This sounds like a sincere apology, Draco. I mean, I never thought I'd see the day, but how could you possibly be working this to your advantage right now?"
With a small shake of his head, Draco sighed. "I am being honest and sincere with you, Harry. I meant everything I said. And yet..."
"And yet what?"
"I'm still trying to get what I want."
"What's that?"
Draco squirmed. "Approval. Forgiveness. It's why I haven't mentioned the rest. But I've already said I'm done after this. After this conversation, we both go our separate ways, and any later move is yours, even if that is absolutely no move at all."
"And what's the rest?"
There was a furious flush on the other boy's cheek, and Harry wanted to reach out an arm and put it on his shoulder. When he acted on impulse and did so, Draco jerked underneath his touch and raised shocked grey eyes up to meet Harry's. Harry thought, for the first time since it had happened, of what it had felt like to have Draco's arms wrapped around him. It had been a desperate embrace, so tight it had hurt, and there'd been nothing soft or kind about it at all. And then he took a good look at Draco and saw what lay beneath the shock and the flush and the hitch in breathing.
"You really want to know?"
Harry swallowed hard. There had always been something here, something between them, hadn't there? Just in other forms. He was terrified of what Draco might say, but also eager to hear it. His brain told him that wasn't right, but the twisting of his stomach and tightening in his chest, almost like the feel of Draco's arms around him up in the smoke-filled air, said it didn't much care what his brain thought on the matter. "Yes."
"I've not told you the rest because you've taken this well so far. But when I said I thought about you in the time leading up to my trial, that wasn't the whole truth. I thought about you after, too. I thought about the way you looked at me, and it wasn't the hatred everyone else threw at me, or the disgust, or even the pity the few people sympathetic to my situation gave me. It was something like understanding-knowing that we all have people in our lives who do desperate things to help those they love. And from that point, on, Harry, I couldn't stop thinking about you."
That last bit was said in a low whisper, seductive and rich and just a bit ragged, and every nerve in Harry's core lit up. "What do you want from me?"
"Just for you to know. Even if you choose to ignore the last thing I said, to ignore me for the rest of our lives, I had to say it, I think. I'm human, Harry. I fuck up and I get things wrong. I get everything wrong, which is why I fully expect you to leave the room and never speak to me again. Only know that I'll always remember you, and nothing can change that. We all leave marks on one another. Some big and some small."
Harry had no idea what to say. He realised his hand was still on Draco's shoulder and instead of yanking it quickly away, he slid it slowly down Draco's arm. He stared with just as much surprise as Draco did. "Do you want to leave a mark on me?"
Draco's eyes flashed and Harry shivered. What in Merlin's name was he doing? With a boy? Was this what Ginny had meant when she told him that she might always love him, but they weren't ever going to be exactly what the other needed? He remembered the look on her face back in July, when she had said that. He had asked her for clarification, bewildered and a little hurt that she seemed so damned certain when he wasn't anything but confused. She had only shaken her head and said she was sure he'd figure it out soon, if he hadn't already. And then she had left him sitting there, with only a kiss on the cheek and a small but friendly smile. He had asked Hermione for her take after dinner that night, but even she had given him a cryptic little look and just walked away.
He traced a finger over the tendon on the back of Draco's hand. "Do you?"
"Do you know what you're asking?" Draco asked slowly, his voice barely audible as they both stared at the spot where their hands touched.
"I think I do." That was a lie, sort of. He knew it might be a very open invitation, and probably a stupid one to ever give a Slytherin, no matter how polite and sincere they might be at any given moment. But other than that?
"You don't," Draco said with a look of vague amusement. "But you will in a moment." He leaned forward very, very gradually, and it was perhaps ten seconds before Harry realised he was leaning in just as much and their faces were just as close as they had been that day at Malfoy Manor, when Malfoy had chosen not to identify him. And Harry knew, he flat-out knew Malfoy had been certain it was him.
Harry ended up being the one to take the actual plunge. He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against the corner of Draco's, not sure at all what to expect. Would this be no big deal, or would he live to regret it?
The result was neither of those things, as it happened. Draco pulled back for a moment, then steadied himself as he wrapped one arm around Harry, his hand coming to rest at the small of Harry's back. Harry let himself focus solely on the feel of Draco's hands on his skin and the tentative kiss they shared. It was not forceful, which is what he would have expected, nor was it rough or particularly firm or weird. It was...Merlin, the only word that came to him was 'nice'. Very nice, actually. If he didn't let his brain get too involved with the fact that he was kissing someone he'd nearly killed, or had spent seven years despising, or who had always been quite cruel to everyone he knew, this could end up as quite an enjoyable moment.
He let himself relax a bit and raised his own hand to cup the back of Draco's head. Now the kiss wound up in intensity, breathing quickened, and touches became needier, bolder. Draco was the one to pull away first, his blond hair much darker in the lamplight. "Do you Gryffindors ever know what you're doing?"
Harry shook his head, willing his heart to stop pounding so loudly. It did not listen in the slightest. "Rarely, I think. But we don't have a hell of a lot of regrets."
"Well, that's good to hear," Draco said with a wicked grin. He pulled Harry back in, no longer hesitant at all, and started undoing Harry's robes. "Shut up, Harry," Draco breathed into his ear when Harry started to protest. The breath was hot and moist, and Harry's entire body broke out in goose bumps. "Nothing to worry about. That's all long in the past."
Harry only gulped and nodded. Right. New beginnings after the war. There had been an awful lot of those. In politics, throughout society, even amongst estranged family members. His hand lingered at the collar of Draco's robes, still a bit rumpled from where he had shoved it aside earlier. He undid the buttons of his own collar when Draco fumbled with them, then put his hand right back where it had been. Slowly, as gently as he could manage, he ran his thumb along the longest scar, the one he could still see, even with Malfoy's robes on. The skin there was silky and soft, so very thin and fragile-feeling, and he fought the urge to dip his head and run his tongue along it. He had no idea where that desire had even come from.
He didn't know how long the two of them stood there, soaking in one another's touch and taste and the sound of their harsh breathing mingled together. He only knew that there was suddenly far too much noise outside their little classroom. He watched Draco pull a watch from somewhere within his robes. "Fuck. We're going to be late for supper. Get yourself sorted, Harry. While I'm certain it would surprise others to know we don't seem to loathe each other any more, this is not exactly how I want to display myself to the staff. You leave first. I'll follow in a moment."
"What about-"
Draco cut him off. "Later. Do you still have that cloak?"
"Yes." The noise outside was growing louder, and Harry struggled to straighten himself out before someone figured out they were in here and burst inside. This would be easier with more light, but if he did that, someone outside would surely notice their presence.
"Then put it to good use and find me in my room after curfew. I'm only down the hall. We can discuss things then. Or we can find other ways of communicating that don't require a lot of words." He tugged on the front of Harry's robes and pulled him down for another hard kiss. "Now go."
Harry nodded, and after a quick check to make certain all his buttons were done up and his collar was straight, he walked quickly outside. He could hear a number of voices right around the corner, but there was no one within sight. He walked as smoothly into the crowd as possible and spotted Ron towering over virtually everyone else. "There you are," Ron said with a grin. "We'd just about given up on you. I'd already made plans to eat your dessert. Where have you been?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched Draco round the corner and enter the room, headed straight for where his friends were waiting. He caught the other boy's eye and gave him a quick nod, which was just as subtly acknowledged. "Just talking with Draco."
"Malfoy?" Ron looked over to where a few of the Slytherins were gathered. "Well, neither of you is limping, so that's probably a good sign. Everything all right with him, then?"
Harry nodded. It was better than all right, but he wasn't about to say that out loud just yet. "Yeah. Things are fine between us." He sat at their table and lifted his glass of water to his lips. He still felt very, very warm.
Ron raised his eyebrows. "So we're not going to have to pull you off each other, then?"
Trying not to choke on his water, Harry shook his head. "You know, I think you might be surprised just how well we might get along now."
Ron snorted. "I think I'd like to see that."
Harry smirked into his goblet. No, he thought. Ron probably didn't.
Beta(s): nicevenn & groolover
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3874
Summary: "We all leave marks on one another-some big and some small."
Author's Notes: An 8th year fic, written as a stocking stuffer for lullabylily .
"Potter."
Harry sighed. He had hoped that now, after the war and after everything that had happened in the aftermath, he and Draco Malfoy could put this ridiculous feud behind them. He felt like he had aged so damned much in the last few months, and though their rivalry had escalated to something beyond petty childhood issues, he had thought that, at the very least, they could manage to be civil to one another.
"Yes?"
Malfoy stood against the door to an empty classroom, with his hands tucked behind him. "I'd like to speak with you. Do you think we could have a moment in private?"
Harry glanced around the empty hallway. McGonagall had released the eighth years to their dormitories with the rather stern demand that they all be in the Great Hall well before the second to seventh years arrived. They did not have much time, but there was enough for a quick conversation. Something in the pit of his stomach twisted, and Harry ignored it. In the past, it would have been suspicion that he was walking into a particularly nasty trap, and while there was a tinge of suspicion to this feeling, Harry knew that was not more than ten percent of what he was feeling.
The rest, however, he had no name for.
"Yes, fine." He stepped through the doorway as Malfoy gestured him inside, then blinked in the dark and lit the three small lamps at the front of the room with his wand. The desks were stacked along the back wall, and few of the shelves held any books or anything else that might help the instructor for Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. That would all be done before the first lesson. For now, the castle had an oddly deserted feeling. At least the majority of physical and structural damage had been repaired. Harry was not certain he could have dealt with seeing that on his first day back.
The door swung shut behind them, and Harry heard the soft click of a lock catching. The feeling of not-quite-suspicion twisted in his stomach again, and Harry was glad he had not yet eaten for the evening. "Malfoy?"
The other boy simply stood not far from the professor's lectern. "You don't need to worry, Potter." He shifted uncomfortably. "I realise this may sound odd, but...may I call you 'Harry'?"
Harry blinked at him, the light from the flames reflecting within the edge of his lenses to ring everything in gold. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good. It doesn't feel right to call you 'Potter' with what I'm about to say."
Warily, Harry nodded. "All right. Well, floor's yours. Whenever you're ready."
Malfoy-Draco, Harry supposed, now they were on a first-name basis-took a deep breath. "You...you've been a bigger part of my life than I suppose you realise, Harry. You see, when I was growing up, I heard stories about you. All the other children who weren't Muggle-born did. You were in the history books, and there were even bedtime stories about you and your parents and the Order. Granted, there weren't many of those in my home, as I'm certain doesn't shock you. But I knew of them. Every child wanted to be your friend. I knew, very early on, that having you in my social circle could only be beneficial."
Harry wondered if this was going to be a very long speech, and if there was going to be a history lesson involved or something. Malfoy-no, Draco-looked decidedly determined, if a bit nervous. "Oh?"
"Yes. I was raised more to know the value of connections than I was to know the value of friendship. In some ways, it served me very well. As was my father's hope. But that doesn't matter to you. Hopefully, the rest of what I have to say will."
"All right," Harry said. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Guess I haven't learnt that bit of manners." He winced when he realised that sounded like a dig at the other boy.
Surprisingly, Draco smiled softly and appeared to relax. "I won't hold it against you. This time. As I was saying. When I was eleven, once I knew who you were, not being smart enough to see it in Madam Malkin's, I tried to extend an offer of friendship. Only, of course, it was more about social connection than actual friendship. Which you did not seem to need explained, really. And I hated you for it. No one had ever turned me down so rudely. Not with who my father was."
Harry bit his lip to keep from interrupting. He did not want to be here, in this half-lit room, while his friends finished up their unpacking and made their way to the Great Hall for supper and the Welcoming Feast and the Sorting Ceremony. Nothing against Mal-Draco, since this was actually the politest he'd ever been, and certainly the most he'd ever said to Harry in conversation, but the situation was very awkward, and Harry didn't have anywhere to put his hands. He settled for shoving them in his pockets, feeling his wand through the material. That reminded him. "I know I said I wouldn't interrupt, but before I forget...Draco...I wanted to let you know I have your wand. I'd like to return it."
Draco smiled again, a little more broadly. "Thank you, Potter. I'll try to wrap this up. I just need to say this, and then the rest is up to you."
Harry nodded. He had not ever guessed Draco could be so mature, so calm about anything. "All right. Please. Go on."
"Thank you, Harry." Draco fiddled with the collar of his robes, and for the first time, Harry saw his Dark Mark clearly. He had known it was there, of course-it had come up when Harry had testified in a number of trials after the war. It was faded now, little more than a patch of slightly darker skin in a vague skull-and-snake shape. If you didn't know what it was, you probably wouldn't recognise it. Just the same as if you didn't know about Harry's scar, you might miss seeing it at all. "Jumping right ahead, for the sake of time: You've given me things you might not know about, as well. You gave me this."
Draco undid his collar with one hand and pulled it aside, exposing chest and shoulder. Harry saw the lines of a scar, thick where it disappeared underneath Draco's robes and thinner up toward his shoulder. He felt himself go pale. "I didn't...I thought Snape..." He suddenly felt quite a bit more ill than nervous or suspicious.
Draco only watched him for a moment before he shook his head. "Harry. Breathe. I'll always have these scars, I fear." When Harry startled at the use of the plural, Draco gave him a very peculiar little smile. "Yes, scars. More than one. The others aren't nearly so bad as this. But my point is this: you've marked me, and I'll never forget you, no matter how hard I try. But not for this. Yes, this is something I'll always see, something anyone who ever gets close to me will see, but that's not how I'll remember you."
"You. I. I'm sorry, what?"
"Eloquent as always," Draco said with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry if I'm being cryptic. This is quite difficult. I suppose what I need to say most is 'thank you'. Thank you for your testimony. I know how much you hated me, but you still testified on my behalf, not to mention that you cleared my mother's name and gave her more credit than you ever had to."
"She did save my life, even if it was just for you, M-Draco. A mother's love for her son. That's something I can understand, you know." Harry spoke softly and looked down at the stone floor. Couldn't Draco have just written him a letter and saved them both this awkwardness?
"Right. Of course you can. What I..." Draco cut himself off with a disgusted sigh. "Okay. Look. I was raised to be polite at the right moments and diplomatic when it suited me, but also with the thought that I was better than most people. And while I really want to do this correctly, and express myself fully, not all of that can be done together."
Harry blinked. "All right. Um. Say what you need to, I guess. You've already got the basics across."
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I showed you the scar. It obviously affects you. I didn't mean to induce guilt, Harry." Harry cocked his head a little when he noticed that this somewhat more straightforward Draco Malfoy still chose to use his given name. "I want you to know I don't hold it against you. I tried to toss an Unforgivable at you, and I know now that you had no idea what that spell you flung at me would do. I probably would have done the same, in your place. So. That's that. I also managed to thank you for your testimony. I owe you my freedom for that." He held up a hand when he saw Harry open his mouth to protest. "Let me finish, or I'll never get up the courage to say the rest."
Despite Harry's resolutely snapping his mouth shut, Draco did not speak for several long moments. "I also owe you my life. You pulled me onto the back of your broom with Fiendfyre roaring around the two of us. You could have very easily left me there, and absolutely no one would have blamed you. You know, while I waited to learn my fate during the trials, I'd catch myself thinking about that moment. The absolute terror, and then the physical feeling of you hoisting me up and the feel of you, solid and real, in my arms as I held on. I remember thinking you were a better person than I could ever be. And I was ashamed. Merlin help me, all I ever did my entire life were things that I thought would benefit me."
Harry waited, but Draco did not say anything else. "Well. You're not doing that now."
Draco finally looked up. "Aren't I?"
"What? This sounds like a sincere apology, Draco. I mean, I never thought I'd see the day, but how could you possibly be working this to your advantage right now?"
With a small shake of his head, Draco sighed. "I am being honest and sincere with you, Harry. I meant everything I said. And yet..."
"And yet what?"
"I'm still trying to get what I want."
"What's that?"
Draco squirmed. "Approval. Forgiveness. It's why I haven't mentioned the rest. But I've already said I'm done after this. After this conversation, we both go our separate ways, and any later move is yours, even if that is absolutely no move at all."
"And what's the rest?"
There was a furious flush on the other boy's cheek, and Harry wanted to reach out an arm and put it on his shoulder. When he acted on impulse and did so, Draco jerked underneath his touch and raised shocked grey eyes up to meet Harry's. Harry thought, for the first time since it had happened, of what it had felt like to have Draco's arms wrapped around him. It had been a desperate embrace, so tight it had hurt, and there'd been nothing soft or kind about it at all. And then he took a good look at Draco and saw what lay beneath the shock and the flush and the hitch in breathing.
"You really want to know?"
Harry swallowed hard. There had always been something here, something between them, hadn't there? Just in other forms. He was terrified of what Draco might say, but also eager to hear it. His brain told him that wasn't right, but the twisting of his stomach and tightening in his chest, almost like the feel of Draco's arms around him up in the smoke-filled air, said it didn't much care what his brain thought on the matter. "Yes."
"I've not told you the rest because you've taken this well so far. But when I said I thought about you in the time leading up to my trial, that wasn't the whole truth. I thought about you after, too. I thought about the way you looked at me, and it wasn't the hatred everyone else threw at me, or the disgust, or even the pity the few people sympathetic to my situation gave me. It was something like understanding-knowing that we all have people in our lives who do desperate things to help those they love. And from that point, on, Harry, I couldn't stop thinking about you."
That last bit was said in a low whisper, seductive and rich and just a bit ragged, and every nerve in Harry's core lit up. "What do you want from me?"
"Just for you to know. Even if you choose to ignore the last thing I said, to ignore me for the rest of our lives, I had to say it, I think. I'm human, Harry. I fuck up and I get things wrong. I get everything wrong, which is why I fully expect you to leave the room and never speak to me again. Only know that I'll always remember you, and nothing can change that. We all leave marks on one another. Some big and some small."
Harry had no idea what to say. He realised his hand was still on Draco's shoulder and instead of yanking it quickly away, he slid it slowly down Draco's arm. He stared with just as much surprise as Draco did. "Do you want to leave a mark on me?"
Draco's eyes flashed and Harry shivered. What in Merlin's name was he doing? With a boy? Was this what Ginny had meant when she told him that she might always love him, but they weren't ever going to be exactly what the other needed? He remembered the look on her face back in July, when she had said that. He had asked her for clarification, bewildered and a little hurt that she seemed so damned certain when he wasn't anything but confused. She had only shaken her head and said she was sure he'd figure it out soon, if he hadn't already. And then she had left him sitting there, with only a kiss on the cheek and a small but friendly smile. He had asked Hermione for her take after dinner that night, but even she had given him a cryptic little look and just walked away.
He traced a finger over the tendon on the back of Draco's hand. "Do you?"
"Do you know what you're asking?" Draco asked slowly, his voice barely audible as they both stared at the spot where their hands touched.
"I think I do." That was a lie, sort of. He knew it might be a very open invitation, and probably a stupid one to ever give a Slytherin, no matter how polite and sincere they might be at any given moment. But other than that?
"You don't," Draco said with a look of vague amusement. "But you will in a moment." He leaned forward very, very gradually, and it was perhaps ten seconds before Harry realised he was leaning in just as much and their faces were just as close as they had been that day at Malfoy Manor, when Malfoy had chosen not to identify him. And Harry knew, he flat-out knew Malfoy had been certain it was him.
Harry ended up being the one to take the actual plunge. He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against the corner of Draco's, not sure at all what to expect. Would this be no big deal, or would he live to regret it?
The result was neither of those things, as it happened. Draco pulled back for a moment, then steadied himself as he wrapped one arm around Harry, his hand coming to rest at the small of Harry's back. Harry let himself focus solely on the feel of Draco's hands on his skin and the tentative kiss they shared. It was not forceful, which is what he would have expected, nor was it rough or particularly firm or weird. It was...Merlin, the only word that came to him was 'nice'. Very nice, actually. If he didn't let his brain get too involved with the fact that he was kissing someone he'd nearly killed, or had spent seven years despising, or who had always been quite cruel to everyone he knew, this could end up as quite an enjoyable moment.
He let himself relax a bit and raised his own hand to cup the back of Draco's head. Now the kiss wound up in intensity, breathing quickened, and touches became needier, bolder. Draco was the one to pull away first, his blond hair much darker in the lamplight. "Do you Gryffindors ever know what you're doing?"
Harry shook his head, willing his heart to stop pounding so loudly. It did not listen in the slightest. "Rarely, I think. But we don't have a hell of a lot of regrets."
"Well, that's good to hear," Draco said with a wicked grin. He pulled Harry back in, no longer hesitant at all, and started undoing Harry's robes. "Shut up, Harry," Draco breathed into his ear when Harry started to protest. The breath was hot and moist, and Harry's entire body broke out in goose bumps. "Nothing to worry about. That's all long in the past."
Harry only gulped and nodded. Right. New beginnings after the war. There had been an awful lot of those. In politics, throughout society, even amongst estranged family members. His hand lingered at the collar of Draco's robes, still a bit rumpled from where he had shoved it aside earlier. He undid the buttons of his own collar when Draco fumbled with them, then put his hand right back where it had been. Slowly, as gently as he could manage, he ran his thumb along the longest scar, the one he could still see, even with Malfoy's robes on. The skin there was silky and soft, so very thin and fragile-feeling, and he fought the urge to dip his head and run his tongue along it. He had no idea where that desire had even come from.
He didn't know how long the two of them stood there, soaking in one another's touch and taste and the sound of their harsh breathing mingled together. He only knew that there was suddenly far too much noise outside their little classroom. He watched Draco pull a watch from somewhere within his robes. "Fuck. We're going to be late for supper. Get yourself sorted, Harry. While I'm certain it would surprise others to know we don't seem to loathe each other any more, this is not exactly how I want to display myself to the staff. You leave first. I'll follow in a moment."
"What about-"
Draco cut him off. "Later. Do you still have that cloak?"
"Yes." The noise outside was growing louder, and Harry struggled to straighten himself out before someone figured out they were in here and burst inside. This would be easier with more light, but if he did that, someone outside would surely notice their presence.
"Then put it to good use and find me in my room after curfew. I'm only down the hall. We can discuss things then. Or we can find other ways of communicating that don't require a lot of words." He tugged on the front of Harry's robes and pulled him down for another hard kiss. "Now go."
Harry nodded, and after a quick check to make certain all his buttons were done up and his collar was straight, he walked quickly outside. He could hear a number of voices right around the corner, but there was no one within sight. He walked as smoothly into the crowd as possible and spotted Ron towering over virtually everyone else. "There you are," Ron said with a grin. "We'd just about given up on you. I'd already made plans to eat your dessert. Where have you been?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched Draco round the corner and enter the room, headed straight for where his friends were waiting. He caught the other boy's eye and gave him a quick nod, which was just as subtly acknowledged. "Just talking with Draco."
"Malfoy?" Ron looked over to where a few of the Slytherins were gathered. "Well, neither of you is limping, so that's probably a good sign. Everything all right with him, then?"
Harry nodded. It was better than all right, but he wasn't about to say that out loud just yet. "Yeah. Things are fine between us." He sat at their table and lifted his glass of water to his lips. He still felt very, very warm.
Ron raised his eyebrows. "So we're not going to have to pull you off each other, then?"
Trying not to choke on his water, Harry shook his head. "You know, I think you might be surprised just how well we might get along now."
Ron snorted. "I think I'd like to see that."
Harry smirked into his goblet. No, he thought. Ron probably didn't.