Title: Scars
Rating: T
Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Harry Potter teaches Draco Malfoy about scars
The wonderful world of Harry Potter is not at all mine and obviously belongs to the brilliant J. K. Rowling. The plot, however, is mine.
Word Count:
1174 words
Notes: Mind sexual content since I can't write smut for my life.

Harry slowly moved closer to Draco on the scarlet covered bed. They were sitting, staring, on Harry's bed in the new eighth year Gryffindor dorms. The scarlet curtains that still smelled new were pulled to create more privacy, and no one would have realized that Draco Malfoy was occupying Harry Potter's bed unless they were observant enough to spot another pair of shiny shoes neatly tucked underneath it. Harry had also cast Muffliatoas an extra precaution.

Harry bit his lip. Draco tried to avoid his gaze. Harry moved closer still, and touched Draco's hand lightly. He tensed, but it didn't move from his thigh.

"Well," Harry said in his serious voice, "Are we going to do anything, or what?"

Draco finally met Harry's gaze, and the latter noticed that Draco's cheeks were slightly flushed. The blonde nodded slowly, and Harry grinned. His hands moved up to tug away Draco's silver and green tie - perfectly tied with no folds - when Draco visibly tensed once more. Harry stopped and withdrew, frowning.

"What is it, Draco? I assumed by nodding you wanted to do something."

"I do," Draco said hesitantly. "It's...it's just..."

Harry smirked a bit when he realized that Draco was even more nervous than Harry ever presumed he would be. He seemed eager enough last night in the dimly lit corridors on the sixth floor. Remembering the feeling of Draco's firm body underneath his shifting palms and his soft lips against his own caused a reaction in his cock. Harry returned to the present. Draco still looked troubled.

"What is it, then?"

He caught Draco's light brows drawing together before he shifted his gaze down toward his...oh. Is that what this was about? Harry gave a light sigh and placed his hand gently on Draco's left forearm. Draco looked up, his expression rather blank. But Harry had been getting better at reading Draco's seemingly blank faces, and he knew now that Draco was a bit confused, and a bit embarrassed as well.

"Draco, please. If there's anyone who knows something about scars, it's me," Harry said sincerely. Draco frowned, opening his mouth to say something. "And yes, it's just a scar. It's just a faded memory. It's done."

Draco still looked unconvinced, so Harry squeezed Draco's forearm briefly before letting go and holding out his hand towards the Slytherin.

"What?" he asked, and Harry just looked at his right hand.

Eyebrows knit, Draco's eyes moved to gaze at Harry's hand. His lips mouthed the words as he read them, and then he looked back up.

"I must not tell lies," said Harry quietly. "Back in fifth year, when Umbridge had me scratch into my own skin for detention." He smiled wryly. "It was bad, but it's over now."

Draco sat silently, watching and listening. Harry moved on.

"You know what this is, of course," he said, using his fingers to thread through his dark bangs, his forehead visible for a moment. "It's also done. Completely. Voldemort is gone. That's why this," Harry's hand has moved back to Draco's forearm, "Is okay."

"It's not the same," Draco said after a short silence. "This is just...Dark. It's not anything special, or good, and it doesn't show me how I saved the wizarding world when I was seventeen."

"No," Harry agreed, "But it does show that you were brave, and strong, and that you cared for your family loads. You made it through, Draco. It's done, and it's going to be alright now."

Draco scowled.

"You don't know that."

Harry chewed at his lip, then began untying his own tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

"What're you-"

Draco stopped when he saw Harry's chest, also scarred. A perfect oval right over his heart.

"I got this last year. I almost died, but I didn't," Harry said simply. "And even though it was terrible then, it's gone now. Sure, I may be reminded of it, but nothing is going to change that it's in the past. I made a stupid mistake, and I owe Hermione my life, but it's done. It can't hurt me anymore."

Draco remained silent.

"And you, on your chest. What I did," Harry's voice wavered for the first time today. "It was incredibly stupid, and I will be eternally sorry for that, really, but it can't physically hurt you anymore. That incident is over, thank Merlin, and you can try to move past it. I can't, but you can try," he added bitterly.

"Well," Draco said quietly. "You should try too, then."

Harry shook his head. "No, I can't; I almost killedyou, Draco, that can't just be forgotten."

"I'm not asking for it to be. Merlin, weren't you listening to anything you were saying just now?" Harry looked up to see Draco frowning at him. "It's done. It's over. It shouldn't hurt you anymore. I forgive you, but I'm not going to forget it anytime soon. I expect you to forgive yourself too, even if you can't forget it. You can't just tell me something like that and not even listen to yourself."

Harry stared into Draco's grey eyes, those mesmerizing eyes of his, and nodded.

"Fine," he said. Draco managed a small smile, and Harry couldn't help but do the same. "But I expect you to accept that this is over and done with too," Harry nodded at the Mark. "You can't just turn my own lessons against me like that, you know."

Draco still looked uncertain, making Harry upset that he couldn't convince Draco about this, but he nodded.

"Done," he mumbled, as he reached over to pull off Harry's shirt.

Harry grinned and once Draco had finished that task, he undid Draco's tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Long, thin lines were across his pale chest, and Harry felt a heavy pit inside him, looking at them.

"Snap out of it, Potter," Draco said, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulled off the rest of his shirt, leaving both men shirtless and wanting.

He leaned forward, taking Harry's bottom lip between his own, sucking, biting, pulling. Harry responded eagerly, his hands searching Draco's bare chest and arms and Merlin, it felt good. Their lips parted, only to have Harry trace kisses down Draco's jawline and neck, sucking occasionally. He was pleased to hear Draco's soft sounds of obvious pleasure, and pushed him down flat on the bed, hands keeping Draco's wrists to the sheets.

Harry leaned closer, his crotch pressing a bit against Draco's - their trousers both seemed tighter than usual - and kissed Draco hungrily, Harry's tongue entering his mouth without a second thought. Harry raised his body and released Draco's wrists with intentions to straddle Draco before he sat up himself and his hands were on Harry's body, slipping slowly towards his trousers. Draco clumsily undid them and shrugged them and his underwear down, fingers tight on Harry's hips.

"Oh Merlin, now, Draco."

The Mark was solid and dark against Draco's skin, but neither boys paid it any mind at all.