Scars
Malfoy ran; his breath coming in short, strained gasps. His sleek figure slipped past the never-ending, shadowy trees. Overhanging branches raked across his snowy pale skin, catching and tearing on his shirt. His foot caught on an indecipherable object and twisted. His cry of pain was muffled as the earth met his face. He gathered what little strength left he could muster to twist his head and face the oncoming sinister figures that held his very fate in their hands.
Harry stretched out on the oversized, black leather chair and yawned noisily. Hagrid's hut had always been like a second home to him, so when he was asked to take care of the place while Hagrid was away, he gladly accepted. The only problem was, Ron and Hermione had also accepted Hagrid's request, yet they still hadn't returned from the library. Harry glanced at the clock, it was almost nine and pitch dark outside, he was getting worried. Just as Harry began to doze off, Fang ceased his troll-like snoring, stirred, and began to growl. Suddenly he jumped on all fours and began to bark frantically.
"Bloody Hell!" Harry jumped. "You scared the shit out of me!" He turned grumpily to the dog. "What's got your tail all twisted? I don't suppose that dimwit ginger and his bookworm lovebird are finally-"
He was interrupted by a loud banging noise coming from outside the hut. Harry jumped to his feet and grabbed a lantern. He opened the heavy wood front door and peered out into the night. His eyes landed upon a small blond head, facedown, heaving in the dirt. Hagrid's cauldron had been knocked down from the campfire and rolled closer to the stone stairs. Who on earth would be out this late? The brunette walked over to the fallen boy and lifted him easily. The boy seemed unnaturally light and as Harry carried him to the hut, he noticed sticky red blood flowing freely from gashes all over the body. He flipped over the body to face him and paused, standing dumbfounded in the entryway. He had never seen Malfoy in less than perfect attire and his usual smirk was replaced by a grimace of pain. Why was he even here? Hogwarts was closed for fall break and all students were supposed to be off campus.
Malfoy groaned and shuddered in pain. "Oh my God," Harry whispered. He had sat in the entryway with Malfoy sprawled across his lap. He could see large gashes across the boy's chest through his gaping, torn shirt. On his back were even larger, more purposeful gashes that stretched from shoulder to shoulder. They seemed to have been made from a whip, yet cut incredibly deep into the skin. Malfoy's body twitched and his eyelids fluttered. He seemed on the brink of consciousness; his body writhing involuntarily. His eyes rolled about desperately, as if seeing a scene that wasn't really there. His pale hand outstretched toward the sky, grasping at the air. Unthinkingly, Potter took his hand, which Malfoy squeezed tightly, a scream escaping his lips as nothing more than a moan. His chest jerked suddenly upward, then he fell against Harry's lap unconscious.
Yola everybody! I really hope you enjoyed my first HPXDM fanfiction! I actually just found this journal in my box of writing stuff today and began adding to it. Now onto the serious business… I suffer from a very horrific disease that has recently swept across the nation, impairing writers and novelists alike. It is commonly known as writer's block, and when paired with my terrible procrastination sickness, it can be deadly. The only known cure is candy, laughter, and reviews! So please, please read/rate/review etc! I have NEVER managed to finish a story I have been working on and am trying desperately to actually do so. So here's the deal; you help me and I will write you faaaaabulous yaoi which I haven't actually written explicitly before. But for you wonderful people, I shall try!