The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn...
"Malfoy?" Harry murmured, reaching out unconsciously to the other side of the bed. He sighed and opened his eyes when he found it characteristically empty. He ran a hand over his sleepy face and through his untidy hair, looking over at the light coming from the bathroom. He heaved himself out of bed and went to stand in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame.
Draco Malfoy didn't even turn around, instead continuing to look at his pale reflection in the mirror, his eyes lingering on that arm.
"Hello Harry," He stated emotionlessly.
Harry bit down on his lip. He knew he was the only person to see Malfoy this way – and he wasn't referring to the fact the man was standing half naked in his bathroom at two am. It was because Harry was the only one Malfoy felt comfortable enough around to expose his arms.
It had been two years since Voldemort was defeated, and yet Malfoy still cowered in the dark, ashamed.
He had tried every spell, every potion he could to remove it. He had hacked at the flesh and done nothing more than break the knife.
Harry referred to the Dark Mark as Malfoy's war wound – proof he had come out the other side. When Harry looked at it, it reminded him of everything they had had to overcome just to be here. Yet Harry wasn't even allowed to touch it.
In some ways he feared touching it – in case something of Voldemort still lurked, alive beneath the surface and, by being Harry Potter, that contact would cause Malfoy pain. Over the time they had been together, they had learnt to move so that arm and Harry never touched. It had seemed natural, but now it angered him; angered him that every night he found Malfoy staring into the mirror, watching for the Death Eater behind his own eyes.
"Come here," Harry said, standing up straight again, arms open.
"Just go back to bed Harry"
"It's cold Draco, please"
Malfoy tore his eyes away from his reflection and stepped easily into Harry's arms, allowing himself to be led back to the bed.
With Malfoy lying on his back, Harry draped himself across him – drawing circles on the pale chest with his fingertips.
"It doesn't hurt any more, does it?" It was hardly a question.
"Not physically, no," Malfoy responded, eyes to the dark ceiling. Harry lifted his head and waited for Malfoy to meet his eyes.
"I love you," He said.
Malfoy sighed, "Most of me."
"All of you"
"But not that"
"All. Of. You." Harry emphasised, "Including that"
"Harry, how can you-"
"Because it's part of you. Your skin. To me it's just the same as this bit," He paused to drop a kiss on Malfoy's neck, "or this bit," He kissed the collarbone beneath. "It's just you – it's always been you"
Malfoy was quick enough to pick up the double meaning in Harry's words.
Habitually he raised his clear arm to Harry's cheek, fondly, but Harry gently shook him off.
"Not that one"
Malfoy's grey eyes hardened, but Harry kissed his lips to quell any protest, feeling Malfoy relax beneath him.
"Trust me," He whispered into the open mouth.
As he sat back up, Malfoy allowed that arm to travel with him, hand on Harry's torso, the Dark Mark facing downwards out of sight.
Harry carefully raised one eyebrow and entwined the fingers between his own. This was hardly new – even this arm was accustomed to hand holding.
Harry brought each of Malfoy's digits to his lips, kissing the tips of them in turn and then the pads, moving on down the joints to the knuckles.
Malfoy watched in the half-dark, mesmerised, and then began to pull away.
"Wait," He said.
"Draco..." Harry began to protest, but Malfoy launched upwards and planted a soft kiss on Harry's lips to shut him up.
"I want to see," He explained and, reaching round for his wand, muttered "Lumos."
The gloom dispersed into a likeness of soft candlelight, and Malfoy lay back down, hesitantly bringing his fingers back up to Harry's mouth.
Harry clasped at the hand once again and repeated the kisses; the look on his face as he performed each one was enough to send shivers down Malfoy's spine.
Never taking his eyes off him, Harry turned the arm and planted a wet kiss in the centre of the palm and then trailed his mouth down towards the wrist. Malfoy sat up, barely breathing, but did not remove his arm from Harry's. Slowly Harry leaned between them and softly kissed the centre of the Dark Mark.
Pulling away he searched Malfoy's face for a reaction, but the man was staring transfixed at his arm. Harry looked down, afraid he had hurt him.
"Draco..."
"Shh," Malfoy whispered.
In the centre of the Mark he could see skin, like a backward tattoo in the shape of Harry's lips. As they watched, the shape grew ribbons that danced out across the Mark – like trails of water vanishing all in their path.
Thirty seconds later it was over.
Still silent, Malfoy removed his other hand from where it had been leaving bruises on Harry's shoulder and ran his forefinger across the now clear flesh.
"I don't understand," He muttered.
"Nor did Voldemort"
Malfoy snapped his head up to look at Harry.
"I'm so stupid," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "Love, I mean. Voldemort never understood love – could never defeat love."
Malfoy glanced down again at his arm and then back at Harry, looking happier than he had done in years.
"Kiss me again," He said.