Draco was shivering. Harry looked carefully at the bandages. A little blood had started to seep through, but not enough to worry him. He helped Draco to sit up.

"Take these," Harry said softly. "And drink this. It'll help you feel better." He passed the pills to Draco and helped him to drink the juice.

When he had finished Draco groaned and slid back down in the bed. His eyes fluttered shut and Harry pulled the blankets up onto him.

Harry slept on the floor that night, waking every couple of hours to check on Draco. Early in the morning he unwrapped the bandages. The cuts had all stopped bleeding and looked clean. He replaced the bandages with new ones and hoped that they were not infected. A few times he woke Draco to drink more juice; he remembered reading about the importance of staying hydrated after losing blood.

It was late morning when Harry was woken by a loud groan. He sat up. Draco's eyes were open and he was cradling his left arm with his right hand.

"What happened?" he asked. "My head hurts."

Harry stood up and took his arm, checking it carefully for blood.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said. "Last night I found you bleeding in the bathroom. I think you were trying to cut the Mark off your arm."

Draco groaned. "Oh, yeah." He sighed and then nodded. "I was," he said matter-of-factly. "That stupid muggle made something snap. I don't want it Harry. It burns and hurts, and it scares me. And I don't want to be a part of them. I don't want anyone to think I'm a part of them." He paused. "I don't really remember doing it. How bad is it?"
Harry looked at Draco's face. It was pale and drawn. "Really bad," he said softly. "I had to do something, you were losing so much blood, and I couldn't take you to any hospitals. I did something the muggles call stitches. Basically, I sewed your skin back together with a piece of thread."

Draco grimaced. "That's why it hurts so much."

Harry nodded. "You're going to have scars. Really bad ones."

"I don't really plan on showing anyone my arm anytime soon anyways." Draco shrugged. He winced as the movement jarred his arm.

"Dumbledore is going to have to look at those," Harry said.

Draco shook his head. "I'll be fine."

"No, I'm serious. I literally sewed you together with a needle. I don't know how long it's going to last, or how to keep it from getting infected. You need help."

Draco scowled. His protest was cut off by an enraged bellow from Uncle Vernon.

"Harry! Get down here! And bring that malicious boy with you!"

Still scowling, Draco tried to get his feet. He swayed alarmingly.

"Stay here," Harry said, pushing him back down. "You're seriously not doing well. I'll talk to them." He opened the door and looked back. "Seriously Draco, don't move, you'll hurt yourself."

Harry walked down the stairs, dreading what he would find in the living room. He turned the corner.

Aunt Petunia was sitting on the couch, clutching desperately onto Dudley. Uncle Vernon was stomping in front of them, clearly fuming. He looked up as Harry entered the room.

"Where is he?" his tone was dangerous. "Where's that freak who threatened my son?"
"He's sick," Harry answered cooly. "He can't get out of bed."

Aunt Petunia started. She pulled her face away from Dudley and eyed Harry suspiciously. "It was his blood, wasn't it, in the bathroom?" Harry didn't answer.

"I don't care what's wrong with him," Uncle Vernon bellowed. "He threatened Dudley yesterday! With some ridiculous tattoo from your kind." He spat the last words. "I will not have that in my house! I want him out, now. And I never want to see your worthless face again either!"

Harry snapped. "I hope I never have to see you or this horrid place again!" he shouted. "You're monsters, all of you, and I've always hated you! Yesterday Piers was making fun of Draco. What did you expect him to do, just walk away? Pretend like it never happened? Like you've always made me do?" he spat the words out. "Well, you're in luck. Dumbledore is coming for us tonight. Then we'll be gone. And you won't have to worry about my worthless face anymore!" He turned and stormed out of the room, Uncle Vernon hot on his heels.

"You are no longer welcome in my house, or my family!"

Harry paused at the foot of the stairs. "Good," he muttered, "I never wanted to be stuck here anyways." He dashed up the stairs and shut himself in his bedroom.

Harry looked towards the bed. Draco had propped himself up on his elbows. His face was drained of colour.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered. "I didn't think they would be that bad. I should've never shown the muggle my Mark."

Harry shook his head. "It's been coming for a long time," he said. "I've always hated them. Besides, it won't be that long before Dumbledore comes and we can forget all about them."

Draco nodded and collapsed back into the bed. Harry hurried over and examined his arm carefully. He didn't see any new blood, but he was still worried. He glanced at the clock; it was almost noon. He idly wondered why Uncle Vernon was at home at noon on a Thursday. Draco followed his gaze.

"When will Dumbledore be here?" the blond asked.

"His letter said five o'clock," Harry answered. "We still have a few hours. Why don't you rest for a bit, and then we can get your things packed up?"

Draco nodded; Harry could see his eyelids drooping already. Soon he was fast asleep, breathing deeply. Harry rummaged idly in his trunk, knowing that the Dursleys would not allow him downstairs.

It was nearly two o'clock when the cat flap at the base of Harry's door rattled, stirring Draco out of his sleep. Harry watched as Aunt Petunia's hand appeared briefly, pushing a tray through the door. It had two plates, each with a piece of fish and a peanut butter sandwich, and two large glasses of milk. Harry was surprised; usually when the Dursleys were angry with him they gave him cold soup and other equally unpleasant things. He reached towards the tray.

"Make sure that he eats," Aunt Petunia's voice came from the other side of the door. She spoke in a surprisingly soft tone. "If he's lost blood, these will help."

"Thanks," muttered Harry, "I will." He was surprised to see this compassionate side of his usually harsh aunt. He heard her footsteps move away from the door as he reached over to shake Draco awake.

The two boys ate quickly. Draco was feeling much better and had no trouble sitting up. Once he had finished Harry helped him to the bathroom, where he quickly showered in an attempt to wash streaks of red from his light hair. By the time that he had finished and Harry had carefully rewrapped his arm in bandages, they had just enough time left to throw his belongings into his bag.

With a grunt Harry pulled his school trunk from his room and to the top of the stairs. It joined Draco's bag and Hedwig's cage to form a precarious pyramid. He glanced at a clock. Dumbledore would be here any minute. He turned back to his room. He and Draco were dressed and ready to leave. Draco was doing much better than he had been earlier, but was still wobbly on his feet. Harry was sure that he would need help down the stairs.

Finally, the doorbell rang. Harry dashed down the stairs, Draco hobbling slowly behind. He threw open the door to reveal the wizard, wearing a bright purple robe and standing with a wide smile on his face.

"Ah Harry, it's good to see you," Dumbledore said. Looking past the figure in the doorway, he added, "And you too Draco. I hope that you have both been well."

Before either boy could answer, Uncle Vernon came bursting out of the sitting room.

"You!" the man bellowed. "It's about time you showed up! Dropping this delinquent on us and then vanishing- bah!" A vein ticked angrily in his neck. "Take them away. Neither of them is welcome back here." He gestured angrily at Harry, holding the door, and Draco, swaying slightly on the third last step.

Dumbledore smiled politely. "I am indeed here to take the boys away for the remainder of the summer. However, I must ask that you allow Harry to return once more before he comes of age on his seventeenth birthday. You see, as long as he is able to call this place home, as cruel and awful as it may be, he is protected by the enchantments I set up fifteen years ago. Without the protection of these enchantments he would become vulnerable to Lord Voldemort, who I know you have heard about, and his Death Eaters."

Dudley, who had slunk into the hallway unnoticed, stammered at the mention of Death Eaters. He glanced nervously towards Draco's left arm before turning and running into the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon looked extremely displeased. Dumbledore fixed him with his piercing gaze.

"Perhaps this matter would best be discussed in writing. I will send you a letter explaining the circumstances as soon as I am able."

Uncle Vernon glared at the wizard. "I will not tolerate any more bloody owls in my house!" he barked.

"Quite understandable," Dumbledore nodded. "I will be sure to send my letter through your post system." The headmaster turned back towards Harry and Draco. "Now, are you packed and prepared to leave?"

Harry nodded his head. "Our things are upstairs. I'll just-"

Dumbledore cut him off. "There is no need for you to bring them here," he said. "I will send them to the Weasley's house ahead of us." He flicked his wand. "Now, Harry, Draco, if you will follow me."

Dumbledore led the way down the street. His fast pace was too much for Draco, who fell behind immediately, gasping as he tried to keep up.

"Slow down," Harry said, noticing Draco behind him. Dumbledore stopped and turned towards the boy.

"You do not look well today Draco," the professor mused.

Harry shook his head, earning himself a furious look from Draco. "He's hurt professor," Harry said. "He… got cut, on his arm, last night, and he lost a lot of blood. I had to improvise a way to stop the bleeding."

Dumbledore moved towards Draco with a concerned expression. "Can I see?" he asked gently. Grudgingly, Draco held out his arm. Dumbledore gently unwrapped the bandages.

"These are very serious cuts, Draco," the headmaster observed. "Can I ask what your reasoning was?"
Draco hung his head. "I wasn't really thinking," he admitted. "I wanted to get it off- the Mark. It seemed like the best way."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly. "Unfortunately, Draco," he began, "there is no way for you to be rid of it. Thankfully, Harry seems to have kept his wits about him. I have no doubt that the stitches he gave you last night saved your life. Now, at this point there is very little that can be done for you magically. You will simply have to wait for these wounds to heal. They are currently very clean, and have not become infected. You will have to be very careful to keep them that way. As far as the ill effects from losing blood: I am certain that Molly Weasley has some Blood Replenishing Potion. When we reach the Burrow we can ask her if she would be willing to give some to you to assist in your recovery."

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I have some important business that I will need your help with. If you could both grasp tightly onto my arms, we will be travelling by apparition."

As Harry took hold of Dumbledore's right arm, he noticed that the wizard's wand hand was blackened and shrivelled, resembling something long dead.