He'd known, of course. He spent enough time watching Draco Malfoy to know the exact day he came to school branded with the dark mark. But seeing it, the awfulness with which it bruised his clear pale skin- it made Harry sick. It made Harry angry. The way Draco looked away, couldn't quite look at it. The way he held his gaze instead on Harry, daring him to flinch, daring him to prove Draco right. It was this look, this belief that no one could ever find good in him- that made Harry say what he did next.
"I know."
Draco froze, his breath heavy.
"Potter, this is the sign of Voldemort and his followers. This is the sign of the man that has been trying to kill you since you were a year old, this is the sign of the man who killed your parents-"
Suddenly Harry broke wide open.
"I KNOW THAT MALFOY. DO YOU THINK I COULD FUCKING FORGET?"
"Then how could you possibly think-"
"BECAUSE I KNOW YOU, DRACO"
Harry shouted, and then looked away quickly, embarrassed.
"I just know you, okay?"
Draco scoffed, "You don't know any-"
Harry ignored him.
"I know you and I know you would never
take the mark if you thought you had another choice. I don't know how I know, or why I still believe in such an insufferable prat but I-"
"God, Potter. You are so pathetic! Not everyone is worth saving, you know, not everyone is redeemable-"
"YOU are worth redeeming. I know you, how many times do I have to say it? I know you, and I know your favorite kind of tea is chamomile even though you won't tell a soul, because it calms you down. I know your mother sends you a letter everyday, and I know you write back every single day, but your father hasn't sent you a single letter since first year, and I know it bothers you, no matter how much you pretend. I know you love Parkinson like a sister, and I know how much you wish that was enough.
I know you help Margery Locust with her potions homework everyday at lunch because she's atrocious at it, but also because she doesn't have friends and you don't want her to be lonely. And I know you lose weight when you get upset,
And I know you've got continuously thinner since you came back to school with that thing on your arm, and I know you cry over the radio when it announces another death caused by Voldemort and his followers and-"
Harry shaking now, his breath ragged.
"And I know you are a good person, Draco, even if you can't see it."
He looked at Malfoy then, struggling to control his heartbeat as the reality of everything he'd said, everything he'd admitted, swam over him. The blond boy was staring at him, unwavering, his jaw open lightly, slightly agape. His neck and face were flushed, and his cheeks were wet. Tears freely flowed from his eyes, and he was looking at Harry like the world had just stopped spinning.
Harry felt caught. There was a vulnerability to Draco now, a fragility, that Harry had never seen before, not even when Draco was bent over a radio in his dormitory in tears, his body rocked with sobs. This, somehow, was more intimate. Draco wasn't even trying to hide it, wasn't concealing a damn thing. He was only standing there, looking at Harry as if he was someone Draco had never met. Harry's chest was all at once filled with the need to go to him, a fire in his stomach, burning insatiably.
Draco finally spoke, in a voice that was a broken, gentle sort of wonder.
"Potter?"
It was a question, and all the sudden, Harry knew the answer, felt it rise in his throat, tighten in the bottom of his stomach. He ran forward, noting the way Draco's eyes widened,
Stopping when their noses were almost touching.
"It's Harry,"
He whispered,
And leaned in.
