Author's Notes: This chapter's been done since Friday – three days ago. I just never got around to typing it. It's a longer chapter than the last ones, and there's a lot of confrontations and conversations in it.
Chapter 10:
As days rolled by, it became an often occurrence for Ron to pop in Harry's place in the mornings and find a blond head perched on Harry's lap or lying on a sofa next to the couch he was sleeping on. He never said that he was checking in on Harry on Hermione's account, but it showed through the relief that dominated his features every time he found the two still bodies that were breathing deeply, fast asleep.
Every time that he found Draco sleeping there on the couch or in a guest room next to Harry's bedroom, he would know that his best friend was alright – he had not spent any time alone. When he had someone to distract him from his darker thoughts, Ron knew there was nothing to worry about.
But some days, he would find the house empty save for Harry, no sign of Draco having slept over, and on those days he would rush to Harry's side in worry, his eyes roaming the limp body on the bed, looking for any damage.
Harry had reassured Hermione that he was not suicidal, and maybe he really wasn't, but Ron sometimes saw the desperate and hungry gleam in his eyes when he looked at the cut that was by now only a faded brown on the back of his hand. He stared at it with a barely restrained expression as if he wanted to cut even deeper, draw even more blood.
Ron saw no trace of his best friend in the dark and hungry man that was restless without more blood and he worried. Nevertheless, he didn't call Harry out on it. He just hoped that Hermione would soon end the silent treatment and start shouting some sense into Harry. He was great at talking about sports and making Harry laugh out loud, but he was rubbish at talking about feelings.
He bit his lip and gazed at the comfortably sprawled bodies before him. Hoping that Draco was good for Harry and would be a prominent feature in his life seemed the best he could do right now. The last thing the brunette needed right now was to lose the only one that he seemed to rely on so much these days.
A shot of jealousy went through Ron as he looked at the intertwined fingers of Draco and Harry that hung close to the ground. They had stayed interlaced throughout the night, even though they had fallen asleep on two separate couches. Harry seemed to trust Draco more than anyone in his life; only after knowing him for a couple of months, while he had known Ron and Hermione for most of his life. He couldn't believe how easily Harry let Draco get close to him, when he kept Ron and Hermione at arm's length.
But then again, the blond could probably give Harry something that Ron would never be able to.
xXx
Draco woke up with a yawn and a stretch. Upon stretching, he came to realize that his right hand was elsewhere occupied. He turned his head and was faced with Harry's soft fingers lazily twisted around his own. He remembered falling asleep while talking about Astoria and his unsuccessful marriage. Sometime in the middle of that, some cooped up emotions had overcome Draco as he thought about Scorpius and all that he'd been through. Harry had held onto his hand to offer support and comfort. He smiled softly, thankful for the small contact.
They had spent most nights talking about their earlier lives and going through their memories; although Harry had yet to talk about any of his past relationships. Still, he believed that the brunette had come a long way from keeping his walls high and Draco behind a locked door.
He saw a shadow in the corner of his eyes and turned his head further. Ron was standing there, his gaze locked on their intertwined hands. Draco easily read the wistfulness in his expression. He frowned, not understanding the envy that rang through Ron. Slowly sitting up, he caught Ron's eyes, startling him slightly. He tiptoed to the doorway, mindful of Harry's light sleep, and glared at the intruding ginger.
"That's the fourth time I've caught you here at dawn looking at Harry and I in a funny way," He whispered.
"Erm, What? I don't look at you guys in a funny way," Ron said defensively and frowned, crossing his arms.
Draco gave him a cold and pointed stare.
"Is there something going on between you two? 'Cause I thought you were married to Hermione, not Harry, and that was definitely jealousy I saw in your face."
"God, Malfoy! There's nothing like that going on!" Ron regarded Draco with a look of disgust. "I'm just here to check up on him. And I just... it's just hard seeing him open up to you and let you in so easily when he keeps Hermione and I –his best friends, mind you– at arm's length. We have to drag everything out of him word by word, and he's known us for years! We've been through a lot together. You two just met, and already he's telling you things about his childhood that he was never comfortable telling us about."
Draco dismissed Ron's bitter tone and held onto the first part of his accusing speech.
"Check up on him? Why? There's nothing wrong with him. Do you mean..." It was Draco's turn to give Ron a disgusted look. "Do you mean you're checking to see if we're shagging yet or not?"
Ron's face turned a horrible shade of red and he started coughing uncontrollably.
"WHAT? Of course not!" Ron half-shouted. "I don't know what kind of a twisted mind you have Malfoy, but can you please not go around talking to me about...shagging...my best friend? That puts images in my head that should not be there!"
Draco shrugged, not at all apologetic. Harry stirred in his sleep at the loud tone of Ron's voice and the two looked at him cautiously for a few moments before Ron lowered his voice and continued.
"I'm checking up on him, not the two of you. I wanted to make sure he's okay."
The blond gave him a puzzled look and something clicked in Ron's head. Draco didn't know about the cutting. Harry hadn't trusted him with that. There were still some things that Ron knew about Harry; things that Draco didn't. The pride and satisfaction burst through him, but vanished as suddenly as it had come when he remembered that he knew about the self-inflicted wounds not because Harry had told him, but because Hermione had accidentally stumbled upon the fact.
Draco was still giving him a questioning look but it wasn't Ron's secret to tell. And besides, he liked keeping the blond in the dark about at least this one secret.
"It's just been really hard on him since Anthony," Ron shrugged, retreating slowly towards the front door of the house.
Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Ron wasn't telling him the whole truth, which was evident. He seemed too worried about something that didn't seem that disastrous to Draco. There had to be more to it than that. Harry would still sometimes drown in his thoughts but it wasn't as often as before. Even if he did get horribly depressed, what would he do that had Ron checking up on him every single morning, worry written plainly on his features?
He was still gazing at the peaceful expression on Harry's face as he slept when Ron closed the door behind him and left.
What were they hiding from him?
xXx
Breakfast passed in silence. Harry had awoken to a thoughtful Draco sending searching glances in his direction every now and again. He pushed the crumbs on his plate around in circles for a few minutes before finally looking up.
"Everything okay?" He asked cautiously.
The blond nodded and swallowed his bitten piece of toast.
"Ron was here this morning," Draco said and kept his eyes on Harry to see the smallest changes in his expression.
"Was he? What did he want?" The brunette asked as he picked up his cup of coffee. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"He's been coming to 'check up on you,' as he so eloquently puts it." Draco said as he leaned back in his chair.
The look of surprise on Harry's face was almost believable. If Draco hadn't been expecting it, he would have easily missed the understanding and sadness that flashed through the green eyes for a second before it was gone altogether. He had a feeling that he had just confirmed Harry's own suspicions and doubted the reason of Ron's early morning visits were limited to Anthony's leave.
"Been coming? How long has this been going on?" Harry tried to keep the worry out of his tone.
Draco heard it anyway.
"Ever since your fight with Hermione, I'd say."
An understanding mixed with sorrow took hold of Harry's expression and at that moment Draco knew beyond a doubt that he had been right. There was something more. Something related to Hermione and Harry's earlier disagreement.
Harry sighed and got up.
"Well, I'll tell him to quit checking up on me." He frowned. "I'll take away his key if I have to."
He'd given Ron and Hermione a spare key to his house ever since the day they'd had to stand outside for five minutes in the freezing cold weather. It was the only way he could get Ron to stop nagging at him for being too lazy and not caring about him and whether or not his fingers started falling off one by one from frostbite.
Draco nodded slowly and stood up too.
"Harry, I..." Harry looked up at him curiously and Draco swallowed. He'd been meaning to ask this for a long time. "What happened between Anthony and you?"
Harry ducked his head and let it hang forward for a while, avoiding Draco's eyes. He'd been trying to avoid the subject and drive Anthony out of his mind. But it seemed wherever he went, there was something right behind the corner to bring back memories of the dark blond.
"I got up one day and he was gone." He shrugged. "Guess he got tired of waiting."
"Waiting? Waiting for what?"
"For me," Harry answered vaguely and turned to dump his dirty dishes in the sink.
The pile of unwashed dishes there reminded him of the overdue cleaning ritual with Hermione and he felt whatever calmness left inside him shatter. Today was going to be the second Monday that he would come home to a quiet house with a sleeping Balthazar instead of the familiar clatter and bangs of Hermione's vigorous cleaning. The last two Fridays had also been the only Fridays in years that they hadn't had dinner together at Ron and Hermione's house. Harry had felt awkward and out of place on both nights, but could see no way out of it. He would not confess to having done wrong and was damned if he got reduced to begging.
However, he doubted he could go on for much longer if the silent treatment continued. He'd never realized how much he needed Hermione's friendship before this. He wistfully ran his hand over his faded scar that had caused this.
The razor was back to calling him every moment of every day. He willed the desire to go away. But knowing without a doubt that his resolve would soon shatter and he'd give in to the delicious pain didn't help his cause. When he closed his eyes, he could feel the caress of the steel against his skin. He yearned for it.
Draco stared wide eyed. Harry had his eyes closed and was biting his lip, brushing the back of his left hand with his fingertips longingly. He stepped closer cautiously, feeling as if he was intruding in a very private moment, and placed a hand on Harry's back.
Harry started and looked up at him from under the long strands of hair half-covering his eyes. It gave him a vulnerable and fragile look, but Draco's attention was focused on his left hand. When Harry's right hand slipped from it, a small straight scar came into view.
"Harry?" Draco choked.
He couldn't take his eyes off the cut. In that moment, he knew. He knew what they had been hiding from him. And he wished, wished with his entire being, that he didn't.
Harry looked desperately at Draco's retreating form and lifted his hand, reaching out to him silently.
A sense of Déjà vu took hold of Draco. He saw the same expression on an older and more female face. The same desperate eyes, begging for understanding and forgiveness. The same outreached hand, meaning to comfort, but only succeeding in driving him further away. It brought him nausea. He had to get out. Leave. Leave now.
The broken expression on Harry's face only made Draco's feet move faster. When the door slammed shut behind the blond, Harry felt the vibration shake him to his core. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and he slid to the kitchen floor without meaning to, his feet too weak to hold his dead weight.
What had just happened?
xXx
He never made it to work that day. The afternoon rolled by and Harry was still on the floor, clutching Balthazar to his chest to soothe the pain and emptiness away. It wasn't working very well, which only made him hug the small dog tighter.
That was how Hermione found him, with a blank expression on his face and dried trails of tears on his cheeks.
"Harry!" She gasped.
He directed his blank look at her as she ran across the kitchen towards him.
"Hermione?" He croaked. He cleared his throat painfully and tried again. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry about our fight! I should have realized that abandoning you like that would be counterproductive. I should have stood by you. I'm so sorry, Harry." She kneeled before him and put her arms around his shaking body. "But what happened? Why are you sitting on the kitchen tiles? They're so cold. You're so cold. You're shaking, Harry."
Harry tried to talk but his voice cracked and new tears rolled down his cheeks.
"Hey! Come here," Hermione tightened her hold on him and rocked them back and forth. "It's going to be alright, Harry."
"No, it's not!" He half sobbed. "Draco knows. He knows 'Mione. You should have seen how he looked at me. He left the house as fast as he could. He left. Without saying a word."
Harry started to sob harder. Hermione internally cursed Draco for causing Harry the all familiar pain of abandonment after being such a prominent feature in the brunette's life. She bit her lip as she remembered that she'd abandoned Harry for two weeks herself.
"He'll be back, Harry," She whispered.
He shook his head and sniffed.
"He won't," Harry said softly.
He wouldn't go through this anymore. He was done with the pain and remorse. He pushed himself off the ground as Hermione watched him worriedly. He grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears off.
"I don't care anymore. You were right. The cutting doesn't help anything!" He looked disgustedly at the faded scar that he had so lovingly gazed upon only hours before. "I just… I really miss Anthony, you know?"
"No, Harry, I don't know," Hermione said quietly, carefully looking away from Harry. She didn't want to break his heart into even tinier pieces, but she had to be honest about this. "You never talk about it. I know he broke your heart when he left. But you missing him… I don't know anything about that."
Harry looked at her with a gaping mouth.
"I do miss him," He said more to himself than her. "Why else would its overbearing pain drive me to… to cut?"
"Honestly, Harry, I think that you were just looking for an excuse to start cutting again. Even if Anthony hadn't left you, you would have found another reason for it. If they were out of your favourite coffee blend, for example." She continued when he started frowning. "Come on, Harry. Even when Anthony was here, you barely paid him any attention. You two didn't share that close a relationship."
Harry started to tell her that they had in fact had a great relationship, thank you very much, but an exasperated Hermione cut him short.
"Why do you think he left, Harry? You wouldn't let him get close to you. Everything he knew about you were either superficial things that everyone else knows as well, or things that Ron and I had told him about. You never opened up to him. You were always thinking about Draco, not Anthony. First it was all about finding him again and then it was about getting away from him. That's why he left. He could feel that you didn't really want him there."
"I… Oh my God, 'Mione." Harry looked at Hermione in wonder. "How long have you been holding that in?"
"A long time," Hermione said as she laughed nervously, partly relieved to finally have said it.
"I-I really screwed up everything, didn't I?" He gave her a sad smile.
"It's not too late, Harry. You can fix it with Draco. What you have with him… it would be worth it." She returned his smile.
Harry looked at his feet for a few moments before answering.
"I'm not sure I want to," He whispered.
The silence that followed was absolute. It rang in his ear and echoed inside of him. He left the kitchen and a speechless Hermione behind.
He thought about everything that had happened in the previous year. He'd wasted a whole year on a man that had run off on him after a single moment of peeking inside Harry's troubled life. Did he really want to fight for someone like that? Someone that wouldn't do the same for him?
He bit his lip and flopped on the bed. He hated evaluating the back and forth relationship he'd had with Draco like this, but couldn't stop the pros and cons list from forming in his head.
He couldn't understand the expression on Draco's face as he fled. When Hermione had found out, she'd been freaked, sure, but she had confronted him and talked about it. The way that Draco had reacted, it seemed too extreme. It had hurt Harry more than he wanted to admit. He hadn't wanted Draco to know, but had liked to believe that if he were to tell the blond, they would get past it.
Apparently their bond wasn't as strong as Harry had imagined it to be.
xXx
Draco didn't glance at the clock in Narcissa's room when eight o'clock rolled by and there was still no sign of Harry. He kept going over the documents in front of him, willing all thoughts of the particular brunette away.
Only, it was easier said than done. No matter how many times he read the statistics on the page and went over the analysis, still the grief-stricken expression on Harry's face haunted him.
"Isn't Harry coming today?" Narcissa asked under her breath as she sat up.
Draco looked up at her with a start, not having realized that she was awake.
He wanted to say no, but a small part of him still hoped that Harry would show up and everything would be okay. He scolded himself mentally. He had enough things to worry about in his life. He didn't need another person's welfare to pile up on the already heavy load that he was carrying.
"No, Mother. I don't think he is."
The chill in his voice stopped Narcissa from questioning him further and she left it at that, swiftly changing the subject to lighter matters.
They talked about Narcissa taking up knitting and Draco teased her about being a 'proper' grandmother until Scorpius showed up, followed by Astoria. After a glare in Draco's direction, a cold acknowledgment, and a kiss on Narcissa's cheek, they left for lunch. The silence was always filled with the chatters of Scorpius or Narcissa as she tried to get him to eat cleaner; and yet Draco was never distracted enough to forget the significant absence of a smiling brunette that was fond of Scorpius and would have had him laughing loudly in seconds instead of the frown that Narcissa's scrutiny had placed on his face.
Draco played with the corns in his plate, lost in thought. Harry had brought a lot to his life. It was hard to think back to the time when he hadn't been a part of his daily schedule. His buzzing presence was addictive and when Draco was with him, he forgot about the hole that Lucius's actions had punched into his life or the sorrow that clenched his heart every time he thought about Narcissa's pain and the fact that she couldn't even live in her own house because of its darkness. He could bear the pain of having lost Scorpius to Astoria when Harry was standing by his side. He could envision a brighter future. Harry brought out a hopeful side of Draco that was now lost without him.
Was that worth all the pain and damage that he had seen in Harry? He knew that the sort of agony that pushed someone to cut would take years to get over. The harm inflicted on Harry must have been greater than he had imagined and he wasn't sure he could invest his life only to find him gone one day, deciding that the pain was too much and no amount of Draco's help would be enough. He was already juggling enough people and felt as if he was stretched too thin. He knew that he was close to his breaking point. The one thing he had thought he'd be able to count on was Harry's support. He'd thought he could rely on his strength to keep him going when everything else was dragging him down.
Anger flared inside him. He felt cheated, betrayed. The somewhat irrational feeling that Harry had lied to him and hid that damaged part of him, deluding Draco into believing that he was the strong one when he wasn't, screamed at Draco.
xXx
"Harry?" Hermione's muffled voice travelled through the closed door of the bathroom. "Everything okay in there?"
She cautiously pushed the door open when no answer came after a few minutes had passed.
"Harry?" She asked again worriedly when she found him standing in front of the sink and staring forwards blankly.
She followed his gaze and saw the two toothbrushes that had stolen his attention. She sighed softly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Harry slowly looked up at her with a pained expression and swallowed.
"He kept an extra one here for the nights he stayed over," Harry explained unnecessarily.
Hermione nodded understandingly and gently pulled him out of the bathroom. He reluctantly followed.
"At least Anthony took all of his things with him when he up and left," Harry said, letting out a humourless and bitter laugh.
"Do you want me to throw it away for you?" Hermione asked quietly as she gently rubbed soothing circles on his back.
"What? No!" Harry looked at her with panicked eyes.
She stared back, confused.
"Okay, Harry. Calm down, I won't," She reassured him.
He sighed and looked down. The toothbrush brought back the memories of waking up in the mornings and finding a dishevelled blond frowning at the wrinkles in his clothes and putting on a shirt of Harry's instead. He remembered how they had brushed their teeth together, fighting over who got to wash up first and rushed to go set the coffee. He remembered getting their laundries mixed up and finding shirts or pants that didn't belong to him, but folding them and putting them away in his drawers anyway for the next time the blond would need new clothes, since he spent most days at Harry's place. He remembered falling asleep to the calming sound of Draco's deep breaths and his warm presence. He remembered wanting to climb onto the sofa besides him and fall asleep tangled together but staying on his side of the room because he wasn't sure if he was ready for what these feelings meant.
A tear fell down the corner of his eye as he thought about never again having the chance to sleep pressed to Draco.
Hermione wiped the tear away and hugged him tightly.
"Don't fight it Harry. It's okay to want him back. It's okay to go after him. It's okay to fight for what's there between you, even if you find out that it wasn't worth it later on. You have to give it a shot or you'll never know for sure." Hermione said gently. It broke her heart to see him in so much pain and she blamed Draco, but couldn't stand between them either. "Not knowing for sure will only bring you more suffering, Harry."
Harry looked up at her, a fire rekindled in his eyes. He did want Draco back. And he would go get him back. It wasn't too late.
She offered him a sad smile and watched him rush out the door.
"Good luck," She murmured after him.
xXx
That night, when Draco parked his car and walked up to his front door, a familiar and wet body separated from the shadows and pressed itself against him. A hot breath ghosted over his face before soft lips pasted themselves to his. The kiss was slow and hesitant. It gave Draco every opportunity to back out of it, and grew more passionate when he didn't break the kiss and returned it instead.
His surprise was evident, but the unexpected kiss melted the rest of his shock and anger at Harry away.
"Harry," He whispered against his lips and pressed the tip of his tongue to them.
They parted and granted him entrance. A warm tingle travelled down his spine, gathering in the pit of his stomach and groin at the rush of kissing Harry.
Hearing his name called in such a sensual way and mingled with so much desire turned Harry on more than he had expected. A sudden need took hold of him and he held onto Draco's tongue, sucking on it gently.
Draco opened his eyes with surprise and then closed them again as pleasure soared through him. He moaned into Harry's mouth. It felt so good.
His mind finally caught up with him and he put a hand on Harry's chest and took a step away from him, breathless.
"Why are you so wet?" He tried to keep his eyes from travelling down to Harry's red lips.
Instead, he was faced with Harry's flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and slightly panting form. Water was dripping from the strands of his hair and his shirt was soaked, sticking to his body. Draco tried hard not to pull Harry back into a kiss and forget about everything else.
"It was raining," Harry explained.
"It was raining two hours ago," Draco said as he frowned in confusion.
"I… yeah," Harry said sheepishly.
"Wait… you… you walked all the way across town to here? Why?" Draco asked, astonished.
"Yeah, well, the toothbrush. And then the shirts, and sofa, and coffee," Harry rushed.
"You're here because of… a toothbrush?" Draco asked, confused. He had no idea what Harry was talking about.
He looked down at the hand that he'd placed on Harry's chest to keep them separated. The silence followed as Harry glanced down too. His fingers tangled in Harry's shirt on their own account and he looked up at Harry with open desire. He couldn't remember why he'd been angry with Harry before. He just knew that he wanted him.
The brunette took a step forwards and closed the distance between them, leaning in to kiss Draco. The kiss had an urgent edge to it this time.
Draco hungrily returned the kiss, his free hand reaching out and twisting into the dark and partially wet strands of hair. He pulled Harry's face even closer and deepened the kiss. He wasn't sure which one of them moaned this time, so lost in pleasure he was. The hand that was on Harry's chest travelled down to the hem of his shirt and pushed it up, running wandering fingers on the smooth skin.
He frowned, breaking off the kiss to catch his breath.
"Why didn't you wear a coat? You're so cold Harry. You're going to get sick in this weather."
"I sort of rushed out of the house on impulse, just focusing on getting here," Harry said, looking sheepish once more. "I didn't think about the cold."
Draco laughed and unlocked the door. He pulled Harry inside and into the living room with him before he finally remembering how they had parted in the morning and the reason for Harry being here at all. He let go of the hand he'd been holding and his smile vanished.
Harry tensed, feeling the change in the atmosphere. He swallowed under Draco's hard stare and realized he had to do more than show up out of the blue and kiss the blond to make the problem go away.
"The cutting bothers you," he whispered almost inaudibly. "I won't do it anymore."
Draco frowned.
"I wasn't aware there had been more than one cut," He replied just as quietly. "I'm not sure I can deal with this Harry. If you had told me about it in the beginning; on second thought, no, even if you had told me, it still would have been too much. I am constantly worried about my father, mother, son and business. I don't want to have to worry about you too, Harry."
"I get it," Harry said dejectedly. "You don't want to have to take care of me. It's fine."
He turned to leave. Coming here had been a mistake. He should have just taken the rejection and left Draco alone.
A hand stretched out and took hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"I didn't mean it that way," Draco said softly. "I do want to take care of you. The kind that your lover does when you have the flu or a high fever. But this is too much Harry. I can't take it."
Harry felt anger well up in him.
"I said I wouldn't do it anymore! What more do you want from me?" He shouted in Draco's face.
Draco took a step back, his own anger returning.
"Give me a little credit here! How am I supposed to believe you? How can I trust you after this? You could be lying through your teeth! You'll go and do it again; the only difference would be that this time you'll try to hide it better. That's not good enough, Harry! I want you to be honest with me!" Draco took a deep breath and continued more calmly, "To be honest with yourself."
"And why are you so convinced that I'm lying? I am being honest!" Harry snapped back.
He hated it when people tried to take control of his life like this. He despised it when they thought they knew him better than he did and ordered him around accordingly.
"Because..." Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes, daring him to challenge what he was about to say next. "Because Mother said that same line. She promised me she wouldn't do it anymore, and then one day I found blood in her bathroom sink when I went to grab some aspirin. She tried to tell me that it wasn't her blood and when that didn't work; she told me she'd gotten a nosebleed and hadn't wanted to make me worry.
"My mother has never gotten a nosebleed in her entire life, as she's always been so proud to announce," Draco said coldly. "She was lying to me. My own mother. That's what cutting reduces you to. That's what any addiction reduces you to. That's why she's in St. Mungo's now. I'm trying to protect her from her own darkness, Harry. From the memories that the house bombards her with; memories that she cannot handle.
"I don't want to have to watch you go on the same path. I'm tired of being lied to. I want to be able to trust you; but how can I? There's no hope for us Harry," Draco whispered sadly.
Harry felt a fire come to life inside of him. Draco had presented him with a challenge. He believed that Harry would destroy himself and his life. He would prove him wrong. He was good at that. He would fight for their relationship. As long as he had something to fight for, he would do it.
Draco looked suspiciously at the new expression forming on Harry's face.
Harry stepped closer to the blond and looked sincerely into grey eyes.
"Draco, I honestly will stop. I stopped for five years once: I know that I can do it. This time, it will be for good." His voice dropped a level and he smiled seductively at Draco. "You can check me over every night if you want to; so you can make sure that I'm not lying or hiding anything. We can start right now."
Harry started pulling his shirt off as a deep blush covered Draco's cheeks at his suggestive words. He put both hands on Harry's and stopped him from undressing.
"It's-it's okay," Draco stammered. His eyes were pasted on the few inches of bare skin on Harry's flat stomach.
"Draco," Harry smirked. "Make up your mind. Either the problem is my honesty, or it's something else that you're not telling me. If it's honesty you want, this is the most practical way of getting it."
Draco swallowed and tried to force his blush away. Before meeting Harry, he didn't remember blushing like a lovesick teenager. Now, it seemed that he was blushing every day. He looked at the brunette accusingly.
"There's no point doing it now. I'm positive that since you told me you wouldn't cut anymore and now, you've kept your word. It's only been a couple of minutes, Harry." He tried his best sarcastic tone, but failed as his voice was huskier than usual with the desire he was feeling. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"But you have to see the scars that I already have so you'll know if there's anything new later on," Harry said and grinned devilishly.
Draco wanted to point out that he'd definitely be able to tell a fresh wound from an old scar, but the words were lost somewhere in the back of his throat as Harry shook his hands free and took off his shirt.
Draco's freed hands dangled uselessly in the air for a moment before they settled on Harry's bare chest, gently trailing the smooth lines with a wonder. His eyes came up to meet Harry's but paused on his lips. He stared fixedly as a tongue darted out to wet dry lips and an overwhelming desire pulled him to those lips. He licked the bottom lip before gently pulling on it with his teeth, a new set of emotions akin to pleasure buzzing inside him at the bliss.
Harry pressed closer to him at the silent demand and twirled his tongue around Draco's. His hands travelled under his shirt and he felt the soft tremor go through the lean body at the contact. He broke off the kiss to clumsily pull off Draco's shirt, but before he could turn to throw it on the back of a chair, their lips sought out each other and the shirt fell forgotten onto the floor.
Draco gasped at the cold air encasing him. Harry's arms were around him in less than a second, trying to rub the goose bumps away. He relaxed into the touch and smiled against Harry's lips.
"What?" Harry asked, pulling his face away a fraction and smiling back.
"I thought you wanted to show me your scars... I don't see how taking off my shirt helps achieve that goal," He said teasingly.
"Uh, I'm insecure about being the only one who's naked and you're helping me adapt?" Harry tried hopefully.
Draco snorted and pulled Harry close once more. He ran his fingers over the pale skin and tried to find his scars. Harry stood still silently and kept his eyes on Draco's, all of his playfulness having had vanished, not wanting to see what Draco would find.
Wandering fingers brushed past his left forearm and Draco kneeled in front of Harry, squinting in order to see better.
"There's a long one here," He whispered. "It's almost completely faded."
Harry let out the breath he'd been holding in, relieved that he hadn't found a note of disgust or horror in Draco's tone, just one of curiosity and sadness.
"And of course, one here," Draco said as his fingers ghosted over the scar under Harry's left thumb.
"And I think...is that a small one there?" He asked quietly as he paused under Harry's left ring finger.
Harry nodded silently; gazing sadly into Draco's questioning eyes.
Soft fingers brushed against his chest and the stomach, before Draco sighed in relief and said, "That's it. Nothing else."
Harry kept his eyes on Draco's and slowly unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down and let it pool around his feet. He stepped out of it and waited for Draco's fingers to continue their search.
Draco took a moment to get used to the sight of a down-to-his-boxers Harry in his living room and then started trailing his fingers over his thigh.
Harry shivered at the alien contact but stilled after he got used to the touch. Draco gasped as he went over a large scare above Harry's knee. He looked up into worried green eyes, then leaned forward and placed a kiss on the long scar, a silent tear rolling down his cheek.
Harry kneeled beside Draco on the ground and kissed the tear away.
"Why did you do this to yourself, Harry?" Draco murmured.
"I was young and stupid and life seemed so hopeless and hard back then," Harry said.
"But... you're doing it again now," Draco accused.
"It was only one small cut!" Harry said defensively. He sighed and continued more rationally, "It's just hard to stop once you've started."
"Then why did you start again? And don't say Anthony," Draco added when he saw Harry opening his mouth to readily throw him the practiced answer. "Your argument with Hermione, and hence the cut, was weeks after Anthony, Harry. Why start again when you had stopped for five years?"
Harry bit his lip and thought back to that night.
"Anthony was the trigger. But also, I wondered if I still had it in me to do it, you know?" Harry looked at him uncertainly. "I wanted to see if I still had the courage to put the blade on my skin and slice it open."
Draco shivered involuntarily and slowly let out his breath.
"It's not about courage, Harry." Draco held onto his hand and tried to reason. "It's the complete opposite. It's giving in to weakness when you pick up that razor. Courage is to go on day to day, living in hardship, facing your fears and problems, instead of hiding from them in the shadows."
"I never looked at it that way," Harry said in wonder. "I just thought about how much I wanted it and how good it felt."
"Don't do it anymore," Draco pleaded.
Harry kissed him softly and whispered, "I won't."
They were both quiet after that emotionally exhausting hour. They somehow made it upstairs and into Draco's bedroom however as Draco refused to go to sleep on the cold sofa when there was a perfectly comfortable and warm bed waiting upstairs.
Harry was too tired to even put his clothes back on as an extra layer of protection against the cold bite in the air and slipped under the covers next to the blond. The bed was indeed warm, which was a wonder, since the room was as cold as the living room had been. Draco kept his shirt off, but didn't bother doing anything about his pants. All he could do before he fell asleep was put an arm around Harry's small form and pull him closer.
Although Harry was just as exhausted, if not more, as Draco, his head was filled with a million different thoughts and he couldn't go to sleep. He rested his head on Draco's chest and listened to the steady heartbeat.
He felt as if a heavy load had lifted from his chest. Draco had seen him, really seen him, and had accepted him. None of his ex-lovers had ever known the truth about his scars. It felt amazing to be accepted for who he truly was.
He snuggled further into the warm hold and thought to himself, Draco Malfoy, My boyfriend.
His lips shaped the word boyfriend. He decided that he liked it. He liked it very much.
Draco pulled him closer in his sleep, twisting his leg around Harry's. He took comfort in the intimacy of the unconscious gesture and was finally able to fall asleep.