A/N: Hello, everyone! I apologize for slacking off when I promised a drabble a day until all fifty were posted, but my computer decided to throw a temper tantrum and now refuses to let me online. The next couple of chapters will be brought to you courtesy of my college computer lab, probably earlier at night than I usually like to post, until the tech people decide to come back to their office on Monday. Until then, enjoy!
25. Harm
He realizes, as his hands skim over her, that she has almost as many scars as he. And he tells her so.
A flush rises in her face, though not from embarrassment. "'Cept most of mine are from stupid accidents."
His hands upon her body move with new purpose now, tracing each scar, and when he does she tells him where they came from. Right hip, a botched Stealth and Tracking training session. Shoulder blades, tripping down the dormitory stairs in her third year. Left arm, burned while making tea for her mum at seven. The backs of both wrists, a particularly dangerous fifth-year Herbology lesson. A few she hasn't the slightest memory of where they came from, in various areas. And both legs, with assorted smaller slits in other places as well, from the Department of Mysteries.
He kisses each one, lets his lips linger on the thin pink lines his own claws had left against her back, and asks why she doesn't just morph them all away. She laughs.
"Dunno, really. Maybe I keep 'em to remind me not to be daft and watch where I'm going."
He laughs, too, and she meets his eyes with a mischievous grin that rivals his own.
"Maybe I should morph some more, then, since you seem to like kissing them so much."