Authors Note

--Just in case anyone wonders, yes, it is personal experience talking.

--I thought I had done well enough on explaining the time-turning, but it seems I didn't quite make it. Maybe a visual? Think of Harry's timing as a single line. Take a pen (or a quill!) and run it across a piece of paper in a straight line. That would be Harry's first and second summers. Now start again, only this time make a bunch of loop-de-loops (that don't touch) before continuing on in a straight line. This is Harry's third and fourth summers. His last summer starts out looking like a straight line but then makes one biiiiiig loop-de-loop back to a bit before the beginning (because summer holidays for Hogwarts don't start until closer to 1 July instead of 1 June) and then continue to look just like summer three and four. Does that help? Or does that just make everything worse? (lol)

Chapter 9 – Wednesday, 16 October 1996

Wednesday morning found Draco reveling in his ability to stand in the shower and wash himself. He felt a hundred times more energetic than the previous day. Why, he might even get through the whole day without napping!

Draco finished his shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist when he was done. Draco grimaced in annoyance when he realized he had left his wand in the other room; the mouth cleaning charm would have to wait until he could retrieve his wand. Grabbing a handy comb, Draco tended his hair until it fell smooth and untangled. His hair reached the middle of his back, now; it was the traditional length for a Gifted wizard. He'd have to learn how to braid it. Maybe Harry knew how and could teach him.

Harry. The other boy had kept him naked for the last four days. Reasonably so, he supposed. Well, today he was feeling better and he wasn't going to stay in bed! He would be up and about like a normal person, by Merlin, and he was going to demand some pants at the very least! Steeling his resolve, he headed out of the bathroom prepared for a battle only to find Harry not three feet away dangling a pair of silk sleep pants at him. Scowling at having been outmaneuvered, Draco swiped the pants from his smirking transition guardian and stepped back into the bathroom to don the sleepwear. Frowning at their slightly too large size, Draco stepped back out into the bedroom.

"How come you gave me a pair of yours?" Draco asked. "What's wrong with mine?"

Harry gave the other boy a blank look. "What do you mean yours? You don't have anything down here."

"Of course I do," Draco denied. "I brought a whole week's worth of clothes in my bag."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What bag?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply only to close it a moment later when he realized he had never told Harry about the bag he had brought with him. He smiled sheepishly. "The bag that was in my trousers pocket that I never told you about?"

"Ah," Harry said in mock understanding, "That bag. I'll just fetch it now, shall I?"

"An excellent idea, Harry. Couldn't have thought of a better one myself." Draco drawled back, amused at his own expense.

Harry snorted his own amusement and turned towards one of the doors. Draco took the opportunity to fetch his wand and cast a mouth cleansing and a hair drying charm. Turning back, he saw Harry emerge from what appeared to be a rather large walk-in closet with Draco's miniaturized bag in his hand.

Harry set the bag down on the chair Draco had first used to remove his shoes and watched as Draco resized the bag and dug through it looking for something. Draco's elegant hand emerged with a black silk sleep shirt, which Harry promptly confiscated.

"Harry!" Draco protested.

"Nope. I like looking at you; you're very handsome. You're not covering up that body any more than it already is," Harry said firmly.

Draco flushed and said nothing. He watched Harry refold the shirt and put it back in the travel bag. Draco flushed even more at the wicked smile Harry then graced him with. Well, at least he knew now that Harry found him attractive.

"Well, fair is fair, I suppose. Since you're wearing your pants today, I'll take off mine."

"No!" Draco exclaimed, alarmed. "You don't need to do that!"

Harry merely laughed, turned his back to Draco, dropped his sleep pants, and crawled to the middle of the bed and got comfortable on his belly. Hearing a strangled sound from Draco, Harry turned his head and chuckled at the other boy's expression. "This would be an excellent opportunity for you to feel out all the muscles on the lower body," Harry suggested lightly. "Why don't you get your book?"

"Harry…"

"I promise not to accost you," Harry said soothingly.

"I…All right," Draco said with a resigned sigh, knowing he wouldn't win this argument. Picking up his book, Draco joined Harry on the bed and sat himself comfortably by Harry's knees. He would start at Harry's feet and work up. Maybe by the time he got to Harry's buttocks, he wouldn't feel so embarrassed.

Draco spent the next several hours immersed in Harry's body. By the time Draco reached Harry's buttocks, embarrassment had indeed been replaced by fascination. Not stopping there, Draco had then traced the branches of the nervous system as they left the spine. Satisfied with that, he had proceeded to feel the major veins and arteries, not noticing when he had encouraged Harry to flip to his back so he had better access to some of them. This new position had invited exploration of the front of Harry's legs as well as his internal organs. Draco had spent nearly an hour with his eyes closed and hands on Harry's abdomen as he felt the organs as they functioned in concert. Beautiful.

Feeling something a bit off in Harry's belly, Draco concentrated on the sensation of offness that he felt. It wasn't wrong so much as it was just…off. Figuring it out rather quickly, Draco slowly pulled himself out of the trance he had fallen into.

"You're hungry," Draco said, blinking out the last of his trance.

"I'd imagine you are, too," Harry replied calmly. "We missed breakfast."

"I am," Draco agreed, looking a bit surprised at the idea, having not noticed such a thing while magically exploring Harry's body.

"It's probably after noon. How about some sandwiches?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, distracted by his own thoughts.

Harry sat up slowly and scooted to the end of the bed to stand. Padding quietly to the food box, Harry pulled out two sandwiches and a large bottle of pre-made tea. Grabbing cups and napkins, he rejoined Draco on the bed, crossing his legs and offering the sandwiches to Draco.

"Here. Pick which one you want and I'll have the other," Harry said nonchalantly, wondering just how long it would take Draco to realize that Harry was still completely nude. He wasn't opening the bottle of tea until then, just in case.

Draco took the sandwich boxes and read the tops. Choosing one, he handed the other back and nearly dropped it before Harry had taken hold.

"Harry!"

"Yes, Draco," Harry drawled out. Opening his sandwich box and activating the temperature charm, Harry watched as Draco flushed and tried to look at him without looking there. It was quite funny.

Grabbing a pillow, Draco offered it to Harry with a pleading look. Harry took the pillow but promptly dashed Draco's hopes of modesty by tossing it back to the head of the bed.

"Really, Draco. You've got one of your own. It looks very similar. Why are you so embarrassed?" Harry asked seriously, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Draco shrugged uncomfortably, looking away.

"Are you this embarrassed with a girl?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco shrugged again then offered, "It's always been in the dark."

Harry raised an eyebrow and took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "So. The problem right now isn't so much me being male as me being in the light?"

Draco shrugged and nodded, then shook his head and shrugged again.

"Well, that was clear," Harry said dryly. Seeing as Draco had made no move towards his own sandwich, Harry opened his napkin and placed it over his lap. "There. That should do for now, yes? I'm more interested at the moment in you eating lunch than in you getting over your embarrassment."

Draco nodded and opened his sandwich and activated the temperature charm after reading the instructions. He couldn't look at Harry.

"Tea?" Harry offered.

"Please."

Lunch passed with no more conversation, both boys absorbed in their own thoughts. When they were finished, Harry picked up the remains and took them back to the special compartment of his food box. Draco kept his eyes averted while Harry was uncovered.

Coming back to the bed, Harry laid a hand on Draco's shoulder from behind. "Draco…"

"Because I am, all right!" Draco said quickly, interrupting Harry's question. "Because…," Draco pause to swallow nervously, "because I want it. And you. I've always wanted you. For a friend at first but then it changed. And now, the magics…the bond…it's wanting you, almost desperately. I can't fight it off very well and it's getting worse. I'm sure it'll drive us together soon. And I've never done anything like that and I don't know what to do," Draco finished softly, admitting his feelings of inadequacy. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them and hid his face.

Harry stroked the fine white hair before him, thinking carefully about what to say. He couldn't mess this up. Parting the hair into thirds, Harry began braiding Draco's hair and talking softly, "Draco…your lack of experience, well, it doesn't really matter that much. Not to me. True, you should be somewhat knowledgeable before we try anything, but I told you we would talk about it. Benoît…," Harry paused in his braiding for a moment before deciding to forge ahead, "Benoît – he was my first lover, that historian I told you about – he didn't care a whit that I'd not even kissed anyone. He told me that the most important things about sex were responsibility, respect, creativity and open-mindedness; that experience, while useful, had a much lesser impact on mutual enjoyment."

Draco made a derogatory sound and kept his face hidden.

Harry smiled and restarted his braiding. "I didn't believe him, either, but it turned out to be true. He taught me to be responsible for hygiene, cleanliness, and protection for myself and whomever I was lying with. It sounds boring, but when you know and do those things it gives you a sense of confidence and safety. He told me to respect what my partners do or do not want to do in bed and respect what I did and did not want to do in bed. That way I wouldn't feel taken advantage of and I wouldn't take advantage of someone else. He told me that you could have all the experience in the world but if you just did the same things over and over and over then sex got really boring. He encouraged me to try whatever I wanted no matter how odd and," Harry stopped to snicker, "he would buy me all these books and magazines and such about sex. Some of them were great and some were odd and some of them were downright awful."

Grinning at Draco's returned snicker, Harry tugged on the now finished braid and said, "Some of our best sex was right after I'd looked through something he'd bought and we'd try it out. There were mishaps, of course; not everything was perfect and wet and wild or whatever and some things just never felt arousing to me no matter that so-and-so swore by it. And I did get better coordinated throughout the summer. But overall none of that seemed to matter that much. We were interested in pleasing each other not just in peer image or reaching the goal, so to speak. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

Draco lifted his head and put his chin on his knees. "Maybe," he sighed. "It hasn't been that wonderful with the girls so far. Quite a let-down, really, considering what the others are constantly saying."

"That's what happens when you're not really interested," Harry said dryly. "Here, hold this a moment," Harry requested, holding out the end of Draco's braid.

Draco complied and a moment later Harry had grabbed his wand and spelled a two inch tall plain white leather band around the end of the braid to hold it together. Another whispered spell that Draco didn't catch and Harry rejoined him on the bed, this time wearing sleep pants. Draco raised an eyebrow in question.

"I figured I should take my own advice," Harry said wryly, "and not harass you with my lack of modesty."

"Thanks," Draco said softly, not relinquishing his curled up position.

"You're welcome." Harry paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, it's true the bond is driving us together. You knew we would probably end up lovers. Still, it's not a foregone conclusion. We could resist the pull, I'm sure. I don't think that would be the best idea, though, and…well…I don't really want to, to be honest." Harry paused again, trying to think of how to calm his nervous bond-mate. "How about this? I'll not tease you anymore about sex and you let me teach you about it, starting from the very beginning," Harry offered.

Draco stared at him, lightly blushing at Harry's confession and suggestion. "What is the beginning?" he asked.

"Just some super snuggling," Harry said with an amused grin.

"What?" Draco laughed in surprise.

Harry situated some pillows and sat up against the headboard, spreading his legs and holding out his arms. "Come here," he beckoned. Draco slowly joined him, taking several minutes to relax in Harry's embrace once there.

"Now," Harry began, "Why don't you tell me some of the things you've been sensing with your Gift? Have you come across anything in your reading or exploration that you want to take further or have questions about?"

The next couple hours saw Harry and Draco tossing around ideas and observations about Draco's Gift as well as more general conversations about school, politics, future plans, and past experiences. During their exchange, Harry found that Draco was rather responsive to touch; he let Harry get more and more bold as time went on and even became more bold himself, occasionally caressing Harry's thighs and hands. Harry made sure to keep his hands above the waist but he was still able to get quite a number of hitched breaths out of his companion.

Nuzzling his nose in behind Draco's right ear, Harry splayed his right hand over Draco's belly and said apologetically, "I really need to get up and use the bathroom."

"Me, too," Draco said.

"Go on, then," Harry said, withdrawing his arms from around the other boy, "I'll go after you."

Coming back from his turn in the bathroom, Harry found Draco looking through the wizarding healing books that had arrived that morning. Draco smiled up at Harry and held out a book for the approval of his transition guardian, "I thought I'd read this one next. Maybe I could do something about those scars of yours."

Harry took the book and looked at the title – Cosmetic Wizardry: A Medi-Guide to Removing Blemishes, Banishing Wrinkles, and Looking Fit by Annabelle Rivers, Certified Cosmetic Medi-witch. "Looks like a good choice," Harry agreed, smiling. "My scar is a curse scar, though, I can't imagine it would respond to cosmetic medi-magic."

"Not your curse scar," Draco denied, shaking his head, "the other ones along your back and legs and arms."

Harry's eyes widened and he paled. He hadn't thought Draco would see those! The glamour he used, instinctively at first but then deliberately, had never failed, not even against the deepest of Madame Pomphrey's scans. Draco had seen through it with apparently no effort. Probably due to his Gift, he realized.

"I'm sorry," Draco stuttered out, unnerved at Harry's reaction. "I just thought that if I could heal them then you wouldn't have to use the glamour and you'd have that power available for something else. I didn't mean to upset you."

Harry flushed in shame and looked down at the book in his hands. He knew it was a useless, even wrong, reaction. None of his scars were his fault, he knew. Even if he hadn't figured that out for himself, Salazar had been adamant that nothing in any of the situations in which his scars had been received had been his fault. Nothing. Harry figured his emotions might figure that out sometime in the next half-century; they seemed quite behind his mental conclusions.

"H-Harry?" Draco asked, getting fearful. He had felt the scars so easily that he hadn't thought they were such a deeply sensitive topic.

Harry shook his head, still looking down at the book his hands clenched so tightly. "It's all right, Draco. You just…caught me by surprise, that's all," he said quietly, just managing to keep his sense of shame from entering his voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it was such a big deal since you're not hiding them too hard," Draco said softly.

Harry looked up at this statement and lifted a disbelieving eyebrow at Draco. "What do you mean that I'm not hiding them too hard?"

Draco shrugged in confusion. "The glamour's not that strong. I felt them right away when I was feeling you with my magic and I can even see them now, now that I know where to look," he said, his tone easily showing his lack of understanding of the magnitude of what he had done.

Harry blinked and said seriously, "Draco, Madame Pomphrey has never been able to see through my glamours in any way, no matter what spell she used. And I'm pretty sure Dumbledore doesn't know about them either."

Draco's eyes widened and he swallowed nervously at the implications of Harry's statement. "That's a really powerful glamour," he said weakly.

Harry nodded. "Salazar says…" Harry stopped and relaxed his grip. "Nevermind."

"No, tell me," Draco said softly.

"Salazar says it's an instinctive parsel-glamour used by parselmouths that really, really don't want anybody to see something. He says that if no one, not even a medi-witch, can see through it that that's what it must be. Only a parselmouth should be able to see through the glamour," Harry said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Draco said again, not really knowing what else to say.

Harry shook his head. "That's all right. If you want to try to heal them…that's all right with me. Just…don't tell anyone about them, please?"

"No, of course not," Draco said.

"And maybe you can develop that to always see through glamours," Harry added.

Draco nodded. "That would be useful."

"Well, go on then," Harry said with a small smile, holding out the book. "Try to keep in mind what you learned about skin and such in the muggle book while you read this, all right?"

Draco nodded and returned Harry's smile with one of his own. He could feel through the bond that while Harry was still somewhat upset, he was happy for Draco's interest and enthusiasm. So Draco took his book over to the settee by the fireplace and curled up for a nice read until supper.


Harry set the small table with his supper choices – a smallish salad each, a plate of blanched, marinated, and chilled asparagus, warm bread, and a decent, though not very expensive, white wine. A single serving wouldn't hurt Draco's settling magics, in fact, it might help a small bit. Harry looked over at the now white-haired boy; Harry was loath to disturb him from where he had planted his nose in that book for the last four hours.

"Draco," Harry called softly, then again a bit more loudly.

Draco startled and looked over at Harry. "Yes?"

"Can you put that book down long enough to come and eat supper?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Supper? Already?" Draco asked, surprised.

"It's a little after six o'clock, Draco," Harry said.

"Oh," Draco replied, looking down at his book as if surprised to find it in his lap. Shaking his head, he set the book down and got up and joined Harry at the table. "Nice," he said, after perusing their supper.

Sitting down, Draco lifted the wine glass and took a small sip, rolling the wine around his tongue. He nodded in approval. "A decent vintage."

"I'm glad you approve," Harry said, sitting down and picking up his fork to stab an asparagus spear.

Draco smiled at him impishly and proceeded with eating his supper. Like all of their shared meals thus far, there was no further conversation. Harry was fine with that, though he did wonder why Draco was fine with it. He would have thought that Draco would be used to idle conversation over meals. Maybe he'd ask later.

Draco helped clear the dishes and, through some unspoken agreement, the two boys made their way to the bed, moving to sit comfortably in the middle.

"I found some things I want to try on your scars, if that's all right?" Draco asked Harry, looking a bit nervous. Making Harry upset was not part of the plan!

Harry smiled encouragingly. "All right. How about starting with something small?" Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later a short, thin scar on his left palm appeared. Holding out his hand to Draco, Harry asked, "Did you remember to think about the muggle stuff while you were reading that book?"

Draco nodded absently, taking Harry's hand and peering at the small scar. "Yes. It was really helpful actually and I want to try to incorporate some of the muggle stuff with several things I read about." Draco closed his eyes and felt the scar with his thumb, the way the skin was different there than on either side, like there was a bridge between two grassy plains. In his mind he imagined the bridge dissolving and pulled the two plains together into one. Eyeing his work in satisfaction, he released the mental image and opened his eyes and looked at Harry's now unblemished palm. Grinning in triumph, he looked up to see Harry watching him.

"I did it!" Draco exclaimed in delight and Harry grinned at him.

"Congratulations."

"Did you feel anything?" Draco asked curiously.

"There was a small twinge," Harry allowed, shrugging, "I don't know if some people would find it painful or not."

"Oh! I didn't think about inhibiting pain. I'm sorry," Draco said apologetically, horrified that he could have forgotten something so basic.

"No harm. That's why we started small, right? Do you want to try another one?" Harry asked, perfectly willing to continue being a test subject.

Draco nodded, eager. "May I try one of the burn scars? They're a different type of scar than a cut."

"Sure," Harry said. Once again Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, releasing from the glamour one of the smaller burn scars on his left forearm.

Once again Draco placed his thumb over the small scar, closed his eyes, and felt. This time he imagined a plain with a large scorch mark, the ground blackened and twisted several inches deep. He was about to start working when he remembered he needed to block pain. Calling up a short, purple, healing flame, Draco encircled the entire scorch mark. Then he pulled the edges of the scorch mark inward, reducing the size of the mark. Draco stopped when he saw the black earth piling in the middle. Thinking a moment, Draco started once again to pull while at the same time dissolving the edges of the blackened earth Draco continued his work until he had completely cinched out the blackened part, leaving only a grassy plain. Releasing the purple fire and then the entire scene, Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry.

"How was that?" Draco asked.

Harry grinned. "I didn't feel a thing! Let's see." They both grinned at the now clear skin. "Another?" Harry asked, feeling a sense of pride in Draco's accomplishment.

Draco nodded eagerly. He was delighted that he was doing so well and he could see the pride in Harry's eyes and feel it in the bond. Pride for him! The only one that had shown him such an emotion was Severus. "May I try a deeper one?"

Harry nodded and thought for a moment before offering his right hand. Draco took it and waited for Harry to release the glamour on the outside edge of his hand where Draco knew the cut had gone all the way to the bone. He rather thought that it must not have been stitched together because it was a wide scar instead of a thin line.

Draco gingerly held the hand offered him, debating whether he should say anything. Deciding to go ahead, hoping Harry wouldn't get angry, Draco asked, "Harry?" At the other boys inquiring sound, Draco continued, "This one…was there a problem? It doesn't seem like it was stitched together at all."

Harry stiffened and Draco braced himself for an angry tirade. To his surprise, Harry spoke softly, "The biggest problem was the Dursley's. They never provided any medical assistance. I was even forbidden to use the bandages they kept in the bathroom; after all, Dudley might scrape a knee. What did it matter if I was bleeding to death? They certainly weren't going to waste their precious time or money on taking a freak to the doctor to get patched up."

"Merlin," Draco said, sick with disgust. He wondered if he could get the muggles' address out of Harry and discreetly pass it to his father. If any muggles deserved the Dark Lord's wrath, it was these scum. "Is that why…," Draco trailed off, thinking maybe he should just keep his mouth shut about the other scars.

"It's why my scars are the way they are. None of the deep wounds were ever stitched so all those scars are wider than they would have been. Even the surface ones," Harry paused trying to figure how to word his statement then continued in the same soft voice, "Some of my injuries were just surface wounds, or mostly so, and would have healed with no problems except that I couldn't reach them to clean them, or I couldn't keep them clean because of the chores I was required to do, so they became infected and made scars when there otherwise wouldn't have been any."

Draco was gripping Harry's hand hard and though he was aware of it he couldn't seem to lessen his hold. Maybe he could concoct one of those untraceable poisons…it would take some work but he was sure he could brew at least one of them right. Then…what? Pour it over chocolates and send them for Christmas? "Good plan, Draco. Brilliant," he thought sarcastically.

"Why didn't your magic heal them?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

Harry was quiet for a long time then answered in that same soft voice that Draco was positive was freaking him out more than the actual tale of abuse Harry was relating. "It was tired, I think. At least, that's my theory. The Dursley's couldn't really abuse me much physically because, although I didn't realize it at the time, my magic would step in and stop them somehow; they would trip or something would fall on them or whatever they were using to hit me with would break. My unnaturalness would keep them away from me for a while but then they'd come at me again. They could never get in more than a hit or two before something happened and I think they realized that, so they made sure that those hits really counted. But since my magic had just stopped whatever attack, there wasn't enough left over to do more than simply make sure I didn't die. So everything healed, well, naturally, is the only word I can think of."

Draco forced himself to release his death-grip on Harry's hand and caressed the half-inch wide scar. "This is one of the worst ones, isn't it?" he asked softly, reigning in his fury.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I really thought I was going to die. They stopped attacking me and tossed me in my cupboard, but the bleeding didn't stop and I eventually passed out. I didn't wake up until the next morning. I was really thirsty." Harry fidgeted slightly. "I was nine."

Draco pursed his lips in anger and covered the scar in question with his fingers. "I'm going to get rid of it. I'm going to get rid of them all," he avowed fiercely. "By the time I am done with you you'll never be able to tell that they ever touched you."

Harry started at the fierceness and determination he heard and felt from Draco. He didn't even need one hand to count the people he had told bits of his childhood to that had responded similarly. Hermione and the younger Weasleys expressed appropriate indignation over what they knew of Harry's home life but they were all naïve to some extent. They didn't yet truly understand the cruelty some people stooped to, even against children, and never extrapolated what they knew to connect the dots about what else Harry may have suffered. But Draco knew, and seemed quite ready and willing to rip apart the Dursley's piece by abusive piece. Harry could only stare at Draco in amazement and awe, unable to respond.

Draco took this silence as acquiescence and dropped easily into his trance state. He could see the scar; it was similar to the first one he had healed but it was much wider and much deeper. He didn't think pulling would work so well because of the distance, but maybe he could build? But first, the "bridge" needed to go so that he could easily see all the layers that needed work. Draco put up the purple flame around the edges and started to dissolve the scar. Several moments later, as he was dissolving a deeper layer of the "bridge", Draco noticed that the skin no longer next to a scar appeared to be bleeding. In a panic, he imagined stone walls next to the skin and the bleeding stopped, but now what? Deciding upon a plan, Draco made the purple flame creeping so it would expand over the healthy skin as he dissolved the scar. Draco slowly dissolved the stone retaining walls, pleased when his idea seemed to work. Dissolving the rest of the scar, Draco looked into the "canyon," seeing the multiple layers of skin through the purple flames, like how the muggle books had described, as different strata of earth. The floor of the canyon was the white of bone.

Noticing a small nick in the bone, Draco imagined the surrounding bone growing and filling in the gap. Finishing that small task, he looked towards the lowest stratum and encouraged it to grow. It took some time but eventually the stratum was completely filled in and seamless and he looked towards the next. Draco noticed it was increasingly difficult to grow the layers as he progressed; it was as if the necessary building blocks weren't close to hand and the magic had to seek out sufficient material from farther and farther away. Maybe he shouldn't have dissolved the scar; maybe he could have used it as a material source instead. He would have to try that next time.

Eventually completing his task, Draco pulled himself out of his Healer's trance and moved his fingers away to look at Harry's hand. He almost panicked at the sight of blood but quickly remembered what had happened is his visualization. Leaning back and grabbing his wand from the nightstand, he cast a quick cleaning charm and looked again at Harry's hand. As expected, it was now clear of scars. Draco smiled up at Harry and Harry smiled back.

"That's amazing, Draco," he said softly. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Draco asked, confused. "Fine. Shouldn't I be asking you?"

"I didn't feel a thing. You, however, have been at it for about half an hour now. How are your magics? Do you feel drained? Tired?" Harry asked concerned. He looked Draco over for any signs of distress.

Startled, Draco took a moment to evaluate himself. Shaking his head, Draco said, "A little, maybe. I'd like to keep going, if you don't mind. I thought of something else I want to try."

"All right. How about you work on my right hand until you tire?" Harry said. "I want you to stop after each scar, though, understand? I don't want you suddenly feeling drained because we weren't paying attention." Harry said firmly.

Draco grimaced at being restricted but nodded his acquiescence. He'd learned that tone meant he would be obeying Harry unless he could come up with an excellent counter-argument. And Harry never accepted "I can take care of myself." His response was always "I'm your guardian this week and it's my job to take care of you, not yours." Very annoying, but Harry was correct and Draco knew it. An hour and a half later Harry called a stop, despite Draco's protests.

"Why don't I make it up to you?" Harry offered to his sulking companion.

His interest piqued, Draco asked, "How?"

Harry smiled. "Let's make out. I'm rather good at it," he said.

Draco flushed and stared at Harry silently, feeling desire flaring between them.

"We'll even keep our pants on. Nothing below the waist," Harry said, running a finger lightly down Draco's right arm.

"All right," Draco agreed softly, shivering a bit at the caress.

"Good," Harry murmured as he pulled Draco to him then laid the two of them down, Draco mostly on top so as not to frighten him by getting pinned.

"The lights," Draco stuttered out.

"Oh, I want them on. I love looking at you," Harry replied softly, nuzzling his nose against Draco's cheek.

Some time later, as he lay against Harry and drifting off to sleep, Draco had to admit that leaving the lights on might have been a good idea. Once he'd become bold enough he had rather enjoyed seeing the effects of his explorations on Harry's reactions. Plus, it had been arousing to watch Harry practically worship his torso with lips and tongue and hands. He'd had no idea that his belly was so sensitive.