Chapter 7- Dark Marks and Dittany
Harry had been sitting vigil over the Room of Requirement for quite a length of time now. Three hours, to be precise. His ass was properly asleep and he was certain his back would reprimand him later for it, too.
The invisibility cloak rendered him non-existent to those in passing, which so far had included a rosy-cheeked Filch singing sweet Christmas tidings to his cat, a mischievous Peeves, and oddly enough, a deeply engaged Slughorn and Sprout who had walked past at a gentle pace, hand in hand.
It was amusing to watch the passers-by at first, but it had been some time since there had been any movement in the seventh-floor corridor. Harry must have been going cookey from the monotony because for a period of time, he could have sworn he heard music leaking from the wall before him. The camber of it was very sad and very beautiful, so much so Harry nearly didn't believe his mind capable of conjuring such a melody on its own.
However, that delusion had ceased and the sun had set several hours ago.
Harry now found himself viscously fighting to stay awake, head-nodding towards his chest every few minutes. He wasn't sure how much more waiting he could take. His camp-out had thus far been stoic but the allure of his cozy bed was growing difficult to ignore. The stone floor beneath him was unyielding and cold and crumbled his resolve all the faster.
Harry was just preparing to wave a white flag when a great mahogany door suddenly materialized on the wall, jolting him violently to attention as it was thrust open with a bang. Malfoy came pelting through it like a bat out of hell.
There was no time for Harry to move.
He still had the invisibility cloak on so Malfoy couldn't see him sitting there directly in the line of fire.
With nothing else to do, Harry braced himself for impact just as he and the Slytherin collided. It was not a graceful affair. Malfoy yelped in surprise while Harry grunted as he was kicked squarely in the shin before Malfoy came crashing down on top of him, effectively pinning him to the floor in an unceremonious pile of flailing limbs. The invisibility cloak was inevitably sent askew despite Harry's best efforts.
Malfoy looked around wildly for his assailant before finding the part of Harry's face peeping out from under the cloak.
"Potter?!" Without his usual grace, Malfoy shoved off Harry and stumbled to his feet, wand whipping out in a frantic sweep. He angled it threateningly, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Harry managed to produce his own wand and point it in defense but he was in a terrible position to fight back and his eyes were still streaming from the blow to his shin.
"Trying to find out what you're up to in there," He said gruffly.
Malfoy looked at him with wide eyes, breath coming too fast, but finally, he let out an exasperated huff and dropped his wand away from Harry.
"Merlin, you really are stalking me," Malfoy stumbled backward until he met the wall where the door to the Room of Requirement had vanished. He slid down to the floor and tilted his head to rest against the stone, eyes closed and shoulders heaving.
"I'm not stalking you!" Harry said indignantly, ripping the invisibility cloak off himself fully and springing to his feet.
Malfoy cracked an eye open, looking unimpressed by his tenacity. "Don't bother pretending. I've seen you creeping along in my wake all year long. It's bloody annoying. And don't act like it's a coincidence you stayed at Hogwarts just like me. I know you could have taken a jaunt to the Weasley's rabbit den,"
"Fine then. I am stalking you! I know you're up to something in there and I'm going to find out what it is before you hurt anyone else. I know you're the one who cursed Katie Bell!" Harry accused wildly.
It was a crisp-clear winter night and the crescent moon shined brightly through the windows. Malfoy's skin looked like white marble in the beams. "I didn't do it, Potter. Give it a rest. I'm not in the mood tonight,"
Harry stomped over to the Slytherin, determined, "I don't care what you're in the mood for and I'm not going to leave you alone. It's my duty to stop you from hurting anyone else,"
Malfoy bowed his head and sighed, breaths finally leveling. "For the last time, I'm not going to hurt anyone,"
"Then what the hell are you doing in there? And what the hell's wrong with you? Why do you look like you've just witnessed a murder?" Harry was towering above Malfoy in what had to be quite a threatening stance, however, Malfoy was unbothered. He simply looked up at Harry with bland apathy, as if fraught with much larger worries than the enraged Gryffindor fuming before him.
The realization deflated Harry slightly.
"It's none of your business, Potter," Malfoy said simply. "So now what? Was your grand plan to wait here all night for me to emerge, and then interrogate me? It's not working out very well for you, is it?"
Harry was glad for the dimness. His cheeks had likely turned a dashing Gryffindor-red. "Er -I dunno. I guess I didn't expect to actually catch you,"
"Brilliant planning. And we're supposed to believe you're the one who's going to defeat You-Know-Who? I worry for the fate of wizardkind,"
Harry glared down at Malfoy, "At least I give a damn. And to be frank, I don't really care what the prophecy, or you, or anyone else says about me. It's like I told you in the hospital wing. I'm going to defeat Voldemort for reasons of my own, not because of some psychic reading. And if I have to start by stopping you, then I will!"
"So is it really true then?" Malfoy scoffed, voice thick with scorn as if to hide his genuine curiosity. "Are you really "The Chosen One"?"
"Yeah," Harry said truthfully. "I am,"
Malfoy's eyes were so pale they glowed in the silver light, piercing Harry like an archer's arrow. He wondered what was going through Malfoy's head to produce such an intense gaze, and might have stayed frozen by the icy stare all night if not for the sudden sound of footsteps echoing into earshot.
"Shit! Someone's coming," Harry rushed to gather up his invisibility cloak.
The hall was gradually brightening as the walker approached. Orange beams ebbed and flowed with a lantern's sway.
There was no time to hide. Acting under panic, Harry dove down to Malfoy and draped them both with the silky veil. He could hear the Slytherin's surprised inhale as the concept of personal space was completely tossed to the wayside.
Harry immediately began berating himself as he crouched awkwardly over Malfoy. Why the hell had his first reaction been to dive down to aid his enemy? It should have been every man for himself.
His and Malfoy's legs were practically entwined and their faces were mere inches apart. Harry resolutely kept his gaze trained on the floor, refusing to make eye contact with the Slytherin. The soft puff of Malfoy's breath against his collar bone sent every hair on his body bolt upright. He tried to ignore how nice Malfoy smelled. Like freshly pressed cotton, and broom polish, and expensive cologne of rainwater and rosewood.
The walker was just behind them now, the lantern illuminating the sheer material of the invisibility cloak fully. Harry couldn't keep from peering up at Malfoy as he was enveloped in the light. The Slytherin was watching the passerby intently, expression taught, studious almost.
Fuck. Harry gulped, the same odd realization surfacing just like it had the first day of their shared detention. Malfoy was bloody beautiful. Even more so up this close. He belonged on the cover of a magazine with that skin of flawless ivory and orchid petal lips. The perfect slope of his nose was criminal and those damn eyes. Harry's heart fluttered uncomfortably and the strangest feeling of warmth flowed through his entire body.
What in the hell was wrong with him!?
With immense self-control, Harry forced himself to follow Malfoy's gaze just in time to see the menacing shape of Severus Snape swoop by. The ex-potion master's pace didn't falter and he wore a troubled expression. He clearly had no inkling that two students were out past curfew and crouching just feet from him. The lantern light faded as Snape continued on and finally disappeared around a corner, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone once more.
They spent several tense breaths in wait until the boot-clad footsteps were no longer audible.
"That's a nice cloak you've got, but the coast is clear. You can get off me now, Potter" Malfoy said stonily.
"-Er right," Harry disrobed the cloak and began shuffling back, but as he did, his foot caught on Malfoy's. He would have thought nothing of the accidental jostle had Malfoy not yowled like a cat who's tail had been tread on, so loudly, Harry feared Snape might come rushing back to investigate the commotion.
"Shh!-what the hell's the matter?" Harry reached to the floor for balance and froze as his palm splashed into something warm and wet.
He fell back on his rump clumsily and retracted his hand, surprised to find blood on his fingers. It looked black as ink in the darkness.
Malfoy had gone a pasty grey color and clutched his leg painfully.
"You're hurt?!" Harry hissed, stuffing the invisibility cloak away and rising to his knees for a better look, "Why didn't you say anything? Christ, Malfoy, there's so much blood!"
Malfoy just cursed and pushed Harry away before heaving himself from the floor, relying heavily on the wall for assistance. There was a startlingly large puddle of blood where he'd been sitting. Harry jumped to his feet alongside him and watched as Malfoy gingerly tested his right leg's ability to hold weight.
"What the fuck," Harry said as the Slytherin vanished the red with a flick of his wand as if it were a crime scene.
"Quiet down, you bumbling idiot. You don't have to lose your head over a scratch,"
"A scratch?! You look like you've been stabbed! And where do you think you're going?" Malfoy had begun limping off, leaving a very conspicuous pattern behind him, every other footstep marked by blood.
"To the hospital wing, obviously," Malfoy spat.
Harry took a few hurried steps to catch up. "Right. I'll run ahead and get Madame Pomfrey-"
"No!" Malfoy whisper-shouted, grabbing Harry's sleeve to keep him still.
"What?" Harry hissed in frustration.
"I don't need that matronly healer getting involved. She'll ask too many questions,"
"As she should. Now let me go,"
"Potter!" Malfoy gripped him insistently. "You owe me,"
"Excuse me?"
"I saved your life, remember? You owe me!" Malfoy repeated stubbornly.
Harry gaped at the Slytherin who had become sweaty and winded by the few short meters he'd managed to span, "Are you joking?"
Malfoy released Harry's sleeve and winced, bracing against the wall. "Just- just help me to the hospital wing, alright? That old bat keeps her potions in a stock cabinet in the ward and I'm sure there's Essence of Dittany in her supply. I don't need Pomfrey's fussing to take care of this,"
Harry stared at the blonde in disbelief but Malfoy was bloody serious.
"My God, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this,"
After an extremely cumbersome trip through the castle, Harry found himself all but carrying Malfoy through the hospital doors and helping him onto a bed nearest the large glass hutch of medicinal potions. Malfoy was a wreck. His right pant leg was completely saturated and his ghostly complexion was death-day worthy. Harry was honestly surprised the blonde hadn't fainted en route.
Harry grimaced down at his own robes, coming to the disturbing realization that this was his third time wearing Malfoy's blood that year.
"Alohamora," Harry unlocked the cabinet and began sifting through the numerous potions by wand light.
"Oh for Merlin's sake," Malfoy panted behind him, "Accio Dittany,"
A dainty bulb-topped vial of amber-colored liquid came shooting out of the cabinet, practically taking Harry's left ear with it.
"A little warning next time?" Harry said irritably, closing the cabinet.
The Slytherin ignored him. Unabashed, he undid his belt and gingerly slid his trousers to the floor. Harry nearly choked as he stared at Malfoy's half-naked form. The Slytherin wore a pair of silk grey boxer briefs that hugged him perfectly. The right side of the fabric was stained black with blood, reminding Harry that now was not the time to marvel at the sinewy muscles of Malfoy's upper thighs.
Harry cleared his throat. "D'you, er- need any help?"
Malfoy's hands were shaking as he fumbled the cap of the vial which doubled as a glass pipetting wand.
"Hold this," Malfoy said prudently. Harry bustled forward and took the opened Dittany vial as Malfoy positioned himself on the side of the bed. He carefully pulled the right side of his boxer waistband down, hissing as the fabric peeled away.
"Good lord," Harry's stomach twisted as he caught sight of Malfoy's hip. There was a crater of flesh missing from Malfoy's upper leg, and though the wound didn't look terribly deep, it was large, only half exposed without Malfoy completely stripping his boxers. It looked like a muggle surgeon had scooped out the skin with a scalpel. It was as if he'd been splinched in an apparition accident.
Malfoy squeezed a droplet of Dittany onto the wound, a cloud of green-grey smoke billowing upon contact.
"Fuck," The little pipet clattered to the ground as Malfoy practically convulsed with pain. Harry rushed forward as Malfoy went from taut-muscled to boneless, suddenly slackening in a dead faint and nearly sliding onto the floor.
"Malfoy!" Harry awkwardly heaved the limp Slytherin fully onto the bed. "Malfoy! Wake up! Wake up or I'm fetching Madame Pomfrey! I'm serious!" Harry whispered loudly.
Malfoy moaned and his eyes flickered open. His face was completely colorless and shining with sweat. "Don't even think about it, Potter," Malfoy breathed. "Just look. It's already half-way healed,"
To Harry's amazement, Malfoy was right. The bleeding had stopped on the top portion of the wound and a thin layer of skin had formed, making it look days-old.
"Wow. That stuff's amazing," Harry bent over and gathered the applicator from the ground.
Malfoy looked at it with white eyes and swallowed dryly.
"Do you... do you want me to do the rest of it?"
Malfoy nodded after a moment's pause.
Hesitantly, Harry moved forward as Malfoy worked his waistband further down, exposing the rest of the wound but also quite a bit of skin. He kept his front from showing but there was no hiding the back, considering the wound extended partially onto the ample swell of flesh.
Never in a million years would Harry have predicted such a situation. The site of Malfoy's bare ass in the moonlight was almost paralyzing. Damn-it all, Harry cursed internally.
Wound aside, it was a nice ass.
"What are you waiting for?" Malfoy growled. "Stop staring and get on with it already,"
"Right," Harry blushed deeply and peppered three drops onto the open wound which sizzled angrily and coughed up more smoke. Malfoy moaned into the blankets and bit the back of his knuckles, but commendably managed not to faint. By the time the smoke cleared, the bleeding was completely staunched and the wound closed. It looked like it would leave a nasty scar, though.
It took Malfoy a while to compose himself and even then, he still trembled from the ordeal. He slid his boxers back into place and righted himself slowly, seeming to battle a wave of vertigo on the way.
"You look like shit, Malfoy. Are you sure you'll be able to walk out of here tonight?" Harry said, thankful the blonde had covered himself.
Malfoy spelled the stains from his pants and slid them back on shakily, keeping one hand on the bed at all times. "A blood replenishing potion certainly wouldn't hurt,"
"I suppose there's some in here?" Harry opened the medicine cabinet again, " -Er, Accio, blood replenishing potion," A heavy crystal decanter zoomed into his hand, though there was hardly any liquid inside, barely enough to wet the bottom.
"Looks like Madame Pomfrey hasn't got much on hand," Harry said, offering the container to Malfoy.
The Slytherin shrugged and drained the entirety in one go before lowering himself into the bed, looking quite ill as he settled back into the pillows. "Its better than nothing. In any case, it should be enough to have me on my way in just a few minutes,"
"If you say so," Harry frowned and gestured to Malfoy's leg, "So, I take it you're not going to tell me how you managed that?"
"No, so don't bother asking," The Slytherin said definitively.
Harry sighed. "You could act a little more grateful, you know. You're lucky I was outside of the Room of Requirement. Snape would've definitely caught you if I wasn't there, and if he hadn't, I doubt you would've made it up here on your own. You might've just bled to death,"
"Well call me Irish and kiss me,"
Harry rolled his eyes. "You can't even have a serious conversation, can you?"
"Oh I could, but I don't want to,"
Harry groaned. "Fine. If you won't talk to me or tell me what you're up to, will you at least acknowledge that whatever you're doing is dangerous? I mean, look at what happened to you. For a Slytherin, you seem to be acting exceedingly reckless,"
Malfoy rubbed the space between his eyes, looking annoyed. "Is this some kind of lecture? That's rich coming from you. Mr. Harry Rush-Headlong-Into-Danger Potter. Mr. Basilisk-Slayer, Mr. Tri-Wizard-Tournament. Mr. Department-of-fucking-Mysteries,"
"I wasn't saying I'm a great example but that's not the point! Being reckless is a stupid thing to do. It gets people killed if you aren't careful," Harry swallowed hard, thinking of Sirius. "What I'm trying to tell you is that you can still decide to do the right thing. You can choose to stop this -whatever it is,"
Malfoy scowled. "That's what you think, Potter, but it's not that simple,"
"I think it could be. I'm trying to reason with you here,"
"Is that what you're doing? I think you just sound like an ass advising me over something you don't understand,"
Harry could strangle the blonde. "You are absolutely insufferable,"
"As are you. I guess some things never change,"
Harry sighed in frustration and plopped into a chair aside the hospital cot, wondering why he'd even tried.
Malfoy was like a feral cat in some ways. Skittish and leery and ready to fight tooth and nail the moment anyone got too close, all the while unaware that the ones approaching were only trying to help. Harry had, after all, been attempting to give Malfoy a chance to surrender. Though he'd hated the blonde for 6 long years, he was bitterly beginning to realize that the longstanding passionate emotion had somehow twisted into this absurd give-a-fuck attitude. He was loath to admit he actually cared about the Slytherin. A small part of him didn't want Malfoy to be the bad guy. If Harry could somehow save him from depravity, he would.
A quite sigh perked his attention, drawing his gaze to the blonde in question. Malfoy's eyes were closed and his chest had begun to rise and fall in a steady rhythmic pattern.
Harry's expression softened. Malfoy had fallen asleep. Such a vulnerably human thing to do in the midst of an 'enemy.' He must have been wearier than he was letting on to have unintentionally drifted off like that. His face was strangely innocent appearing without it's trademark sneer, relaxed and unlined and handsome as a painting.
Harry pursed his lips. Maybe he was able admit that he cared about what happened to Malfoy, but he was not ready to acknowledge this strange new attraction.
His eyes trailed to Malfoy's left arm which was splayed limply beside him, palm skyward and fingers flexed passively.
Curiosity suddenly beckoned Harry as he stared at Malfoy's cloth-covered arm. The temptation was untamable.
With slow care, Harry leaned forward and tugged at Malfoy's sleeve experimentally, watching closely for any signs of awareness.
The other boy did not stir.
Harry sucked in nervously and set his jaw. This could be his chance to discover the truth. Was Malfoy really a Death Eater or were Ron and Hermione right? With bomb-defusing delicacy, Harry began sliding the fabric up the pale column of Malfoy's arm.
His heart jumped into his throat with the first glimpse of black ink, hardly believing his eyes. At that moment, he wished his hunch was wrong. He didn't want it to be true.
The snake's head was unearthed first, followed by its slender knotted body woven through bone and teeth. The skull came last. It's gaping eye sockets were yawning maws, deep and bottomless. Gravity pressed in on Harry enormously as he leaned back into his chair, the Dark Mark exposed and staring up at him evilly. It seemed to writhe with motion just invisible to the human eye, giving the snake an eerily life-like quality.
He'd suspected this all along, but the actual sight of it made him sick to his stomach.
What had Malfoy gotten himself into?
Harry gasped with the shocking realizing that the Slytherin's eyes were no longer closed. They glowed bright as wand light and tracked Harry like a hunted animal. Malfoy's expression was bereft of readable emotion but he parted his lips and spoke.
"This wasn't a choice, Potter. It isn't simple," He said, "But so it goes,"
His words chilled Harry to the core.
Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites! You all inspire me. Anonymous, your lovely detailed comments always make my day. I hope I continue doing you right!
Apologies for missed grammar/spelling issues, as always.