Draco?" Harry's voice was soft, worried as he pushed open the wooden door. Letting it swing behind him, he softly closed it shut. He'd spotted his name flickering over the Marauder's Map here, in the Gryffindor common room for too long. And decided to check it out. The pale, blond boy looked up to him from where he sat, in a puddle of what looked like marbled blood and water on moist, dirty tiles. Tears streaked past Draco's cheeks, which were drained of colour, eyes puffy and hollow. He was curled up into a ball, and he looked smaller than ever to Harry. In those moments, he wanted nothing more than to run up to him. To embrace him. But wisps unknown swept past him, holding him in place. And his feet stood rooted to the ground. "Go away, Potter."

"No." Draco avoided his gaze, sweeping his attention anywhere else but Harry, waiting. One minute passed. Then two. Three. Four. Five.

He turned away, his grey eyes ringed by the dim shafts of moonlight that shifted through the ancient glass window panes. Harry looked at him warily, almost like a dog begging for a bone. His eyes seeked the dragon's desperately, wanting something- anything to explain the mess they were in. As if sensing Harry's avid gaze, Draco relented slightly. "Here's the thing, Harry. I'd fight for others, but no one will fight for me, " he paused, looking up at Harry. The other's eyes were rimmed with red, stunning emerald mingled with something of grief and agony,but as he opened his mouth to speak nothing seemed to come out. Don't say that, he wanted to say, you still have me. But could he say that, truly? It was safe to say that now, in the middle of a bathroom a rare few would stumble upon. But in the middle of the Great Hall, in front of Ron and Mione, would he be able to say those words? Yes, his heart answered..but his head- his head didn't quite know what to say.

Instead, Harry clenched his fists, and blood gushed further out of his open wounds. "Don't try telling me otherwise, Potter. I can see it in your eyes."
Painstakingly slowly, the blond turned around. In the light of the moon that shifted through, his pale blond hair seemed to grow, like a halo. Ironic, Harry supposed. But perhaps he was. Really, Harry? Even after all he'd done? The voice, unbidden, came back to taunt Harry. It'd been there for ages, trying to reason against it, this feeling he had, this warmth and hope he got whenever he stepped too close to Malfoy. Too late, he supposed, a hopeless smile making its way to his face as he grasped the blade in his fingers tighter. Blood dribbled further down his slender, scarred fingers, dripping to the ground. Both of them watched, as crimson mingled with clear water drip by drip, turning murky. Slowly, Harry gathered his courage, his voice trembling. Please, don't fail me this time. " I will. "

Malfoy laughed bitterly, running his fingers through his hair. The blood that adorned his hands, too, stained his blond hair. Really, the moonlight didn't suit him, Harry thought. It accentuated his unnaturally pallid skin, the heavy bags beneath his eyes. Still, something about him took Harry's breath away. He'd always been beautiful, after all. Just not the way most thought. His eyes laced with bitterness, and agony twisted his lips into an ugly frown. He was a mess, Harry thought, and so was he.

Finally, he raised his head to meet with Harry's eyes. "Really, Potter? I suggest you do away with your fantasies now, Potter. It's impossible for you to fight for me. After all..." Draco's voice trailed off, unable to continue as he gestured hopelessly around the bathroom they were in, drafty and dark. After all I did to you, was what he meant, but again, nothing came out.
There were too many things, too many words between them left unsaid, after all. The things they'd done, to hurt and to protect one another. The things Draco had done, to protect himself, letting Death Eaters come in and hurt Harry. The things he'd done to Harry, hexing him, cursing him, while dreaming of him near him, kissing him. " I don't deserve it, Potter. And I don't want your pity. Use it on someone else, someone better than me. " Letting his eyes linger on Harry's one more time, he let his gaze fall before turning around and leaving. He'd let this carry on for too long, after all. Trodding through the murky puddle of blood, of their blood, Draco twisted the doorknob, pushing open the door. His left foot one step out of the door, until-

"Stay with me, Draco. " Draco bristled at the mention of his first name. Icy cold fingers wrapped around his bruised wrist. He could hear the fear behind the words, the twisted affection and concern behind them. Cautiously, Harry approached him, moving his hand on his shoulder. "Let's talk about this, Malfoy."
Malfoy tightened his jaw. Harry could feel the stubbornness radiating off him in waves, even if his shattered eyes said otherwise. "What for? There's nothing to talk about."
Harry raised an eyebrow. The grip on Malfoy's hand tightened. "There is, and you know it as well as I do. Don't be stubborn, Malfoy."

"There isn't." For all the masks Malfoy could put on, there wasn't a single shield he could put up now. Not in front of him. Know thyself, and know thy enemies. Only worked if your enemy didn't know you as much as they knew themselves. And if your so-called enemy wasn't simultaneously the person you yearned for the most. Again, the corners of his lips curled up mirthlessly. Green eyes locked with grey eyes, ensued in a battle, or a dance of sorts. Trying to figure the other out. Harry moved closer, his mouth set with determination.

"I don't believe you."
They stayed like this for a few minutes, listening to each other's heartbeats and breaths intermingling for a moment, before Draco finally gave up.

"Fine. Let's talk, then." Draco stepped back, letting the door swing shut. Turning to face Potter, he crossed his arms, ignoring the other's grasp on his arm. "What do you want to talk about, Potter?"

Anything. Everything. Honestly, Harry had no idea what to talk about. With everything, with anything happening between them. His eyes skimmed over Draco, running along his tightly fitted pants, his dishevelled green robes. Green suited him, Harry thought distractedly- something about the harsh green brought out the silvery grey of his eyes. Then his gaze ran up, along to the soaked shirt that clung onto every crevice of his upper body, stained with swirling blood. Harry's throat went dry at the sight of him, and he wanted nothing more than to let his fingers run. Draco huffed softly. "Quit staring at me, Potter. What did you want to talk about?" His features softened, traced with acrid amusement.
"I..."

"Use your words, Potter. What do you want this time?" Harry avoided his gaze, his heart swelling, beating louder with every passing moment. Finally, he responded, "You."

His voice was barely above a whisper, but Draco heard it. He could hear his own breath catching, too. Surely...This wasn't possible. The Glorious, amazing Harry Potter, Saint Potter, wanting him? Possibly in love with him? As much as his twisted, maimed heart jumped at the thought of that, Draco's mind deflated at that. I can't. It's not possible. "There's no way, Potter. You already know what I am." Already know of the cursed ink that stains my skin, the involuntary whispers of a master neither of us wish to serve. But I have to, Potter. And letting you do this: letting you love me, or want me- will only make this worse. Even if I want you too. But the last six words were hidden, too painful to speak of out loud. But there was nothing he could think of to push him away, not like this. Not when he'd already seen him like this. The only thing he could think of was to sunder his mask again, to put it up and pretend, but he wasn't sure if he had enough in him to do that. "We can't, Potter. And what do you think people will say of the pathetic Potter then?"

Emerald eyes flashed in momentary hurt and anger, before he realised that there was no barb in his words. Then it hit him. "You've been talking about what other people want, Draco. But what about what you want? What I want? Have you thought of that?"

Draco's hollow eyes flickered at that. He couldn't help the tiny, damnable surge of hope that inched up. But bitter, cruel reality came crashing down. " We can't, Potter." No matter what you say. You know of the cursed ink on my hands, don't you?" He wants you dead, Harry- and I'm meant to help him."

Harry's emerald eyes caressed Draco, and he couldn't help but lean closer. The Malfoy Heir almost started, moving back. In the moments between despair and heartbreak, the words that slipped out intermingled, crashing into each other as they slid past, just like those two. Finally, Harry spoke up. "And what if I don't care about that?"

A grim smile made its way onto his face. "Don't be foolish, Harry. You'll have to care, Saviour of the Wizarding World. "
Harry stepped even closer still, his messy raven hair inches away from Draco's face. Between moments framed in desperation, neither of them bothered to keep up with their usual pretenses. " But you're not happy. This isn't what you want. Can you really imagine yourself, taking a blade and plunging it into my chest? Or pointing your wand at me and shouting the Killing Curse? Could you do it, Draco?"
The other boy closed his eyes, as if thinking. A look of anguish crossed his features, and he stiffened. He was tired, so goddamn tired, and he was weary. The smell of treacle tarts mixed with the heady smell of Amortentia didn't help, either. When he spoke again, his voice was as soft as a drizzle."No."

"There's no way I could do that. But there's no way I could come with you, either. I'm too far gone, Harry."
"There must be something we can do."
"There isn't, Harry. Believe me, I've tried."
Harry's gaze softened, and he wanted nothing more than to close the few inches between them. Draco was gaunt, his frame light- too thin. "I believe you," he whispered, "but if we go to Dumbledore-"
Draco's grey eyes snapped up at the sound of that. " Dumbledore won't do anything, Harry. He hates my father, remember?"
"But-"
"No buts, Harry. He won't help me." His voice wavered with a note of finality, like a door shut close.
Still, the green-eyed boy remained stubborn. "He might not like you, but wouldn't he be obligated to help you, as your principal? Or Mcgonagall? I'm certain she'd help us-"
Draco smiled sadly, shaking his head. "Don't, Potter. There's nothing we can do." Don't give me hope was what he meant to say. Still, Harry couldn't be shaken off so easily- " But Mcgonagall could help! I'm sure there's something the Dark Mark is modelled on that we could use to break it- I've read about it somewhere..."
He carried on talking animatedly, while Draco stood, dumbfounded. No one told him the Golden boy talked or knew quite so much, and definitely not like this- or that he'd somehow want to help him. But the words came out in a torrent, giving him a splitting headache-
"Harry, stop," The Golden Boy's face fell at the sound of that, "Why do you even want to help me, anyway?"
Hearing this, the Gryffindor's courage died away. Avoiding Draco's glance, he looked away. Despite himself, the slytherin couldn't control the shred of amusement he had. For some reason, Harry looked like a defeated puppy. Half of him wanted to reach out to ruffle his already messy hair, but he restrained himself. "At a loss for words, Potter?"

Gods, his voice sounded strained, even to his own ears. Harry still avoided his gaze, going as far as to take a step back. His heart accelerated in his chest, and he could feel heat building up behind his ears. Finally, he built up his courage, letting loose the words he'd wanted to say for a long time. "I love you, Draco. I don't want to see you hurt- I want you to be happy."
Finally, he looked up, awaiting the former's response. Expecting to be scorned.

Suddenly, cold lips crashed onto his own, and he felt arms pulling him closer. Taken by surprise, he let Draco continue- not before leaning into the kiss, devouring and savouring the taste of apple on his lips. He tasted exactly as Harry had always envisioned- like green apples, bitter and sweet, just like him. He couldn't count the number of days he'd dreamt- had hoped, of kissing him, of tasting him, until he was senseless.
Instead, they kissed until neither of them could breath, separating momentarily before going at it again-
Taken by sudden frenzy- or rather, euphoria that the boy he'd been after for so long loved him, Draco crossed the few inches between them to seal their lips- he felt like a man without oxygen- only this time, Harry Potter was his oxygen, and he breathed him in as eagerly- after years of hoping, years of wanting with no true assurance, he finally had him where he wanted him. In his arms, his hand buried in his untamable mop of curls. Still, he took what he needed- as Harry's warm lips moved against his, giving him the warmth and comfort he hadn't felt for a long time. Oddly, he felt safe in the Scarhead's arms- he felt wanted, needed. Who knew the Saviour's embrace was so gentle, so caring? So warm- and he melted.

Slowly, they pulled apart. Harry's eyes were glowing, even with the dazed expression on his face. And Draco- his eyes were brighter than they'd ever been- especially against the dark backdrop of the dreary bathroom they were in. "Why," Draco whispered, breathless, "Didn't you tell me this earlier?"
Harry looked to the side sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly, "I...I didn't think it'd make a difference."
Oh, it made a difference, alright. And none at all. "It didn't, Potter."
Confusion crawled over his face. "Then why?"
This time, Draco gave a smile- a real smile. To Harry, the smile illuminated his face. "Because I love you too, Harry. And if that means anything, then I'm willing to try."
"Why?" Harry still couldn't quite wrap his head around it.
This time, Draco looked him straight in the eye, his eyes overflowing with affection and tears, "Because I want a future with you, Potter. And if I have the chance to take it, I will. Just promise me you won't leave me."
Emerald eyes didn't waver, and determination set across Harry's face. " I won't. I promise."
He raised his right arm up, "I, Harry James Potter, do solemnly swear that I'll stay with Draco Lucius Malfoy, be it in being or spirit for the rest of my life, unless decreed otherwise by Draco Lucius Malfoy."
Unable to control himself any longer, Draco engulfed Harry in a bone-crushing hug, wide grins spreading over their faces.

In the end, they went to Mcgonagall, who was able to break the hold of the Dark Mark using the research Harry had secretly done. Since the Dark Mark was assigned unwillingly, the easiest way to break the mark was to have Draco willingly pledge allegiance to another- both in magic and soul. By chance, Harry got re-sorted into Slytherin with Draco, and they lived together in 12 Grimmauld Place after, with Sirius after the Dursleys' abuse was found out. Besides the few complications, they lived peacefully, especially after finding the Horcruxes and defeating Voldemort.

.