Title
: Bruises//Teach him everything you know. In the end, it will make very little difference.// "You want me to teach you dark magic?"
Harry had owled Draco, asking to meet him alone on the Quiditch pitch. "I know you've been giving Dumbledore information. I'm asking you to help me too."
"Why should I?" This was the first test.
"Because I need you. No one else can help me."
Pay dirt. "Just wanted to hear you say it, Harry." Draco said it with his best sneer, and as a typical teenager, Harry lightly punched him in the shoulder. Draco doubled over in pain.
"Draco?" Harry dropped to his knees beside Draco. "I didn't think…. You went home this weekend, didn't you?"
"Yes." The pain was searing. //Every other weekend you will return to the Manor, and continue your study of the Dark Arts. Knowing Lucius, it will not be pleasant, but he is not to cause you permanent harm. If he does, he will pay.//
"Let me see." Harry reached for the hem of Draco's robe, and looked at his back. Horrible. His legs hadn't looked this bad at their worst. "Have you been to see Madame Pomfrey?"
"Can't. He'll know." It wasn't a lie, really. He was sure his father would only make it worse next time if he got it healed. "Is it going to scar?" Oh, he hoped so. He wanted to see if Lord Voldemort would really keep his promise.
"Probably, and I bet it hurts like hell." He reached for something Draco didn't recognize. A white metal box bearing a red cross.
"What is that?" Harry had pulled out strips of white cotton and tubes of something.
"It's a First Aid Kit. This ointment," Harry held up a tube, "Will prevent infection, and it'll help the pain a little."
Harry pushed him to the ground, and Draco lay in the grass as Harry treated his wounds. "How did you get away from the Muggles?"
He paused for a moment. "Pig went for my godfather. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are terribly afraid of him."
"You have a godfather? Why hasn't he been taking care of you all these years?" Draco practically melted into the grass as a cooling sensation overcame a tremendous ache.
"He tried. Dumbledore vetoed it." Harry snorted. "I was better protected by blood ties. Dumbledore's been apologizing since class started again. I've forgiven him but he can't forgive himself." He taped off the bandage. "All done."
"Thanks." He sat up, and didn't miss Harry staring at his chest. "See something you like?" Harry started sputtering, and Draco pressed a finger to his lips. "It's okay, Harry, really. I stare at you quite a bit myself." //The simplest lie is the truth.//
The scars only made him more appealing, and Harry decided that made him a little deranged. He stopped thinking when Draco kissed him.
Draco had always wondered in the back of his mind what the famous Harry Potter's kisses would taste like. Now he knew. Sugar. He wondered what the rest of him tasted like. A hand dropped from Harry's shoulder, tracing down his side.
Suddenly, Harry pulled away. "What am I doing? I can't….I won't take advantage of you like this."
//Potter's biggest flaw is his morality.// Draco watched Harry flee with a smirk on his face. "We have time, Harry. I can wait for you to rationalize."
*****
"Harry!" Harry blinked and noticed Ron shouting at him.
"Oh, sorry." He looked down at his mostly uneaten breakfast. "Is something wrong?"
"I was about to ask you that. You've been staring at breakfast for half an hour." Ron looked concerned. "You sent a mysterious owl, and then disappeared last night. Is something wrong with…er…Snuffles?"
"No, he's fine. I'm just," What could he say? That he was calling himself ten different kinds of a fool for not going through with it last night? For not taking what Draco had offered? "Distracted. I’m just distracted."
Hermione looked up from her arithmancy book. "You stopped being distracted ten minutes ago when you buttered your sausage and poured marmalade on your eggs."
Harry took a glance at the plate he'd been staring at but not really seeing, and saw Hermione was right. He pushed his plate away in disgust. 'I have to get it together. How am I supposed to train with him if one little kiss has me thinking in circles?'
"Here comes the mail." Ron gave Pig some of Harry's ruined sausage. "Hey, who's that?"
An unfamiliar owl had landed in front of Harry, and he took the parchment from it's talons. 'Eleven o'clock, Astronomy Tower. I'll teach you anything you want to know.' There was no signature, but Harry knew who it was from. "It's nothing, Ron. Don't worry."
*****
He demonstrated the first dark art he'd ever been taught. "The Dark Mark. Simple to put up, hard to dispell. It usually takes a whole team of Aurors to pull it down, but there's an easier way. It's overlaid with a locking spell."
Harry nodded, and wrote it down. "What's the code, or does it change?" He didn't notice Draco getting closer.
"It's ridiculous, really. I think Lord Voldemort watched to many B horror films as a child. 666, can you believe it?" Draco was slowly sneaking up behind Harry.
"Yeah." This would help the Ministry quell some fear, if the mark didn't have to stay up for days. He felt a warm hand fall on his shoulder and someone 'Like you don't know who' breathed on his ear.
"If I kiss you, are you going to run away again?" His voice was low, seductive.
"I don't know."
"Let's see." He pressed his lips to Harry's neck, and smiled. Things were going perfectly. //He is beloved by all wizards, yet is starved for human contact. Play your cards right, and he will be… What's the expression, Wormtail? Ah, yes, he will be putty in your hands.//
End Chapter Two
~ When I look into the mirror, and see a face I don't recognize, I am no longer surprised.
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Author's Note: Conversation in // are Draco remember a past conversation with Lord Voldemort. Also, I am a Slytherine with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named as her top match. Be warned.