Title: Healing Touch

Author: Aisling River-Raven

Series: Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco/Harry

Timeline: HBP

Rating:PG-13

Summary: Harry broke Draco during their fight in the bathroom. Can he help put the Slytherin back together?

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters (even if she won't acknowlege their love).

Healing Touch

The room was nearly completely dark, save the slivers of moonlight casting their eerie glow through the windows.

It was chilly, and Harry shivered beneath his invisibility cloak. He thought about turning away, but he couldn't. He needed to see for himself that he didn't cause permanent damage to Malfoy.

Releasing a deep breath, he pushed his way past the wooden door and into the infirmary. There was only one bed that held a sleeping student. Harry made himself move closer.

He could see the platinum hair, nearly glowing in the dark room, peeking out from the dark blankets. Malfoy's form was almost completely still, and for a moment, Harry felt his heart stop. There was no way he could live with himself if he killed someone, not even his rival. Not even if that rival would've used the Cruciatus curse on him.

But then Harry spotted the faint rise of Malfoy's chest, and sighed in relief. The ferret was still alive, still breathing. Harry could almost wipe his conscience clean. Almost.

He knew, from the amount of blood mixed into the water that had flooded the bathroom hours before, that Malfoy would have scars. He had given this boy scars. Just like Voldemort had given Harry.

The raven-haired boy shook his head. He didn't mean to hurt Malfoy. Not like that, anyway. All he had wanted to do was confront him. To tell Malfoy that whatever his mission, it was wrong. All Harry wanted was for Maloy to see the light, to join Dumbledore's side. But like everything involving Malfoy, things heated up far too quickly.

"I'm sorry," he said to the sleeping blond. "I never should've used a spell that I didn't know."

He moved the blanket down, and his hand touched the outside of Malfoy's pajamas. He felt the heart beating beneath his hand and gasped. Electricity flowed between their skin.

Malfoy mumbled something, causing Harry to pull his hand away. He waited a moment to see if the other boy would go back to sleep, but silver eyes blinked open.

"Potter," he whispered, surprised. "What are you doing here? Come to cast another spell while I'm defenseless?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he replied. "I just...I needed to make sure you were alright. I-I'm...sorry. I didn't know what that spell would do."

Draco snorted. "Well, that justifies it. You didn't know you'd hack me to bits."

"For what it's worth," Harry continued, "I was so scared when I saw you lying in the puddle of blood. I've never been that horrified before. Not even with Voldemort right in front of my face. I really thought you were going to die. And I'd do anything to take it back."

"Anything? Really?" Malfoy questioned. "You do realize how dangerous that is to say to a Slytherin."

"Doesn't matter," Harry replied. "I want to make this up to you. I don't want to fight with you anymore. Ron and Hermione are right. I've become obsessed, and I don't like who I am anymore."

"Come here, Potter," Malfoy whispered. Harry leaned in closer.

"Kiss my scars," the blond said. "Provide the healing touch."

Harry looked into the other boy's mercury eyes. "Are you serious?"

Malfoy smirked. "I do believe it falls under the category of anything."

Harry nodded and moved his hands to unbutton Malfoy's shirt. Each button slowly exposed more cool, pale skin. But covering the ivory were thick lines of scarlet. Gashes that still looked fresh, that reminded Harry of what he had done.

"Shit, Malfoy," he said, as he gently traced the cuts with his fingers, "I'm so sorry."

"Draco," the blond said.

Harry looked up. "What?"

"If we're going to do...whatever it is that we're doing, I want you to use my name. Call me Draco."

"Draco," Harry repeated. The name felt nice on his tongue. It caressed his mouth, and for a moment, he wondered why he never used it before.

"Draco," he asked. "Why...when I saw you in the bathroom, I wasn't going to start a fight. All I wanted to do was ask why. I know you have a mission from Voldemort-"

Draco shivered, from what Harry assumed was the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "I can't tell you," he said. "I just...I didn't mean for that girl to get hurt. She wasn't supposed to touch the necklace, just deliver it."

"Look, Draco," Harry replied, "I can help you. Dumbledore can help-"

"No one can help me," Draco hissed. "No one, not even you. He- He has my mum. He'll kill her. If I deviate from the mission at all, he'll kill her. If it was just about me, I'd have probably offed myself before the school year started. But my mother..."

"He killed my mum, too," Harry whispered. "I want to help you. I've figured out from following you this year, that your life is more difficult than I thought it was. You're just like me, Draco. You're just caught in this war, you didn't choose any of this."

Draco let out a shake breath. "I can't be on your side, Harry. I can't be your friend. Not now. Not if you have any chance at all of beating the Dark Lord."

Harry furrowed his brow. "You want me to win?"

Draco huffed a laugh. "Of course I want you to win. I didn't at first. I thought that a world without muggles and mudbloods would be great. I thought that a world under the Dark Lord's rule would be great. This world my father was working for...but I was wrong. This isn't what I thought it would be. He's not what I thought he would be." Draco looked up into Harry's emerald eyes. "You have to win. But I can't be on your side if I want that to happen."

Harry nodded. And then he looked down at Draco's chest. He looked at the scars, standing out against the beautiful skin. "Do you still want me to kiss them?"

Draco shivered and closed his eyes, but nodded. "Yes."

Harry moved his head down and brushed his lips against the cuts in the blond's torso. He could taste the blood, and he could practically feel the heart beating below him.

A whimper vibrated in Draco's chest, and Harry started to pull away.

"Don't," Draco said. "Please, continue."

Harry's tongue joined his lips, as he kissed more of the scars he had created. With any luck, he could also heal them. And maybe, with time, he could help heal Draco.