Chapter Text
Draco arrives over two hours early for the train that would take him and his other year-mates back to the one place he has ever felt safe, loved even. Yet that was before the final battle. Before his father was sent to Azkaban where he was given a Kiss, no more than a month into the summer holidays. Over the course of a few days his mother seemingly shut off her son from everything he had known about her, blaming herself for the horrid mark adorning his pale, scarred left arm.
'Such pretty scars,' Draco's long, graceful fingers caress the lines marring the skin beneath the hideous black reminder of how utterly pathetically he is. 'I could not fulfill a single task, I could not protect mother from anything...what am I good for if I can do nothing for the only person that ever loved me?' Looking down at his arm, Draco fails to notice a presence standing just a few steps away, watching him.
"Hating yourself for something that you hardly had any control over." Starting from his hunched position, Draco looks up to see the greenest eyes he has ever known, for once not hiding behind hideous glasses. "Worrying over what could have been just leaves you miserable in what is your current life. Trust me, just let it go." A sincere smile graces his plump pink lips, crinkling around his eyes.
"Harry...you look..." Eyes track up and down the tanned lithe form beside him. Taking in all the changes from the slightly scrawny teenager he was just a few months ago. Tracing up from the dragon hide boots to the dark wash jeans that were tight in all the right places. A tight shirt a deep green matching his sparkling eyes. Dragon hide jacket firmly held in one hand, tattoos of various symbols covering his left arm. A low chuckle causes his stormy grey eyes to shoot up to those perfect lips, 'perfect?' A pink tongue peeks out to trace over a silver ring around the right side of his bottom lip. Another ring glints from his nose. "Different."
"I could say the same thing, gorgeous," Draco gapes at the suggestive tone.
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Stepping onto the platform over two hours early, Harry looked around. his eyes roaming over a seemingly endless amount of bricks, reminiscing about old times and happy (or not so happy) memories of his times at Hogwarts. After weeks of traveling all throughout the United Kingdom, both Muggle and magic, he had acquired a style of dress that suited him far better than the over sized faded hand-me-downs from his cousin. During his trip he did extensive experimentation with several different blokes and birds. One relationship ended up with him having four piercing in both ears, a nose ring and a lip ring, another part of his time brought him a steely grey eyed pure white ferret that is currently "sleeping" in his carrier bag hung precariously over his shoulder. Over the entire expanse of those few short weeks, he only ever hooked up with blondes who had light eyes, though he never understood why...
On a trip with Ron to Romania, Harry received tattoos of various runes to help him with different aspects of his life, mainly to block nightmares of the war from his subconscious. Hermione had nagged him for hours upon their return saying she could have done the same thing without him having to spend money. Before he could daydream any further, his eyes landed on a slumped figure on the bench not even ten paces to his left. A shock of blond hair falling over the face of a boy--no, a man that Harry was shocked to see looking so despairingly at his pale, marked, left arm. Taking a minute to take in the changes from when he last saw the blond, Harry was pleasantly surprised to notice that he appeared to have gotten taller, muscles more defined without being gaudy, shoulders broader even from the angle he was currently sitting. It took Harry through a loop to feel the pure, unadulterated want towards this blond angel before him. 'Did I just mentally call Malfoy an angel?' Not wasting any more time on these thoughts he approaches the man in front of him in long strides.
Looking down and his companion's arm, Harry feels near physical pain at the criss-crossing lines traveling up Draco's left arm, over where the dark mark is stuck to his, once, perfect skin. Several moments of silence passed before Harry spoke, seemingly reading the mind of the mourning man before him, Lucius' death had been in the papers for weeks, as had Narcissa's spiral into recluse behavior. 'His eyes look so lost, even with everything else he is feeling, they just look lonely.' The raven's smile toward Draco genuine, probably the first in months, as the blond man seemed to take in all of Harry's appearance. At his one-time-ferret's fumbled words and roaming eyes, the parselmouth could not help but chuckle a bit. With a foxy smirk, Harry licked his lips and watched as those sinfully searching eyes traveled all of his face before stopping at his glistening forest rivaling eyes.
Not waiting for a response to his suggestive comment, Harry leaned forward and captured Draco's lips, finally realizing what he had been pining for since that moment at the end of the final battle. Lips that, with only a moments hesitation, molded perfectly against his, won access into his lion-hearted snakes mouth to trace teeth and rub Harry's own flexing muscle. After an entire summer of wrong feelings, being with Draco felt right, just like the first time.
"I missed you."