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PostPosted: Mon May 17, 2021 4:02 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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Having not expected to deal with it so soon, Draco had only skimmed the article of the attack in the morning and thus he didn’t know all the details available from the prophet. It was interesting to hear Potter’s take on the entire thing, seeing as he had been the one living through the entire ordeal, and thus he would be the one who could give the most details.
Based on what little knowledge Draco did have, it seemed highly unusual and he deeply wanted to explore it further. It was something like this he had been studying and researching for for so long and while he had never expected that he was going to help Harry Potter with his knowledge. In fact, he had never really expected that his findings would be able to help anyone much, even if he had always hoped they would, so he would like to put them to the test.
“Definitely sounds like it has something to do with you,” Draco stated, agreeing that it did in fact not sound like tampering with the floo network. Something like that would simply have inconvenienced Potter and that was clearly not the end game with whatever it was. It seemed too heavy, too dark, to be anything other than purposeful malice.
“Was Towthorpe warded?” He asked, having an inkling of an idea, but he knew that he was going to have to rig up a lot of different equipment for running diagnostics on Potter. For now, he only had a set up to check up on artefacts, and even rather small ones at that, so this was a whole new world for him.

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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 5:30 am 

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Harry’s heart flipped when Malfoy agreed, and it almost managed to bring a smile onto his face. Malfoy agreeing that Harry was capable of doing wrong felt strangely gratifying.
"The house in Towthorpe," Harry started, trying to keep the timeline straight. He wished Malfoy would have listened to him Monday when Harry’s suspicions had been more concise around a single issue. He finished the sentence with a breath, Malfoy introducing another nuance to an already difficult story.
"Yeah. Certainly. It was identified as a snake den when signatures matched the one’s of wizards having known associations with Voldemort during the war. Houses like that are always warded, but they’re typically glamours or derivations to keep them off the map."
Harry wished he could have spoken to Malfoy in his office, grounding the story in something else than a haphazard conversation. He shifted, made restless by having to narrate it all from memory. He used the Auror lingo snake den without consideration - Voldemort, too.
"I hadn’t considered that they might be anything else," Harry admitted. "We had Cursebreakers there with us, everything was dispelled before approaching according to protocol. Scans of the house showed no hotspots that could indicate it was trapped and still something spiked upon entry."
If he could avoid it, Harry would like to avoid admitting to the fact that it had knocked him on his arse. He considered for a moment, and then reluctantly folded, making a face. "It was painful, but it didn’t linger. Everybody struck was rushed to St. Mungos regardless, and the Cursebreakers spent the remaining afternoon trying to figure out onto where that curse was attached to, but they didn’t find anything."
The more Harry got to say out loud, the tighter his chest became.
"When I came Monday it was ‘cause I thought it had been an artefact with a signature that avoided any protocol search-spells, and I needed help trying to figure out if any Aurors would have adverse effects."
Harry didn’t continue. He didn’t feel like he needed to clarify what had changed since Monday, but he turned to Malfoy for an answer regardless, half expecting that he would be able see his own conclusion mirrored in Malfoy’s expression.


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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 12:31 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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The mention of the Dark Lord’s name made Draco feel sick to his stomach. He knew that it was becoming more and more widespread to just mention his name, the last lingering fear that it would do anything dissipating with the last reminders of his existence. That still didn’t do anything to quell the fear that had been so deeply ingrained into Draco, having seen the Dark Lord up close more times than he had cared for, and the name was enough to remind him of just how awful it had been.
Yet, Draco didn’t allow himself to linger, knowing that it would likely only cause him to spiral and now wasn’t the time for something like that. He felt that he had shown plenty of weakness in front of Potter already, and now that he for once had the upper hand, he was not very willing to let it go.
“It is not unheard of for a dark artefact to disappear once it has served its purpose,” Draco stated, mostly thinking out loud, figuring that Potter would already know this. However, he needed to think and he was so used to being able to think out loud that that was how he best kept his thoughts organised. He felt that here was a bigger picture that he needed to see and he hoped that he would be able to piece everything together somehow.
He had seen more dark artefacts and dark objects than any one man probably should, finding every single one of them deeply fascinating. He knew just about everything there was to know about different types of dark objects and yet he knew that making one disappear like that was advanced magic.
“If it is indeed an old Death Eater hideout,” he started, finding himself unable to name the Dark Lord, even if he wasn’t much more keen on mentioning Death Eaters by name, “it doesn’t sound unlikely that that is something that could happen, but I would have to run some tests.”
Draco took a break from talking, using the moment to look at Potter properly. There seemed to be nothing physically wrong with him, other than the fact that he clearly had been stuck in the floo network at the ministry, so he knew that he was going to have to pull out something more advanced.
“Fine, I need to get my hands on some other equipment than what I currently have, but come back in a week and I will be ready.”

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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 2:00 pm 

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As Malfoy mused over the information, Harry kept perfectly quiet, feeling himself being balanced on a knife’s edge. If Malfoy was to refuse him again, Harry would be at a loss as to how to proceed; it would be absolutely disheartening having Malfoy confirm that there were reasons for suspicion yet fold in the last moment, disinterested in helping the cause.
Harry hadn’t been aware of the fact that he had been holding his breath until Malfoy finally agreed and the pressure lifted from his chest. He nodded slowly in confirmation, relief bubbling over in his chest as he exhaled.
"I can do that," Harry said, unable to fight a grin from forming across his lips.
While he hadn’t been able to adequately explain why he had such high hopes for Malfoy’s capabilities, the simple mention on equipment sent a thrill down Harry’s spine. He had quickly grown tired of the scratch of aimless detection spells the Healer’s kept offering when he had showed up at St. Mungos, frustrated at their lack of answers.
"I’ll bring you the incident report from Towthorpe; by then I should have the Floo diagnostics, too," he offered, the promise in his voice showing no remorse with his intention of showing Malfoy classified documents. He had managed to capture Malfoy’s interest, and Harry was willing to offer anything that might help keep it until next week.


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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 2:28 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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Just how willingly Potter listened to what Draco had to say, clearly intent on just listening and following suit, sent a huge wave of relief through Draco. He had expected that he was going to have fight Potter on not being able to just diagnose him immediately, and it was a huge sense of relief that he didn’t have to go through all that.
Instead, Potter kept shocking him but offering to bring over any official reports, knowing that it was likely that no single person in the ministry would want him to see those. That was, apparent except for Potter. It was likely just due to how much easier it would make the diagnostics process, yet Draco still felt that it was a compliment to his ability to be trusted.
“Sure, that will help,” he said, not wanting to show just how keen he was to get his hands on those. It was something that seemed so deeply forbidden to him that he couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be trusted with knowledge like that, but he was not about to fight that; figuring that Potter knew how much information he was willing to give to Draco.
“See you in a week,” he said, finding that it almost sounded more like a threat than a promise.

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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 3:10 pm 

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"Wednesday," Harry parroted, the smile still ghosting on his lips. If it was up to him, it was a week too late, but Harry knew beggars couldn’t be choosers. He would readily wait what it took Malfoy to gather his equipment if that in turn provided any clarity.
"Thanks, Malfoy," he said in lieu of a greeting, sending him a glance before reaching for the door, having enough courtesy to apparate from outside the home.
When Harry moved to step through it, he instead walked into something, the motion of the movement tripping over his foot enough for it to knock his glasses askew as he tumbled into it.
Harry could almost have thought he had walked into a window had his hand not still been on the doorknob, the door swung open to his right. More surprised than affronted, Harry’s eyes whipped back onto Malfoy, something off about his expression.
"Funny," he said, voice having gone sour as he straightened his glasses. The impact with whatever charm Malfoy had cast over the doorway had knocked the air out of his lungs, but it was the unexpected malice of the action that made Harry’s stomach knot up.
When his eyes returned to the transparent sheet blocking his entry, Harry let go of the door. When he reached out through it, his hand stopped flat against thin air as if there had been a pane of glass.
He chuckled, but he wasn’t entirely convinced he was enjoying the joke. "And here I though you couldn’t wait to get rid off me."


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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 3:56 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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Draco knew that he needed to get to work, and was keen on getting back to it, such that he would actually be ready for Potter in a week. That plan, however, was foiled by Potter making a comment about being unable to leave.
It took Draco to properly look at him, before his alarm lit up to warn him that someone had tried to remove a dark artefact from the grounds, a sharp blue light that lit up from Potter’s chest.
It made Draco realise immediate that he had already gone about this all wrong, and that maybe he was going to have to take a different approach. This was completely new to him, something that he had never even considered to be possible in such a way, and it piqued his interest more than anything Potter had told him so far.
“I didn’t do anything,” he stated, brow furrowed deeply and his head tilted slightly to the side as he looked at Potter, almost as if he would be able to see the artefact just front looking at him.
“Say, you haven’t happened to smuggle a dark object in here, right?”

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PostPosted: Tue May 18, 2021 4:20 pm 

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As the sudden change of light, Harry all but jumped, nerves worn thin with exposure to bright flashing lights near his person. It made his breath choke out, an annoyed little sound, eyes immediately drawn to the light illuminating his chest. While seemingly harmless, it had startled the hell out of him.
"What, and tried to smuggle it right back out?" Harry replied, peeved at what the lights seemed to insinuate. Peeved that he had let his guard down, too. "No, I haven’t."
His eyes darted back onto Malfoy, his skin flashing blue in the light. He wasn’t looking at Harry, not really, but the way his eyes faded in and out of turquoise made Harry’s stomach turn.
Harry ran a hand across his chest, the color draining from his cheeks when he saw his own hand cast a shadow over the beam of light. "What is this?"


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PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2021 1:08 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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It took Draco a moment of just watching the furious blue light to determine whether or not Potter was telling the truth. It would make very little sense for Potter to have smuggled anything in, especially if he was just going to bring it right back out again, but it might be something that he wasn’t considering to be a dark object, even if it made Draco’s ward react like that.
“It’s my ward telling me that someone is trying to remove a dark object from the grounds,” he stated, seeing no point in beating around the bush. If Potter was going to spend any amount of time in the manor, it only made sense that he should know about the wards that followed.
“It shows me where the object is, so I am asking you again,” he stated, knowing that it was probably annoying, but he wanted to be absolutely certain that Potter was telling him the truth. “Are you in possession of a dark object?”

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PostPosted: Wed May 19, 2021 5:15 pm 

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The repetition, dumbed down this time, made Harry’s jaw clench.
"I’m not in possession of any objects," he specified, pointedly to avoid Malfoy having to ask him a third, useless time.
The startled annoyance directed at an ill-timed practical joke had started to dissipate, in stead giving way for tension, the lack of context to the specific nuances of Malfoy’s wards leaving him tightly wound, unnerved and in the dark.
"All I’ve got on me is my wand, everything else has been confiscated by an Auror for evaluation. There's nothing on my chest."
He stared at Malfoy, frustrated by their imbalance. While Harry’s mind was going a thousand miles and hour just to comprehend what had changed about their interaction, Malfoy seemed obnoxiously at ease. It made Harry want to apparate out of the foyer with little regard to the defensive measures undoubtedly woven into the wards; he couldn’t stand another smug, pointless question, not when Malfoy didn’t even meet his line of sight.
Harry parted his lips to cuss Malfoy out, to have him explain himself better, when something in his expression changed.
"A scar," he dawned upon, the look of defiance finally wavering. For a long, silent moment, Harry almost looked horrified at the implication before his face once again knotted up with annoyed incredulity. "Sod off, that’s not it. I’ve had that since the war, and it’s not once been an issue."


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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 3:02 am 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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The mention of a scar changed something in Draco’s expression, making him realise that maybe he had been going about this all wrong. This was completely new ground for him after all, so he rationally knew that he couldn’t know everything, yet it still bugged him that he hadn’t considered the fact that maybe something had latched onto Potter.
“A scar,” he parroted, finally looking back up at Potter’s face to figure out what he thought of the entire thing. His thoughts were coming and leaving quicker than he had time to react, but he felt certain that he would be able to make it out, if just he could get his thoughts to slow down.
“Is it from-“ he cut himself off, having wanting to be as blasé about the Dark Lord’s name as Potter had been, yet the mere idea of saying his name made Draco sick to his stomach, the words seeming to turn into a weapon in his mouth.
“Is it from him?” Was what Draco settled on, finding that that was the most appropriate way to talk of the Dark Lord in Potter’s presence. Their meeting was becoming more and more bizarre by the second, but Draco was keen to figure out a such about Potter and his relation to dark objects as possible, before he started running any tests.
“Can I see it?” He asked, almost as an afterthought. He knew that scars formed by dark magic tended to behave erratically and he was interested to see if that could potentially be the case with this. Mind, he had never known a scar to cause this amount of trouble, yet it seemed like the best place to start, if Draco ever wanted to get to the bottom of this.

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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 4:20 am 

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Harry’s heart jumped when Malfoy met his eye, an almost violent confirmation that Harry had provided something of value. In return, it offered a moment of shared humanity, not failing to notice the discomfort the notion of Voldemort still brought Malfoy. Harry, in turn, felt nauseous at the implied correlation, and he parted his lips to disagree or perhaps sick up.
He never got to do either, his throughs completely derailed by the interest in Malfoy’s voice. The request made heat pool unexpectedly in the pit of his stomach, the feeling only enhanced by the stark tonal shift of the ask. It made Harry’s face heat up, caught off guard.
It took Harry a long moment of hot, riled static, fists balled at his sides, before he complied, his train of thoughts spiraling to a point where maintaining his own composure felt pointless. With little regard for what Malfoy’s question might have practically entailed, Harry moved to undress, tired of the slow pace of Malfoy's answers. He shucked off his outer coat, the carefully pressed fabric of the Auror uniform thrown unceremoniously onto the floor.
"It’s not," Harry finally answered, his throat in knots, adverting his eyes from Malfoy’s.
His hands were quick and deft along the clasps of his dress coat, but the growing sense of panic just beneath his consciousness made his movements appear erratic regardless. In that moment, Harry had caught up to Malfoy, their balance once again shifting. Harry knew that he held the last damning pieces of information, and had his hands not offered an outlet for his frustration he might have cried.
His dress coat followed, the sounds of the buckles hitting the tile muffled by the fabric already cluttering the floor.
Harry’s eyes returned onto Malfoy as he undid the clasp tying the wand holster to his chest; he pocketed his wand before discarding the leather harness, too. He took an unsteady breath as his fingers easily undid the line of buttons down his suit vest, his skin feeling uncomfortably warm under the intimacy of undressing at Malfoy’s request. "Not in the way you’re asking, anyway."


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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 1:24 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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Draco hadn’t considered the sheer intimacy of what he was asking, until he saw Potter unbuttoning his shirt. It had probably been a stupid thing to ask, especially considering that they were still in the foyer, yet Draco knew that he had to see the scar that Potter was talking about.
Potter’s phrasing made him wonder exactly what it was, knowing that the Dark Lord had many ways to harm someone, but he also knew better than to ask about it. Many wounds were still open, even a decade after the second wizarding war, and Draco knew just how little he would enjoy questions like that, so he decided to keep those questions for another time; or maybe even never.
Instead, he ended up just watching as Potter took off the many, so bloody many, layers of clothes. For a moment, Draco wondered how there could keep being more layers of clothing for Potter to remove, yet every time another piece of fabric hit the floor, there seemed to be another waiting to be unbuttoned.
“But caused by dark magic?” Draco asked, finding that that was a safer question to ask, than the one that was actually burning at the tip of his tongue.

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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 2:03 pm 

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Harry had continued to undress, peeling off suspenders and his tie and dress shirt as Malfoy watched. Despite the context it had the hairs on Harry’s neck standing, finding the situation both dauntingly familiar and utterly heartbreaking in a way he hadn’t felt in years.
Perhaps it was that dire mixture of polarly different emotions that made Harry exhale a chuckle at the question, his desperation tipping over into humour. When Harry raised his gaze to meet Malfoy’s he smiled at him, uninhibited. Yeah.
"We carried his Horcrux for a while," he plainly stated. He finally paused at the last layer, a grey cotton undershirt that only barely managed to filter the light of Malfoy’s ward. Pausing only added to the heavy knowledge that Harry was undressing with an intent, but he needed to see Malfoy’s reaction. "7th year. Ron and Hermione have one to match, proportional to how long we each carried it."
When Harry had first stumbled upon Malfoy’s research, he had been surprised nobody had contacted him. The scars hadn’t made the news upon the time of their discovery or treatment, but it had never been considered an unknown fact. Harry and Ron had started Auror training while their scars were still pink and bruised, neither even attempting to hide or conceal it. Harry figured that maybe the reason their case had never been studied was the simple fact that Malfoy had authored all research on the matter.
"Long exposure to a dark artefact," Harry mused, his voice still too easy for considering the topic.
His eyes were bright, intently on Malfoy, before a smile once again tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Unbelievable’ we haven’t crossed paths before," he added, almost friendly, tough his voice was muffled by the last piece of cotton fabric as he pulled the shirt over his head.


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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 3:16 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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It was hard for Draco to determine whether it was the fact that Potter was incredibly well built, something that definitely shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, or the fact that he was smiling while undressing himself to reveal said body. Both facts drew Draco mad to such an extent that he found it easier to shut all of it down, and instead consider the scar alone.
Immediately, Draco could tell that dark magic had caused it, even if he had not known it already. It had a disturbing pattern, something that Draco had never seen before and knew to be highly unusual; even if he didn’t have much in the world of physical application of his theories.
The scar was large, showing signs of having been on Potter’s chest for over a decade, yet still looking somehow... active? Draco didn’t quite know how to describe it, even to himself, yet he felt that there was something absolutely disturbing about how it seemed to radiate towards Potter’s heart.
Without thinking, Draco took a step closer to Potter, leaning down slightly to try and look through the light of his ward. It was clear that the light was radiating from Potter’s chest and Draco was trying to see if it was actually coming from the scar or just from Potter himself.
Once Draco realised that it would be too hard to tell, he finally got his wand out and waved it in a pattern, making the lightly dim out and disappear. It had served its purpose for now.

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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 3:45 pm 

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For a long, painful moment, neither of them reacted. The foyer was silent, still awash with the pulsating blue light of the ward, and Harry had absolutely no way of knowing what was going through Malfoy’s mind. Harry desperately needed to know.
When Malfoy suddenly shifted, stepping closer, a shiver ran down Harry's spine, catching a hold of his breathing. He felt the air shift against his bare skin, threatening to make his knees buckle.
Despite the easy humour in his voice, Harry felt exceptionally vulnerable under Malfoy’s attentive eye, the intensity of his gaze making Harry’s skin feel hot where it lingered. When Malfoy lifted his wand, Harry instinctively gripped the handle of his own, still poking out of the right pocket of his trousers, on edge with his nerves on his sleeve.
As soon as the blue light disappeared, Malfoy’s features softened, no longer cast in dark shadows from the light shining up at him. Harry doubted that he, in that moment in time, existed to Malfoy as anything but a case to study, yet Harry couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from him.
He once again allowed his hand to drop from his wand.
"How does it compare," Harry started, his voice instinctively lowered though he managed to keep his tone steady. Malfoy was close in a way that made Harry’s brain go haywire, too aware of the hum of his suppressed muscle memory when Malfoy ducked his head another inch. Unintentionally crass, the corner of Harry’s mouth quirked, overwhelmed. "To your expectations."


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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 4:02 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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Draco barely heard Potter’s question, too absorbed in how the scar seemed to stretch towards the heart, how it’s tendrils seemed alive almost. It was a disturbing sight and Draco immediately had a million new questions pop into his head, wanting to know everything there was to know about the scar.
“It’s looks terrible,” Draco stated, head tilted slightly to the side, only just suppressing the urge to reach out and touch the scar, wanting to know whether it was hot or cold to the touch. It was only when his hand was essentially hovering over Potter’s chest that he realised his mistake though, and he felt more than a little sheepish once he realised just how caught up in the purely scientific aspect of it all.
“Has the scar spread since you got it? Or is it stationary?” He asked, stretching his back again without his eyes leaving the scar. He did want to see it up close and personal, but he also realised that his foyer was hardly the appropriate place to properly examine Potter and his scar.
“I’ve never seen scarring behave like that, not even when it’s from dark objects,” he stated, knowing that there was a lot of inconsistency in his line of study, but he felt that something like that would have been discovered, had it been the norm.

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PostPosted: Thu May 20, 2021 5:14 pm 

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Harry’s eyes dipped when Malfoy raised his hand; for a moment, Harry wanted Malfoy to touch him, but he realized he didn’t feel any disappointment when Malfoy reconsidered. It only managed to make Harry’s stomach turn, plenty of people having brushed their hands across the raised lines of his chests without pity or disgust. The academic reverence Malfoy’s suppressed touch conveyed felt utterly pointless.
"I have," Harry dismissed, refusing to allow Malfoy to rile up something Harry fundamentally knew to be untrue. The immediate sense of panic had dissipated, despite the concern growing in Malfoy’s voice. "Ron and Hermione’s the same."
With the light no longer flashing, and no longer able to kick Harry’s ever-present PTSD into high gear, he easier saw through the flaws of Malfoy’s suspicions, and why Harry himself hadn’t considered the scar to be worth mentioning.
"So was Dumbledore’s before it made his finger rot off," he added, not having thought about the Gaunt ring for years. He didn’t know if Malfoy even knew about that.
"He wore a Horcrux for a year and it costs him a finger," he went on, an added sense of justification behind his argument at the recollection.
Finding that they were well past a courteous interaction, it almost annoyed Harry how Malfoy seemed to draw the line of what was appropriate between asking Harry to strip and touching him. Purposefully, Harry reached for Malfoy’s wrist, unceremoniously twisting his hand so that he could press the pad of Malfoy’s thumb against the oval impression of the medallion. Malfoy’s hand was warm to the touch, and the way his finger perfectly filled the divot in his sternum made Harry’s mind cloud for just an instance.
"I wore one for a few months; I guarantee you it would’ve burned a hole in my chest if I had worn it for longer."
His point made, Harry dropped his hands from Malfoy’s.
"It’s always looked like this, and it hasn’t spread since the battle." The more Harry got to say out loud, the steadier his heart rate grew. "I'll answer any questions you might have, but I don’t think this has anything to do with Towthorpe or the Floo."


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PostPosted: Fri May 21, 2021 2:18 pm 

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform bafoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not

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Just how strongly Potter seemed to feel about the scarring being unrelated to the recent incidents made Draco doubt his own judgement in the matter. It didn’t help that Potter was pressing Draco’s hand to his chest, making him the first person that Draco had touched in Merlin knew how long. It made his head spin, even as he tried to focus on how the scarring felt different from ordinary scarring, disappointed to find that there wasn’t much of a difference.
Once Potter let go of his hand, Draco found that it lingered on his chest for a moment longer, fascinated by how the scar seemed to divot with the shape that probably had been the horcrux Potter had been wearing. Eventually, Draco knew that he had to let his hand fall away, finding the touch far too intimate and far too overwhelming.
It was truly fascinating magic, something that Draco had always wanted to study, but, for good reason, had never been able to dive deeply into. Part of him wanted to ask Potter a million questions about the process and about the scar, but he also knew that they had something far more important to dive into.
“I have some diagnostics we can run,” he stated, voice soft with the intimacy of their situation. He took a step backwards, taking another good look at the scar, unable to shake the feeling of unease he got from looking at the way the scarring seemed to lean left, but he also figured that Potter wouldn’t be interested in hearing what he had to say about it.
“You can get dressed. I’ll put on the kettle,” he said, as he left Potter in the foyer, needing a moment to gather himself and get into the role of researcher.

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PostPosted: Fri May 21, 2021 3:44 pm 

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They shared a moment of contemplative silence, Malfoy’s hand lingering long enough for Harry to experience the weight of if shift whenever Harry’s chest rose or fell with his breathing. On the inhale, it felt like it dipped beneath the barrier of his skin, bone pliant beneath Malfoy’s thumb. When he removed it, Harry’s skin felt cold in its wake, and a chill burrowed deep into his chest to replace the touch.
Harry, too, felt the need to shift his stance.
He turned just enough to follow Malfoy’s departure out of the foyer; it was only when Malfoy was fully out of sight that Harry’s shoulders resettled, a tension he hadn’t noticed finally dissipating. There was a great sense of relief tied into Malfoy’s quiet acceptance. Harry’s eyes closed for the duration of a single, steady breath. Though he felt certain this wasn’t the end of this line of questioning, Harry felt reassured that Malfoy had agreed to drop it for the time being.
When Harry once again opened his eyes, he leaned down to pick his dress shirt off the floor. He made a poor attempt of brushing out the wrinkles of his dress shirt, before pulling it on, eyes raised towards the hall leading beyond the foyer.
“So I’m staying?” he called into the void, his voice almost a smile, dauntingly aware of the implications of the wards.


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