Never Have I Ever

Chapter 17: Heartbeat

It felt right, having Draco Malfoy's hand entwined with his on the sheets of the bed, but somehow the distance between them still felt like an abyss. Harry was not sure how to resolve this, as he was more occupied trying to remember how to breathe evenly. Then Malfoy reached over and with his other hand, gently touched his chin.

"Did I ever mention that you have an exquisite jawline?" he said, avoiding looking at Harry's eyes, but his familiar smirk on his lips.

"You must have forgotten to tell me", he replied, feeling the heat rise in his face and his hand growing clammy.

"Among some other things," Malfoy smiled.

"Well you've always been good at keeping secrets."

Malfoy paused, then said "You were a hard secret to keep."

They found themselves looking into each other's eyes, neither of them noticing that they had begun to lean in. Harry began to be lost in the intense colour of Malfoy's eyes, and hastily looked down.

"Don't be shy, I know you like my eyes, Potter," Draco quipped, trying to ease the tension. He was feeling as nervous as Harry was, but was not about to let that show, his usual slight smirk lending him some disdain. Harry laughed, a short huff of air through his nose, and he smiled. For a moment, he became acutely aware of the energy between them that he had always felt, but never let himself feel. So many things flitted through his mind in that brief moment before Draco leaned across the impossible distance and their lips softly touched.

Harry felt his entire body tense for a single second, stunned, paralysed with the spark that shot through him like a bolt of heat, and he broke away, a little breathless. His eyes were wide in the semi-darkness, Draco's glinting back at him, brighter now that the imagined was reality. Harry's gaze focused on Draco's perfect lips, illuminated by the moonlit infirmary. He lifted a hesitant hand to brush the hair at Draco's temple, feathery even to the touch, and their mouths came crashing back together.

Again, a heavy ache arose in Harry's core, building to a steady hot heat that seemed to spread across his back. He had never felt this before when he had kissed Cho or Ginny, but he had never felt as if something was lacking. This was definitely different. But this time it was Draco who pulled away, a warm glow to his cheeks, his eyes almost shiny with some sort of fervour. Where Draco's hand lay entwined with Harry's, a burning sensation had begun to travel up his arm when they kissed. It twinged in his bicep, where his Soul Mark was, as if it were being pressed into viciously by a wand, not unlike a mark he had had before.

Nausea seemed to settle in Draco's stomach, as he began to roll up his sleeve, scared to see another tattoo across his skin, but his forearm remained pale in the low light, unstained. Pushing the material of his shirt up past his elbow, the Soul Mark on Draco's arm was revealed. It throbbed, the edges of it tingling sharply like a fresh burn. Harry scrabbled for his wand, whispering Lumos. In the strong white light, the Mark patterning Draco's bicep was now a deep crimson colour, which seemed to glow like it had some inner fire. Draco was entranced by this change in his Soul Mark, disbelieving of what it meant, not noticing the revelation it had been to Harry. His eyes were wide as they took in the intricate lines and swirls across Malfoy's lightly muscular upper arm, convalescing to form the shape of stag. Every detail, even down to the shape of the antlers, was identical to Harry's Patronus. The breath hitched in his throat as several realizations came to him at once, that as Hermione would put it, he had been really rather thick about.

First was that perhaps it had never been chance that had brought them together at Madame Malkin's, having their robes fitted. Harry remembered it almost as if it were yesterday, despite how much had happened to him since. Indeed, going by how little Harry had known about Lord Voldemort and Death Eaters then, it would never have struck him as a coincidence. But perhaps even at the beginning, before it had ever really started, fate had brought Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy together, the same way in which it had brought them together at the very end. Secondly, a mother's love had saved Harry, not once, but twice, and he knew first hand just what that sort of magic that could do. It was entirely feasible that such another bond existed, and here it finally was, intrinsically in ink upon their skin.