Cicatrices- Marks That Remain

To See the Face of God

Happy Sunday, fantastic readers!! I am giving y'all a chapter this week AND next week, because I have enough chapters to be able to do that right now!

This chapter is Very religious. There's lot's of ideas talked about. Quick reminder that there's lots of different ideas and opinions all over this story for everyone, and no single opinion or other held by anyone is indicatory of anything for my own opinions. These are all just what I think the characters would believe. Overall, I loved writing this chapter. And it's going to be a major turning point for Draco!

Please let me know what y'all think, and, as always...

Enjoy!

Draco's heart was picking up anxious speed as he made the decision to get Harry a glass of water while he broke down in sobs. It was racing when he covered Harry with a blanket and pried Harry's hands from his hair. By the time Draco committed to fully holding Harry's hand, Draco was certain his heart vibrated rather than beat.

His heart stuttered quite violently when Harry put a hand on his shoulder. His brain was screaming contradictory statements of lean in, close the gap, kiss him and abomination. Man shall not lie with man. Your blood is upon you.

Then Harry kissed him, and Draco just about short-circuited. His brain skidded to a halt, his thoughts obliterated. Then, Harry's hand found his cheek, and Draco's brain caught up just enough to register that warm hand comforts him, that hand makes him feel safe. And so he melted into it, lips parting just slightly, just enough to show that he welcomed it. That he wanted it.

Then it was over almost as quickly as it started. They were looking at each other again. Those piercing green eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, and Draco was barely holding it together, himself. After all, their conversation had made Draco truly try to string things together for the first time since he was detained- made him truly think about what had happened.

So Draco did not let himself think at all. After only a half-beat of hesitation, he tugged Harry forward, let him rest on his shoulder, and enveloped him in a hug.

Except feeling Harry close like that made his chest ache with emotion, and he felt himself beginning to unravel, so he did the only thing that he knew could keep him together. He squeezed Harry as tightly as he was able, even as Harry began to cry again, leading Draco to let a few tears leak out himself (but only a few. He would not- could not- let more fall).

Sitting and watching animals on the telly was nice, Draco thought. Being near Harry- near that warmth and kindness and goodness- was even nicer. And that was precisely the problem.

Because of course, with any undue thoughts of Harry, came the horrible voice in Draco's head. The one that made his stomach twist with fear, that told him it was things like this that made him so incapable of finally being good after so many years of being bad.

Abomination. Your blood is upon you.

Of course, Harry Potter had to be his salvation and his damnation all at the same time.

Draco began tapping each of his fingers to his thumb-index, middle, ring, pinky- soft taps in quick succession. He found it helped him feel a bit lighter, a bit more calm even in the presence of this proof that he is unforgivable.

After a bit of this, Draco was able to continue enjoying his time with Harry. The telly switched from a documentary about the Amazon (a bloody terrifying place, in Draco's opinion) to one about ferrets and other animals in the same family. Draco thought they were rather adorable. Then that train of thought was interrupted as Harry barked out a laugh and nudged him, exclaiming 'Oh look, it's you!'