Battle Scars {Draco Malfoy}

Chapter Fourteen

As Clara sat with Draco during breakfast, she felt horrible as her eyes continued to wander towards the sleeve of his left arm. She absolutely hated when people stared at her scars, and there she found herself doing the same thing to someone else. However, she was curious as to why he hadn't just healed the scars on his arm. Unlike the scars on her face that were infected with lycanthropy, his scars seemed like the kind that weren't caused by magic. Then again if they were self-inflicted there was probably a reason as to why he didn't heal the wounds over properly.

"It never goes away." Draco finally muttered to her.

She looked up and met his gaze. Normally, the pale icy blue gaze held such a coldness in the time Clara had known him prior to the war, but the blue eyes before her, didn't hold cold, just sadness. Everything about the Draco before was just incredible sad, from his appearance to the sound of defeat in his voice.

"What never goes away?" she whispered.

"The mark." he replied. "No matter what...it never goes away. No amount of healing magic or counter spell can remove it. It's a permanent reminder of all the things I've done wrong in my short life."

Clara swallowed before setting her hands on the table and clasping them together to hide the nerves that rattled through her body.

"Did you do that to yourself?" she asked him.

"The Dark Mark-" The look on his face held confusion as if he thought she were asking if he had given himself the Dark Mark.

"No...the scars...did you..." 

Draco peered down at his arm that was still cloaked by his sleeve and nodded.

"I thought that if I scratched up the area enough that no one would be able to see it." he admitted. "But no matter how much damage I do to the area, it just shines right through it all. The only way I can ever see it going away is if I..burn myself."

"Don't do that!" she told him with an alarmed expression. If he was seriously considering burning himself she had to voice her opinion against it.

"I'm not going to." Draco informed her. "I just see this as my punishment for what I've done. People will always know what I've done because it'll be clearly written across my arm."

"A scar...is just that." Clara began, " It's a scar, at least that's what I tell myself everyday. And with most scars, no one knows the full story behind a scar unless the person who wears the scar tells them. No one knows how you came upon that particular...one...unless you tell them the story. Sure, they can come up with their own theories, but no one knows but you, and if you know, then whatever other people think doesn't matter."

Draco placed his hand over the mark. "Do you believe that? Do you believe what you just said?"

"I'm slowly convincing myself. The difference is with me is, everyone pretty much knows how I got these scars, there's really no other way that I could have gotten them. But I know that I fought bravely against the werewolf and I was willing to die in the battle if it meant to keep my friends safe...I fought for them...even if they don't fight for me now...I have no regrets just painful reminders."

It became quiet for a moment while Clara took a few seconds to look around the Great Hall before turning her attention back to him. 

"Everyone here can claim that they know you and your story, but you're the only one who truly does because you lived it, not them. Everyone in this hall has done something they've regretted, some things more serious than others, but it gives them no right to judge others. No one here is perfect as much as they like to think they are. And if they think they're perfect they need a serious reality check."

She twiddled her thumbs as she realized she had been rambling on and on.

"Sorry, sometimes I tend to get carried away in a conversation."

"No, it's okay. I...I wanted to hear what you had to say." Draco said.

"Really?"

"Yes. No one has really spoken to me since I've arrived here. I don't blame them though. Even the professors, they do whatever they can to avoid talking to me, it isn't hard to see that. You and...Tabby..."

"Abby." she corrected him with a small smile.

"Right, sorry. You and Abby are really the only people that have gone out of their way to speak with me."

"Do you remember first year...the Sorting Ceremony?" Clara asked him.

"Sort of. Why?" Draco responded slightly puzzled by where she was going with the conversation.

"Before we were sorted Professor McGonagall said that the Sorting was very important because the house you would be placed in would become your family during your stay at Hogwarts."

"I remember that briefly...what about it?"

"I believe that some of your house members probably do feel like family, but I don't think just same house members should be viewed as family. The whole school should be viewed as a family. Because despite there being four houses, we all live in one castle and that's Hogwarts. We're a Hogwarts family and I wouldn't turn my back on family. During the Battle, I fought as if everyone here was a family member that I wanted to keep safe. Because we are a family here at Hogwarts. So, don't consider yourself alone. At least you have Abby and myself to turn to if you're in need. Even if it just for a listening ear."