Understanding || Drarry

Understanding

Honestly, the last person Harry expected to see on his nightly wandering was Malfoy. But here they were.

The astronomy tower was a picturesque place to stand at night, when everything in his head became too much to bear and he needed to be alone. The view was incredible, watching entirely over Hogwarts, all of its towers, turrets and features just there to be admired. Harry had always found the castle absolutely magnificent, which was precisely why he had come up here tonight. Hermione had been pestering him about that evil potions book he was in possession of, Ron was obviously stewing over his breakup with Lavender and being an oblivious idiot and Ginny kept twirling her air and batting her eyelids when Harry came close. Honestly.

And to add to that, Harry was absolutely torn up with guilt over the sectumsempra incident of last month.

It had been hard to even look himself in the mirror without shuddering in disgust. He couldn't bring himself to check the Slytherin table for Malfoy's return, too afraid the Slytherin would walk in and be scarred beyond recognition. He'd nearly killed someone.He'd nearly obliterated someone from existence in a brief moment of anger. Malfoy, gone forever. No Malfoy. No one to tease or insult or stare at when he's not looking.

That beautiful blonde hair almost gone, the pale skin almost never seen again, his snarky voice never to be heard.

Harry had nearly murdered someone.

And here he was, with next to no serious consequences for his actions.

Harry hadn't seen Malfoy since the incident, and hadn't looked for him, afraid what he'd find.

"Malfoy? I thought you were still in the hospital wing?" he asked, hovering behind Malfoy, who was stood by the railings. His long fingers were gently resting on the cold metal, and his blonde hair was blowing gently in the breeze. From the angle Harry couldn't see clearly, but he thought that Malfoy's pale face looked impassive in the cold lighting, eyes closed, contemplative. Malfoy didn't even start at his question.

"I was, thanks to you." He said, tone light despite the statement. "Pomfrey let me out earlier."

Harry didn't really know what to say that. How do you tell your rival who you almost killed that you're sorry? The reminder of what he'd done was fresh in his mind. He knew he was sorry, but the question was, would Malfoy believe him? "Oh...good."

Malfoy remained facing away from him. "Not really. No one visited me anyway, so it's not like I was missed or anything."

Harry's eyes widened at the blatant show of self-deprecation. Why would Malfoy tell him that? And surely Malfoy was surrounded by friends. Parkinson had probably been in there every day, kissing him all better and sobbing in that dramatic way of hers. Harry frowned at the thought of Malfoy kissing someone else.

"Uh... don't say that? I'm sure they did miss you-" he began awkwardly, but Malfoy suddenly turned to look at him, and Harry was able to see his face.

He stopped breathing for one horrifying moment.

Malfoy's face, his beautiful face, was split by three scars. Three large scars that pulled his features and ruined the perfect beauty he held.

One was thin, a stark white on his already pale face, curving around his left eyebrow and following the contour of his sharp cheekbone, pulling the eye outward ever so slightly. The second was raised and thicker, cutting though his mouth and twisting the lips unnaturally.

The third was the worst.

It was a violent purple, as if the white wasn't awful enough, and it carved just around his eye, forming a path across his nose and to his cheek. From there, it split into two, branching across his cheek, falling over his jawline and disappearing under his collar.