The Mark.
For: From the Dark I Will Rise.

Series: HP
Pairing: Ron/Blaise
Request: Dark Mark
Word Count: n/a

NOTE: -short, simple, and bittersweet. Didn't even make a page in word.

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I knelt at his side, hands fisted in the folds of his robe and leaning against the couch as he read to me. I was sleepy – too comfortable sitting at his feet and too warmed by the dungeon's fire.

I yawned as his hand ran through my hair, not bothering to hide the action.

He chuckled lightly, and I looked up from the book and into his face.

"Tired?" he asked me. There was an unvoiced something at the end – maybe love, maybe idiot, maybe pet or minion.

I didn't bother trying to decipher it, I simply nodded drowsily. It was strange how relaxed I could be around Blaise – a Slytherin, an enemy – especially considering the mark he carried on his arm – the mark that defined him as something I should hate for trying to kill my best friend.

The dark mark.

I reached to the hand holding the book and pulled back the sleeve. I ran my hand over the skull etched into his skin. The snake hissed at me soundlessly as the magical tattoo moved, but didn't try to snap at my hand. It was strangely fascinating, while at the same time somewhat morbid. "Did it hurt?" I asked without thinking.

His answer was simple.

"Like Hell."

I didn't ask anymore questions, simply rose up and kissed him – long, lingering, and comforting. I don't know who needed that comfort more, me or him.

THE END.