It was there, had been ever since I was sixteen. They all said that there was nothing that could be done for it. A reminder of the pain and the fear that had been there. Ever since that day.

Five Years Ago

"Do you see now Potter? I am your better, I want you to know that for as long as you have left. In fact I think a little reminder would serve you well. Bellatrix, Lucius bring him forward."

I was grabbed by the shoulders, my head hanging low and my feet dragging against the floor. There was nothing I could do, my every muscle was seizing and releasing from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse. My mind overloaded with the pain and suffering that Voldemort had done unto me.

I felt a hand grab my chin and the lance of pain through my scar confirmed that it was Voldemort.

"Look at me Potter, I want my face to be imprinted so firmly in your mind that not even death shall take my visage from your thoughts. Bellatrix, his left arm."

A quick severing charm from the witch to my left and my arm was bared before the Dark Lord.

"You are to receive something from me Potter, I feel that this lasting mark shall be so much more important than the previous one I left you. Many in this room would consider it a blessing." Voldemort pressed his wand closely to my left forearm and I struggled against the grips of Bellatrix and Lucius, but to no avail. "Morsmorde!"

A burning agony raced through both my forearm and my scar, leaving me gasping for breath. Voldemort's high cold laugh ringing in my ears.

"Take him to a cell, I want him to wallow for a few days."

As Bellatrix and Lucius handed me off to a pair of large Death Eaters I remained staring at my left arm and the fresh Dark Mark, whose empty eyes stared back at me.

Present day

Rolling up my left sleeve I could see it, shifting lightly in the low light. Taunting me, reminding me of those terrible days of torture and dying loved ones. Other than the couple healers I had seen early after the war no one else knew I had it. No one had seen me without a shirt on after Ginny was killed. Five years of a painful reminder etched into my skin forever.

Staring at the Dark Mark I rolled my wand in my right hand, a thought struck me. I could make it go away, it would be unconventional that was for sure. My wand now held firmly in my right hand it began to point at my left arm.

The downstairs door opened.

"Harry? You home? I've got excellent news."

Hermione was here, she popped by every so often to make sure I was well.

My wand was pressed firmly against the crook of my elbow.

"Harry?"

"Diffindo."

There was a meaty thunk as my left arm hit the floor, blood quickly followed my arm and then the pain hit. The door burst open and Hermione's quizzical face quickly turned to one of horror as I collapsed to the floor.

"Harry, no, oh Merlin, Harry!"

I could myself slipping, shock, I remembered what it felt like from the war. But now that the Mark was gone maybe I could finally forget.

Hermione grabbed me and practically ran to the fireplace, collecting a handful of floo powder and screaming St Mungo's as she threw it in.

We burst into the floo arrivals room, the bright sterile tiles quickly turning red as the blood just kept flowing.

"Help him please!"

A healer turned to us shock etched on her face at the appearance to two war heroes covered in blood. She quickly turned to me though, her wand coming to bear.

"Stupefy."

"Ennervate."

The world came rushing back in a burst of light and sound.

"Mr Potter, Mr Potter. Your attention here please, how do you feel?"

I looked at the senior healer standing over my bed then at the stump where my left forearm had been and finally back to the healer. A smile spread across my face.

"Free."