Chapter Fifty-Eight

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I gave Draco a soft kiss on his cheek before slipping out of bed to get into the shower. Molly had sent up a trunk full of Draco and I's clothes from the bunker, and I was thankful I wouldn't have to reconfigure that hospital gown dress again.

The water soothed the aches and pains of my limbs, and the lingering pain in my leg. I looked down to see an angry red scar with healing bruises around it. It was sore to the touch, but nothing compared to pain I had felt before.

What does one wear to receive such an award?

Hell if I knew.

Getting dressed up nice and faking a smile in front of the entire wizarding world was the last thing I wanted to do right now.

I felt like I was hanging on by a thread. A small...barely visible thread, keeping me from completely falling apart.

Draco walked into the bathroom, still looking like he was half asleep based on the heaviness of his eyelids.

He poked his head around the corner immediately to check on me in the shower.

"You didn't have to wake up to check on me." I narrowed my eyes a bit with a sad attempt at a smile.

A lopsided, sleepy smirk spread on his face as he rubbed his eye.

"Blaise knocked on the door and woke me up." He yawned, "Something about French toast."

I shook my head and turned the shower off, already missing the warmth of the water.

Draco wrapped a towel around my shoulders and helped me out of the shower, as if I were an old woman crossing the street.

It was endearing.

"How do you feel?" he asked, walking back into the bathroom with our toothbrushes and toothpaste in hand.

"Sore." I winced as I pulled on one of the fuzzy white hotel robes, "But the healers said that was to be expected."

He scanned my figure with his eyes as if he were looking for any more signs of injury, because, knowing him, he probably thought I was downplaying how I actually felt.

"What about you?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his bare torso and laying my head on his chest, "How are you feeling?"

The tension left both of our shoulders as we embraced. He wrapped his arms around me gently and laid his cheek against the top of my head.

"I'm exhausted." He sighed, "It's hard to sleep when you're basically in hell."

"I don't imagine Azkaban has king sized beds and feather-stuffed pillows." I replied, gently rubbing my hand up and down the muscles of his back, feeling the raised scars that marked his perfect skin.

"Azkaban was bad...but the true hell was in my own head." He replied quietly, "I couldn't sleep not knowing how you were. No one would tell me anything, and of course my mind immediately started to wander to the worst-case scenario. Every minute of every day I was away from you was hell because you needed me and I couldn't help you."

I closed my eyes and tried not to let his words break that thin string holding me together.

"It wasn't your fault." I whispered, now tracing the scar with my fingertips, "You're here now. That's all that matters."

He squeezed me a bit tighter and kissed the top of my head for a long moment.

"I love you." He murmured, placing two fingers under my chin and gently tipping my head up, where I was met with the soft grey eyes I fell in love with.

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