Post-peace Chaos (Drarry)

Chapter 17

[Draco]

Without a second of hesitation, he swept Harry up bridal style. He would require instant treatment.

Barely grunting, Draco carried him to his door.

He realized his wand was in his pocket. With both hands occupied, Draco thrust his right hip towards the door, muttering the unlocking spell. The door won't budge.

Draco arched his body and aimed the wand in his pocket, he hoped, directly, at the door. It flew open. Relieved, he inched inside with Harry in his arms.

He cut directly across both rooms on the first story and climbed up the stairs, sweating slightly. Thank Merlin the house didn't come with a spiral staircase.

Kicking open the door of the closest bedroom, which was the one Harry stayed in, Draco carefully laid him on the bed. He gently pulled off his glasses.

He adjusted the pillows so that Harry's head would be a comfy fit and pulled the covers over him, leaving out his legs because he knew he would definitely be blazing hot if he woke up with the sheets fully on.

Draco quietly left and came back with supplies. Dipping the fresh towel in the basin filled with cold water, he gently wiped off the tear stains and drips of sweat lingering on his face and neck. He then lifted his head to spell his hair dry, also spelling the pillowcase dry.

He pulled off the covers on his chest and went into a mental battle. As much as he wanted to see Harry stripped down to his boxers, he knew he certainly would question it if he woke up with different clothes. Fighting the thought, he muttered spells and charms so that his clothes were fresh and crisp, reluctantly not helping him into pajamas.

Draco realized he still had shoes on, so he summoned them- he knew how sweaty one's feet can be after a full-on panic attack. He decided to spell those clean, too.

After Harry was clean and snug in bed, Draco pulled out a vial with a swirling pink liquid. Popping open the cork, he carefully opened Harry's mouth with a slender finger and poured the liquid in, casting a swallowing spell. It would guarantee a quicker recovery.

Finally, he reached for a hot towel and placed it on Harry's forehead. Gathering his things, he left the room.

Instant relief washed over him and he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Harry would be okay.

He went downstairs, suddenly aching for food. After all, he did carry a full-grown man up the stairs.

Draco slumped down on the chair at the dining table and accioed one of the many boxes of frozen meals. Not bothering to check the label, with a wave of his wand, he dug in. He devoured it in what seemed like seconds and hastily cleaned up after himself.

Not wanting to spare a moment, he quickly went back upstairs to check up on Harry. He hadn't awakened, but his expression seemed calmer and more peaceful, his breath even. Sighing contentedly, he magicked a chair beside the bed and just sat there, gazing at him.

Seeing the hot towel had cooled, he pulled it off. Gently, he thumbed over Harry's face. His skin was smooth and soft, though still slightly pale. He traced the outlines of his features, the fine lines of his lips. A thought flashed before him, a thought that had occurred to him millions of times.

His thumb was still gently placed on Harry's bottom lip. He desperately wanted to lean in, but he knew he couldn't. If he ever was to, in a world where everything is possible, kiss him, he wanted it to be... real. He pulled back his hand and sighed.

Draco felt a pang of disappointment, but gazing at his beautiful eyelids and peacefulness, he knew he was content.