Draco was taken to the Hospital Wing as soon as they returned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore trusted Harry to take him there, as himself as Snape needed to take Lucius to the nearest person that'd be able to escort him to Azkaban. From there, Draco assumed a trial would take place to determine whether he should be given the Dementor's Kiss. Though he didn't see why they had to; his father had escaped from Azkaban, was in contact with students at this school, and had raped his own son. What he deserved was a slow and painful death.

"Draco.. did he do anything else to you?" Harry asked softly. His arm was still wrapped around the boy's waist, leading the slow-moving Slytherin toward the infirmary.

Draco sighed lightly, looking down so that strands of hair were able to hide his guilty expression. He was sure that if he hadn't looked so depressed, or had said he loved Harry, he wouldn't have gotten hurt to begin with. But he had done those things, and to prevent those hits from becoming another rape attempt, he'd done something that was just as close...

"Just hit me a few times," Draco muttered.

Harry closed his eyes then, willing himself not to say that he should've been there, even though he knew he really should have. "I'm sorry, Draco." He paused for more than a moment. "But nothing else?" He asked worriedly. Draco knew Harry was thinking of the way he'd caught them kissing when he returned.

"Nothing else..." Draco stopped, wanting to explain himself, but not knowing how to. He felt like if he ended up telling Harry what he did, the boy would be too disgusted with him. There were sure to have been other ways to get his father's wand, but that was the only one he'd been able to think of.

Harry looked questioning, glancing at Draco with nervous eyes. He felt unsure of what to do or say next. Since all of this had happened, he wondered how they were even managing to speak to eachother. He had so many things to ask.

"... well, I asked him to kiss me so that I could get his wand. That's why it looked the way it did... but h-he didn't do anything to me." Draco bit his lip.

There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke up again.

"It's good that he didn't."

Draco nodded lightly, and that's when they reached the infirmary doors. Harry opened one of them, and they made their way through. Madam Pomfrey rushed over almost instantly, her eyes wide and her face looking pale. She seemed informed of the situation, which would explain her being close to the doors when they entered.

"Mr. Malfoy! In bed, now!"

He listened, though was reluctant to leave Harry. He felt better when he was with the boy, as if nothing else could happen to him. And the Gryffindor managed to make one simple touch feel like the most comforting he'd ever received. "Can Harry stay?" Draco asked the nurse quietly.

Her eyes went to Harry, seeming to notice him for the first time. "Yes, yes, you can stay, but Mr. Malfoy has to stay still." She disappeared into her office, gathering up what Draco was sure to be about six different vials of potions.

And as Draco settled himself on the bed, he noticed how uneasy the atmosphere seemed to be. It was quiet, and Harry didn't have his eyes on him; they were secured on the floor. The Gryffindor had made his way over to his bedside, however.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco whispered. He thought the boy was angry with him. Angry for the way he'd insisted to stay so that Harry wouldn't get hurt.

"What're you sorry for?" The boy questioned. He looked up, surprised. He hadn't expected to hear that from Draco; he hadn't done anything wrong. And they were safe now... things had worked out even when they knew the chances were low.

Draco could feel himself on the brink of crying again, but he held it back, frowning. "For bringing you into this. I didn't want you to get hurt and have to see my father. I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Listen, I wanted to help you, remember? I said so and I'm glad everything's over."

The Slytherin nodded again, not able to speak up and say something as a response. He didn't know what to say, really. All he wanted was for everything to be okay between himself and Harry again; he didn't like feeling this awkward around him.

But then again, his father had completely ruined most of the relationship he had gained with Harry, and now he felt like utter bloody hell laying in this hospital bed.

At least three minutes later, when Draco was wondering exactly when the nurse might be returning with the tray of potions, Harry spoke up. Draco barely heard him.

"Did you mean what you said to me?"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, confused. "What do you mean?"

Harry appeared to take in a small breath, as if trying to gather up the courage to ask. His fingers gripped lightly onto the bed sheets, his eyes locked there as well. "When you said that you loved me."

"Oh," Draco said shortly, softly. He shifted a bit nervously on the bed. "Yes, I meant it."

There was more silence, and Draco thought Harry was going to leave. Maybe to go back to his common room and try and get some rest himself. But he didn't.

"I do too," he said quietly.

"You love yourself?" Draco asked quietly. It caused him to smile for the first time in what felt like days. He saw that a smile crept onto Harry's face as well.

"No," he said, his eyes darting up to meet Draco's. They showed slight amusement and nervousness. "You, and I'm sure you're the only one who could joke at a time like this."

Draco's smile remained, and it was true, he was glad that he'd given Harry that small tease. It made him feel better, and for a while, it kept his mind off of everything else. And nothing made him feel better than hearing Harry say he loved him back. "It's good that one of us can. I was growing depressed with your lack of talking."

"God, Draco, after all of this..." Harry shook his head, still showing a remainder of that smile. "You're amazing."

"I know," Draco replied contentedly. His head turned when he heard the door to the nurse's office open. Sure enough, Madam Pomfrey was balancing what looked like enough medicine to feed one class.

"Kiss me now," Draco suddenly said. His gaze moved back to Harry, and he saw the boy look up, that blush creeping onto his face. That ever so innocent blush.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, before she gets here. I miss the feeling... and I doubt you'll like the taste of those potions once I choke them all down."

"Okay." Harry bit his lip, and when he proceeded to linger for a bit longer, Draco made the move himself. He sat up in the bed, leaning forward so that his lips pressed softly against Harry's. His hand lifted to rest against the boy's chest; his eyes fluttered closed.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with a start. He didn't know how much closer she was, but he didn't much care either.

He was too busy thinking, relishing in the fact that he was kissing the boy that had saved him, just like he'd promised, even when Draco was doubtful of it. Harry was the boy he knew he'd fallen in love with, no matter how absurd it seemed. The moment was perfect.

This is what he always wished the wizarding world to be like.