Chapter 11
Closure
When Harry awoke, he found he could not open his eyes, nor move his limbs. His first thought was, Paralysis? But after he found that he could move his fingers and toes, and also his neck and feet, he ruled out the possibility and blamed it on pure deep sleep.
Where am I? he wondered Harry's eyes were still being stubbornly lazy, so he felt what was beneath him with his fingertips. Soft cotton sheets and a wool comforter. Smiling a little, he found that he was awake enough to open his eyes now. The first thing he saw was a blurry Dumbledore, standing over his bed and apparently smiling at him.
"Professor?" Harry asked, groping for his glasses and sliding them on. "Where are we?"
"We're at the Romanian Medical Center. We were supposed to be back in London now, but far too many people were injured, so we're staying here until everything's sorted out." He explained breezily.
"Where's the Dursleys, and where's – oh my God, sir, where is Draco?" Harry exclaimed, sitting upright. Dumbledore gently pushed him back down into the mass of pillows.
"Draco is fine, Harry. He is being treated for a mild concussion as of now. And you, Harry. You're lucky you didn't die. That nasty wound on your back almost turned gangrenous. How did you acquire, that, anyways?" Dumbledore peered at him.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Dudley through me into a potted plant…" He murmured, blushing. Dumbledore didn't seem to take any notice of his embarrassment. "What happened to him, anyways? He and Uncle Vernon?"
Dumbledore immediately looked uncomfortable. Despite all the feelings of hated and loathing that he had always associated with the Dursleys, his heart sank when he saw the look on Dumbledore's face.
He sighed. "Dudley recovered his father's gun, shot Vernon, and them himself. We arrived too late to save them, so we buried them beside Petunia near the lake. I'm very sorry, Harry."
Harry's face felt very hot all of a sudden. He found that he didn't want to talk about the Dursleys anymore. "Were there any other fatalities, sir?"
"Luckily, no. Not on our side, anyways. Plenty of Death Eaters died…Narcissa, McNair, Bellatrix, Nott, Ivory, Lucius –"
"But not Lord Voldemort himself?"
Dumbledore sighed again. "No. No, we did not manage to kill Lord Voldemort. But we have significantly weakened his forces. And I want you to know, Harry, I am proud of you for fighting as best you could. You and Draco both."
"Thanks." Harry mumbled. "Um, sir, is it alright if I go to see Draco?"
"I think that he's asleep, but yes, I'm sure that's quite alright." Dumbledore smiled encouragingly, and Harry, smiling back, went on his way. Suddenly, he realized he didn't know where Draco was. He went immediately back towards his room.
"Sir, do you –"
"Room 108, Harry."
"Thanks."
Harry set off again, grinning. He found Draco's room in about a minute; he was pleased to discover that it was not too far away from his own. He walked in to a pleasant surprise; Draco was awake.
"Draco," Harry said. He bent down and placed a passionate kiss on his lips, then ran his hand down the side of Draco's soft face. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine." He drawled. "Very minor concussion. What about you?"
"Just this stupid cut on my back, but I'll be okay too. I just can't believe…your parents are dead."
Draco's expression didn't change. "Yes, well. I'm quite relieved. Now I have Malfoy Manor all to myself. Although, I suspect it will get quite lonely…" He looked pointedly at Harry, who merely grinned.
"Are you inviting me to stay with you for the summer?" He asked, playing with Draco's fingers.
"I'm inviting you to stay as long as you wish." Draco smiled.
Harry sat in stunned, rapturous silence. "As long as I wish." He repeated to himself.
As long as I wish.
