Risen- Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 33

—Draco POV—

"Draco?"

"Hm?"

Holding Harry is probably one of my favorite things to do when I'm in bed, hearing his breathing, feeling his heartbeat against my chest, playing with his hair. There's just something about it that calms me, and tonight particularly; I did not feel quite calm enough to sleep. All I could do was stare at the blank wall beside me as I held Harry, who, it seems, couldn't sleep either.

"What if this is a lot worse than we thought?" I stopped playing with his hair, properly taken aback by his thoughts, which were similar to mine at the moment. I resumed as soon as I realized it, knowing that it relaxes him. He spoke again upon becoming aware that I wouldn't answer right away.

"What if... the war... what if it never really ended?" He gently removed himself from my hold, shifting in his spot to look at me. I laid on my back, ready for him to rest his head on me if he wished. "What if that last battle was just another battle? What if it never ended?"

I blinked, looking into his forest colored eyes, catching a glimpse of his scar, observing as he squinted slightly, like he always does without his glasses.

"You defeated him; you killed him. Voldemort is gone." There was a silence that ensued, and it was clear we both wanted to believe that statement, but were in no place to fully do so, despite everything in our favor. "And I have proof, too," I began. "Your scar... it hasn't hurt once since the war, has it?"

Harry shook his head. "It hasn't..."

"Do you want another piece of evidence? My mark. It can't exist without him; that's why it's only a jumble of scars now," I explained softly.

"Can I... can I see it?" He asked, mumbling, whispering. I shifted, raising my left arm and carefully folding the sleeve up. Slowly, my scars became exposed to the cold air conditioning of the hotel room, giving me goosebumps.

"Harry slowly raised his hand to my forearm, brushing tentative and unsteady fingers to the unpleasant patch of raised skin that was a jumble of discolored and permanent scars. I let him feel them.

"This happened to you as soon as he died, you once said." Harry's voice was hollow and fragile.

"Yes. That's why I know he's gone," I confirmed. "After all, what is an evil mark without its overlord?" I chuckled slightly.

"It hurt?"

"Yes."

He changed from brushing the pads of his fingers against it, to holding my arm lightly.

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. You freed me." He dropped his hand, turning to face me. I did the same. We caught each other's gaze, before he brought his hand to cup my face, taking us into a kiss. It was gentle, almost innocent. When we let go, I brought my hand to his, which was still around my face, and squeezed three times softly. He responded by rubbing his thumb against my cheek.

"I promise, Harry. No matter what lies ahead of us, it's not him. He's gone. You defeated him. You won."

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—Harry POV—

"Shouldn't we go home if we have nothing left to research?" The seven of us were sat at the table, eating breakfast, and it was becoming difficult to believe that there was anything left to do for this trip."

"We need to start up a documentation of what we discovered and what we can infer off of that. It's going to include book details and how it ties into the amusement park as well as the actual Wizarding World," Hermione responded.