A Hand is Not a Heart

Care for Her

She woke up with a worse pounding in her head than yesterday evening. Perhaps that was her own doing by dragging herself across the dungeon floor in the middle of the night. She looked to her right, her husband was gone. Her eyes roamed around the room until they landed on the nightstand to her left. There was food, her wand, and a note on the it. She reached for the note and unfolded the parchment. It read:

Good morning,

Don't even think about leaving bed on your own today.
If you need my help, simply send your patronus to me and I'll be there.
There are books for you to read on the table.

S.S.

Even though the tone of the note felt passive aggressive, she hoped this was his way of showing that he cared. The food he left her was a perfectly prepared english breakfast. It smelled absolutely delicious. It was at that moment she realised how little she had eaten the day before. Her stomach rumbled. As she ate her breakfast, she wondered whether or not her husband had made it. He could've gotten it from the kitchen elves. But it tasted better than the food at Hogwarts normally did.

For the sake of her concussion, she went back to sleep after breakfast. She figured her body would need loads of rest and her mind was glad to have a break as well.

On the fifth day of her mandatory bed rest, her husband woke her up in the afternoon. "Time for some fresh air." He whispered, his fingers gently brushing some hairs out of her face.

Her eyes opened lazily. Her mind was foggy as she felt a soft touch on her forehead. "Can I walk yet?" She mumbled hazily as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

Her husband chuckled. Her heart jumped excitedly at the sound. "The healing process does not depend on the frequency of you asking that." He responded. "So no."

Their eyes met as she pushed herself up against the headboard. Her nails scratched her nose as she felt a tickle in her throat. Her nose had been itching for a while now but the second side effect had yet to show. That time was now. She couldn't keep it in. It felt like a sneeze. The longer she waited to cough, the more sore her throat became. She had to scratch the annoying tickle in the back of her throat. It couldn't be stopped. Billions of silvery speckles of glitter erupted from her mouth. For a few moments it was as if shimmery rain was drizzling down in her husband's bedroom.

The bed was covered in glitter. Her anxious eyes landed on her husband. He definitely couldn't be called the brooding dungeon bat right now. He looked more like a moody unicorn at the moment. Glitter was everywhere. It was in his hair, his eyebrows, on top of his nose, on his shoulders, on his hands, and legs. He looked very unhappy.

She looked at him with horrified eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-... I didn't know..."

Without saying a word, he grabbed his wand and made everything vanish. Then he transfigured one of his shirts into a little pouch. He handed the black bag to her. "Use this next time." He added.

Her eyes darted between him and the bag in her hands. "Thank you." She whispered.

He gave her a curt nod before getting up to reveal the wheelchair he brought. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him next to it. Surely, he wouldn't want to be seen with her in a wheelchair? His fingers grabbed onto the sheets and started peeling them off her body. She was still in her nightgown. His arms reached for her body. He had held her often these last few days. Romance was out of the question with all of her trips to the bathroom but still, it was so intimate. Every time he lifted her up, she experienced it in slow motion. The way his fingers curled around her side and pressed into her thigh. How he lifted her up from his soft mattress only to be pressed against his chest. She revelled in the feeling of being in his arms.