Promises Kept, Hearts Full of Trust

1

We reappeared in a dark and eerily familiar alleyway, our sudden arrival shrouded in a whirlwind of Disapparition.

The surroundings were unmistakable, casting London's Muggle world in a gloomy embrace, the silhouette of Trafalgar Square lurking nearby.

London, Trafalgar Square...

"Gone completely mental, have you?!" I yelled at Draco, my heart still racing from the dizzying sensation of Apparition across such a vast distance, to another world.

I wanted to savour the relief flooding through me at the sight of Draco, but the lingering tension in my body refused to allow it.

The alternative to him had been too terrible to contemplate.

Draco, whose face held an ashen pallor, was an inexperienced Apparator. He'd only completed the course a couple of months ago, and I'd spent those months recovering at St. Mungo's.

The number of risks he had taken by Apparating the both of us were astronomical, and so many things could have gone wrong in our escape.

Nevertheless, despite the lucky odds, we landed in each other's arms, clinging to one another as if the world itself sought to tear us apart.

Being in the blonde his embrace made the world blur into insignificance.

I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his breath against my ear, and for a fleeting moment, all the chaos and danger around us melted away.

But the illusion of safety shattered with a sudden, soft, guttural grunt of pain from Draco, the sound cutting through the darkness like a dagger.

His arms around me loosened, and he stepped back, his face contorting in pain.

My heart clenched as I took a step back to assess him.

"Draco, what's wrong?" I asked urgently, my gaze locked onto his face.

He didn't answer but, it was when he moved his hand to his chest and his suit jacket parted, that I noticed it.

A dark stain was spreading across his black shirt, just above his heart. Soon, another one appeared at the level of his ribs. He grimaced, clutching his chest, and wincing in pain.

"What's happened to you?" I pressed, concern colouring my voice.

"It's...it's nothing." He managed to mutter through gritted teeth, but his lack of colour had worsened, and his attempts to downplay the situation only heightened my anxiety.

"You're hurt." I retorted firmly, my voice shaking with worry.

His head fell back, and he closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing coming in shallow gasps.

"I think some of my scars have been torn back open." He uttered in a tight voice.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of what he had endured to get me out of danger.

"Don't be," he said, his voice strained, shaking his head. "I needed you to be safe. I couldn't...let them...get to you."

I sighed, moving towards him, bringing my wand to his chest and slowly trailing it down to his ribs. "Vulnera Sanentur... Vulnera Sanentur..."

His body relaxed slightly as the spell took effect.

"Better?" I asked, withdrawing my wand.

"Thank you." He answered, his voice hoarse.

"I'll patch you up better when we're somewhere safer," I said, caringly.

"I like the sound of that," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing.