The War | The Sister Book #4 | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Five

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"You look like hell."

I smile softly at him, "You have no idea."

He frowns at my face and hair, running a finger over my cheek and letting out a breath. "You need a bath."

He squeezes my hand, walking down the small hallway, passed the first door and into the second. The house, despite being tiny on the outside, has a decent sized interior. The hallway leads to an open plan living space, with a small kitchen on the right and a leather couch facing a large fireplace. Behind it, before the kitchen, is a small dining table. Across the room is a staircase that leads to the second floor.

I glance to my left, to where Draco stands in the bathroom, eyeing me as the bath begins to fill. The bathroom walls are a white tile, and the floor is a dark stone. Directly across from the door is a sink with a tall mirror above it, stretched up to the high ceiling, with an ornate silver border. The sink itself has a tall, twisted silver tap and is on top of a white cabinet. To the right of the sink, between it and the wall, is a claw foot bath. One the floor in front of it is a small, elaborate green and grey rug. At the end of the bath is a shower, and on the other side of the door sits an armchair with a deep green cushion. To the left of the sink is the toilet. I limp over to where Draco stands, and he frowns, 

"What-"

"Long story," I say quickly, I open my mouth to speak, to tell him how much I've missed him, how many times I've cried, but I can't find the words.  

I stare at him. His suit is neat, entirely black, a stark contrast to his skin. His eyes, the same stormy grey, watch me, burning with thousands of questions, but he remains silent. The only sound in the room is the bath filling. As he takes in my appearance, the corner of his mouth curls upwards slightly.

"That's my sweater." He says quietly. 

I falter, "Yeah, I've been wearing it-" I mumble, glancing down at my hands, hidden by long sleeves. I look up, frowning when I see a tray of makeup next to the mirror, "What's that for? Are you a drag queen now?"

I'm trying very hard to keep panic from settling in. Surely he hasn't moved on, surely he-

"Oh fuck I- Clara, you see, um-" He winces, "My mother, she's set this whole place up as a sort of romantic destination for me and any prospective partners, so she went and bought all this, er, stuff, to make them feel at home..."

I stare at the floor, my voice wobbles when I speak more than I expected it to, "Draco, it's okay if you-"

"No!" His hands cup my face, lifting my chin and making eye contact, "All I've thought about, for months, is you. Your smile, your laugh, and when I thought of your face, all I saw was you lying there on the cobblestone, half dead." He takes a breath, "My mother wants me to marry young and give her grandchildren, but I couldn't look at any of her candidates because I still love you..."

I sniff, smiling, "I love you too." 

We stare at each other for a moment, the only sound is the rush of running water and our breathing. He smiles,

"Well, if you need any, thanks to mother I have quite the impressive supply of er, period products," 

I shake my head, "Nah, finished mine a few days ago, actually."

He smiles, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me to his chest, kissing the top of my head. He glances to the bath, almost completely full of warm water, steam rising from the surface, and sucks in a breath, quickly turning off the tap. He glances at me.  I'm surprised by how calm he is, not at all as sheepish as the boy I first met all those years ago. He nods at my clothes, walking over to me, and trying to get past.

"I'll let you get-"

"No," I say quickly, and he looks up. My throat is dry. I don't want him to go. I don't know how long I'll have with him. I want him to stay. "Stay,"

He nods, slipping off his blazer and tossing it onto the chair by the door. I slip off my raincoat, then hook my fingers under the hem of my sweater and shirt, pulling them over my head, leaving me only in a bra. I drop them behind me as I undo my jeans. Draco picks up my pile of clothes and starting to fold them. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror opposite me, seeing how thin I am. How pale. The bruises and scars that litter my skin. I unbutton my jeans, peeling them off and wincing as I see the bruises that have formed along my scar. I take off my boots and socks, leaving me in just my underwear.

Draco stares at my leg, and I glance at him. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to-"

"Yes, stay," I answer, reaching a hand up and squeezing his. He nods.

I quickly undo my bra, then slip my underwear off, not making eye contact as I step into the bath. I ignore the burning of the hot water, sinking down and letting out a sigh as my hands start to thaw. Draco stays frozen near the door, my clothes bundled in his arms. I start to clean my face, watching as dirt starts fogging the water. 

"You're so thin," He murmurs,

I glance down at myself and wince. I look ill. I turn slightly in the bath, holding a hand out towards him. He smiles softly, walking over and sitting down on the bath mat so our faces are level. He takes it and presses a kiss into it. He glances at me through the slightly cloudy water.

"I don't like you being this thin. You look-"

"Ill, I know."