Disclaimer: The fast-talking legalese man says this story is based on characters and situations that fall within the domain of JKR's copyright and those of other legal holders, so I guess that means in affirming that statement no one's going to come after me for my paltry bank accounts, right?

Warnings: HPDM Slash! Pompous Windbags and Sappiness ahead…

A/N: I have had such phenomenal feedback with this story I almost can't believe it. I really want to thank everyone who's reviewed. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed getting back to writing. My muse is back and the bunnies are breeding yet again so I hope to have new story or a chapter or two of an older story ready soon! Thank you!

Road to Recovery

Epilogue

"You look lovely, Bookworm," Draco smiled as Hermione twirled in her cornflower blue evening gown.

"Thank you. You were right, it's a great colour on me and Ron both. Have you seen him in the dress robes I picked up?"

Draco shook his head snickering, "I haven't. I'm sure he looks fine, though you'd best not let him hear that I was the one who suggested them when we were out shopping."

She rolled her eyes, "I know. I know. He's still such a prat about it. Oh look there's Harry with Miss Gregory!" she pointed excitedly. "They both look wonderful. You should be proud, Draco."

He smiled and followed her extended fingers through the hotel's grand ballroom. Melissa Gregory did look absolutely beautiful. The girl glowed with vitality. Her cheeks were pink with health and laughter, the sable locks falling to her shoulders in curly waves were thick and lustrous, she stood straight and tall, no evidence of the ravages her body had endured. It was hard to believe that nearly two years ago she'd been so sick, her thin skin had hung from her tiny wasted frame, and what little hair she had was dry, brittle, and incredibly thin, much of it having fallen out leaving patches of her scalp exposed. Now she was healthy, and had been without any signs of the virus returning for a whole year.

Draco had pronounced her officially cured earlier in the week. And he was proud that his hard work and willingness to look for non-traditional treatments had had such a positive result. Not only for Melissa, but for several other witches and wizards who'd contracted the virus. But mostly, he was proud of Melissa, for never giving up hope, for fighting for herself, and believing in him. He beamed widely at his charge and his lover.

"I am proud--of them, Hermione. They're the ones who did all the really hard work." He gaze softened as he admired the man laughing at something Melissa said. Tall, and well-formed, he filled out his green trimmed black robes, deliciously. His tanned skin, glowing under the prismatic chandeliers, his green eyes, jewel-bright and sparkling. Harry was a vision. It had been a long road for Harry as well, healing from his rape and earlier childhood abuse, recovering from his resultant alcoholism.

He and Draco had gone slowly but surely, each determined not to lose the other as they worked through wounds from their own individual pasts and build a life together. It hadn't been easy, flashbacks, and anger, frustration, shame, and guilt had to be worked through, understood, and dispersed. Needing safety had meant Harry had isolated himself for a while, becoming too dependent on Draco to be his shield from the outside world. Solving the problem of total social withdrawal and co-dependency had been some of the most difficult months in the last years. Eventually though Harry had reached out to his friends, who reached back enthusiastically, lovingly, and gently, letting Harry set the pace of their healing relationships so as not to be too overwhelmed.

He'd regained his physical health much sooner than his emotional equilibrium, and started working out at a Muggle gym. Kickboxing gave him a healthy outlet for some of his aggression, particularly when he'd had to deal with a few overly arrogant and insensitive students at the Auror academy, where he was now an instructor. It also gave him a musculature that was the envy of nearly every wizard in the room and had drawn more than a few appreciative looks from witches and wizards alike.

Draco smiled when Harry caught his eye and beckoned him over. He kissed Hermione's cheek who giggled and mentioned something about the temperature in the room having shot up, then made his way over.

Harry slipped him arm around Draco slender waist and drew him closer when he'd reached the pair. "You're the man of the hour, you can't hide in a corner with Mione all night" he teased in greeting and kissed Draco's cheek gently.

The healer smirked, "I most certainly am not. Malfoys don't hide behind women. And besides none of these pompous windbags or simpering sycophants are here to brush elbows with me, they're here in hopes that miracle girl will touch them and grace them with good health." He winked at his young patient, "Honestly, Harry. Haven't you seen them rubbing on Melissa like she's a good luck charm all evening."

Harry laughed, his eyes glittering, "They have, but we've set them straight. It seems most are too intimidated by the beefy Saviour of the Wizarding world to approach her while we're together. So she's going to stick with me until her dad makes the presentation."

Draco smiled, "Oh I see, throwing your reputation around again. Some things never change, Potter. And you," he wagged a teasing finger at the thirteen-year-old. You should know better than to associate with a man willing to do such a thing."

Melissa giggled, her dark curls bouncing. "I'm not hiding behind his reputation, Healer Draco, just his bulk!"

Draco laughed, tossing his head back to show pearly teeth, and the long line of his neck. Harry swooped in and placed a kiss at its centre. Which made Melissa giggle harder. When he'd calmed he'd sent Harry a warning glare.

"I couldn't help myself," his lover shrugged. "You have the most alluring neck."

Draco raised a brow, a small smile played against his lips. "Behave, Harry, young impressionable children are present."

The broader man was about to respond when Melissa's father, Pomponius Gregory, a wealthy businessman who'd left his wife and daughter penniless early during Melissa's illness and returned to reconcile with his family, once the success of the treatments made international news, sidled up and draped his fleshy arm over his daughter's shoulders. "I'll be making the presentation now. Melissa, come with me. You too Marco. Director Chetford and Healer Jaggedhease will surely want you in the pictures.

Inwardly Draco cringed at the Mr. Gregory's butchering of his boss' name. But tactfully he said nothing as the inscrutable Malfoy mask fell into place. Cordial but cool, he nodded and gracefully slipped a tense and uncomfortable Melissa from under her father's arm, placing her hand on his crooked elbow. "I would be honoured to escort you and Miss Gregory to the presentation stage, Mr. Gregory."

Harry followed with narrowed eyes, as the sweaty, priggish little man, puffed out his chest and attempted to suck in his protruding belly. He'd grown fond of Melissa and her shy, quiet mother, Margaret. It rankled that this cowardly self-interested excuse of a man would use Melissa's recovery to launch himself as a "man dedicated to family and the future," in hopes of developing enough of a public following for a successful political career.

They reached the base of the stage, and Draco introduced Melissa to the officials from St. Mungo's gathered there. "Melissa, my supervisor, Healer Jagadheesan. She's Head Healer at the Wellness and Family Care Clinic. And this gentleman is Director Chetford who runs all of St. Mungo's."

Melissa dropped a small curtsey, "It's nice to meet you."

Healer Jagadheesan, a cheerful and intuitive woman, smiled kindly, her brown eyes warm and friendly. "It's nice to finally meet you as well, Melissa. Though I've heard so much about you from Draco and Muriel. I feel like I know you already."

Melissa smiled, "They talk a lot. I hope they said good things."

"Of course, they said good things," her father said smoothly, his unctuous voice dripping slimy sincerity, "who wouldn't about such a sweet and cherubic little girl like you."

Healer Jagadheesan subtly raised her brow, an expression that only Draco and Harry caught. Clearly she was unimpressed and Draco was again reminded how well his boss understood people and why he was glad to be working for her. Harry sniggered slightly and Draco gently elbowed him in the stomach, before he could break out chuckling. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Healer Jagadheesan, who rolled her eyes and smiled genuinely at them both, before removing Melissa from her father's posturing. "Let's start the presentation shall we?"

The presentation was much longer than it needed to be, but of course Pomponius Gregory wasn't about to let this press-opportunity pass him by. With a script that read as though it had been penned by Rita Skeeter, he went on about his daughter's 'desperate struggle against this nefarious disease,' and their family being shaken by the poor prognosis given by her healers. He blathered about his endless search for the best available medical resources and the pain of being separated from his wife and ailing daughter while on his quest. Harry couldn't help but snort at that, though he covered with a cough and an apologetic look at Draco. Finally he thanked Director Chetford for making St. Mungo's 'a place of hope and healing.' He also thanked Healer Jagadheesan, though he mangled her name again, and the dedicated staff of the Wellness and Family Care Clinic, including "Marco Dralfory, whose creative application of healing techniques saved my precious little girl." He pulled out a handkerchief with a flourish and dabbed at his dry eyes. There was a snickering through the crowd, but people settled down soon enough when Director Chetford cleared his throat firmly and gave his own speech in response. Finally, Mr. Gregory handed over an enlarged cheque made out to St. Mungo's for the establishment of the Gregory Experimental Medicine and Holistic Healing ward. Everyone on the stage was shoved closer as photographers from The Prophet and other media outlets snapped dozens of pictures. Finally Melissa was bundled off to the small flat where she and her mother been living since Pomponius had ejected them from their suburban home.

"It's long past her bedtime you know," her quiet mother who'd avoided the evening's spotlight, said as she excused them. Pomponius, of course, would stay to schmooze before retiring to the large manor house he'd purchased on his return from his "quest to save Melissa" though he hadn't yet convinced his wife or daughter to reside there, and if Draco had his way, the slick politician never would.

"That odious little man, I should--" Draco fumed until Harry stopped his mouth with a long and passionate kiss.

"He is. And you should. But you won't because it wouldn't befit the Head Healer of the Experimental Medicine and Holistic Healing ward would it?" Harry smiled when they'd surfaced.

I suppose not. He glowered at the crowd that had formed around Mr. Gregory and Director Chetford. He huffed out a breath, "One little hex, Harry…"

His lover smiled, "No. C'mon. The night's still young and I have plans for you."

Draco's brow raised, "Do you now, Potter?"

Harry pecked his cheek, "I do. And none of them involve pompous men with delusions of grandeur." Entwining their fingers, Harry pulled them to the ballroom's exit.

Hours later, they were sleepy, sweaty, sated and tangled in each other's arms. "You deserve this you know. You're an excellent healer," Harry murmured against Draco's sex-flushed skin.

Draco chuckled as Harry brushed damp stands of hair away from his face. "Thank you, but you just shagged my brains out, you expect me to make conversation about work now?"

He felt Harry smile against his neck. "No. I was just thinking about it. I'm proud of you, Angel" he said solemnly, losing his smile.

Draco pulled back, stoking his hand down Harry's heavily-muscled arm, "Harry? What is it?"

"You saved Melissa, you healed me--"

"You healed you." Draco said firmly. He snuggled down to press a kiss against Harry's golden chest.

"I wouldn't have if not you Angel. You saved me." Harry insisted, carding his hands though Draco's fine white blond hair.

"I didn't save you Harry. You worked hard to be healthy on your own."

He huffed as Draco trailed his long fine boned fingers, his steady healing hands, over Harry's shoulders. "Fine, we healed me together. We did it together."

"Together," Draco agreed, as a familiar heat rose in him, rapidly burning away his earlier languidness.

"Together forever, Draco? Really and truly forever?" Harry asked, and just that suddenly the heat in Draco was banked.

He sat up and narrowed his eyes at the quiet uncertainty in Harry's voice. "What are you asking me?"

Harry linked their hands and gazed on them studiously. He spoke quietly into the rising silence between them. "Marry me."

"Wha-Harry!"

Harry raised his face, "I'm serious, Angel, never been more serious about anything in my life. I want you to marry me. Be mine forever."

"You're serious." Draco repeated, but not because he doubted his lover's sincerity. He could see Harry's longing, his vulnerability, how desperately he wanted this in his deep soulful eyes.

"Yes, I am."

Draco smiled slowly, holing Harry's gaze with his own and letting all that he was be seen there, offering it all to his lover, his friend, his partner, his survivor, his Harry. "Then yes, I will."

End.