Despite his tiredness, his face lights up when he sees me. Despite being weary, torn and bleeding, he tries to stand upright when he sees me coming. I lead him down to his chambers in the dungeons and I always do my best to heal his wounds, in complete silence. Nothing needs to be said while I clean the wounds inflicted bythatbastards's curses. Nothing needs to be said before hefall asleep after I'm finished. He takes my hand as I lay down beside him. "I love you", he whispers with a soft smile. Or is it imagination?
A/N: I never fancied 100 word drabbles too much, but at last I've decided to give it a try (basically because of a very stressful life that doesn't allow me the time to write on my other fics).
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Sabina, 'cause it's about her and not Hermione. I'm sorry to say that I have not translated my story about Sabina to English yet. So if you wish to, I guessyou could just imagine it's Hermione. Besides, it doesen't quite follow that story of mine, either.
Gods, longer disclaimer and author's note than the story itself. Where's the world going?