Chapter 37

                                        

                                              
Chapter 37
Published: February 14th, 2022
Draco pressed his legs harder, forced Harry's hands backward, determined to build his strength more. Harry wasn't providing much resistance, just holding his feet in the air. Making his muscles work right was taking longer than he had thought, but Draco focused on the goal at the end of the tunnel. So while Harry feared his release... he was driving toward it, as fast as he could. If he could deal with Azkaban, he could fight through the rehab. It was only sore until Harry gave him a massage at the end.
He knew that Harry's magic was the only reason he was progressing as fast as he was. Harry could heal the small tears and stress from his body essentially hitting muscle failure over and over, again. From his quidditch training, he knew that sore muscles took two to three days to heal, if not longer, but Harry healed it all in seconds. The potions were helping tremendously, too. They were filled with protein and minerals to enhance and promote growth.
But it still was a lot of pain at the moment and actively pushing past it. In Azkaban, he just had to endure, but now it was about not giving up. He just had to look at Harry, and his smile, whenever he broke through a plateau to keep pushing forward. Draco didn't rank or track his failures (or successes as Harry liked to call them) as he didn't see the importance of most of the exercises. He was currently pushing Harry's hands backward in a "leg press" exercise.
"You can go further, Draco... push!"
Draco resisted the urge to snap back. It was difficult to make his muscles move in that way, much less press the limits of his strength, too. Harry was still a bit sensitive, too, even though it had been three days since... that day. They had just fallen back into their regular routine after that hard talk that they had that night. Reporters were now a frequent security threat, though restricted officially to the lobby and cafeteria. Some were able to slip past security, posing as visitors or even patients. Draco had a feeling that Higgs was assisting them, too. 
Just wait, he told himself, and he pushed his legs harder, earning another smile from Harry. His legs were shaking from that effort, and Harry slowly set his legs down on the mattress.
"That was great, Draco," he said.
Draco, again, refrained from swearing at him. Harry didn't need abuse from him, though he hated the pep talk. What he enjoyed was the sappy, happy look on his face, not the unintentional condescension afterward.
"You haven't been complaining as much," Harry said, massaging his now sore and achy legs.
"You don't deserve that abuse," Draco muttered.
Harry's eyes locked with his. "I do want you to tell me your limits, Draco."
"I don't have limits, Pottah," he drawled, getting another big grin from Harry for a second, before he grimaced, again.
"You haven't been doing it since..." Harry broke off and didn't finish the sentence. They both knew when.
"I don't want to... make it uncomfortable for you."
Harry nodded, hitting a pretty sore spot in his hamstring, and Draco groaned in relief. "You don't have to... keep quiet."
"I shouldn't blame you, either, when you're helping me."
Harry looked at him. "You're not really blaming me, Draco. You're blaming yourself, your muscles and the people who did this to you."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Maybe... but I'm directing it at you."
Harry stopped and took a seat in his rolly chair, going next to him. "Draco... I'm a healer. I know that. I want you to complain... to yell at me for annoying you, or how much you hate the exercises."