Draco gave him a look. Who would want that?
Harry lowered his head. "I like hearing you talk, especially when you're trying to get out of something," Harry murmured and bit his lip, before continuing. "You... haven't been able to use your voice for such a long time, that it's a relief when you do... even when it's just talking back and bickering with me. It makes me happy. I don't want you to... grin and bear it like you had to do for your whole life, Draco."
Draco's mouth popped open a little in shock. All he could do was stare at him.
Harry's eyes were wet, when he whispered. "I want to make you stronger... not just physically. You shouldn't have to suffer in silence... or have people hurt you without you being able to use your voice... for any reason. I want you to use your voice, Draco. I want you to tell me that you're upset or uncomfortable, without fear of reprisal. And I will always give you positive encouragement, though I know you hate it, because I'm pretty sure that no one has given it to you before."
Draco felt some tears fall, and he wiped them away. Damn, he didn't know what to say to that. He nodded and whispered, "Thank you."
Harry nodded. "It seems we both like to hide our pain from each other, but it doesn't really do us any good. So, please don't be worried about telling me what's wrong, and I'll try not to do it, too."
Draco blinked and nodded.
"How are your legs?"
"Still sore... could you...?"
Harry smiled. "Of course, your highness."
"Shut up, minion."
Harry chuckled and then really loosened his sore muscles, while he hummed in relief. Draco definitely mulled over what Harry had said, about using his voice and about not hiding stuff. He hadn't told Harry about what Blaise was doing. He didn't want to get Harry's hopes up, only for it to go nowhere. But wasn't that exactly what Harry had tried to do for him? He hadn't liked it, either, though this time there wasn't really any risk to them, short of dashed hopes.
When Harry finished up his limbs, he took his hand for a small massage. Harry had explained that his hands would need a lot of healing massages to recover from all the abuse that they had endured. He was confident that Draco would have a full recovery, but they would be stiff with arthritis-like pain until they were back up to full strength and dexterity. 
"Better?" Harry asked, though Draco was practically purring.
"It's always better when you're doing this," Draco scoffed.
"Of course, but your legs?"
"Still dead weight... but better, thank you."
Harry sighed. "They're not dead... just... tired."
"Dead tired," Draco snorted and Harry snickered.
"Look... I think... umm... tomorrow... I think that we can try to get you into a wheelchair," Harry said, staring at Draco's hand as he continued to massage it. 
Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. That had come out of nowhere. Harry was nervous, but he was still awkward about Draco taking such steps toward his eventual departure. Draco waited for him to finish.
Harry still wasn't looking at him. "I mean... just for a bit. You can try it for a few hours and even eat sitting up, properly, at a table. You'll get some exercise getting in and out of bed and lifting upward in your chair, and you could try moving the wheels, too. It'll give you some freedom, and I think you'll enjoy it."
Draco swallowed hard. Mobility... real mobility. He hadn't had the ability to move on his own in over five years. He took a shaky breath. "Yeah... I'd like that."