It was finally over.

Voldemort was dead. Draco didn't really come back completely unharmed - he was a little mentally scarred and had the occasional bruise, scratch and of course those damn burns, but he was okay.

That was all I needed.

"It's over," Draco breathed for the millionth time that night. We lay there in comfortable, warm clothing, legs entangled, looking up at the ceiling.

"It's over," I repeated, gripping his hand in my own under the sheets.

He turned to face me.

"After all this time," he whispered softly, "I'm still as in love with you as I was when I first realised it. I really don't know how we managed to get through all of this."

"Because we love each other," I replied, squeezing his fingers between my own with a smile.

"We're so mushy. It's gross," Draco told me, his infamous smirk reappearing on his lips. I grinned.

"That's my Draco," I teased, pulling him closer to me.

"At least we're here - in the manor together. Your mum is welcome to move in here, too."

"Move in here? Too?"

"You're staying, aren't you?"

I stared at Draco in shock, "You want me to stay here? Permanently?"

"Are you stupid?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows, "You're my wife. Of course I do."

"Does Narcissa mind-"

"Of course she doesn't," he cut me off. "Seriously, Eve. There's a place for you here, and your mum."

I nodded excitedly, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

My moment of joy was interrupted when Draco embraced me, burying his head into the crook of my neck. I felt something wet drip down my chest and I realised Draco was crying.

"I just don't ever want to be apart from you again," he whimpered.

I kissed his forehead softly, "And you'll never have to be."

He looked up at me and kissed my lips gently, "I hope not."