Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Say It with Flowers	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8403 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Author's note: This chapter kind of ran away with me *coughs* It's quite a bit longer than the previous two which is why it took me until now to finish it. Thank you so much for the reviews!
Thanks to the following reviewers: djaddict; ANON; SP777
Warnings: Hm, mention of a fight, though not explicit; emotional Christmas scene; fluff? I guess; Harry being rather blasé overall; time skips
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 3 Purple Lilac and Peony
"Still meeting up with Malfoy?" Hermione asked apprehensively, her hands wrapped around her mug of hot chocolate.
The Three Broomsticks was filled to the brim with Hogwarts students enjoying their first weekend away from school. Every seat was taken and there were even extra chairs conjured; glasses filled with drinks floated through the air and landed in front of the customers. Laughter filled the air, together with the loud chattering of the students.
"Bah," Teddy muttered, smacking a tiny fist on the table. He was sitting on Harry's lap, leaning back against the young man's stomach and his dark blue eyes swivelled back and forth in wonder. So far he seemed more entranced by the ruckus than bothered by it.
"Yes, I am," Harry answered calmly, smiling down at Teddy when the baby slapped both hands on the table.
Ginny frowned; the corners of her mouth pulled down in displeasure. "If you're that bored, you can just join us in the common room. Or stay at mum's place; you know she loves to have you over."
He sighed; annoyance flaring up briefly at having to go through this argument again. "I'm not bored, Ginny," he said resolutely, grabbing Teddy's fists and keeping them loosely in his own hands so that the boy wouldn't hurt himself. "I like hanging out with Draco. He's become a good friend."
An incredulous chuckle left her glossy lips. "Have you forgotten whose side he was on during the war?"
"We're just worried, mate," Ron added; a deep frown etched into his forehead as he shifted his half empty glass of Butterbeer back and forth between his hands. "What if Malfoy is planning something?"
"Like what?" Harry asked exasperatedly. "Seriously what could he be planning? It's not like Voldemort is still around to hand me over to him! And may I remind you of the fact that Draco refused to hand us over when we were caught?"
Hermione winced and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "We just worry, Harry," she said softly and worried her lower lip between her teeth. "You and Malfoy have always gone at it like cats and dogs, so it's weird that you're suddenly friends now."
"Not that weird," Harry said contemplatively, stroking Teddy's fists softly. "He wanted to be friends when we met on the train but I refused. Then with the Sorting Hat – we were practically dropped into being rivals. Neither of us are blameless; we all made mistakes. But he made the first step and I'm tired of fighting, 'Mione. So yeah, I gave him a chance and so far he hasn't done anything yet to make me regret that."
"His father gave me Riddle's diary on purpose!" Ginny hissed; her brown eyes flashing with fury.
Teddy started fussing, his lower lip trembling, obviously startled by the vicious sound. Harry frowned and turned him around so that his head rested against Harry's shoulder. He pressed a kiss on Teddy's forehead and rubbed soothingly over his back.
"It's okay, Teddy," he muttered and the six month old baby quietened down a bit. As soon as he was certain that Teddy wouldn't start crying he looked up again. "Exactly, the one who gave you the diary was his father, not Draco himself. There's no point in blaming him for something his father did!"
"As if Malfoy is innocent!" she sneered; her fingers tightening around her glass of Butterbeer. "He became a Death Eater, Harry! He tried to kill Dumbledore! He let Death Eaters inside the school! My brother got hurt because of what he did!"
"And I nearly killed him during sixth year because I didn't know what the spell would do," Harry said quietly. "Am I excusing Draco's behaviour? No. What he did was wrong. But he did it to save his parents and honestly? I can't blame him for that. Would I have done the things he did? I probably wouldn't have. But I would have done everything I could if it meant my parents would have been safe. We were just stupid kids, Ginny. We both made mistakes. We just chose to move past them."
"Well, good for you then, but not everyone is capable of doing that!" Ginny spat and she shoved her chair backwards, storming out of the pub before either of them could stop her.
"She has a bit of a difficult time getting used to the fact that you're meeting up with Malfoy," Hermione said with a sigh.
"I can't say I blame her," Ron muttered petulantly.
"I'm not asking either of you to befriend him," Harry countered irritated. "I'd just appreciate it if you'd stop thinking Draco is up to something and just accept that I know what I'm doing."
"We trust you," Hermione reassured him hastily and Ron grunted in agreement.
They just didn't trust Draco.
"So I heard you defended my honour against the Weasleys?" Draco drawled in place of a greeting when Harry entered the large library.
"Hello to you too, Draco," Harry retorted dryly and plopped down in the empty armchair in front of the marble hearth. Usually they sat with their books at the large table, but he was grateful for the warmth of the fire. The start of November had announced itself with a lot of streaming rain and howling cold wind.
"You look like crap," Draco remarked and closed the book he had been reading.
"Teddy's not sleeping well," Harry groaned and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Andromeda thinks he's started teething."
"Sucks to be you," Draco said without remorse and Harry threw him a half-hearted scowl. "Now why did you feel the need to defend my honour?"
"Your honour?" Harry muttered perplexed, completely thrown off guard. "What are you talking about?"
"Your nice conversation with your friends at the Three Broomsticks," Draco offered as explanation, tapping his fingers on the heavy tome.
"How do you know about that?"
"Blaise was there; didn't you notice him?"
"Zabini?" Harry tried to recall whether he had seen the dark skinned man, but his mind came up blank. "He must have come in after we already had a table, because I can't remember seeing him."
"You might not have seen him, but he definitely heard what you were saying," Draco smirked, leaning back into his chair.
Green eyes rolled. "It was just an argument we've had before. I'm hoping they'll finally stop bringing it up after this," he sighed and absentmindedly scratched the back of his left hand.
"Unlikely," Draco murmured and pursed his lips, regarding Harry oddly. "You don't look too bothered by it."
"Why would I be?" Harry shrugged, pulling a book about Animagi out of his bag. He had been contemplating for a while now whether he would become an Animagus like his dad and Sirius, but he hadn't been able to make a decision yet. Becoming an animal could be quite handy – unless the animal he became would be essentially useless like a chicken or so. He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared down at the cover of a man with the shadow of a horse behind him; could people actually turn into something like a chicken for their Animagus form?
"Because you had a fight with your friends about me again?" Draco suggested and rested his head on his left fist. His mouth twitched with a peculiar smile. "Because you pissed off your girlfriend by defending me?"
"Ginny will get over it," Harry commented flippantly and bypassing the author's note, he opened the book on the first chapter. "And Ron and Hermione will get used to it. It's not like I'm forcing them to become friends with you."
"Please don't subject me to that torture," Draco drawled and crossed his legs. "Just a question, though: what if they don't get over it?"
His tone was blasé and purposely light-hearted, but Harry caught the underlying note of apprehension and he looked up sharply. "Then they don't get over it. Big deal. I'll just make sure to limit the interaction between you."
He didn't think either Hermione or Ron nor Ginny would ever go out of their way to meet up with Draco anyway. Not if they could help it.
"You're surprisingly calm about this," Draco murmured; his eyes half lidded.
"And you're surprisingly bothered by it," Harry quipped lightly.
"I'm not bothered by it," Draco said defensively and there was a hint of petulance in his voice. "I'm just …"
"It's my decision whether or not I want to be your friend," Harry said after a short pause, having pinpointed what was really bothering the blond wizard. For someone who had acted so confidently all those years, Draco had a surprisingly insecure side. Harry knew better than to remark on that, though; he didn't fancy being hexed by the irate blond. "I don't care whether they like my decision or not; it's my life, simple as that. So stop worrying about it; you should know I'm not that easily influenced."
"I'm not worried," Draco sniffed and scowled, but his shoulders relaxed slightly and he opened his book with a content glint in his grey eyes.
Harry stifled a smile behind his hand and started reading his own chapter; their breathing and the turning of pages the only sounds disturbing the quiet in the library.
If a grateful smile flashed across Draco's face when Harry squeezed his shoulder a few hours later when he left to his own house, well, the dark haired man was smart enough not to remark on it.
"Mother really adores the bracelet you gave her," Draco commented as he came to a halt next to Harry. His breath formed white clouds and he shivered visibly before he cast a Warm Up Charm on himself.
Above them starts were twinkling against the midnight blue sky. Light of the half full moon illuminated the large garden vaguely; rose bushes and trees casting long shadows across the ground.
"I'm glad to hear that," Harry smiled, pleasantly warm thanks to his own Warm Up Charm despite standing outside at the end of December. Out of his peripheral vision he noticed Draco gazing at him thoughtfully.
"Is there a reason why you're outside and not inside?" Draco questioned curiously, leaning back against the wall.
Vaguely Harry could hear Teddy inside laughing brightly at whatever his grandmother was doing. It was the baby's first Christmas and the little boy had been more interested in the wrapping paper than his actual presents.
"It's a nice evening," Harry replied absentmindedly and shrugged. "I figured I'd go outside for a little while before going back in. Andromeda and your mother are keeping Teddy entertained so I don't have to worry about him."
Draco hummed and crossed his arms loosely. "Not wishing you were at the Weasleys?" he asked teasingly, but his eyes glinted hard.
The dark haired man snorted. "We're not attached to the hip," he answered dryly. "Besides I see them tomorrow. It's not a big deal."
"So Weaslette didn't mind that you're spending Christmas with me?" Draco questioned sceptically, raising a blond eyebrow.
Harry made a vague gesture with his hand. "She's getting used to my spending time with you, I think," he replied elusory.
He and Ginny had had some arguments about him spending Christmas with the Malfoys ever since Draco had asked him whether he wanted to come over. She definitely hadn't been happy about it; there had even been a memorable near screaming match through the Floo before Hermione had hastily broken them up. She had appeared to be under the assumption that he would grow bored with his friendship with Draco and would stop seeing him; he still hadn't figured out why exactly she would have assumed that, considering he was serious about his friendships with other people. Case in point being Ron and Hermione who had been his closest friends since he had met them during first year.
He had never been one to take a friendship with someone lightly; that probably had to do with the fact that he hadn't had any friends growing up thanks to Dudley's interference. So why Ginny had thought that he had just been messing around with Draco … Well, he had never claimed to understand girls.
Only last week they had finally stopped arguing about it after Harry had promised he would visit the Weasleys on Boxing Day. He had been planning to visit them on that day regardless, but Ginny had seemed to want verbal assurance. It didn't matter; he was already glad that they had finally stopped fighting about his decision.
"And you expect me to believe that?" Draco scoffed and scowled at him.
Harry grinned cheekily back. "Well, I'm here, right? You're not getting rid of me," he stated cheerily and glanced at the night sky one last time before he turned around, ready to go back inside. "I still need to give you your gift, come on," he hummed and pulled Draco along by tugging on his wrist, cheerfully ignoring the blond's growling and attempts at freeing himself.
Harry disregarded the glow of the twinkling bright lights of the Christmas tree beckoning him from the living room, where Teddy was crying out in delight and Andromeda could be heard talking to her sister. Instead he turned right and ascended the staircase; candles illuminating the steps.
"Where are we going?" Draco asked suspiciously. He had given up on trying to break free from Harry's grip and instead was trudging alongside the dark haired man with a light frown marring his forehead.
"The library," Harry replied, aware of the eyes of the portraits' owners that were following him curiously as they walked past them. "I asked one of the house elves to put your gift there."
"Why?" Draco questioned warily; his blond hair glistening faintly in the light of the candles.
A faint smile graced Harry's lips. "Because it's a bit too big to just haul it underneath the tree."
"Do I even want to know what it is?"
"I think you want to, yeah," Harry retorted determined and came to a halt in front of the library where they had spent many days already cooped up inside. He released Draco's wrist – flushing a bit when he realised he had been holding him this entire time – and pushed the door open. "After you."
Grey eyes threw him a decidedly unimpressed look, but the blond wizard entered the large room with a huff, striding inside, halting in front of the table. "All right, where's the gift?"
Harry closed the door behind him and chuckled amused. "Turn around."
He didn't even have to look up to know when Draco had realised what exactly his gift was, his soft gasp of shock audible proof of it, but he still did it, not wanting to miss even the most minuscule twitch in the young man's face.
"Harry, how …" Draco trailed off, clearly lost for words, as he wandered closer to the portrait which a house elf had hung up above the fireplace.
Dark eyes scrutinized the dumbstruck blond man below the portrait for a moment before the heavy gaze shot towards Harry and the older man tsk'd. "So this is why you ordered a second portrait," the painted image of Severus Snape spoke; his hand resting on a heavy tome as the Potions Master himself was seated in a comfortable chair.
The comfortable chair should have looked out of place in the midst of a potion's lab, but it oddly fit.
"I figured you'd like to get out of the Headmistress' office once in a while, sir," Harry said, drawing nearer until he halted next to Draco. "I didn't think you'd like to listen to gossip the entire day."
"So you did have some talent for observation," Snape sneered and Harry grinned.
"No need to thank me, sir," Harry smirked and turned towards Draco, his amusement turning into worry when he saw how still the blond was. "Draco? Is this – I thought you'd like a chance to talk to Snape sometimes. Maybe discuss potions?"
Had he gone overboard? It was just … He had thought Draco would like the chance to talk to Snape again; Merlin knew how much Harry would give just for a chance to talk to Sirius one more time.
"How did you manage to convince the board to make a portrait of him?" Draco asked quietly; his face unnervingly blank.
Feeling a tad restless, Harry started rocking back and forth slightly. "It wasn't so much convincing as telling them they would have no choice but to create a portrait of him because he had still been Headmaster of the school," he admitted wryly.
"I suspect you threatening to release some nasty rumours about them helped convince them more," Snape said silkily and smirked at Harry's shocked face. "Like you said, Potter, the portraits gossip. A lot."
"Ah well, it got them to approve the commission, so …" Harry trailed off, his cheeks heating up uncomfortably underneath Draco's surprised gaze. He cleared his throat and waved haphazardly at Snape. "So what do you think of it?"
"Thank you, Harry." Draco's voice was quiet, almost inaudible, but sincere and Harry smiled softly.
"No problem," he said and squeezed Draco's shoulder briefly. "At least now you have someone to discuss potions with, right? I don't have to pretend anymore that I understand everything you say," he added with a grin.
Draco stirred, the blank mask melting off, and he rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should try to understand at least half of what I tell you," he snipped and stuck his hand into his pocket to retrieve –
A flat present wrapped in dark green paper, which had delicate flowers pressed into it, outlined in silver.
"Here, my Christmas gift to you," Draco said brusquely and held it out to a surprised Harry.
"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything," Harry said hastily, thrown off guard.
"Harry, you even gave father a present. Just shut up and accept the gift, okay?" Draco returned exasperatedly and pushed the present in Harry's hand; the small size belying its rather heavy weight.
Bemused – and a bit pleased if he had to admit – he undid the black string and dropped it on the table, acutely aware of two gazes resting on him: one filled with anticipation and the other one neutral, bordering on bored. He removed the paper carefully, the folds falling open easily until it revealed the gift inside.
Harry stilled and curiosity bloomed inside him when green eyes took in the object lying in the palm of his hand. It was a golden pocket watch with a long thin chain that glittered in the light of the flames dancing in the hearth. Right in the middle of the watch a lion was engraved, standing up on his back paws while his mouth was open in a silent roar. On each side of the lion there was a dragon engraved, whose claws reached out to the lion. Long, thin tongues slithered out of their open mouths and their body tapered off into a curled tail. Harry thought they might be some kind of water dragon given their lack of lower legs.
"Open it," Draco urged him; his grey eyes quite intense when Harry chanced a look at him.
Not having any idea what to expect – save for the customary mini clock in it – he was shocked when the watch clicked open, revealing the mini portrait inside on its left side.
His heart clenched and he became so overwhelmed by the sudden influx of grief and happiness that he could do nothing but stare speechlessly at the picture.
A young Sirius Black, face still youthfully smooth, yet to be marred by scars and worry lines, grinned back at him and waved cheerfully, winking. He was dressed in nothing but a black shirt and ripped jeans and judging by how young he looked, he could be no older than twenty at most; his smile not yet tainted by years of pain, grief and loss.
"I didn't know what to give you," Draco broke the heavy silence; a hint of embarrassment colouring his voice. "I was thinking of something related to Quidditch until I found this. I was in the attic a week ago and I found the picture in one of the boxes mother brought with her when she married father. She didn't tell me how she got a hold of that picture, but I figured you might want to have it. I know it's nothing like an actual portrait, but - "
He cut himself off, body stiffening in shock, when Harry threw his arms around his neck and hugged him tightly; the pocket watch clenched firmly in his right hand.
"Thank you," Harry whispered thickly, face hidden in Draco's neck, and he laughed watery. "Thank you, this is the best gift someone could get me."
Draco sniffed haughtily. "Of course it is. I'm great at finding presents," he stated arrogantly, but his own arms closed around Harry's waist, returning the embrace.
Not even Snape's disgusted mutter of "Gryffindors and their bloody sentimentality" could temper the warm glow spreading throughout Harry's entire body.
"Merry Christmas, Harry," Draco muttered in his ear and Harry smiled.
Merry Christmas indeed.
"Floo call me immediately once you're back home," Ginny demanded; her hand gripping his own tightly.
"What if you're in class then?" Harry asked amused, reclining deeper into the pillow.
"Fine, send an owl then." She rolled her eyes, but the gesture was ruined by the relief practically radiating off her.
"We're serious, mate," Ron added, still dressed in his Quidditch uniform. "Just so we know you're all right."
"I'll be fine, guys, honestly," Harry reassured them. "If it was up to me, I would already be home but the Healer wants to keep me overnight."
"Which is a good idea," Hermione retorted sharply; her brown eyes lightly red rimmed. Her hands were clutching her dark robe tightly. "We don't want you to get worse."
"And I won't," Harry insisted. "I'll be fine, honest. Now as much as I love you guys, isn't it time you go back to Hogwarts? I thought you said McGonagall only gave you two hours, 'Mione."
The brunette flushed and her eyes widened when she glanced at the clock. "I guess we should go," she admitted reluctantly and rose up slowly from the chair; her eyes flitting back and forth between Harry and the clock.
"Right," Ron muttered, clearly not wanting to go.
"Seriously, go. I very much doubt anything is going to happen to me here, except for me becoming bored," Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Don't forget to send an owl," Ginny reminded him and they shared a brief kiss before she followed Ron and Hermione out of the hospital room; three pairs of eyes throwing him one last concerned look before the door closed behind them, cutting off the room from the noisy corridor.
With a groan Harry settled deeper into the small bed and rubbed his forehead, taking care not to aggravate the cut there. The snow in early January had made place for heavy rain at the end of the month and water was streaming down the window, the cast over, grey sky darkening the room.
He had been happy to see his friends, but he felt relieved that they were gone now. His head was pounding and their fussing and concern were a bit too much to deal with now.
After months of not having anything remarkable happening, he had landed in the hospital today after being attacked by a witch. He had been in Diagon Alley to pick up some books about dark creatures when a dark haired woman had accosted him, demanding to know why he was hanging out with "scum" like the Malfoys instead of helping people in need.
Already annoyed at the fact that he had been swarmed by people before he could enter a store, he had brushed her off and had marched out of the bookstore, intent on going home. The Blasting Curse had caught him off guard and he had slammed into the wall of the apothecary, bashing his head against it. The sharp pain – as if a hammer was continuously hitting his skull – had made him disorientated and only instinct – ingrained in him due to the war – had made him roll away on time, avoiding a Disarming Spell that would have left him utterly defenceless without his wand.
Despite the pounding headache and having his balance completely disrupted, he had given as good as he got, avoiding more curses and hexes as other people screamed and ran away. By the time Aurors had arrived on the scene, he had finally managed to rip her wand away and tie her up with ropes.
Kingsley had been there too and he had insisted on escorting Harry to Saint Mungos to have his wounds checked out. Harry had protested, but Kingsley had been relentless and had guided him to the hospital.
He had some minor cuts on his arms and cheeks and a rather large gash on his forehead from where he had slammed it against a windowsill. Despite the relative minor wounds, the Healer had insisted that he remained overnight to ensure there wasn't anything they were missing.
Kingsley had taken his testimony of the attack, assuring him the woman had already been brought to the Ministry before leaving him alone – though Harry suspected there was an Auror standing guard in the corridor.
Not even ten minutes after the older wizard had left, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had burst into the room; the Evening Prophet having alerted them of the attack.
So now he was here: stuck in a hospital room all because of one woman who thought she had a right to tell him what to do with his life.
At least he hadn't had Teddy with him. He would have done worse than attacking her with minor hexes if she had hurt his godson.
A knock on the door made him turn his head to it in confusion. Wasn't it too early for the Healer to perform another check-up? "Yeah?"
The door opened slowly and a familiar blond head poked inside. "Only you can manage to have a boring shopping trip end up in a battle," Draco drawled with a smirk and entered the room.
"Shut up," Harry groaned and sat up straighter, but he couldn't supress a small smile. "You read it in the Prophet, huh?"
"They were quite generous with the details. They even managed to capture your good side," Draco remarked dryly and came to a stop on Harry's left side; one of his arms held behind his back. Grey eyes studied him intently. "They're keeping you here?"
"Yeah, for the night," Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead where a potion was slowly healing the deep gash. "They don't want me to worsen." He rolled his eyes.
"Well, they can't have the famous Harry Potter worsening underneath their watch now, can they?" Draco riposted and if he had been anyone else, he would have chirped it. He seemed to be conflicted; his mouth turned into a faint grimace.
"I'm fine, honest," Harry said quietly, having read the concern in Draco's eyes. "They're just overreacting."
"I'm not worried," Draco instantly replied and stood straighter.
Green eyes regarded him sceptically for a moment before they switched to the arm half hidden behind the blond's back. "What are you holding behind your back?" Harry inquired, curiosity piqued.
"Something that's customary whenever you visit someone in the hospital," Draco drawled and brought his arm from behind his back, showing off what he had been hiding.
Harry laughed delighted when he took in the small bouquet of flowers presented to him. "I should have known," he grinned, accepting the delicately wrapped flowers.
The bouquet was made up out of two kinds of flowers like the first bouquet had been, but the combination was a rather strange, though appealing one. Tiny purple flowers forming small bushes of their own around their stems greeted him first; the strong fragrance of the purple lilac – a flower he had grown for years in the garden of the Dursleys – dancing around him, filling his nostrils with the nice scent.
The purple lilacs formed a circle around one lonely flower which was put right in the middle of the bouquet. A light pink peony stood out starkly against the sea of purple and the delicate petals looked soft to the touch.
This was the third bouquet Harry had received from Draco thus far and he was starting to think that the flowers weren't as randomly chosen as he first thought they were.
"The flowers – they have a specific meaning, right?" he asked; his gaze fixated on the lonely peony. He touched one of the petals carefully.
Draco stilled next to him. "They do, yes," he admitted after a short, pregnant pause.
"What do these flowers mean?" Harry questioned, entranced by the mixture of soft pink and bright purple.
"The peony is associated with healing," Draco told him and the teasing tone was audible in his voice when he added, "I figured it was appropriate considering you ended up in the hospital."
"And the purple lilacs?"
Draco was silent for so long that Harry looked up just to make sure he hadn't somehow left the room without the dark haired man aware of it. The intensity in those bright grey eyes made his breath hitch and he froze underneath the heavy gaze.
"Why don't you try to figure it out?" Draco suggested and the smile playing around the corners of his mouth was peculiar. "I know how much you love mysteries."
Well, he had never been able to say no to a good mystery. Funny though, how a lot of the mysteries in his life had had something to do with the blond standing calmly next to the bed.
At least this mystery isn't a life threatening one, Harry consoled himself, eyes lured back to the beautiful bouquet in his hands.
Guess he could add books about flowers to his shopping list now.
AN2: Seriously, I know I'm repeating myself, but it's odd to write a story without much angst :O It feels unnatural O_O *coughs* Anyway, please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
Next chapter will have violets and veronicas as focus :)
I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Say It with Flowers