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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author's note: I think this is the chapter that I genuinely worry that I'm hurrying things. That isn't my intention at all, so I hope it doesn't come across like that. Actually this chapter was quite difficult to write compared to the previous four, so that's why this is so late.
It's not exactly Valentine themed, but well, I guess the flowers do sort of have that theme attached to them.
Thanks to the following reviewers: djaddict (Thanks for pointing out that mistake!) and SP777 (Teddy often poses trouble for me when I write it, so I'm relieved to hear that!)
Warnings: eh not sure actually; confused Harry mainly
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 5 Bright Pink Rose and Pink Camellia
"Are you sure you don't want to talk to her?" Mrs. Weasley looked at him worriedly; her ginger coloured hair mixed with silver blending in with the flames. "Maybe you two can talk it out?"
Harry shook his head and gave the older woman a wry smile. "No, I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but we've said what we wanted to say yesterday when she Floo called me. She and I – I don't think we ever were a good fit for each other. I'm sure she'll be happy with Dean."
She pursed her lips together and sighed. "If you're sure." A hint of disappointment coloured her voice.
"I'm sure," he replied steadfastly. It was over between him and Ginny. He had started contemplating weeks before yesterday whether they really had a future together; Ginny cheating on him with Dean had just been the final confirmation that they wouldn't work out.
"Just know that I still consider you as one of my own sons," Mrs. Weasley told him solemnly. "You're always welcome at our house. Don't stay away because of Ginny, please."
"I won't," he promised and they exchanged some small talk before she had to leave and they shut down the Floo between them.
Harry sighed and rolled his shoulders, rising up from his knelt position with a soft groan. He turned his head and looked at Teddy, who was immersed in building a tower with his plastic blocks. The little boy was still dressed in his bright green onesie, the Floo call having interrupted Harry from changing Teddy's clothes. He had placed Teddy next to him on the carpet, a bit further away from the fireplace and had given the blocks to him to keep him occupied.
"Other people seem more distressed that Ginny and I broke up than I am," Harry told his godson and the eleven month old toddler looked up curiously. "Silly reaction of them, right?"
He was rewarded with a bright grin and Teddy babbling, "Da-da!"
Andromeda and Narcissa were both convinced that those syllables were Teddy's attempt to call Harry 'dad', but the younger man had pointed out that Teddy's blocks and even the cats in the street received the same name. Or at least something that sounded suspiciously close to 'da-da'.
He took Teddy's answer as agreement and smiled. "Knew you'd agree with me," he said and bent down to pick Teddy up. "Now let's get you out of our pyjamas, okay? You have to look nice for your grandmother."
Teddy squealed and his hair changed into a bright blue as he wrapped his small, chubby arms around Harry's neck.
The dark haired man brushed a kiss across Teddy's forehead and made his way to his godson's bedroom.
He paused momentarily in front of his bedroom when he caught sight of the flowers Draco had sent him yesterday and released his breath slowly before continuing his way to Teddy's room.
He would think about the flowers and Draco's intention with them later. First they needed to visit Andromeda.
"And who is my beautiful boy?" Andromeda cooed and raised Teddy in the air, rubbing her nose against his tummy.
The little boy shrieked with laughter and waved his arms up and down, kicking with his legs.
"Yes, you are!" She dropped several kisses on his forehead and cheeks, deftly avoiding his flailing limbs.
Harry grinned, thoroughly amused as he watched the regal looking woman make silly faces at her grandson. When he first met her, he had got the impression that she was rather stoic and stern, even aloof. However, once he started spending more time around her and got to know her better, he realised that the stoicism and aloofness were only a mask, cultivated by being brought up by the Blacks.
Having entered her circle of trust, he was one of the few around whom she let down her guard and he was allowed to witness her acting silly towards her grandson.
She placed Teddy on her lap, resting his back against her stomach and waved her wand in the direction of the kitchen. A few seconds later, a small plate with banana slices floated to them and landed on the coffee table in front of her.
"Does my sweetheart want some banana slices?" Andromeda murmured smiling and held a small piece of banana in front of Teddy.
"Ba-ba-ba," Teddy chattered and reached out with his hands, grabbing at the slice. He snatched it out of her hand and promptly stuck it in his mouth, sucking on it.
"Seems like he isn't bothered anymore by his new tooth," Andromeda remarked, keeping an eye on the little boy in her lap so that he wouldn't choke on the fruit pieces.
"No, it finally grew in fully a few days ago," Harry informed her and leant back into the comfortable couch; his cup of tea resting on his thigh with his hand wrapped around it.
"Now you don't have any pain anymore, right, Teddy?" she cooed and smiled when Teddy grinned back; his mouth covered with smashed bits of banana. Dark eyes fell on Harry and he automatically sat up straighter.
"What?" he questioned curiously and put his half empty cup back on the table.
"You're okay?" she asked, feeding Teddy another piece.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He shrugged, smiling back at Teddy when light green eyes flashed to him.
The small boy wiggled around on Andromeda's lap and held out a half-eaten, half smashed piece of banana to him. "Da, da," he said solemnly and waved his hand up and down impatiently.
"Aw, is that for me? Can I eat some banana too?" Harry grinned and stretched out his hand.
As soon as his godfather's hand was underneath his, Teddy opened his fist and let the banana drop in Harry's hand. He kept his gaze trained on the dark haired man until Harry pretended to eat the mashed bit, secretly letting it disappear with a flick of his wand.
"Yummy, right, Teddy?"
As soon as Teddy was certain that his godfather had eaten the banana, he turned back to the plate, reaching at it while smacking his other hand on his grandmother's thigh.
She fed him another piece and continued their conversation as if it hadn't been interrupted, "It's been in every newspaper and magazine." Her tone was idle, unconcerned, but her eyes were sharp.
A sigh escaped him; even here it seemed he couldn't escape it. "I know, but honestly, Andromeda, I'm fine. We've been growing apart for a while now. Even if she hadn't kissed Dean, we would have broken up eventually."
"You don't appear too bothered with it," she remarked; a slight frown creasing her forehead.
He shrugged. "Like I said: we weren't really that close anymore. It had become a matter of when, not if."
She clucked her tongue and uncovered a handkerchief from somewhere. She started cleaning Teddy's sticky hands and mouth, not perturbed in the slightest that the boy was trying his hardest to escape having his face cleaned. "If you want to talk, I'm here."
"I know," Harry smiled, warmed by her offer. His gaze fell on a vase near the window where a couple of white roses were soaking up the weak March sunlight and he blinked. "When you buy flowers – do you think about their meanings?"
Andromeda looked at him surprised before following his gaze. She shrugged. "Sometimes, for a special occasion; sure. But I've never been that great at knowing the meanings of flowers. My sister, Narcissa, on the other hand knows a lot about flower language. She probably even taught Draco about it, knowing her. Why?"
"No reason," he murmured, but the older woman's answer had given him something to think about.
Now he was completely certain: the meanings of the flowers Draco had sent him weren't accidental at all.
The question was: what was Draco trying to tell him?
On Sunday afternoon Harry gathered his book with the meanings of the flowers and every flower he had received so far and brought them to the living room. Teddy was taking a nap in his playpen, having exhausted himself and Harry decided to take advantage of the free time he had now. In two hours Teddy would wake up for his afternoon snack and then he wouldn't have time for a while to research the flowers.
Quietly he placed down the flowers and the book on the table and took a seat, a cup with mint tea next to him. He studied the flowers carefully; one hand rubbing absentmindedly over his right cheek.
Only the violets and the veronicas were still fresh, of course. The other flowers were too old to remain fresh, even with preservation charms, but acting on an impulse, Harry had cast a charm on them that would dry them and keep them looking like they had been when they had just been delivered to him.
He shifted the flowers around, putting them in the order he had received them while being mindful of the nearly one year old sleeping a few feet away from him. He started on the left, placing the purple hyacinths and the white campanulas first. Then the snowdrops followed and after them, the purple lilacs and the single peony he had received when he had been hospitalised. Closing the row were the violets and the veronicas; their perfume curling into his nostrils as he moved them.
Seven types of flowers so far. Seven possible different meanings.
"Now, let's find out what you've been trying to tell me, hm?" he whispered and narrowed his eyes. Pointing his wand at the small cabinet he used to store random objects in, he murmured, "Accio quill and parchment!"
The top drawer opened and a quill and several sheets of parchment flew out and dropped down in front of him on the table. Another flick of his wand and an inkwell joined the rest.
He dipped the tip of the quill in the inkwell – making a mental note to buy more ink soon – and started writing on the parchment.
Violet: faithfulness
Veronica: fidelity
Those were the two meanings he knew already and he stared at them with a frown. Even written down, the meanings didn't really make much sense. On an impulse, he added, Sent the day after Ginny was caught cheating.
Tilting his head slightly, he studied the words and shook his head with a sigh when his mind remained blank.
Perhaps he would understand them if he combined them with the other meanings. It was worth a try. If nothing else, he could still bug Draco about it, until the man gave in and told him.
He decided to start from the beginning and looked up the meaning of the purple hyacinths first. That one was rather straightforward when he combined it with the possible reason. Purple hyacinth meant 'I am sorry'. Draco had sent him those after the Malfoy trial had ended and when Harry flipped open the card that had been included, it didn't take him long to deduce why Draco had sent those.
He had apologised for all his wrongdoings in the past, so the purple hyacinths probably referred to that line in the card. The white campanulas which had been sent together with the hyacinths expressed gratitude. That one wasn't hard to figure out and he didn't even need the message in the card to make the link. With the campanulas Draco had thanked him for his help during his trial.
He clucked his tongue and smiled wryly; he probably should have realised those meanings before. In his defence, though, he hadn't expected to get flowers at all, much less that they would have a specific meaning attached to them. He had been under the assumption that Draco had sent the flowers randomly, as a thank you. Sort of like when Harry had bought a couple of sunflowers with some money he had found on the street, giving the flowers to the only teacher in primary school who had been nice to him. He hadn't thought of the meaning at all; they had just caught his eye when he walked past them on his way to school and he had bought them because they were pretty.
But he probably should have expected that there was a deeper meaning to the flowers Draco had sent him – the blond had never done things randomly after all.
The next flower he researched was the snowdrop, which had been delivered after Harry had made it clear he considered them to be friends.
"Huh," he muttered, supporting his head with his hand as he attentively read the text. Snowdrops stood for hope apparently.
Knitting his eyebrows together, he stared bemused at the snowdrops. Why would Draco want to express hope? He picked up the card that had accompanied the flowers and read it again.
'Thank you for giving me a second chance.'
Tapping the card against his lower lip, he gazed at the flowers, trying to figure out what hope had to do with the message. A flower expressing gratitude – like the white campanula – would have fitted better if one took into account the message Draco had sent him.
Yet the blond wizard had chosen snowdrops on purpose, so he had meant to express hope. Perhaps Harry wasn't supposed to link the message to the meaning in this case? The snowdrops might represent hope in an abstract manner, which in this case meant …
He hesitated and pursed his lips thoughtfully. Dropping the card back on the table, he idly tapped his quill against the parchment, uncaring about the little spatters of ink covering the sheet. It wasn't like he would have to hand in the paper, so what would some spilled ink matter?
Hope as an abstract concept …
"So just hope for our friendship then?" Harry muttered to himself and scratched the back of his head. An exasperated sigh left him. "Why not just be more straightforward with it and say what the flowers mean?"
Rolling his eyes, he decided that he would leave the snowdrops alone for now. He knew the meaning now, so that would have to do for the moment.
The third bouquet had been handed to him when he was at the hospital. Draco had already explained the meaning of the peony: healing. Easy, because he had landed in the hospital. So the only flower left of which he didn't know the meaning yet were the purple lilacs which had accompanied the peony.
If he knew the meaning of those, then maybe this entire thing would start making sense finally. At least he hoped it would start making sense, because while the first few flowers had been pretty straightforward, the last ones weren't at all.
"Lilac, lilac, lilac," he mumbled, flipping the pages quickly until he landed in the L section. He paused and held his breath when Teddy murmured something, smacking his lips, but the boy didn't wake up and merely wiggled around a bit in his sleep.
He turned a few more pages until he found the page dedicated to the lilac and started reading; his finger following the lines he read.
The lilac represents different emotions depending on the colour it has. Blue lilacs represent happiness and tranquillity for example. White lilacs, on the other hand, stand for purity and innocence, which are common meanings to be linked with the colour white.
Purple lilacs – often a light shade of purple – can be offered if the sender wants to symbolise his or her feelings of love for the other person. Related to that, pink lilacs mean …
He stopped reading, his heart skipping a beat, and froze. Slowly his gaze slid from the paper to the purple lilacs resting innocently in front of him.
Feelings of love.
As in – he swallowed, feeling inexplicably warm all of a sudden – as in romantic love? Did Draco intend to mean that with those flowers? Was he saying that he was … in love with Harry?
Suddenly the violets and the veronicas made a lot more sense. If Draco really was in love with him – and it was such a strange idea that he could barely contemplate it for more than a few seconds – then the whole fidelity and faithfulness hadn't been meant as a jab towards Ginny. No, instead of making fun of Ginny, Draco had actually been saying that he would never betray Harry like Ginny had done. That he would remain faithful to the dark haired man unlike Ginny.
That was if he really was in love with Harry. But he couldn't be, right? Why would he be in love with him of all people?
Harry had never really paid much attention to how other people looked like, bar the occasional thought that a particular girl was pretty or some guy looked good. He could admit, though, that Draco was handsome, quite good-looking, especially now that he had stopped slicking back his hair and just let it frame his face. His face didn't look so pointy anymore, having grown in it, and Harry had heard girls whisper about Draco's sharp cheekbones and piercing grey eyes before in the hallways of Hogwarts, before the war had started. His body was toned thanks to years of playing Quidditch and he moved with a certain grace that Harry had always lacked.
So yeah, Draco was good-looking, no doubt about that. He was smart, one of the very few who had been close to beating Hermione in getting top marks every year, and had a sharp sense of humour that Harry could appreciate now that it was no longer intended to really piss him off. Really, Draco could have anyone he wanted. Even now, with the Malfoys' reputation ruined, there were still girls in the streets and shops who couldn't take their eyes off the blond. They might not want to approach him, but that didn't stop them from being interested.
So with Draco able to get anyone he wanted, why on earth would he want Harry? The green eyed man knew he wasn't ugly, but he wasn't anything remarkable either. His hair resembled a bird's nest no matter what he tried, be it comb or charm. While he had managed to put on some weight, he would always remain slender and slightly shorter than most men his age due to the lack of decent food when he was younger. His knees were knobby and his arms and chest were littered with fine scars from battles. His most redeeming feature was his eyes and those were hidden behind his glasses. He had a knack of landing into trouble, even if he wasn't actively seeking it out. In short, while not ugly, he wasn't exactly at Draco's level either.
So it didn't make any sense for the blond to like him in that manner. Why would he when he could get anyone he wanted?
Yet he had sent those flowers and hadn't tried to lie when Harry had asked about the meaning. Had even encouraged the younger man to look up the meaning, so he had to be aware of what the lilacs represented.
"Why am I worrying about this?" Harry muttered, staring perplexed at the flowers. Even if Draco was really in love with him, what did it matter?
It wasn't like Harry was interested in guys.
That was what he thought at least, but the longer he stared at the flowers and thought about Draco, the more jumbled his thoughts became until he dropped his head on the table with a groan of misery.
Why couldn't his life ever be easy?
Hogwarts had taught him a lot of things. That real friends could be made at any age. That there were people who cared about him. That he wasn't a freak as Uncle Vernon had loved to call him, but simply someone who could use magic. Hogwarts had taught him how to use his magic, how to defend himself and others.
What it hadn't taught him and really should have was how to deal with it when you weren't sure anymore who you actually liked.
It had been a couple of days since Harry had figured out the meanings of the flowers and all he could think about was the fact that Draco was in love with him. Which then led to him wondering how he felt about that and driving himself insane when he couldn't find an answer.
Deciding how he felt about that shouldn't be that difficult, right? The only two people he had liked before had been girls, so it stood to reason that he was only interested in girls.
If it was that easy, though, why couldn't he stop thinking about the blond man? Why did he feel so confused and conflicted? If he really only liked girls, then why wasn't he disgusted or uncomfortable with the fact that Draco was essentially courting him with these flowers?
Courting him.
He clamped his lips shut to prevent a hysterical chuckle from escaping. Oh Merlin, Draco was courting him!
How had this become his life?
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione's worried voice broke through his thoughts and he blinked, shaking his head.
"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," he smiled weakly. "Just a bit distracted, don't worry."
"Distracted? How come?" she asked sharply and concern flashed up in her eyes.
Too late he realised that given how their lives had been until now, him being distracted might equal danger in Hermione's mind and he hastened to reassure her, "I was just thinking that it's time I started planning Teddy's birthday party."
Her face instantly cleared up; the traces of worry disappearing like smoke. "That's right! He'll turn one year old on the sixth of April, right?" she smiled.
"Yeah, so it's time I start planning it. It won't be too long anymore and it's his first birthday, so it's a very important one after all," he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. He stilled when the baby monitor started to glow and a few seconds later a soft whine came through. Teddy was awake. "Sorry, 'Mione, but Teddy just woke up and if I don't get him now, he's going to start screaming."
"I get it, don't worry. I have class soon anyway," she smiled. "I'll talk to you later, Harry!"
"We will," Harry grinned and then closed off the Floo before hurrying upstairs, where Teddy was standing up in his bed; his small fists clenched around two of the bars that kept him from rolling out of bed.
"Hey there, my little man," he said softly and picked Teddy up, settling him with his head against his shoulder. "Did you have a good nap?"
"Ma, mm," Teddy muttered incomprehensibly and yawned, blinking sleepily up at his godfather.
"Do you want your snack before you play?" Harry hummed and slowly made his way downstairs again, continuing his trek to the kitchen.
"Hah! Dada!" Teddy replied, excitement swiftly replacing drowsiness as he clapped his hands gleefully.
"Thought so," Harry chuckled and used his wand to cut a banana in small, bitesize pieces.
As Teddy attacked the banana pieces with gusto, seated in his high chair, Harry sat down next to him and released a soft sigh when his thoughts unwillingly went back to Draco.
So … what should he do now?
"You're inviting me and mother?" Draco repeated surprised; his quill hovering above his parchment.
"Why are you so shocked? You're practically helping me raise him," Harry chuckled, browsing through his book about defence spells. This book handled the more complicated defence magic and he was trying to get the hang of one in particular, which would return any magic cast on it tenfold.
"Yes, but – I thought you'd want to keep it to close family," Draco said stiffly and his shoulders were hunched, grey eyes looking anywhere but Harry, when the dark haired man glanced briefly at him.
"You are family," Harry replied softly and hesitated. He lowered his wand and turned around, continuing, "I mean, he's literally blood related and you're even closer family than I am. Never mind those semantics, why wouldn't I invite you and your mum? He likes you two and Andromeda told me your mum and her are on better terms now. Unless you don't want to come?"
Draco looked almost offended at that question. "Of course we want to come!" he answered sharply and huffed. "Don't be daft, Potter."
Harry grinned, amused at how easily Draco had included his mother in the decision, before he wavered for a bit, not certain whether he should say the next part.
Ah, fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound as they said.
"And I'd like you to be there," he murmured, becoming fascinating with a loose thread on the bottom of his shirt.
"Really?" There was an odd, underlying current in the blond's voice and when Harry chanced a look at him, he was struck speechless by the unexpected intensity in those grey eyes.
They pierced into his own and for a moment they were suspended in time and Harry scarcely dared to breathe as those silver grey orbs seemed to gaze straight into his core.
Then that silver gaze pulled away, breaking the tension, and Harry sucked in a large breath; his legs feeling odd, like they were made of rubber.
"Yeah, really," he said and cleared his throat, spinning hastily around, back to the book lying on a stand next to him; his heart thundering so loud it surprised him that the other man couldn't hear it.
"I'm glad to hear that," Draco murmured and then silence descended over them, only broken by the sound of pages turning and quills scratching on parchment.
Blankly Harry stared at the page in front of him, not taking in any of the words written down there. His heart had finally stopped beating fast like he had just finished a race, but he still felt inexplicably warm and he was hyper aware of the distance between him and the other wizard. Aware of the calm breathing and the soft click of his tongue whenever the blond wizard couldn't immediately find something in his book. Conscious of the fact that there were only a few feet separating them.
His skin prickled uncomfortably and his fingers clenched around the corner of the page.
As the faint sound of birds chirping near a window of the library reached his ears, he silently wondered what the fuck just had happened.
Naturally there was no reply.
Damn it.
"You're lucky that Ron got dragged away to play some Quidditch with Seamus and Dean," Hermione sighed as she plopped down on the chair across from him. She smiled when her gaze fell on the cooled glass of Butterbeer waiting for her. "Thanks. So what's so urgent that you couldn't wait until the holidays started to talk about it? Or that you couldn't talk about through the Floo?" She raised an eyebrow, dropping her heavy bag next to her on the floor.
It being in the middle of the week, there were no Hogwarts students present in Hogsmeade. Only the ones repeating their year – or doing an eight year like Ron had jokingly said a couple of months ago – were allowed to visit Hogsmeade during the week, provided that they behaved themselves.
This was where Harry and Hermione currently were: sitting at a small table in the Three Broomsticks after he had asked her to meet him alone. Teddy sat on his lap, browsing through a children's book and pointing at the colourful drawings inside.
"Moo!" Teddy giggled and pointed at the picture of a cow grazing some grass.
"Yeah, that's a happy cow, right, Teddy?" Harry hummed and his godson smacked the book happily. It was a good thing he was holding on to the book firmly, otherwise it would have been smacked straight to the ground.
Hermione chuckled amused and that sound attracted the toddler's attention. He looked up and offered a big grin. "Ha!" He waved his hand furiously up and down and squealed in delight when she waved back. His attention went back to the small book when Harry turned the page. "Woo!" he muttered and petted the picture of the brown, longhaired dog.
"So what do you want to talk about?" Hermione asked curiously and sipped from her Butterbeer.
Harry pursed his lips and answered slowly, "There's … an issue I've been trying to figure out and – I guess I just need another perspective on it."
She raised an eyebrow. "That sounds serious," she murmured and tapped her nails against her glass. "What's the issue about?"
"I …" Harry faltered, not certain how to continue. How could he explain that he had started questioning whether he really only liked girls? That when he thought about Draco, his stomach did some funny flips and he felt way too hot?
How was he supposed to explain that he enjoyed Draco's company way too much for simply being friends? That the way he felt around Draco was entirely different from how he felt around Ron and Hermione and that he only had just realised that fact a few days ago? That he found himself coming up with any excuse to be with the blond, even when it was just to study while he had never really felt that urge with Ginny?
How was he supposed to tell his best friend that he thought he wasn't as straight as he previously had assumed?
That he even might be …
"There's – someone I like," he started slowly and absently flipped the page in the book when Teddy looked up imploringly.
"Oh?" Hermione looked surprised and delighted at the same time. "That's great! I didn't think you'd like someone so soon after Ginny, but I'm happy for you!"
"Yeah well, I might have started liking that person when I was still with Ginny, but I didn't realise it at that time," he admitted embarrassed and felt himself flush.
And I didn't realise I actually liked him like that until I started thinking about it. Because I'm that much of an oblivious idiot apparently.
"Well, that happens sometimes," she said thoughtfully and shrugged. "So what's the issue? Are you worried about what other people might think, because of Ginny?"
"Not really," he answered hesitatingly. He was certain there would be an uproar if he actually did come out, but it wouldn't be because of Ginny – at least not completely. "It's – this person I like – it's a guy."
"Oh." She looked momentarily stunned, clearly taken aback by this information and he looked at her nervously.
Something in him clenched when he realised that this was the first time he had uttered the idea of liking a guy aloud. He had played around with the idea in his mind since Sunday, but he had never said it aloud. It felt … weird.
"Okay, that's – a bit surprising, but it's great! It doesn't matter who you like, Harry," Hermione smiled warmly and squeezed his wrist gently. "As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."
"Yeah …" Harry bit his lip.
"What's wrong?" She frowned. "Are you afraid of what the others will think? They won't care about it, don't worry."
"It's not that," Harry said, shaking his head, though a part of him was a tad worried about the reactions of his friends. "It's just … I'm confused, I guess."
"Because you like a guy?"
"It's … I wasn't sure whether I actually liked him in that way, but since I started thinking about it, I just – can't stop and I'm … My head is a mess," he sighed.
Eloquent as always, he thought sourly.
"Well … Do you feel happy when you're with him?" Hermione questioned, tucking a lock of her curly hair behind her right ear.
"Yes." He didn't even have to think twice about that; the answer escaped him instantly.
"Do you feel like you want to spend all your time with him?"
"Yeah." His voice grew a bit softer unconsciously.
"Does he make you happy?"
"Yeah, he does."
"Can you imagine being in a relationship with him?"
"I think I can, yeah," he answered slowly, mulling over the idea. So far he hadn't actually thought about an actual relationship between them, but the concept didn't freak him out as much as he thought it would.
In fact when he thought about it, his stomach did a funny flip and his cheeks warmed up.
His blush must be more noticeable than he assumed, because Hermione suddenly smirked and her brown eyes glittered as she said smugly, "Well, judging by your reaction, I think you're not that confused anymore, hm?"
"Shut up," he groaned and let his head fall back, cushioned by the wall behind him.
Teddy looked up confused before he went back to looking at the pictures.
"It'll be fine. Just tell him how you feel," she said and smiled. "If he has even a shred of intelligence, he knows you're the best catch there is," she teased and he snorted.
How shocked would she be if she knew that it was actually Draco who had started courting him and that it had been Harry who hadn't been sure how to react?
Well, until now that was. The chaos in his mind had died out now that he had had a chance to speak about it. He knew he had made a good decision to talk about it with Hermione. She had always managed to help him, no matter what kind of problem it was.
"So who's the lucky guy?"
Harry waited until she was about to drink more Butterbeer and then smirked. "Draco."
Having Butterbeer spat into his face when Hermione choked and started coughing was totally worth admiring the look of pure shock on her face.
A week after he had figured out the meanings of the flowers, Harry decided enough was enough. He was done with tiptoeing around. On Sunday evening, he sent Auryon to Draco with a short message.
'Draco,
I know the meanings of all the flowers. What do you want to do now?'
The entire Monday was spent feeling jittery as he cleaned up the house and distracted himself by playing with Teddy and teaching him more words; waiting for Draco's reply.
Would it have been better if he had confronted Draco directly? But he hadn't known how to do that without sounding like an idiot. Writing it down had seemed like the safest option, but now all he could do was worry about what Draco was thinking right now.
Was he still interested in Harry? Or had it been more like a passing fancy and Harry had just made an idiot out of himself?
Fuck, why was he so nervous? He hadn't even been this nervous when he had just started dating Ginny!
A peck against the window startled him and he quickly crossed the room to open the window; all the while keeping an eye on Teddy who was content to play with his blocks on his own. His heart skipped a beat when the rusty brown coloured owl hopped inside, immediately offering his leg. Just like all the other times the owl took off once Harry had removed the small box.
Flowers again, huh?
"This is going to be interesting," he muttered and sat down on the couch, keeping Teddy in his line of sight as he placed the box on the coffee table and enlarged it with a quick snap of his wand.
Once the lid and the walls of the box were down, the colour pink greeted him and he blinked. Bright pink roses greeted him first; twelve in total. They formed a circle around six large pink flowers: pink camellias.
"Oh wow, he really went all out this time," he muttered in awe and carefully stroked a petal of the closest pink rose.
"Oooh!" Teddy cooed, pointing at the flowers with large eyes.
Harry laughed. "I know, right? Your Uncle Draco doesn't do things by halves, it seems."
His gaze fell on the card nestled between a rose and a camellia and he carefully plucked it out of the bouquet. His heart started racing and he swallowed; his throat suddenly dry. Now he would know whether Draco was still interested or not.
Slowly he opened the card and started reading.
'Harry,
It's quite simple: I want you. Took you long enough to figure out what the flowers stood for.
If you don't feel the same for me, then we can just ignore this and we'll stay friends. No harm done.
If you do feel the same for me – and quite frankly, I hope you do – then the roses will tell you when to meet me today in the Malfoy garden. Should you show up, I will take that as your confession of your feelings.
I hope to see you soon.
Draco'
The blond didn't beat around the bush and Harry was grateful for that. With a shuddering breath, he turned back to the bouquet in front of him.
The roses, hm?
Pink camellia are given when the sender wants to express their longing for that person. The flower literally means 'longing for you'.
Roses have always been associated with romance. They are the most popular flower to buy when you want to woo someone; nobody can mistake that romantic gesture. What not a lot of people know, however, is that the different colours a rose can have also stands for different meanings. … When the rose is bright pink, it means 'meet me by moonlight'. Couples throughout the centuries have used this colour to …
"You showed up."
The moon was nearly full and its light coloured the large garden silver. So close to the full moon, there was no need for any type of light and Harry had no trouble at all spotting Draco in front of the fountain. The white base gleamed in the moonlight and the dark haired man could make out carvings of water nymphs dancing around.
"You sound surprised," Harry remarked and halted a few feet away from the blond. He cocked his head and a smile played around his lips. "Not that confident in your courting?"
Draco shrugged and smiled wryly. "I admit that the flowers weren't exactly a conventional way to court you, but you deserve something special."
The words caught Harry off guard and he blushed, stuffing his trembling hands into his pockets.
Draco's eyes seemed pure silver when they regarded Harry patiently. "So can I take your presence here tonight as to mean that you return my feelings?" he murmured and there was a hint of uncertainty lingering in his voice. He stood stiffly; one gust of wind seemed enough to blow him over.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," Harry answered, feeling a bit lightheaded and giddy at the same time. His stomach did several flips when Draco drew closer to him. "How long have you - "
"Been in love with you?" Draco finished his sentence and offered a crooked smile. "A while now. You?"
"A while apparently. I just hadn't figured it out for myself until now," Harry replied and his breath hitched when the blond closed the remaining distance between them.
"Is that so?" Draco murmured and raised a hand, cupping Harry's left cheek carefully. Silver grey stared right into emerald green and Draco bent closer, his mouth hovering against Harry's, as he whispered, "Last chance to back out, Potter."
"Not a chance," Harry breathed and then their lips touched and oh.
Yeah, he thought dazed as Draco pulled him closer and their kiss grew more insistent as their lips rubbed slowly against each other, not backing out at all.
Above them, the moon shone brightly, bathing them in its gentle light.
AN2: I hope this isn't as bad as I fear it is *winces* This was remarkably difficult to write ...
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
See you all in the next chapter, with as flowers: red chrysanthemum and coral rose!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Say It with Flowers