Love and Bouquets

The third bouquet comes nearly 5 months of ‘secret’ Seeker’s matches against Draco later. It’s early morning, in mid-June, just after Draco’s 19th birthday and Harry’s curled up on Draco’s bed. It’s become a normal thing, for the two of them to be found in each other’s rooms: Whether they’re together, wrapped around each other with the door closed and warded, or sat separately, but still making sure they’re within touching distance, it’s become nearly impossible to separate the two.

Harry had awoken to a cold bed, stretching his arm out to try and find Draco who would normally be curled into him at this point, bleary eyed and clingy. Finding only cold where Draco had been lying, Harry had rolled himself into the duvet and moved over to Draco’s side of the bed, letting Draco’s scent wash over him. 

He couldn’t pinpoint the day that this had happened, them waking up together, but he knew he’d been the one to wake up screaming from a nightmare about Draco dying in the Fiendfyre that Crabbe had caused. It had taken several minutes for him to catch his breath but as soon as he had felt steady enough to move he’d left his bed, and gone to knock on Draco’s door. He’d still been trembling when Draco had opened the door, and Harry had thanked his lucky stars that Draco slept lightly enough that his knocking had woken the other boy up. Draco had pulled Harry into his arms, putting just enough pressure on Harry’s body to make sure his brain knew he was safe. He’d guided Harry into his bed without asking any questions and he’d arranged Harry to be able to tuck the smaller boy into his arms where they’d fallen asleep as if they’d been doing that their whole lives.

The ward around Draco’s door glowed a light purple, telling Harry that the blond boy was about to open the door. Harry could hear voices outside: He was sure he could hear Draco talking to Pansy, Blaise, Hermione, and was that Ron’s voice too? Harry burrowed further down into the bed, not wanting to face those four just at the minute. The voices faded as the locked door clicked open and then closed. Harry heard Draco moving around, putting something down on the desk, before the bed dipped behind him and Draco’s arm came sneaking around the roll that Harry had turned himself into.

Harry smirked. Draco definitely thought he was still asleep! The blond would never try to gently put his arm around Harry if he knew the brown haired boy was awake, instead flopping himself down onto the bed and whining about something that had annoyed him. Harry rolled himself over into Draco who grunted and pushed him back, frowning at the head that popped itself out of the duvet. Draco was dressed in Muggle jeans and a hoodie that was definitely Harry’s, but the messy hair told Harry that he’d not been awake for much longer than him.

“The bed gets cold without you, y’know?” Harry remarked, flapping his hands around until the duvet released him. Draco threw his hands up, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Some of us have lessons they need to go to, Mr-Saviour-of-the-Wizarding-World! I understand that not all of us think we need DADA lessons but others of us have a requirement to attend ours. And I brought you breakfast and you didn’t even thank me!” 

Grimacing, Harry squinted over at the desk to try and see the plate of food that Draco had indeed bought up for him. Next to them was something that looked suspiciously vase-like, but without his glasses on, he couldn’t make out what it actually was. Sighing at Harry, Draco put out a hand behind him and found Harry’s glasses which had been placed on the bedside table and handed them to Harry who sat himself up on the bed and dropped a light kiss onto Draco’s head in thanks.

“Do I have to go through my book again or are you going to tell me what the flowers mean?”

“I think I’ll leave that one to you,” Draco flushed up to his ears; Of course he wasn’t just going to say out loud what the flowers meant! “After all, it’s much funnier making you do the research and seeing if you get the meanings right.” He got a frown in response to that but it was light-hearted. He knew Harry had enjoyed trying to work out the flower meanings. The Slytherins had tucked themselves into a corner of the library in January, watching Harry try and work out the meaning of that bouquet.

Foxgloves reminded Draco of the Manor. They were one of the flowers that had always been grown there, even before the time of his great-grandparents. He felt like he was giving Harry a little bit of himself even if those specific foxgloves had come from the florist in Hogsmeade first thing this morning, not from the Manor gardens. One day he’d take Harry home and give him Malfoy Manor’s finest foxgloves, but today wasn’t that day. Besides, he’d not even told Mother of their current situation and she wouldn’t be at all happy if he just turned up with Harry in tow.

Poppies reminded him of the Parkinson’s estate. If you went to Parkinson Malfoy during the summer, as Draco and his friends tended to do, you’d catch the poppy gardens in full bloom. Poppies took him back to the times when he and his friends had been most free, away from their fathers, the beliefs and presences of the other Death Eaters in their houses. Their little gatherings had usually been he, Blaise, Pansy, Theo, Daphne and any of the other Slytherins who needed an escape from their families. Their gatherings were something Draco held in his heart, as a happy memory and escape when needed.

Ferns, the only bit of greenery that showed in the top of today’s bouquet, reminded Draco of the forests that surrounded Malfoy Manor. He’d learnt which bits of the forests were safe for him to escape to in the 19 years of living there, and which bits he needed to avoid to avoid accidentally bumping the Death Eaters who were using the forests as a discreet way to Apparate in and out of the Manor without being caught by Aurors.

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There were boxes of chocolate brownies, a pile of boxes of the French chocolates that Mother usually ordered for him and a small bear toy sat on Draco’s bed when he came back from dinner. The note with them was written in Harry’s scrawled handwriting. 

“Draco,

Neville gave me a book for Christmas on flowers after you sent me that first bouquet at the start of the year, all the way back in October. How we got from that point to here I’m not quite sure but as I understand today’s flowers to their meanings of secrecy, love and dreams, I’d like to take you on a date. Not in public, mind you, but I’ve got a place that we can escape to.

My invisibility cloak (that I know you know about, you prick. I saw you sneaking a look at it one day when you thought I was asleep) is tucked under your bed: bring it with you this evening (and yes, you can use it if you’d like to). Meet me outside Seve - Snape’s office at 8pm. Snape’s arranged for us to use the floo in his office even though he knows we’re perfectly capable of Apparating. I think he just wants to know we’re both still alive by the end of it (or before it, I’m not quite sure).

I’m spending from now until our date with Ron and Hermione. I’ve already picked up everything I need from our rooms. I’ll see you at 8.

Yours,

Harry”

Draco would never admit to it out loud but reading how Harry had signed the note sent a shiver down him. They’d never talked about what they were. Talking about it made it something big and scary, made it more complicated than what it was and what it needed to be, but it seemed almost like Harry wanted to make things a little more official.

Tucking the bear into his bed so only its head was sticking out, he moved the chocolate and brownies onto the desk, which was now clear of the bouquet he’d given Harry this morning. Pansy would be the best person to go to for advice on what to wear on a date, he decided. She’d almost certainly drag Blaise in with her and they’d mock him mercilessly about it for at least 10 minutes but it was worth knowing what she thought he should wear. But before asking them, he would have to go and check with Granger and the Weasel to get a feel for what type of date it was going to be.

He went to knock on Granger’s door, feeling a sense of slight dread creeping through him. Granger’s bushy hair poked its way around her door until her eyes landed on Draco, a smirk finding its way onto her face. He frowned at her, a blush rising up his face. “I had a question for Potter. Could you ask him if I need to wear anything specific for tonight, please?” She nodded and withdrew her head. Draco could hear voices in her room and presumed both Harry and Weasley were in there with her, as Harry had suggested in his note. “He says you should wear something comfortable but warm, and bring a coat with you. Oh, and leave your hair down. He likes it like that.”

He was definitely as red as a tomato, if the amused look on her face was anything to go by. He nodded stiffly and turned to go, but her voice stopped him in her tracks. “Oh, and Draco? Am I okay to call you that? Don’t hurt him, or you’ll have me to answer to.” Swallowing, Draco nodded. “I understand Gr- Hermione, I’ll try my best to look after him.” She smiled gently at him, and shut her door as she disappeared from his view.

Pansy’s room was next to Hermione’s so Draco kicked at her door before opening it. He didn’t particularly want to walk in on Pansy and Blaise snogging the way he had in the days when Pansy had had an open door policy which had spectacularly backfired on them one day when he’d walked in to complain about something and found them making out on her bed. He wasn’t completely sure who’d been more embarrassed but he just used it to make fun of them now. It wasn’t as if they’d been hiding it but he hadn’t expected them to actually make a move towards becoming an item properly at that point in the year.

Fortunately, when he opened the door, they were sitting at opposite ends of Pansy’s bed. He smirked at them before continuing his campaign to find an outfit suitable for a date with Harry. “Pansy, I need help choosing an outfit for a date.” There, he’d said it. Both of their jaws dropped a little before Blaise started laughing, and Pansy smirked at him. “This a date with Golden Boy?” He nodded meekly as she laughed. “It’s not funny!! I need help!! I don’t know what to wear!! Please help me, Pansy.”

Holding a hand out to Draco as she rolled her eyes, Pansy let him lead her back to his room. Blaise tagged along with them, not wanting to be left out. Pansy was a force to be reckoned with as soon as anyone even asked her about fashion and outfits. He’d watched the way she’d spent hours deciding what she, Daphne, Millie and Tracy should wear to the Yule Ball back in their fourth year, and that was before she’d even thought about taking up a career in Wizarding fashion. He let Pansy go through his wardrobe, telling her word-for-word what Hermione had told him, that it should be comfortable but warm and could be paired with a coat that wouldn’t boil him alive in the early summer sun.

Draco had allowed himself a wardrobe makeover in the months they’d been back at Hogwarts. Persuaded by Pansy’s love of fashion, and his treasure trove of Harry’s Muggle clothing, he’d allowed Pansy to sit him down with a catalogue that one of the stores in Diagon was using to order clothes from Muggle stores. He’d been so nervous the first time he’d gone to a meal wearing Muggle jeans and a hoodie but Harry had given him a warm smile, his eyes flicking over Draco’s outfit in admiration, and Draco had forgotten completely about his nerves.

Pansy clicks her tongue at him as she rootles through his large collection of clothes, flicking clothes hangers along the rail in his wardrobe. He blinks as she throws a white t-shirt, a pair of cream light-weight cargos and a green jumper at him. He moves into the bathroom to get changed as she starts going through his shoe collection to find a pair that will go with the outfit. Pulling the clothes on, Draco had to admit that Pansy knows what she’s doing. The outfit looks good on him, in ways that he would’ve never been able to put together. A vision of her working as he and Harry’s personal fashion advisor flashed across his mind and he lets out a bark of laughter before returning to his bedroom.

“Hey Pansy, you should do this as a full-time job. I’d hire you, you know?” Pansy frowns at him, a blush spreading down her face. “You know it’s my dream to go and work in the Wizarding fashion industry! You can’t just hire me before I’ve even had a chance to go and make my own clothes, but I’d happily be your fashion advisor on the side since you’re in dire need of some help when it comes to situations like this.” Draco grins, sitting down to let her compare shoes against the outfit. He eventually ends up in a pair of his favourite shoes, a pair of white sneakers by a brand that Pansy says are called Adidas. 

He spins round in front of the mirror, Blaise letting out a piercing whistle in response to which, Pansy smacks his arm. Draco goes to pick up his watch from the desk and his heart stutters when he realises it’s already 7:50pm. “Quick, go, go,” He ushers Pansy and Blaise from the room, thanking Pansy for helping her and that yes, he will get her something pretty for it. “I’ve got to meet Harry in 10 minutes and it’ll take me at least 10 minutes to get there.” He knows damn well it’ll take him 4 minutes max, because he knows a shortcut to Sev’s, but he doesn’t want to tell them that. “Have fun Draco! Be safe!” Pansy waves at him as he shuts the door in their faces, trying to slow his rapidly increasing breath down.

He pulls his jacket on, a black jacket with a snake embroidered on it because he’s nothing if not a Slytherin and he will find a way to show it, pulls up his wards, finds Harry’s invisibility cloak which is folded neatly below his bed and locks the door behind him. He droops the invisibility cloak over him and it’s like a cool breeze has flowed over him. He’s never touched a cloak like this let alone used one and he’s almost childlike in his excitement as he walks down the corridor towards where a suit of armour is hiding a passage that takes him directly to the dungeons.

Harry’s not there yet when he arrives, so Draco takes a minute to lean against the wall and calm himself. He hears footsteps along the corridor so he stands up straight, smooths down his jacket and sticks his hands in his pockets to stop himself from messing his hair up. Harry appears from around the corner and laughs to himself as he consults a piece of parchment that he’s holding. “Draco, I know you’re there, you can take the cloak off.” Draco frowns as he pulls the cloak over his head, staring at Harry who’s smirking at him. Draco edges towards Harry, who rolls his eyes but shows Draco the map.

Draco’s jaw drops. He can see Severus, pacing his study. McGonagall in her office, right where the desk is. Neville and Luna down by the greenhouses, Pansy and Blaise back in Pansy’s room, Daphne and Theo in the Library, names and feet that Draco barely recognises making their ways through the school. He glares at Harry, realising this is how Harry knew where he was all the time through their school lives. “So this is how you stalked me, huh?” Harry takes a little bow and smirks at him.

Harry reaches out to knock on Severus’ door and the door swings open. Their Professor stares down at them, the glint of amusement in his eyes the only hint from his impassive stare giving away his feelings on the matter in hand. “Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy, so nice of you to drop by. The Floo is straight through the hallway. You know the rules, don’t kill each other, I don’t want to be the one who has to tell the Mutt and Lupin that their Godson has been disposed of. I’ll see you in three hours.”

Harry grabs Draco’s hand and pulls him through Snape’s hallway to the fireplace. He faces Snape and nods in thanks before turning to Draco. “We’re going to Potter Manor. Just say Potter Manor and I’ll meet you there.” Draco nods and watches as Harry disappears in a flash of green smoke. “Draco, please make sure that you and Mr Potter both make it back before curfew. It would be so dreadfully dull to have to give you detention as Eighth Years.” Draco nods and throws down the Floo powder, making sure he enunciates the name of the location he wants to end up at: Merlin knows he doesn’t want to end up at some random Pureblood family’s Manor. His parents aren’t on the best of terms with the others, so who knows what they’d do to him.

Draco finds himself being spat out the other end of the Floo into a wooded area. Harry’s there to meet him and he takes Harry’s hand once he’s dusted all of the Floo powder off himself. “Welcome to Manoir Evans, Draco.” Draco’s too busy watching as a gated estate reveals itself in front of him to even question how Harry’s managed to speak such good French. The house covers the view of the sea that he had just spotted through a gap in the trees but Draco assumes that there’s a way down to the beach through the gardens of the estate. 

Harry reaches a hand out to the gate, which swings open to let them in. The two walk down the drive together and a house elf pulls open the door and welcomes the two of them to the Manor. Harry introduces her to Draco. Zippy, the Evans Manor house elf, curtseys to Draco and tells him how nice it is that Master Harry has made the Manor busy again. Harry lets Zippy take their jackets, and leads Draco through the house. “Next time we’re here, remind me to take you on a proper tour of the house? We don’t have time tonight given that we have to be back at Severus’ at 11 but next time I’d like to show you around properly.” Harry gives him a slightly regretful smile but they carry on through the house through to a living room whose double doors open out onto a veranda which overlooks the coastline that Draco could see earlier.

There was a picnic blanket laid out on the grass just beyond the stairs down from the veranda, with a wicker basket sitting innocently next to it. Draco stopped and his jaw dropped. Harry had arranged this for him?! Harry turned to him with a shy smile and Draco couldn’t help but pull him in for a kiss. “You did this just for me?? I love it. Thank you.” Harry tucked his head below Draco’s chin and wrapped his arms around him. “Zippy helped, and your mum said you enjoyed picnics so I thought it might be a nice late birthday treat for you. I, uh, also had something I wanted to ask you.”

Draco felt his heart speed up. “Uh, I know we’ve not really discussed this,” Harry’s pulled away from him and is leading him towards the picnic blanket, where he takes Draco’s hand and waves the other between the two of them. “But I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you properly, and I also know we’re both awful at properly communicating but I wanted to ask you this officially. Not least because your Mother will kill me if I don’t, but I want to be able to take you to events and explain who you are to me. Draco, be my boyfriend?” 

Draco nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth lest some kind of un-Malfoy-like sob let itself out. He propelled himself forward to pull Harry in for a hug and kissed the top of his head. Violently blinking the tears that were building up in his eyes and swallowing around the lump in his throat, he nodded again. “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend, you silly idiot. You didn’t even need to ask.” Harry gently pulled down until they were sat, Harry leant against Draco’s chest between his legs. 

Draco tucked his head into Harry’s neck, letting a few silent tears escape him without wanting to show Harry how emotional he actually was. Harry gently ran his hands through Draco’s hair, feeling the tears dampening his t-shirt. He let his boyfriend (because he could call Draco that now!) cry for a few seconds before pulling the wicker basket towards them and carefully lifting out the dishes that Zippy and the other Potter elf, Mitzy, had prepared earlier. 

“Uh, I also wanted to say, and correct me if I’m wrong about my understanding of the foxgloves, but I love you too. I realise it’s a little early in our properly confirmed relationship to be saying that but the last 6 months have been a lot of fun and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Harry busied himself with filling a plate full of food for he and Draco to share, only to miss Draco’s eyes fill with tears again. Draco took the plate out of his hands, put it down on the mat and pulled him in for a very thorough kiss that made Harry shiver. “I’m so glad Longbottom told you about that book. Remind me to send him a bouquet next.” Harry glared at him and Draco smirked, putting his hands up in protest. “Okay fine, no bouquets for people who aren’t you. Guess I’ll just give him access to any plants he wants from Malfoy Manor, if he’s comfortable with going to the greenhouses.” Harry gave him a soft smile and confirmed that Neville would probably be up for that as long as he was given some warning, so Draco made a mental note to send Longbottom an invitation before springing on him.

The rest of that evening was filled with homemade food, soft whispered “I love you’s”, kissing and even a paddle in the sea on the private Potter Estate beach. Draco had never felt quite as content and safe the way he did with Harry, on this private land that only he and Harry (and, he presumed, Lupin, Black and Severus) knew about at that moment in time. In the end, they made it back to Snape’s rooms only a few minutes after curfew, so having Harry’s invisibility cloak made it easier for them to get back to the Eighth Year dorms. 

Draco’s next round of sending post included an order for a bouquet for his mother, a note to Longbottom inviting him to make use of the greenhouses at Malfoy Manor at any time he wished to do so, and a letter to his Godfather thanking him for the use of his floo. There were, of course, many more bouquets for Harry over the next few years but none quite as prominent in their lives as what they and their friends came to know as the fourth bouquet.