Falling Petals
“What are you doing here?” Neville asked, his gaze unreadable. It seemed like a glare, or maybe a frown. Harry couldn’t tell.
“I need to see Draco,” He stated, his voice not caring him well.
Neville had walked past him, whispering the password and opening the door for himself. “He’s not here.”
Harry grabbed his sleeve as he tried to exit. “Please, I need to see him.” His words became desperate. The more time he sat with the realization of his feelings, the stronger they grew. “Neville, please.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s not here,” Neville snapped. It made Harry lose his grip, stumbling back.
He wasn’t giving up. Shoving past Neville, he’d apologize for it later, he burst into the Slytherin Common room.
He saw Parkinson on of the couches. She looked practically dead, she wasn’t as put together as she usually was. Zabini was on the other couch, his leg bouncing at his side.
When they finally noticed his presence, Pansy was the first to break eye contact. She looked like she’d been crying, and for a while it seemed.
“I need to see Draco,” Harry restated for what felt like the millionth time. He was worried he was running out of time, or worse, he had no time left. “Please, I love him. I don’t know how I did realize it sooner, but I love him.”
Blaise and Pansy stare at him, the look on their faces neither shocked nor dismal. “You do?” Was what Harry heard from behind him, Neville stepping closer into the room.
“I do,” He felt as if he’d lost his power to speak. His words latched onto the inside of his throat and he was unable to get out everything he felt.
“Where is he,” He found himself repeating.
“He’s asked to be alone,” Pansy stated, “Said it’s easier if we keep our distance.”
“Is he in recovery,” Harry asked desperately, a lump caught in his throat.
“Recovery?” Blaise piped in, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. “What are you talking about?”
Harry could have sworn he felt a laugh bubble in his throat. A nervous one. “He got surgery, right? Or at least he will soon. He promised me he would.”
Pansy and Blaise looked at one another, and he saw Parkinson’s eyes grow wide. Harry’s stomach dropped, his throat burning. He looked between them, they seemed as if they were going to say something to one another but didn’t have the words.
When no answer came, Harry felt word vomit forming. He was pained that they acted as if he weren’t there, “What?”
“Potter, he can’t have surgery.”
This time it came out as a mere whisper, he couldn’t hardly push it past his lips. “What?”
“It’s too late for him to have surgery, he lost that opportunity almost a month ago, Neville stated.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“He was too sick to have surgery, it would have killed him,” Neville continued, “It was too late for that.”
“But he promised me he would get surgery,” Harry winced, “But I made him promise me that.”
His head was spinning. His knees buckled and hd felt as if he could barely stand on his own two feet.
“He lied to you, Potter,” Pansy shouted. “He didn’t want to put that burden on you.” Harry found himself grabbing onto a chair as she yelled, startled by her anger. “You have no idea what he’s going through, and what we’re dealing with. And I can’t even be fucking mad at you for it!”
Parkinson was beginning to cry, and all Harry could do was watch.
“It’s not your fault you don’t love him, but you can’t expect us to-“But I do love him!”
“But what if it’s too late, Potter,” Blaise turned over his shoulder, a bite in his tone.
Harry shook his head, it couldn’t be too late. He couldn’t live with this on his shoulders. He rushed over to Draco’s dorm, banging on it.
“He’s not here, Potter.”
“Then tell me where he is!” Harry felt unheard. He felt completely looked through. The same questions and desperate begs felt hoarse in his throat.
“We don’t know,” Pansy spit, her voice now with a twist of anger in it. Harry saw tears forming in her eyes, she looked as if she were going to cry again.
“Please,” Harry felt himself also on the verge of tears. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just tell me where he could be, any place you think he might visit.”
The trio went silent, all the while Harry’s skin crawled. He felt himself tugging and picking at the hairs of his arm, desperate for an answer.
“The rose garden,” Pansy said. “He spends a lot of time there.”
“We have a rose garden?”
“Potter, you’ve been attending this school for almost six years, you should know that by now,” Blaise folded his arms. But Harry hadn’t heard his remark, he was already hurrying out the door.
“You better hurry, he doesn’t have much time left,” Neville called after him, watching Harry race down the hall through the door he gave no bother in shutting.
Harry felt his heartbeat ringing in his ears, his thighs burning and his calves sore from running. His mind raced with him, dozens of thoughts flooding his brain. Was he too late, was Draco dead, would he find him in time? He felt sick, his heartbeat growing louder in his head. He was dizzy, he was growing tired, and worst of all he was scared. Harry could feel a lump burn in his throat, a weird feeling a tears pricking at his eyes. He needed to find Draco.
Struggling to find his way, after what felt like hours he finally managed to stumbled upon the rose garden. It was overwhelmingly strange, this new part of Hogwarts that wasn’t actually new at all. Only new to him, apparently. Large rose bushes resided along the sides of a stoned path. Harry found himself picking at his skin as he walked past roses in dozens of colors, red, pink, blue, black.
If Draco wasn’t here, he’d be out of options. Where else was he to look? He had no clue where Draco could be. But if he weren’t here, he could possibly be at the Quidditch field. Or in the library, he enjoys it there. Or maybe at the Astronomy tower. And if he really went far, he does enjoy that small cafe in Hogsmeade.. maybe he knew Draco better than he thought.
He felt like an idiot. He did love Draco. Much earlier than he realized. Earlier than he wanted to realize. Harry’s mind rushed with regrets, why had he waited so damn long? But it wasn’t his fault, right? He was scared. He’d never even been with a boy, let alone liked one before. He wasn’t even sure whether he was out. He was scared to be open about it. But Merlin that feeling, the butterflies he got every time he thought about him, he didn’t want to lose that. He couldn’t lose that.
He found himself running again.
Every corner he turned seemed to be a dead end, he felt like he was going in circles. Harry could barely see through the tears blocking his vision, his glasses seeming foggy. At this point he didn’t know whether Draco was even alive or not. It scared him to death, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.
Dashing around a section of pink roses, he tripped on a stone. Catching himself with his wrists as he fell he looked up and there he was. He looked a faint worse than death, dark circles under his eyes, paler than pale complexion. He was shaking, sitting atop a stone bench, tugging a winter coat around himself. He looked exhausted and in pain.
Scrambling to his feet, Harry found his legs moving for him. Now noticing him, Draco looked disgusted, and mortified as a matter of fact. He shakily stood up, prepared for more arguing.
“What are you doing h-“ A slam of Harry’s lips on his cut off his words. Harry wrapped an arm gently around Draco’s back as he deepened the kiss, his other hand cupping the blonde’s cheek. Draco found himself weak, his knees buckling as he melted into Harry’s touch. A whimper practically fell from his lips into Harry’s mouth as the Gryffindor grabbed his waist. Draco felt himself floating, a warm feeling of butterflies dancing in his stomach. Slowly but surely, the flowers attached to his veins began to fall, scattering on the ground. He felt healthy. He felt free. He felt alive again.
Draco pushed Harry off of him.
Finding his footing, he stammered. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I love you. I know that now,” Harry reassured, trying to take Draco back into his arms.
“You cured me.” Draco ran his palms over his arms, now realizing the flowers were gone. His chest felt light, his head clear.
Getting ahold of himself, he shook his head, “bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, Draco, you have to believe me.”
“You can’t just change your mind within a week-“You know it’s been longer than a week since we last talked-“I don’t want to hear it.”
Harry found a bite in his tone. “It’s my fault for what I said, and I can’t take that back, I know. But i think I’ve loved you for longer than I’ve realized, and Im sorry.”
“Potter, I really don’t know what to say.”
Harry looked at Draco, who now had tears in his eyes. The boy was trembling head to toe, biting his lip as to not begin to bawl.
“Let me make this right, please. You have to know that I love you, I saved you! What other proof do you need?” Harry protested, “Please, let me do things proper. Take you out on a date, something, anything. I can’t be without you, Draco.”
Draco stared at him, unable to say anything. He felt dizzy. His throat felt dry. “I- I don’t really.. I’m not..”
“You lied to me,” Harry said. He couldn’t help but say it, the thought was driving him mad.
“What?”
“You lied to me, Draco.”
“What are you talking about?”
Harry was angry. He couldn’t stop himself from yelling. “You told me you were going to get surgery and you couldn’t. Why would you lie to me?”
“Why does that matter now? You love me, don’t you,” Draco shouted back. The wave of emotions he was experiencing was tearing him apart.
“I do, but you can’t just lie about something like that!”
“What the hell was I supposed to do? Tell you I was going to die because you didn’t love me?”
Harry stared at Draco, his eyes flickering over him. He was crying, and Merlin that made him feel worse.
Draco wrapped his coat tighter around himself, wiping some tears off his cheeks. “I just need to be alone for a little while.”
Harry nodded. “Okay.”
He watched Draco walk off, feeling empty and out of place. Maybe this was for the better, maybe things would work out differently, maybe this was all over. Every thought in his mind was trying to be louder than the others, overwhelming him. “Draco!”
The blonde turned over his shoulder, “hm?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”