Flower Petals

-12-

The quidditch fields were freezing. A thin layer of frost lay on the railings surrounded the seating area, and the cold kept the spectators quiet. The teams hadn't come out yet, and the waiting elicited conversation throughout the crowd. The bleachers creaked under the weight of a hundred Slytherins, and one Hufflepuff.

Alstreomeria only found Draco by the top of his head. He was taller then most, and his iconic blonde was burned into her memory. She thought it better to not call his name, she wasn't sure what level of secrecy they were affording to each other. She didn't really want Harry or Ron to know, but know what? That she had started a friendship with a Slytherin that she rather liked? There is nothing shameful in friendship. Nothing at all quite frankly. 

She slid into the seat next to Draco. Without looking he smiled straight ahead of him, and rested his hand on top of hers, squeezing. His fingers were smooth and slid between hers. They sat patiently together and he hummed low in his throat to a tune Alli had never  heard. 

For a split second Alli saw in the back of her mind the towers of the feild falling to the ground, a swarm of boys on brooms flying into battle, and the stadium on fire, kindling by the means of the bleachers that sat on. It was like the dreams she'd been having but, clearer, louder. She had a vat of acid boiling beneath her heart, she felt sick and terrified, but just as she was about to turn to Draco,

the teams flew out, first Gryffindor. Swells of trumpets and violins spewed from the other side of the field. Fireworks burst above and banners fell, hanging from the towers. Harry came first, The spectators yelled 

'Potter! Potter! Potter!'

He waved, standing on his broom, bowing to the crowd. Alli would dare to say quidditch games were where Harry was the cockiest. 

The Weasley boys were next. George and Fred swung their clubs like they were aiming for heads. They waived to the stands at swooning girls, who Alli realized came from all different houses just to watch the twins. They blew kisses and made fake- smolder faces at them.

 
"Ladies!!" Fred said, "we've arrived!" George finished.

Ron made his way to the goals, smiling and waving, searching the crowd.

When his eyes finally landed on Alstroemeria it was like seeing her truly for the first time. A swarm of fluttering heat started in his stomach and filled his heart. His cheeks grew red and he smiled. The Weasley smile of course where the eyes squint just a tad. He waved vigorously at Alli, and she laughed waving back with her free hand. Draco squeezed her other harshly drawing an 'ouch' from Alli. He continued to stare straight ahead of him, not letting go of her hand. She broke eye contact with Ron to look at him. 

"Draco?" she asked "are you ok?" but Draco didn't answer, he just squeezed. She could tell that darkness was brewing inside of him. He was pale, sick, he seemed lost in his own thought, Alli's hand was his anchor.  "Draco?" she whispered this time, she brought her loose hand up and cupped his chin, forcing his head in her direction. "Look at me." his eyes snapped to hers. His face was freezing, but her hand transferred warmth to him, he nuzzled into it.

"You wouldn't understand." he spat. The words were so harsh that they came out like poison on his tongue. It conflicted with how he held onto her hand, and pushed his chin further into Alli's hand, he bit at her with his words, but his body ached for her, his heart needed her. He burned holes through Alli's head with his gaze. 

"There are some things i cannot tell you" he whispered.

"In all the time we've been friends, when have i not at least listened?" she said. She stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Draco, talk to me." He didn't talk though, Draco did not continue to talk. This is due to the fact that Draco found it incredibly hard to lie to his Honey Badger. He had only two secrets that he kept from her, he knew in order to shut her up he had to confess at least one. He also knew however, that if he began to talk that he would eventually tell Alstroemeria to look under his left sleeve, so he chose the other option. 

 He kissed her.

He kissed her like she was the antidote to the venom that ate away at his soul.

Draco threw his hands into her hair on the back of her head and smashed his lips onto hers with fury. He wasn't angry with her, not at all. Alstroemeria had been the one person it seemed, that had held him, thought of him, heard him. He did not hate Alstroemeria Potter, 

he loved her. Well he was sure he did. She was the one constant thing in his life, she was determined to be by his side though darkness and in light, she was determined to love him, and so he was determined to return the favor.

His lips moved against hers like a net around a bird, entrapping her. But a heat ran through her entire body, her cheeks flushed, her heart murmured. The voices around them drowned out, all she could hear was the sound of Draco's breathes when he separated from her. She felt his absence when he inhaled, and his devotion when they collided again.

 She pushed his chest, just like she had in the greenhouse, though she didn't know why. Draco fell apart in front of her like sand through a strainer. His body went slack and his eyes dark. The heads of the crowd, too interested in the game, had not been paying attention, but Ron had. 

He'd been playing quite wonderfully actually, he knew Alli was watching, and he wanted her to be proud of him. He was waiting for the right moment to fly down on his broomstick and sweep her off her feet. He was so excited he had goosebumps running down his back the entire game, he was sweating like a damn animal. He dared not look at her while he played, he knew he couldn't control himself, stop himself from flying down to confess to her, well to tell her, how big of a wanker he'd been, how big of an idiot! Merlin, he'd been a blumbering fool. But this! This would show her how much she was loved, how much Ronald Weasley loved her! His heart began to beat so fast he was sure he'd faint, just one look, he thought, just one look to keep him from absolutely embarrassing himself before the time was right, this was not the best decision for Ron's heart of course.

When he finally snuck a peak at her, her beautiful red curls were compromised by a pale, veiny hand. In this moment a bludger came crashing towards him, but he sat, looking at Alstroemeria, for any sign from her that she was not gone, gone forever just as he had arrived. He ran through a million plans of how to tell her he loved her the night before, but none of them mattered anymore. His heart stopped beating, falling into his stomach, and his ears rang. He watched Draco move against her like she was his. This was Ron's greatest moment of self hatred. He stopped breathing looking at her, 'please' he thought 'flower' he pleaded. 'plea-' 

Just as his heart had began to break, his jaw followed. The bludger hit Ron directly in the face sending him flying off his broom, cascading to the ground like a sack of wormwort. Harry, Fred and George abandoned their posts to race him to the ground but it was all for not. When Alstroemeria finally looked back up, hoping Ron was intently in the game, she saw an empty broomstick. Not only that, but when she looked back to Draco, he was swiftly walking away from her, and out of the stadium. He turned for a moment to look back at her, but she was standing over the railing, screaming for Ron.

Perhaps she'd lost them both. 

Draco walked out of the stadium, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he cried about something that wasn't the darkness he bathed in. Even that felt like a relief to Draco. Laying in bed that night, he thought about how lucky he was to have a normal problem, a teenage problem. Draco cried, because he loved Alstroemeria Potter, his partner in fear, his honey badger, his best friend, and she loved Ron, but he smiled, he smiled so wide that it burned the sides of his face, 

because Draco Malfoy was not sure until now that he could love, and counted himself grateful for the opportunity.

He dreamed of dark marks, of murder, of torture, he dreamed of his mother in danger, but when he directed himself into the place of his brain that had never seen shadows, he dreamed of yellow ribbons, potted plants, and bunny rabbits.