dramione one shots

28 | wildflowers

"What is this, Granger?"  Draco's arm jutted out from the crack in his bedroom door.

"It's a flower, Malfoy" Hermione said, whilst rolling her eyes. He held a white rose between two fingers, as if he could not stand to touch it.

" m' not wearin' it."

"Everybody will be wearing them to the wedding, Malfoy.  Tell me you're at least partway ready."

Draco's hand disappeared again, and the door shut.

"Malfoy?"  Hermione checked the time on her watch. 40 minutes to go.
Her and Draco were the last ones left in the hotel. She was glad of it, because it gave them a moment to themselves, but she did not think their precious time would be wasted with Draco complaining about a rose.  Harry wouldn't take kindly to them, his two best friends, arriving late to his wedding.

"Hmm?" came from Draco's room.

"Tell me you're dressed."

"Well..."

"What are you wearing'?"

"Nothin'."

Hermione felt the word run down her chest and send a shiver up her spine.  She didn't think Malfoy could be flirting at the moment, though.  She cleared her throat. "The wedding's in 35 minutes, Malfoy! You're gonna make me late!"

"Fine, I'll wear it, but I won't like it!"

"What's your problem with a rose, Draco?" Hermione asked, rising up on her toes impatiently.  The small bouquet of wildflowers in her left hand gave off the scent of fresh grass.  None of them were very fragrant or impressive, but they were pretty.  She had thought Draco would like them, but now she considered running back to her own room to get rid of any evidence that she had wanted to give Draco such a gift.

"It's just... so girly!  Blech!" he said.  The sound of a crash came from inside his room.  "I'm fine!  That was the chair."  Draco opened his door, and this time his head emerged.  "I'll just be a minute now.  What... what's that?"  He was looking at the flowers in Hermione's hands.

"Mmm, nothin',"  Thomas said, hiding them behind his back.

"Don't tell me that's Weaslette's bouquet."  Draco rolled his eyes.  "Pretty pitiful if you ask me."

Hermione pressed her lips into a firm line.  Draco could be so thoughtless.  Maybe he deserved a gift he'd hate.  "They're for you, actually."  She held them out.  "Wildflowers."

Draco straightened, leaning away from the flowers, as though they would bite him.  He had on his shirt and trousers, with the suspenders still hanging in loose loops over his hips.  His hair was perfect.

"They're for me?" he asked.

"Yes," Hermione stammered.  "I picked them for you before I heard how much you hated roses."

Draco stared sidelong at the bouquet and held out a hand tentatively.  His fingers closed above Hermione's.  He brought the flowers to his nose.  "They don't smell like much."

"No, but they're pretty," Hermione replied.  "But if you don't want them, that's fine too.  I won't be offended."

"Boys don't like flowers," Draco  retorted matter-of-factly, but he held onto his tightly.  He shrugged.  "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," She smiled at him then. She didn't move, thinking maybe Draco might lean in for a kiss.  He didn't. 

"Lemme just finished getting dressed," Draco replied and disappeared into his room again.

In another few minutes, he opened the door dressed in his best.  He held the white rose out to Hermione.  "Help me pin it on?"

"Of course."  She leaned forward and attached the rose to Draco's lapel, then checked her watch again.  "We've gotta get a move on, or we'll be late."

Draco nodded, took Hermione's hand, and pulled him down the hall.  Draco had left his door open, and Hermione caught a fleeting glimpse of wildflowers set in a vase on the windowsill.

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