Flowers

~9-Draco~

Harry works quietly, his face set in an expression of intense concentration. He's working on a complex spell Sprout taught us that waters multiple plants at a time. We've taken on two new plants since I came back, narcissuses and lilies.

"D'you think this one's doing alright." Harry frowns, poking at the lily's petals.

"Not if you're doing that." I scold, slapping his hand away from the flowers delicate petals. "Did you mess the spell up?"

"No!" he exclaims. "Nevermind it's fine."

"Here move it more in the sun," I say, shifting the pot into one of the dying rays of sunlight. Harry is silent for a bit, casting a spell to enhance the levels of sunlight on the plant.

"Did I ever tell you about the cottage I used to go to as a child over breaks," I said casually.

Harry shakes his head, barely listening to a word I'm saying.

"Mum was thinking about selling it. It's a fairly small on its own, but the land it's on goes on for acres. It's mainly fields and I never got why my father kept it around."

"Interesting," Harry mumbles, moving on to the narcissus.

"The house is a perfect place to raise a family," I say casually. "The land would be nice to have flower fields on and there's a little shop for sale in the main village. The people are nice and the local school is amazing."

Harry looks over at me, his mouth twitching. "Draco-"

"Wouldn't it be nice, once we're done with school, to just leave. Leave school, leave the memories, leave the magic and the awfulness it brought us. Start again in a town where no one knows who the Boy Who Lived is or who my father was and what he did." I say quickly and quietly. "We could open a flower shop."

"Start a family?" He suggests, walking over and hugging me. "That would be nice. But is it even possible? The press follows me everywhere. We're lucky Skeeter was found out and McGonagall banned all journalists from the school. Once we're gone though, the Daily Prophet won't be held back. It'll be the sixth year all over again!"

"That won't happen," I assure him. "I'll make sure of it."

"How?" Harry sighs.

"I'll threaten the editor!" I declare. "Then fake my death!"

Harry laughs and shoves me away. "You're ridiculous. Besides, I can't leave everybody. What about the Weasleys, and Hermione, and Luna, Ginny, and Neville? I'd miss them."

"Well, they could come to visit." I hug him again. "I wish we could do that now."

"We should finish school, Hermione would throw a fit if we dropped out." We sit in silence for a while.

"It's dark. We should head back to the castle." I say at last. Harry nods, turning away to pick up his bag. "Also, I owled Mum. I told her that we'd become friends and that you were coming over for Christmas Break. She was fine with it. Told me to tell you that she's looking forward to meeting you when you aren't dead."

He snorts. "You're right. She is different." He walks over and grabs my hand. "Let's go up to bed, I'm tired."

------------------------------------------------------------

Harry frantically runs around our room, pulling clothes from the various piles on the floor and setting them back down.

"Darling, you need to calm down," I call out to him from my seat on the bed.

"But I want to make a good impression." Harry cries. "You're coming out. I'm the first boyfriend she's seen you with."

I heave myself to my feet and walk over to him. "You're going to be fine. She'll like you, trust me." I kiss his forehead and wrap my arms around him.

He sighs and settles against me. "How can you be sure? She could hate me. I got you're father arrested. Twice."

"She doesn't," I say laughing. "She's grateful actually. You liberated her."

"I guess." He says doubtfully.

I run a hand through his hair and pull back slightly. "We don't have to leave until noon. Sit down and take a break."

He nods and walks over to the bed. He flops down with a groan. I lay down heavily next to him. "I love you." I murmur into his hair as I wrap my arms around him.

"You too." He mumbles.

We sit in silence for a bit until someone pounds on the door, calling out in Ron's voice, "Time for you two to go!"

Harry groans and rolls off of me. "I don't want to go."

"But don't you want me to come out to my mother?" I ask.

"She scares me." He whimpers pathetically.

"The Boy Who Lived is scared!" I gasp in mock shock, laughing when his hand connects with my stomach in a friendly whack.

"You know I hate being called that." He growls.

"Hey! Don't think I won't come in there!" Ron shouts from outside.

"Let us put some clothes on first!" Harry shouts back, smirking as Ron apologizes hastily and hastily retreats

"Now we should go," I tell him, scooping him up in one fluid movement.