flower crowns | drarry

seven

seven
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harry met draco in the greenhouse again that night.

he hadn't been able to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried, giving up after endless minutes of laying with his eyes closed and begging sleep to come. pulling on a sunset pink sweatshirt, he decided to see if a certain blonde was in the greenhouse again.

and he was.

wearing a different, pastel blue, sweater with a calico cat on the front. it must have been enchanted, because its pink nose twitched and its green eyes observed him curiously. he was, of course, weaving another flower crown, this time with pale pink baby's breath.

harry sat down, greeting draco with a small hello, receiving a small hum of acknowledgement in reply.

he gazed up at the sky, taking in the millions of stars lighting up the night sky and the crescent moon filling the greenhouse with soft light.

"why are you always making flower crowns?" he pondered, gentle words spilling into the cool air.

"my mom...she taught me...when i was younger." his words were slow, mouth lazily forming the words. "pansy and i...we used to run around...pretending we were faeries."

he wore a small smile, fond nostalgia shining in his eyes.

"how long have you known her? pansy, i mean."

draco breathes out a thoughtful sigh. "i've known her for...forever...we always had a lot in common."

"you dated her once, right?" harry recalled seeing them kiss once or twice a few years ago.

the blonde nodded, "in 4th year, but it was a mistake. we were both just so...desperate for attention and approval from our parents. we decided to break up mutually."

draco noticed harry's eyes softening in pity, and quickly changed the subject.

"you and the weaselette were...together.." he trailed off, glancing up at harry questioningly.

"yeah," he replied. "i love her... but we both realized that it was only platonic."

they sat in silence for a while, both lost in their thoughts.

"you've....changed.." harry muttered languidly.

"we all have."

a heavy, thoughtful quiet followed, before harry decided they needed some lighthearted conversation after all the heavy stuff.

"there's a hogsmeade weekend coming up."

draco hummed, "i don't normally go unless pansy or blaise make me."

"every time i go i feel like i'm third-wheeling," he chuckled, a hint of sadness in his downcast eyes. "i usually end up hanging out with neville and luna."

draco nodded. "weasley and granger are quite the couple."

"yeah," harry said through a yawn. "m' happy for them...i just..."

"yeah..i know what you mean."

strange that harry's former enemy was the one who understood him perfectly in this moment.

they talked a little more about hogwarts classes, previous hogsmeade visits, and run ins with strange ghosts in the castle before harry's words began slurring on his tongue.

noticing the boy's drooping eyelids and slowing breaths, draco halted and swiftly switched the conversation topic to that of flowers again.

"i'll tell you a little bit about poppies..."

"m'kay..."

draco couldn't help but smile at harry's sleepy mumbles. his warm, humming breaths mingling with the fresh, cool scent of moonlight and dirt.

"my mother used to take me to the cemetery once every year to pay my respects to my passed relatives...well, only the ones still considered part of the malfoy family...and she would lay poppies down in front of their graves. she told me that in the muggle world, they use poppies to honor dead soldiers. they're a sign of remembrance. but they also mean sleep, death, and peace. they were a symbol of sleep because the opium extracted from them is a sedative. it represents death because in greek and roman myths, poppies were used as offerings to the dead...which, i suppose, was passed on to us over the years. and then poppies used as emblems on tombstones symbolize eternal sleep....maybe i'll get you some poppies potter...you could use some more sleep..."

"so...could you..."

"sleepy?"

"mm..."

"some wizards use poppies in potions...they have some special qualities, like most flowers and plants do. red-flowered poppies are the unofficial considered the national flower of the albanians in albania, kosovo, and some other places. it's also the symbol of morpheus, the greek god of dreams..."