𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐒𝐈𝐀| ✔︎

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓|𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

SUNDAY MORNING. When Harry woke to walk down to open the large door to the Entrance Hall, he would've never expected to see the majority of his housemates waiting on him. It was almost as if they were cheering. He flushed in bewilderment.

There stood Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Ginny, Neville, Luna, — you name it — all holding individuals of the same, fuchsia roses that had become very intimate to Harry. It was almost as if it were a part of him. He stood there in shock. More people started to gather around. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, even the Greengrass sisters all had one clutched in their hands. Harry's heart was racing. Had they all... picked the roses for him? How could they all know? He had only told Ron and Hermione.

"Ron," he gasped. "what is this?" Harry took the flower in awe, but is seemed almost pointless, as several several others were ceasing to give him one, until he had a full bouquet of fuchsia.

Ron opened his mouth to answer — however Pansy answered for him.

"Draco never planned this," she began, giving him her rose. "we did. He needs you to find him, Potter. I think he's made that pretty obvious." she smiled, but what truly took him away was the certainty and conviction in her voice.

"You've done so much for all of us, Harry." Luna added in a gentle voice. "Consider this our way of thanking you."

Harry stood there frozen. He felt like he was trembling. "But... how do I know this isn't just another dream?" he asked.

Blaise Zabini smirked down at him.

"Merlin, Potter. In what dream do we form an alliance with Gryffindor's'? This is all for you." he replied solemnly.

The wind outside was gentle, but blowing and swaying the trees frantically around like that of a small wind storm. Owls hoot softly. There is the smell of magical creatures in the air. The rustle of feathers, the creak of sun-warmed wood.

And, as he's learned from this division, both reality and dreams can be found in the smallest details of both a similar way: How Ron and Hermione are looking at him with the most accepting eyes, a smile across the room from Luna — who with the roses appears to be in her element, how the Greengrass sisters are giggling and how Fred and George are giving each other a knowing look. And the faint tremble of his hands and knee jitters. But by now, it's just instinct. He doesn't feel so nervous anymore. Because now he understands everything that he once felt robbed from. Now, everything he needs is there.

"Potter, he's waiting for you!" someone called, and then another, which made Harry snap back into reality. He clutched the bouquet tighter.

"How do I know where to find him?"

Both Hermione and Pansy looked at each other in union; smirking.

"Oh, you'll know," they said together, and gestured at the rose petals on the ground — leading down the stairs and onto the grass until they were almost hidden from view.

And giving the everyone one last, grateful and pleased look — Harry deserted, following the rose petals that almost looked as they went on for an eternity.

"Go get that ferret, mate!" he heard Ron shout from behind him, as many people were cheering him on as he took shaky steps, until they were all far back behind. If Harry looked up, he could see the clouds drifting like vials, reflecting against the refulgent bright orb of the sun.

Pushing past a few bushes and tree branches, Harry was in the meadowed field. He was taking a few shaky breaths — but all that eased immediately when he felt a pair of arms spin him around.

"Harry,"

And Harry looks up. Green eyes meet a dashing silver. Draco's arms are holding his shoulders, trailing down his arms. He doesn't say anything else, he rather pulls out another rose for Harry to take.

And that's when Harry realised that Draco wasn't wearing his ring. Harry pulled out his hand.

Draco Malfoy's Slytherin ring was fitted delicately on his ring finger, gleaming from the sun.

"Y—You," Harry tries to say, but he's too flooded with both awe and astonishment. His heartbeat is frantic.

He stared at Draco as his eyes dilated.

"Now do you understand, Potter?" he intertwines his hands and squeezes, not once taking his eyes off him. "I've quite literally given you my heart."

Harry turns to look as the sun is beginning to slip further down into the valley.

"I can't believe I didn't see the signs," he says.

Draco gives a breathy laugh. "If not Slytherin, definitely not Ravenclaw."

"I just can't believe it's you,"

"What can I say?" he lifts their joined hands to press a lingering kiss on Harry's hand. "I'm full of surprises."

Harry smiles. He runs his fingertips in Draco's soft hair. They're just so close together; it's overwhelming.

"Hey you, c'mere." he mutters, and takes Harry's jaw into his hands and lifts him up and kisses him with renewed fervor.

This was reality. Because it always was Draco. It always had been. Now, he felt complete. Nothing was missing anymore, but it was both rather given.

And now they're laying on the smooth, tall grass of the green canola field. Harry stares at Draco's silhouette for a while, and watches as he turns to glance at the orange and yellow of the horizon that's now breaking dawn. Harry finds himself trying to pinpoint the exact moments he fell in love with Draco Malfoy.

⊱ 𝐟𝐢𝐧 ⊰