Work Header

The Language of Flowers

Chapter Text

First Round Prompt: Lavender/Admiration

Title: Drunk on Lavender
Rating: T
Word count: 497
Warning/Tags: Alcohol consumption. Drunk flirting.


Hermione scowled across the Three Broomsticks. 

‘Why the face, Granger?’

Someone slid onto the bench next to her, following her gaze to the bar where Ron and Lavender were an unsavoury display of hands and mouths. Even through her irritation, Hermione noted that this someone smelled very nice indeed. Belatedly, she realised the implications.

‘Go away, Malfoy.’

‘Why do you let it bother you so much?'

‘Let it bother me?’ Hermione snorted. ‘How could I not, considering…’ She gestured angrily at the sight before them. Lavender was straddling Ron's lap, giggling at every word whispered into her ear.

Malfoy made a strange sound, and Hermione finally tore her gaze away to look at him properly. He was staring at her in an odd, intense sort of way. Odder still, he was smiling. Oddest of all was Hermione’s reaction. Her heart started thumping wildly in her chest.

‘What's your problem?’ she demanded, grabbing her glass and gulping down so much Firewhisky she choked. 

‘I’m sorry to say but I can’t help but find it all amusing. Weren't you the one who broke it off in the first place?’

‘Doesn't mean I enjoy him going on the rebound not 24 hours later.’ Malfoy, the delicious-smelling bastard, chuckled. ‘Yes, yes, very funny. But I’d bet my Order of Merlin you'd feel differently if it was Astoria over there grinding on him.’

Malfoy snorted. ‘Wouldn't care a two-sickle toss if it was.’ 

He edged closer, and Hermione suddenly realised why his scent was so appealing. Beneath piney and citrusy notes, there was lavender. Gosh, how she used to love lavender… She chanced another glance at him. He was still watching her like that. Her cheeks heated and she averted her gaze, head spinning. Ron and Lavender over there, lavender swirling all around her… it was too much. 

‘I've got to go,’ she said, standing abruptly. 

‘Oi, Hermione!’ Harry came staggering towards them, a drink in one hand, the other wrapped around Ginny’s waist. ‘You're not leaving?’ 

‘I really should…’ 

Harry frowned at the collection of empty crystal glasses strewn across the table. ‘But you're not apparating. Mates don't let mates drink 'n apparate!’ He grinned, extremely pleased with his Muggle reference. 

‘You're not sober either, mister.’ Ginny said, giggling.

Harry shushed her, prompting Ginny to hold his mouth shut with her hands, which somehow ended with them snogging against the table. 

‘Great.’ Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘My cue to exit.’ She bent to collect her beaded bag. Unfortunately, five Firewhiskies consumed in under an hour didn’t come without consequences. She stumbled forward. 
‘Careful there!’ Malfoy caught her around the waist. ‘Tut tut,’ he said, his breath tingling on her neck which, embarrassingly, awoke butterflies in her stomach. ‘Mates don't let mates drink and apparate.’ 

She leaned into him, drunk on the olfactory cocktail of floral earthiness. ‘Mates?’ 

‘Mmmm…’ Malfoy hummed and another whiff of lavender sent all her objections flying out of the window. ‘Depends on how drunk you really are…'