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The Language of Flowers

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Second Round Prompt: Gardenia/Secret Love
Title: The Posy
Rating: T
Word count: 500
Warning/Tags: co-workers to lovers; mutual pining

 


 

“We've got to stop doing this!” said Hermione, brushing off her jeans.

 

“And what exactly is ‘this’?” Draco stood and offered an arm.

 

Hermione glanced around, frowning. They were in the remains of an enormous gardenia bush which had been their hiding place up until a quarter of an hour ago. They were supposed to be watching Mundungus Fletcher who was allegedly flogging hexed Muggle objects. The thing was, whenever Draco and Hermione spent an extended period of time alone, they always ended up… destroying the shrubbery. Hermione was at a total loss why that kept happening.

 

“Why does this keep happening?” she said out loud, plucking a white petal out of Draco's hair.

 

He watched her closely, his eyes a storm of swirling grey. “You tell me, Granger.”

 

Hermione froze. “Ugh,” she said finally, stomping off. Draco grinned and followed hot on her heels, but not before picking the single unblemished gardenia out of the bush they had just annihilated.

 


 

Less than a fortnight later, they found themselves, once again, hiding out in shrubbery. As fate would have it, another gardenia.

 

“Isn't this just lovely,” said Draco, sneering at the dirt staining his robes.

 

“Such a drama queen,” said Hermione, smiling fondly. “Hold on!” She squinted at something in the distance.

 

Draco edged closer, coming up behind her. “What is it?”

 

“Mind giving me some space?” His arm was brushing her chest.

 

“It's not as if there’s much room, is there?” said Draco roughly.

 

“How am I,” said Hermione, her cheeks a deep magenta, “supposed to concentrate if you keep groping me?”

 

Groping you?” Draco snorted, though a blush spread from his neck up to the tips of his ears. “I am not groping you. This would be groping you!” He brazenly put his wand hand on her front, raising an eyebrow. Hermione gasped, but then, lifting her chin in defiance, she put her own hand someplace else that had him whimpering.

 

 

The bush with its pretty white flowers did not survive the next fifteen minutes.

 


 

Five days later, Hermione and Draco found themselves in Harry Potter’s office.

 

“I must say, rarely have I been this disappointed.”

 

He frowned at the pair of them. Hermione’s hair was a single mess, twigs and leaves sticking out everywhere. Draco didn’t look any better. There were smudges of dirt all over his robes with a few blossoms decorating his shirt.

 

“Care to explain what’s gotten into you?”

 

Draco’s lips quivered and he looked to Hermione. Blushing, she studied her stained boots. “I’m sorry.”

 

Sorry?” Harry’s voice had become slightly shrill. “After months and months, that’s hardly enough anymore. I need an explanation. Please!”

 

Draco sighed heavily. Out of his robes, he fished a delicate posy. There were wild roses, lavender, and forget-me-nots, and also two sprigs of gardenia.

 

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes widening, watching breathlessly.

 

“You want the honest answer, I take it?” he said roughly, and, with great care, placed the bouquet onto the desk.