Flowers

Flowers

-January-

Hermione smiled tenderly at the small child as she gently kissed her forehead. Stroking her soft red curls, Hermione sat on the edge of her daughter's bed. As much as she loved Rose, it was these moments of tranquillity that Hermione looked forward to each day. Motherhood was hard work, there was no doubt about that!

It had been a long day and Hermione could do with a nap. She shifted her body so that she could lay down, curling around the child's small form. Her eyes closed briefly as she allowed herself ten minutes of pure peace and quiet.

Sighing, Hermione forced herself to get up. Her husband would be home any minute and would be hungry for dinner, of course. She headed in the direction of the kitchen, cursing Ron's incompetence in said place.

She reached for the doorknob, but found the door to be locked. Confused and a little worried, Hermione muttered an unlocking charm and with a wave of her wand, the lock popped open.

"Don't come in here!"

She breathed a sigh of relief when she caught a flash of red before the door slammed shut in her face. Relief soon turned to disbelief, which in turn, turned to anger. Hermione frowned as she attempted to bite back a sarcastic comment.

"Why?"

Ron grumbled on the other side of the door, but didn't reply. Hermione waited impatiently, tapping her foot. Finally, there was a shuffling of footsteps and Ron's head appeared around the door.

"Im doing something," he explained, red in the face. "Just go to bed, 'Mione."

"Fine!" she called over her shoulder as she stormed off. She heard him sigh and the door being closed. He could be so infuriating at times!

*

-February-

A knock at the door made Hermione wake with a start. She heaved herself off the sofa and stumbled to answer it.

"Yes?" she said, annoyed. "Oh."

On the doorstep was a single red rose.

*

-March-

It was Rose's second birthday. The Weasley-Granger household was full to the brim with relatives and close friends, all laughing and chatting for hours on end. A couple of years ago, and Hermione would have loved this. Now though, everything felt different. All she wanted was to have Rose to herself. She didn't even particularly want Ron to be there. It was a strange feeling and it scared her. It scared her that when she closed her eyes her dreams were no longer of his face, but of another. Yet she always woke up not knowing who this face belonged to. She felt like she knew who it was deep down, but she didn't really want to know. She wanted to be happy with Ron and Rose and the life she had but... everything was different.

Feeling claustrophobic, Hermione escaped to the garden. She settled herself in the lush, green grass and found herself wondering if she was doing the right thing. Surely if she wasn't happy in her marriage then she should do something about it, right? She should try to salvage what was left of it, work on it, improve it. But did she want to? Did she have the energy?

She remembered the rose that had been left on her doorstep. Who had put it there? Was it even for her? But surely it must have been? It could hardly be for Ron!

Clambering to her feet, Hermione decided to head back in to the party. She was the hostess, after all. She sighed as she looked into the living room. The party had only just begun by the look of things. Rose had long gone to bed, but now Ron was handing out Fire whisky! Things were very likely to spin out of her control...

There was a knock on the door, and glad for the distraction, Hermione went to answer it. Like before, there was no-one there, but a rose sitting on the doorstep. But wait, no, there was two this time! Hermione bent to pick them up and held them to her nose, smelling the beautiful aroma. A small piece of parchment fluttered to the floor.

"Oh. What's this?"

She grabbed it and opened it, excited.

My love,

I know that your favourite flower is the rose, hence the name of your daughter.

xxx

Her brow furrowed as she read and re-read the note. Whoever had sent this clearly did not know her very well at all. Ron had named their daughter Rose. It wasn't her favourite flower at all.

*

-December-

It had been ten months since the first flower. Each month one more than the last arrived on Hermione's doorstep. Today there had been a small bouquet of ten, tied with a single red ribbon. There had been a note, for the second time.

My love,

If you would like to meet, I suggest that you apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, Room Number twelve, immediately. I shall be waiting.

xxx

The note slipped from her hand as she twirled on the spot, and apparated.

"Hermione?!"

*

Hermione regretted her hasty decision the minute she arrived at Room Number Twelve. For there, sitting at the table was the person who she had dreamt of every night for a year and had not recognised. Draco Malfoy.

She stumbled back and felt the wall behind her. No wonder she hadn't recognised the face at first, his appearance had changed so much that she wondered if it was actually him. The boy she had secretly fancied for two years at the beginning of Hogwarts had long gone. In his place stood a strong and handsome man. His hair was no longer white-blond and slicked back, it was styled in a much more casual way. She realised that it was also darker, almost brown.

"Hello, Granger. I wasn't sure that you would come!"

Hermione glared at him and didn't respond. Her eyes lingered on a large, immaculately laid table, topped with a mouth-watering display of fine dishes. And there, right in the centre, were more roses.

"Admiring my room?" he asked with his usual smirk.

"Not exactly," she retorted. "More trying to figure out why the hell I came here!"

He laughed at approached her slowly. "Still as witty as ever I see!"

She frowned and moved further away from him. "Why did you ask me to come here? What so you want? Why do you keep sending me roses? Are you following me?"

Draco rubbed his temples and complained: "You ask too many questions!"

"I think I deserve to, thank you very much!!"

He nodded slightly and reached out to take her hand. She pulled away from his grasp and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling.

Draco rolled his eyes, but stood back. He gazed into her eyes, and she felt as if he was looking into her very soul. She shivered and broke eye contact.

"I will answer your questions," he whispered. "But first, let's enjoy this lovely meal..."

"No!" she interrupted. "No, No, No! Answer my questions, damn you!"

He looked a little taken aback by her outburst, but shrugged and inclined his head. "Very well. I asked you here because I find you attractive and my wife is away..."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"Please don't shout, Granger! Let me finish... Now, where was I? Ah, yes... My wife is away, so I though I would invite you here to... dine with me..."

She snorted and he raised an eyebrow, but carried on with his monologue as if nothing had happened.

"I sent you roses as a romantic gesture... I have not been following you, merely watching you... and that's about it!"

She pushed him hard in the chest and screamed: "MERELY WATCHING? MERELY WATCHING, HE SAYS! OH, THAT MAKES IT ALL BETTER!"

Draco sighed and took her by the arm. He lead her to a chair and sat her down.

"Well, if you find it so... hard to digest... why did you come here in the first place?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but was at a loss for words. Why had she come here?

"I'm out of here, and don't you even think of contacting me again!"

He shrugged and let her push past him. She apparated home and the last thing she saw was him smirking in the mirror. How very Malfoy of him...

*

Blinking back tears, Hermione knocked on the door. How stupid of her to think that she had a chance to start over. A chance to be loved again.

The door opened eventually and Hermione stumbled inside, past a bewildered Ron and crying Rose. She pulled her shoes off and yanked open the door to the dining room, barely noticing Ron's protests. Her eyes went as wide as saucers when she caught sight of the scene before her.

Laid neatly on the dinner table was a home cooked meal, a bottle of red wine and a vial of daisies. She turned around to face Ron with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Ron! This is perfect... Why?"

Ron's face was all flushed. "It's our anniversary, so I thought..."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I completely forgot, Ron, I'm so sorry, I..."

He smiled sheepishly and pulled out a chair for her. "It doesn't matter. You do so much for me and Rose, 'Mione. Today is all about you!"

Hermione grinned and sat down. She thanked her husband as he opened the wine and pulled her a glass. She felt so loved and so happy, that she barley gave a second thought to Draco Malfoy and his expensive flowers.

"Who needs Champagne and Roses when you've got your very own Daises at home?" she wondered, aloud.