Chapter Text
Each morning after his initial visit to the flower shop, Harry etched away the day in his calendar with his quill, waiting for Sunday to roll around.
He wasn’t sure why he wanted to visit the flower shop again so badly, but when it finally was Sunday, Harry couldn’t help but be excited as he apparated to muggle London.
He strolled down the street until he came across the familiar sign, Fleur de Jardin. When he walked inside, the bell rang and Malfoy turned around from behind the counter. “Back again Potter? Seems like you’re just gagging for my company,”
Harry laughed, he hadn’t felt so light all week. He walked up to the counter, “what’ll it be this week? For another date I presume,” Malfoy questioned.
“Yeah, I think I’ll get the Petal for Your Thoughts again, the bouquet turned out brilliantly last time,”
“I’m aware of my unparalleled skills Potter. Begin whenever you’d like,”
“Well, this Friday I went out for drinks with some of my coworkers, but the entire time I felt like I was separated from them, like I couldn’t socialize or have a conversation, as if there was a barrier between us. I think it has to do with the war, I just don’t know how to go back to feeling normal like everyone else has,”
Harry looked to Malfoy, he was deep in thought, likely debating which flowers to chose. He had done it too, returned to some sense of normalcy after the war. How had he done it? Harry needed to know. “Take you for example, you especially were effected by the war, you hurt so many, and yet, here you are, completely moved on with a new, fulfilling life as if it never happened. How are you able to do that but I can’t?”
Draco didn’t look angry as Harry had expected, instead, he looked to be genuinely contemplating Harry’s question. He began to walk around the store and pick up flowers as he responded: “I didn’t move on, it’s still hard to wake up every morning thinking about my past actions, and when I have conversations with muggles who know nothing of who I am or what I’ve done, I feel dirty, like I’ve created a fake identity I should be ashamed of.
But what people don’t understand is that I’m not proud of what I did during the war. I wasn’t excited to hurt the other students at Hogwarts or use the unforgivables. My father foolishly thought that Voldemort regarded us as his closest allies, but we were disposable pawns, just like everyone else.
Voldemort told me he would murder my parents if I didn’t do as he asked. He could kill my father, honestly I might have been better off, but my mother-“ he cut himself off as his voice broke, picking up the last flower he needed and returning to the counter.
“So no, I didn’t move on. I tried to, honestly I did. I wrote letters to every teacher and student who attended Hogwarts and apologized for what I did; some were nonspecific, while others went on until I ran out of parchment.”
Malfoy had written letters? Harry thought. He had never received one, or at least he hadn’t seen it. After the war, it seemed like every witch and wizard in the world needed to thank him, so his post box began to over flow with letters. Harry started to not read them, only picking up ones form his friends. But it seems that he had missed a pretty important one from Malfoy because of it. “I think I lost yours before I got a chance to read it,” Harry said.
“It’s fine, honestly I didn’t do it for forgiveness, and I wasn’t surprised by how many hexed letters I was sent back.”
Malfoy finished organizing the bouquet and turned to hand it to Harry, “I think there’s a lot I don’t know about you Malfoy.”
“It’s better that way.”Draco responded, and before Harry could ask what he meant, he began naming each one of the flowers and describing what they represented.
“So this one is butterfly weed,” he said as he pointed to a plant that was was composed of bundles of small, bright orange flowers. “It represents solitude, and this one is a yellow chrysanthemum,” the chrysanthemums were large and vibrant, taking up most of the bouquet, “it symbolizes being overlooked or ignored, and this one is a yellow rose. It’s for new relationships, any type, not just romantic,”
“They’re stunning, thanks again Malfoy.”
Harry said as he admired the bright yellow bouquet.
“Well it’s my job, so it’s not like I’m doing you a favor,”
“For the answer too I mean, it was very helpful.” Harry responded.
Draco didn’t say anything to this. He could only stare idly as Harry paid and left, leaving him wondering what had gone so wrong in their lives that Draco was giving life advice to Harry Potter.