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Wham!
The door hit Harry’s nose. He sighed, glancing down at the limp, orange blooms thrown back at his feet. He’d thought Severus liked lilies.
Slam!
Aconite and barberry blossoms drifted down into the mud. Apparently, the man didn’t appreciate potions ingredients. He frowned at the scuffed door.
Bang!
Harry’s head hit the closed door, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He glanced at the black roses. They looked perfect for the grumpy bastard on the other side of the door. He knew red flowers usually meant love, so he’d added bright red geraniums to the bouquet.
“You did what?” Neville’s gaze pinned him to his seat.
Harry swallowed thickly and explained again.
Neville lowered his head to the table.
He pulled the “Lexicon of Flowers” from his bag. “Memorize that before you go near a florist’s again.”
Harry flipped through the book.
Oh.
Harry once again approached the door to Spinner’s End, this time taking in the crocus and the guelder rose. He ran a hand over the hawthorn with a smile.
He knocked twice, and waited, holding the bouquet out.
Alyssum. Red Camellias. Purple Columbines. Ranunculus. Snowdrops.
Severus opened the door.
“Finally, my Brat.”
He pulled Harry inside.