Chapter One
"Message?"
"To Gin – Happy Anniversary. Yours Always, Harry."
Neville scribbled the message down on a small card and showed it to Harry, "Is the spelling okay?"
Harry looked at the card and nodded. Neville popped the card into a small envelope and wrote 'Potter' on the front before slipping it into his pocket.
"What kind of flowers are you after?" he asked.
"Tiger lilies," smiled Harry serenely. "Same colour as her hair."
Neville nodded approvingly and set about putting Harry's order together. A lot had transpired in the four years since the boys had left Hogwarts; soon after the war had ended Harry and Ginny had gotten married, as had Ron and Hermione and a string of their other old school mates. Some were still happily married – like Harry and Ginny – others less so. Neville, meanwhile, had opted for a different kind of adventure; travelling the world with his best friend Luna. She, in search of the fabled crumple-horned snorkack, while Neville documented and collected rare and beautiful plants to take back home to his Herbology lab. Once he had returned home, Neville had fulfilled one of his lifelong ambitions by opening up his own flower shop — Augusta's Florists — selling both Muggle flowers and exotic magical hybrids of his own creation for all occasions.
Neville quickly assembled Harry's order and secured the small card atop the bouquet. He handed it over to Harry and asked, "What do you think?"
"Yeah brilliant," he smiled pulling out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
"Five Galleons and nine Knuts, please," replied Neville.
Harry counted out the coins and handed them over to Neville, "How have you been keeping anyway? It's been ages since we last saw you."
Neville shrugged, "I'm doing well enough. The shop keeps me busy."
"You'll need to come over for dinner soon," Harry suggested.
"Yeah, that'd be nice," smiled Neville.
"Gin was thinking of having a dinner party in a couple weeks' time," Harry continued. "Get a catch up with the old crew."
"Oh?" asked Neville. "Who's all going?"
"Ron and Hermione, Seamus and Dean, Luna and Rolf, George and Angelina…" Harry rattled off.
"An awful lot of couples are going," Neville pointed out stiffly.
"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry murmured then shrugged. "You're more than welcome to bring a date if you like?"
Neville snorted, "I don't think that's likely, but I appreciate the offer."
Harry frowned, "Why not?"
"Running a florists doesn't allow me much of a social life outside of these four walls," he sighed. "I'll still come anyway. It'll be good to catch up with everyone."
Harry smiled again, "Great, I'll owl you the details. If you do find a date, they're welcome to join us."
"Appreciate it, Harry," said Neville waving him out of the shop. Harry waved the bouquet at Neville and exited the shop, the doorbell tinkling as he opened the door and stepped out onto the busy street.
Neville sighed and slouched into the wicker chair behind the counter. While he'd appreciated Harry's offer, Neville was growing sick and tired of being the only third wheel at all of his friends' dinner parties. Not that he was desperately searching for the great love of his life — sure, he'd had a few exotic encounters during his travels around the world and a couple boyfriends here and there, but nothing that ever lasted more than a few dates. He was always too busy wrapped up in his work to have time for romance. And if he were perfectly honest with himself he'd never met anyone he'd actually wanted to really be in a relationship with. His commitment to his plants and flowers had always been more fruitful than any relationship he'd ever had.
That said, it could get very lonely in the shop and at home. It would be nice to share his life with someone who appreciated the beauty in the same things he did.
"Meow."
A large white lump of fur hopped gracefully onto Neville's lap and purred loudly. Neville smiled and scratched his pet kneazle behind her ear.
"Maybe you could be my date for the dinner party, eh Tallulah? Not like I've got suitors lined outside the door," he joked. The kneazle yeowled happily and swished her lightly plumed tail against his leg. Well at least I have Tallulah for company, he thought sadly, knowing full well that a pet was no substitute for a person.
The shop bell tingled to announce the arrival of another customer. Tallulah hopped off of Neville's lap as he rose to his feet, his helpful smile already plastered on his face as a tall, dark haired man approached the counter. He was vaguely familiar but Neville couldn't place him, though he thought he'd be handsome if he wasn't so grim-faced.
"Morning," said the man roughly.
"Good morning sir," replied Neville brightly. "How can I help you today?"
"I need flowers," he muttered.
Neville suppressed a smirk, "Well then you've come to the right place, sir. What type of flowers are you looking for?"
The man shrugged, his hands stuffed deep in his jean pockets, "What kind do you get someone if you're trying to apologise to them?"
Neville thought for a moment, "Then I'd recommend hyacinths and tulips. But if it's for a significant other you can't go wrong with roses."
"Roses then," the man grunted pulling out his wallet.
"What colour?" asked Neville.
"What?" asked the man distractedly.
"What colour of roses would you like?" asked Neville a little more firmly.
The man shrugged, "Whatever. Red, I suppose."
Neville wasn't all that surprised that this man had managed to rub his significant other the wrong way if this was his general demeanour. Neville forced a smile and asked politely, "What message would you like on the card?"
The man thought for a moment, "Just say, 'Please forgive me, I miss you. Owl me. Theo.'"
Neville scribbled the message down and showed it to the man to check the spelling. He nodded in approval then asked, "You do deliveries?"
"Yes sir," Neville nodded. "Who am I delivering the flowers to?"
"Malfoy," the man replied gruffly. "Draco Malfoy."
Neville's hand paused over the parchment for the briefest of moments then he scribbled the name down, although there was really no need to. He wasn't going to forget this any time soon.
Neville smiled, "Including the cost of the flowers and delivery, the total comes to nine Galleons and seventeen Knuts, sir."
The man counted out the money and tossed it carelessly onto the counter. Just then Tallulah hopped on to the counter and hissed at the man.
"Tallulah, no!" Neville scolded scooping the cat up in his arms, "Sorry about that sir, she's usually very good with customers."
The man glared at the kneazle as it hissed and swiped at him. He shrugged and said thickly, "No problem. When will the flowers be delivered?"
"I'll get them sent out this afternoon," Neville huffed struggling to keep the kneazle restrained; it was desperate to escape his grip and launch itself at the man. The man seemed to sense this and quickly left the shop without another word. As he slammed the shop door shut behind him Neville dropped Tallulah. She landed gracefully on her feet and stared up at him placidly. Neville glared at her.
"What was that all about?" he asked her hotly. She just swished her tail and looked up at him blankly. Neville rolled his eyes and warned her, "If you're going to be attacking customers you'll need to stay up in the flat during the day."
The cat yeowled in displeasure and stalked off to hide in the store cupboard. Neville set about getting Malfoy's order ready; a simple bouquet of red roses with smatterings of baby breath tied together with a long, black ribbon.
Draco Malfoy. There was someone Neville never thought he'd cross paths with again. As he prepped the order he thought back to what Malfoy had been like during their school days. Those weren't fond memories, but he was curious how he had changed, if at all, in the years since. Neville certainly wasn't the same awkward schoolboy he was during their school days. The war and his travels had instilled a lot more confidence and self-esteem in him. He wondered if Malfoy had grown up any too.
Doubt it, he mused darkly.
Once the bouquet was ready, he instructed his grey owl to take the bouquet and card to Malfoy Manor, but warned it not to expect a tip, promising to give her a special treat when she got home. The rest of the day was uneventful and Tallulah seemed to have taken Neville's warning to heart because she behaved in a perfectly respectful cat-like manner for all of his other customers. Just as Neville was about to close up the shop for the night, the doorbell tinkled and he turned, his shop-front smile already fixed on his face. His smile quickly fell as he saw none other than Draco Malfoy storm up to his counter with the bouquet of red roses in his fist.
Neville jumped a little as Malfoy slammed the flowers down on the counter with such force that the head of one of the roses fell off and rolled across the table.
"Longbottom?" he asked incredulously. "Did you deliver these flowers to my house?"
"Y-yes," he stuttered. For a moment he felt like the same bumbling, insecure schoolboy again under Malfoy's furious gaze. "Is there a problem with the flowers?"
"Problem?" he spat. "Bloody right there's a problem. The man who sent these to me is an absolute cretin who won't take no for an answer!"
Neville wasn't entirely sure what Malfoy was talking about. He looked absolutely livid, with his teeth bared and his blonde hair falling all over his face, brushing against his usually pale cheeks which were now flushed pink. Although this was the first time they'd seen each other since their schooldays, he couldn't deny that Malfoy was looking fit. Very fit, in fact, even if he was in the throes of a rage. Neville felt a slight stirring in his crotch and immediately admonished himself, now is not the time for Merlin's sake.
"I want to make something very clear Longbottom — if he comes back here and tries to deliver more flowers to my house, you tell him to fuck off!" he yelled.
"Well, I can't really swear at customers…" Neville protested weakly.
"I don't care!" cried Malfoy slapping his palm on the counter. "You'll just make an exception in my case! It's no less than he deserves!"
Neville cleared his throat and said lightly, "I'm sorry if the flowers were not to your satisfaction. If you would like to fill in one of our customer satisfaction cards we'll endeavour to improve our service in the future."
Neville slid a piece of parchment across the counter towards Malfoy. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Are you taking the piss?"
"No," he replied.
Maybe a little bit, he thought.
Malfoy straightened up and ran his hand through his hair, breathing hard, "You know what? Forget the message," he slammed a fistful of Galleons on the counter. "I would like to place an order, please."
"Uh, sure," said Neville slowly. He didn't like where this was going, "What kind of flowers would you like?"
"What would you send to someone who is an insensitive, useless prick?" he growled.
Neville thought for a moment, "I recommend tansy, foxglove and meadowsweet."
Draco huffed, "And what flowers would you send to someone who can't keep their dick in their trousers?"
Ahh, thought Neville. The Galleon dropped.
"I'd probably send back the flowers he sent you with the flower heads cut off. That'd get the message across," Neville mused. "Alternatively I'd send yellow carnations."
"Yellow carnations are fine," Malfoy grumbled.
Neville nodded, "What type of bouquet would you like?"
Malfoy's eyes glinted maliciously, "I don't want a bouquet. I want a floral tribute that spells out my message."
"Like the type you get at funerals?" asked Neville frowning.
"Exactly," he smirked.
"Okay," said Neville surprised, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. "What would you like the message to read?"
"Go fuck yourself, Theodore," he spat viciously.
Neville paused before writing it down and warned, "You know that's going to be very expensive."
"Money is no object!" cried Malfoy pounding his fist on the counter again, causing the dismembered rose head to bounce and roll onto the floor.
"I appreciate that but…perhaps something a little shorter would be equally effective?" he suggested cautiously. "And it'll be less of a dent in your pocket?"
Malfoy thought for a moment then relented, "Alright, just have it spell out 'fuck you'. In capital letters, please."
"Okay," said Neville scribbling down the message, "F-U-C-K-Y-O-U."
Neville showed him the card to confirm the spelling was correct. Malfoy nodded curtly and spat, "Perfect."
"Is it for someone special?" asked Neville lightly trying to suppress a grin.
"Very funny, Longbottom!" shouted Malfoy. "Just get my order ready, I'm in a hurry!"
"Alright, but it's going to take about half an hour to get it finished," Neville warned.
Malfoy groaned, "I can't wait that long!"
"Well either you wait or you buy something smaller, because that's how long it's going to take," Neville explained coolly.
Malfoy glared, "I could easily take my business elsewhere."
"Fine," he shrugged. "You can take your business round to Floriblunders if you want, but they'll tell you the same thing — it's at least a thirty minute wait for such a large order."
"Well are they cheaper than you?" bit Malfoy.
"Yes," he admitted. "But I'm better."
Malfoy hesitated then slumped down into one of the customer chairs by the shop window, arms crossed and fuming. Neville took that to mean that he was to proceed with the order and began to construct the large, obscene floral tribute.
Malfoy watched Neville silently for a while. Neville felt his skin prickle under his intense gaze, but he kept his composure and focussed at the task at hand.
"So how come you're stuck in a flower shop, Longbottom?" asked Draco huffily. "I thought you were out travelling the world looking for weird plants."
"I'm not stuck here Malfoy," said Neville defensively without looking up. "This is my business, I chose to do this."
"Really?" he drawled looking about the shop with mild disdain. "You chose this over the rest of the world?"
"Yes I did," he replied hotly. "You got a problem with that?"
"No," Malfoy shrugged nonchalantly. "Just making polite conversation."
"Well, you're making conversation, I'll say that much," Neville retorted.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and was silent for a few moments before speaking again, "Did you not enjoy travelling?"
"I did enjoy it," replied Neville without elaborating.
"So how come you came back here?" he drawled. "Get lost and stumbled back here by accident?"
Neville slammed his shears down on the counter and glared at Malfoy, "My grandmother died last year while I was abroad. I had to cut my trip short to come back to take care of my parents."
"Oh," Malfoy's cheeks flushed pink and he averted his gaze. "I didn't realise."
"Well, now you do," Neville retorted, picking up the shears and resuming his work.
Malfoy was quiet again but only for a few moments, "How come you didn't name the shop after yourself?"
"You're awfully chatty today, aren't you?" Neville pointed out.
"I'm just trying to be polite!" Malfoy bit, looking affronted.
"That'll be a first," Neville muttered darkly.
Malfoy glared, "Do you talk to all of your customers like this?"
"Nope," Neville snipped. "Just you."
Malfoy opened his mouth as though to say something but closed it and slumped back into his chair looking despondent. Neville glanced at Malfoy and paused — he looked as though he were about to cry. His stomach twisted unpleasantly with guilt at how short he had been with him before. It occurred to Neville then that perhaps Malfoy's angry outbursts disguised the fact that he was really hurt by whatever this man had done. Not that he should care, Malfoy was a prick. He glanced at Malfoy again and against his better judgement felt more sympathetic than annoyed at the man. He sighed and put down his shears and flowers and conjured two cups of tea. He passed one of the cups to Malfoy who looked at it uncertainly for a moment before accepting it.
"Thanks," he muttered quietly. Neville sat in the chair next to Malfoy and they drank their tea in silence.
"Augusta was my grandmother's name," Neville explained. "I named the shop after her."
"Oh," said Malfoy quietly. "That's nice."
"I thought she'd like it," he smiled sadly. He glanced at Malfoy, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," replied Malfoy automatically. Neville raised an eyebrow at him and his shoulders sagged, "Well, I've been better."
"Do you…want to talk about it?" asked Neville tentatively.
"What's to say?" he shrugged, staring fixedly at his cup as he spoke. "Two years I've put up with his shite. All his lies and broken promises. We'd fight and break up, then he'd apologise and I'd be stupid enough to believe he'd changed and take him back. But this time…this time was the last straw."
Neville shifted uncomfortably. It was a surreal situation to be in, sitting here with Malfoy of all people pouring his heart out to him.
"You know at one point I really thought we were going to get married," Malfoy confided in him. "But I think I've known for a long time that this was going to end badly. I just tried my best to ignore it for as long as possible. My mother still loves him of course — if only she knew half the shit he got up to, it'd be a different story."
"Maybe you should speak to your mother about it then," Neville suggested taking a sip of his tea. "She'd make for a more sympathetic ear than me."
Malfoy pulled a face, "It's not really the sort of subject one speaks to their own mother about."
"Then why are you speaking to me about this?" asked Neville curiously.
"Because I've already talked the ear off of Pansy on more than one occasion and she won't want to hear it again," Malfoy admitted, then he shrugged. "And…I suppose you're easy to talk to."
"Oh," replied Neville in surprise. "Aren't you worried I'll tell people what you said?"
Malfoy shrugged again and gave a small smile, "Even if you did they'd never believe you."
"Fair point," laughed Neville softly.
"Meow."
Without warning Tallulah hopped onto Malfoy's lap. Malfoy jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of the kneazle which was kneading his lap to make it more comfortable to settle down on.
"Tallulah no," groaned Neville setting his cup down on the small table in front of him. "Sorry, she's been an absolute menace today. I'll get rid of her."
"No it's fine," said Malfoy giving the kneazle a pet. "I don't mind."
"You like kneazles?" asked Neville surprised.
"Oh yeah, I had one when I was little," Malfoy was scratching Tallulah behind the ears and she was purring happily. "She's quite unusual in her appearance isn't she? Usually they're spotted or striped, I've never seen a pure white one before."
"Yeah, I don't know where she came from. She was my grandmother's originally — she bought her to keep her company while I was away travelling," Neville explained.
Tallulah was flipping her tail up and down Malfoy's leg, nuzzling into his outstretched hand. Neville watched them curiously for a few moments. It was strange enough to discover that Malfoy was a cat person, stranger still that Tallulah seemed to have taken a shine to Malfoy. He had expected her to have clawed him half to death by now, yet here she lay, outstretched on the man's lap purring like a kitten.
After they had finished their tea Neville vanished the cups and slipped back behind the counter to complete the floral arrangement while Malfoy continued to absentmindedly pet Tallulah.
"So what about yourself?" asked Neville. "What have you been up to since we left school?"
"Well, I went back to Hogwarts to repeat my seventh year," he explained.
Neville nodded, "I know a few people who did that, but Hermione said it wasn't the same when she returned."
Malfoy nodded sadly, "I needed to go back to get my N.E.W.T.S. but everyone was still trying to deal with the war ending. The atmosphere was pretty tense."
"Are you glad you went back though?" asked Neville.
Malfoy shrugged, "I suppose. Got enough qualifications so I could join the Aurors."
Neville raised his eyebrows surprised, "You're an Auror?"
A small smile creeped along his lips, "You're not the first one to look surprised by that. My father thought it was an awful idea, but I wanted to challenge myself. And honestly, I thought I'd be good at it."
Neville huffed, "Plenty of experience in the company of Dark wizards."
"Exactly," agreed Malfoy. "I'll never be the clean-cut poster boy of the department like Potter is, but I can bring certain skills and experience to the job that he can't. They need people like me there whether they like it or not."
"Very true," admitted Neville. "You enjoy the work?"
"Sometimes," he shrugged. "There's never a dull day at least."
They chatted for a long while after Neville had completed the order, mostly about work and what they had done in the years since they had left school. Malfoy seemed quite keen to hear about Neville's adventures abroad, and Neville enjoyed relaying the stories to fresh ears. They were getting on so well that Neville didn't even notice that the street lights on Diagon Alley had come on and the shop was shrouded in darkness. He swished his wand and the candles illuminated the shop in a soft, warm light. Malfoy looked a lot calmer now than he had done earlier. Neville couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked now, his sharp features softened in the dim candlelight.
Shaking his head clear of those distracting thoughts he glanced at his watch and laughed, "I was supposed to close the shop over an hour ago."
"In that case I should get my order for free since you've made me wait so long," drawled Malfoy, but there was a hint of teasing in his voice. Neville held up the finished product for Malfoy's perusal. It really was obscene looking — acidic purples, reds and yellows spelt out the foul greeting.
"It's wonderfully vulgar Longbottom, well worth the wait," he nodded in approval and pulled out his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
"Twenty three Galleons and seven Sickles," said Neville politely. Malfoy began counting out the money and Neville glanced at the floral arrangement. "So you're still going through with it? The delivery of the flowers?"
Malfoy paused. He looked between the floral arrangement and Neville then shrugged, "I might…I'm not sure now. My rage has tempered somewhat from earlier on."
Neville sighed, "If you're not sure about sending them, then I wouldn't if I were you. You'll probably regret it."
"Probably," he muttered. "Even though he deserves it."
"If he's as bad as you say he is then he doesn't deserve the time that you're musing over him," Neville argued.
Malfoy sighed heavily and ran a hand through his white-blonde hair and it flopped to one side. Neville felt his stomach do a small backflip as Malfoy's hair splayed over his face, giving the normally perfectly put-together man a just-shagged look. He said nothing for a moment, deep in thought. Then he sat the money on the table and grabbed the floral tribute muttering, "Thanks for the flowers, Longbottom."
He turned to leave without another word. Opening the door he paused and looked over his shoulder at Neville with a serious expression, "If you tell anyone I just said that to you I'll vehemently deny it."
Neville laughed softly, "Your secret's safe with me."
The corners of Malfoy's lips quirked a little like he was going to smile, but he looked like he was forcing his face to remain passive, neutral. He gave Neville a curt nod and exited the shop.
Neville watched after Malfoy until he disappeared out of sight. Tallulah hopped onto the counter and nudged Neville's hand.
"It's been a very strange day, Tallulah," he mused while he clapped her. Seeing Malfoy after so many years, and actually having a civil conversation with him...Hell must have frozen over. Neville locked the shop door and closed the blinds, ready to head up to bed. His eyes lingered on the pile of unused flowers and wiring he had used to make Malfoy's floral tribute and was struck with an odd compulsion. He gathered up another frame and began constructing a brand new floral tribute, feverishly adorning it with Moly flowers, aconite, miniature umbrella flowers and carnations and adding a smattering of bewitched fairies around the edges to illuminate it. When he was done he took a step back and smiled mischievously.
"Perfect," he muttered.
He took the floral tribute which read 'FUCK OFF' and placed it with pride of place in the shop window for all the world to see and enjoy.
·
Neville lay in bed that night mulling over his and Malfoy's strange reintroduction. Even though Malfoy was a horrible, bullying prat at school, Neville wasn't blind to his good looks. He had secretly harboured a crush on Malfoy during their school days, though his attraction had always been laced with shame and guilt. He thought he'd left those complicated feelings behind after they'd left Hogwarts, but they hit him anew today. But Neville was no fool — Malfoy's looks hadn't changed much, and he very much doubted his personality had either, even if they had just spent a surprisingly fun evening together. Neville mentally berated himself for thinking about the man, but his mind continuously returned to the image of Draco smiling and brushing his long, blonde hair through his fingertips.
Nothing wrong with looking though, he thought tentatively. Neville unconsciously brushed his fingers gently over the outline of his growing erection, his breaths growing deeper as his imagination flitted between brief sexual encounters he'd had during his travels. Only this time each man morphed into a tall blonde with piercing grey eyes, smirking over him.
Neville sighed and gave in. Pulling his boxers passed his thighs, he grasped his cock in his hand, giving it a few quick strokes. He closed his eyes and resigned himself to imagining being on top of Malfoy. Neville's cock twitched at the mere thought of feeling all that taut, pale skin against his own body, of Malfoy wrapping his legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He imagined the lust in Malfoy's steel-grey eyes as he tilted his head back and moaned Neville's name, his white-blonde hair splaying over the pillow. He felt lightheaded imagining with each upward thrust of his hips he was taking Malfoy deeper…
Neville's body tensed. He gave a deep groan and pushed into his fist a couple more times as he came, pulsing over his own fingers and stomach. Feeling the tension leave his body he quickly spelled away his release and sighed, a combination of post-orgasmic bliss and weariness at his abysmal taste in men.
It wasn't the first time Neville had wanked over Malfoy, and it wouldn't be the last. He told himself that in a couple of days he'll have forgotten all about him again. It would probably be another four years before their paths even crossed again. Neville tried not to think too much on it.