Pairing: Harry/Draco, and, yes, that means GAY couple. If you don't like that, well what are you doing here then? And if you still read the story and then flame me about it I feel sorry for you. I am a lesbian and I do not take crap from homophobic jerks.
Warning: I had just been in the head of a psychotic serial-killer(in the book I was reading) before writing this so sorry for any predatory actions from Draco/references to blood. Some Harry/Draco making-out and language.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings or meaning of the flowers. All I own is my pretty book where I get to be in all kinds of odd people's brains for a while.
Summary: Draco is pissed off and wants to give Harry a good punch in the face but it doesn't really work out that way, it never does.
AN: Well, my last Harry/Draco got no reviews. But after rereading it I realized that it was crap so I don't mind, this one is better however so I really hope someone leaves a review. Started writing it to get rid of some anger, my dad pissed me off. Not that he really did anything but I've got a really bad temper when I'm disturbed, especially when I'm reading(which I was, one of my favourite books). There's a few flowers and their meaning kind of keeps the story going. the meaning of the flowers are at the end so just check it up if it get's confusing. Sorry about the fluffy, corny ending, I hate that stuff but I can't help but put it in my fics anyways.
A Red Poppy
He was seething with anger, stomping down a corridor on the seventh floor long after darkness had settled over the castle. He could feel the blood pulsating through his temples, his heart beating so loud that if he had cared about something besides his anger ha might have been worried one of the portraits would wake up from the noise. He was keeping his jaws shut so tight he was starting to get a headache, but he didn't notice. He wanted to punch someone, take all that anger out on someone who would fight back, preferably Potter. Potter always fought back, and unlike everyone else who feared Draco, Potter didn't even feel the slightest bit intimidated by him. That's what he liked about fighting with Potter; he had never let Draco use him as a punching bag without at least getting in a few good punches himself. And those punches was exactly what Draco needed right now. He needed to hit someone, yes, but even more he needed to be hit back. He needed to be hit back, he needed someone to punch the anger right out of him so that he could go back to sleep and deal with another day of the flirtatious bitch also known as Ginny Weasley.
He rounded another corner and found another empty hallway, identical to the one he just left. No, not quite identical. Just as he rounded the corner one of the doors on the right hand side clicked shut. He stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily through his nose, his jaws still locked tight. He walked up to the door and stared at it, as if trying to make out who had just walked into the room behind it. He looked around, trying to identify his surroundings, and soon realised that the door led to a toilet. He made a quick decision that he was not going to find Potter and might as well use whoever was in there as a punching bag, it wouldn't soothe him completely but it would have to do for the night. Grabbing the doorknob, he twisted it and swung the door open with such force it hit the wall with a bang. The boy who had been standing by the sinks spun around on the spot, wand raised, and ready for battle with whomever it was that barged through the door. However, when the boy saw Draco, he lowered his wand and turned back to washing his hands with a simple, "Oh, it's you Draco."
Draco stood glued to the floor, then a smirk spread over his angry face, maybe he wasn't out of luck after all. The ebony haired boy in the room had put his wand back into his jeans pocket when he turned his bare back to Draco which meant that the blond could have his fistfight without worrying about Potter hexing him and leaving him unsatisfied. Draco briefly wondered why Potter had no shirt on but then spotted it hanging on the sink next to the one he was using. As Draco approached he felt the need for a fistfight morphing into a different kind of need but he grabbed Potter but the shoulders and pushed him up against the nearby wall just the same. "Really Draco, isn't this game getting a little old by now?" Potter moaned as his head hit the wall but Draco just shook his head, pressing the other boy harder against the cold stone. The need growing stronger with each heartbeat that pumped the blood through his veins, he moved closer and closer until the space between the two boys' bodies was gone. At this distance he could see the green-eyed teen's jugular vein pulsating rapidly and he bent forward, breathing in deeply that scent that was distinctly Potter, only to find it mixed with something else, something that definitely wasn't Potter. Draco felt the anger rise in him again and he attacked Potters neck, leaving a mark, a dark purple mark. He heard a gasp from the other boy and slid his face up to meet Potter's. Green eyes full of desire, desire undoubtedly reflected in his own silver orbs. He leaned in even closer and whispered, "Still think this is getting old, Potter?" The other boy briefly pushed Draco away, "You need to find a bloody way to get over this Draco or it's going to kill you." Draco growled, eyes clouding over with the thought of what caused his anger, "Fuck you Potter." At this Potter laughed out loud, leaving Draco a little confused; he wasn't supposed to laugh, it was rude. Potter noticed this and spoke again, "I thought you'd never ask." Draco only looked at him long enough to see him wink before he charged at him, capturing the ebony haired boy's lips with his own.
The next morning after breakfast, Harry and his two best friends were walking across the grounds toward Herbology, Draco Malfoy stepped up to the trio, smirk in place as usual. Ron grunted, waiting for some snide remark about his family, while Hermione sighed, seeing a fight coming. None of their fears came true however, as Draco simply ignored them and turned to Harry, "Potter, a word?" Harry nodded and told his friends to go ahead without him. Draco waited patiently until the Gryffindor's were out of earshot before speaking, "About last night…" but Harry cut him off, "It has to stop Draco, someone's gonna get hurt." "I know," Draco replied, "but I can't help it, it's just… I can't turn this feeling off." Harry smiled slightly at him, but soon frowned, "You have to try, please," he looked toward the greenhouses, "Class is starting, we'll talk later." Draco watched as Harry walked to where his friends were entering one of the greenhouses, and then turned around to walk back into the castle.
During lunch an owl came sweeping through the Great Hall, landing in front of Draco. It carried a single yellow Hyacinth and he picked it up, breathing in the scent of the beautiful flower. He shot a quick glance toward the Gryffindor table and saw Harry giving him a meaningful glare, he nodded slightly in response, noting the meaning of the flower. After finishing his lunch Draco went to the library, bringing the flower he sat down with a book on transfiguration in a black armchair. It took some time but after hours of research he found the spell he was looking for. He memorised it and left the library with a smile spreading over his face.
Late that night Harry finally gave up on his Potions essay and, after saying goodnight to his friends, he left the commonroom and walked up the stairs to the dormitories. He got ready to go to sleep and walked toward his bed. On top of his pillow lay three flowers. A red Poppy for the night before, a red Camellia for that morning, and finally a red Rose for always. Harry smiled, picked the flowers up, smelled them and then put them in a vase on his bedside table before climbing into bed. He fell asleep with a content smile on his face, Draco was going to try; he could feel it.
Yellow Hyacinth: Jealousy
Red Poppy: Pleasure
Red Camellia: You're a flame in my heart
Red Rose: I love you
Hope you liked it.
BlackCarnation