Hello All! This is my first Harry Potter post on this user name- I think the one I was under before was "ThankGodForWilson408" or something to that caliber- so I hope you enjoy it. I couldn't sleep at all last night, do I wrote this. I'm fairly certain I was inspired by "A Very Potter Musical" on youtube, which is fantastic if you're looking for a laugh and some great entertainment.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the rights to Harry Potter, unfortunately, but I do own battered copies of all seven books. And some audio books. And a home-made Gryffindor robe… but anyways…
Alrighty, here we go! Enjoy, and review, please, kind people. Thank you in advance :D
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
"Talking to yourself again, are you, Granger?"
The witch sitting by the bank of the lake turned her head swiftly to her left, and Draco took in a quick glance of the mascara rimmed, teary brown eyes and frazzled hair before she snapped at him, head turning away.
"Bugger off, Malfoy." Hermione quipped, her voice shaky.
She's been crying, he realized, and a pang of illogical and unwanted guilt shot through him. He placed his hands in his pockets and stepped towards her hesitantly.
"What're you doing anyway?" He asked, noticing for the first time the half dilapidated flower in her hands, the petals fluttering to the water below. She chuckled wryly as another petal twirled down to meet the glassy surface of the Black Lake.
"I forgot," she said. "I'm the odd one out here, right." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's a Muggle tradition," she explained. "Girls," she paused. "Lovesick girls," she corrected herself. "Will pluck the petals off a flower, saying 'He Loves Me'" she tugged a petal off the weed in her grasp, dropping it to the ground. "Then 'He Loves Me Not'," She held this petal longer before letting it fall away. "To determine their fate with a boy they like."
She continued pulling petals off the flower as Draco counted in his mind. He Loves Me. He Loves Me Not. He Loves Me. He Loves Me Not. He Loves Me-
She'd reached the last petal. He Loves Me Not. Shaking her head, the last petal floated on the wind out of her hand and into the water, leaving Hermione holding the flower, now looking much more naked without its petals.
Draco stuttered for words, because he felt that he needed to say something, feeling very much like he was in a play but had forgotten his lines. He spoke, and he noticed his voice had settled back into the cool demeanor is usually occupied.
"This," he gestures towards the array of petals in the lake, gaze lingering on the last petal momentarily. "Flower thing… can it be wrong?" Hermione looked up at him, eyes narrowed, waiting for the insult that was sure to follow but never did.
"Why, yes." She looked at the petals and back to him. "I suppose it could." She smiled a bit, and Draco felt oddly pleased with himself for lifting her spirits, if only momentarily. But just as soon as the strangely sentimental moment between the two had started, it was over. Hermione tensed and began to mutter about how of course it could be mistaken, it was a bloody flower after all, and that she had an ancient runes essay to complete, and then she was gone in a blur of bushy hair and the scent of flowers.
Draco wandered over to where she'd been sitting seconds before and picked up the discarded flower stem. He fiddled with it for a moment, then tucked it into the breast pocket of his dress shirt, under his robes, before turning to make his way back towards the castle, the scent of flowers still in the air around him.