Harry wasn't sure when he first noticed it, but as he sits beside the lake watching the first snowflakes fall despite the leaves still falling at a steady pace from the trees he realizes he doesn't mind falling in love. Even if the object of his affections would never return the sentiment, even if it was Draco Malfoy, Harry really didn't mind. It was barely November but Harry smiled toward the sky reflecting on what had occurred leading to his discovery. After the war ended the summer had been full of death eater trails and repair work on the castle as well as memorial services for those who fell in the long war. Harry made it his duty to attend every trial and service he could even if he didn't speak at many of them, but when the Malfoy family was tried Harry spoke, and while he might not have been able to save Lucius, he was able to save Narcissa from Azkaban instead getting her a lengthy home stay, but she hadn't seemed to mind honestly. Draco, he wished he could do more for, even with the knowledge that Harry could give, the best Draco could get was a 3 year home stay followed by a prohibition.

Harry had been surprised when after the castle was fixed up it was offered to everyone who's schooling had been disrupted by the war that they could finish their education. Harry had been more surprised on the first day back to run into Draco. It was early September, not yet fall but the leaves were just beginning to change from green to red, just as people's lives were changing as they tried to pick themselves back up after the war. That was the difference between leaves and people, Harry mused, one must change and fall and the other must fall to change. When Harry had spoken with Draco that day he could see the change already in the blond man, yes a man, no one walks away from a war a child. His hair that was usually well kept was left free and loose about his face, his lean body seemed shrunken in, he held himself in a way that no longer screamed the smug pride that Harry didn't realize he admired until it was gone. This Draco Malfoy in front of him carried the weight of sorrow and guilt on his back, his eyes didn't shine like steel in the sun like they once did whenever they met Harry's own eyes, and Harry hated it. Saying they spoke, Harry would later realize, would imply they exchanged words but the entire meeting passed silently. They had nodded in acknowledgment of the other's presence, Harry stuck out his hand for them to shake but when Draco reached out Harry pulled his hand away only to instead press Draco's wand into the waiting hand and Harry walked away. Harry walked away from his former rival without a word because if he was honest with himself even if this Draco was nothing like the one he had grown up with for the past several years, being near Draco made Harry feel more alive than he had since the war ended, and that scared him.

That same night Harry found himself under his father's old cloak sitting by the lake. The walls of the castle held to many memories of those who were no longer around and Harry needed to get away for a bit regardless if it was after curfew and well into the night. Almost as if he knew where to find Harry Draco sat beside him not long after. Even if they hadn't spoken earlier and Draco couldn't have known Harry was there under the cloak Draco sighed and hugged his knees to his chest staring out into the lake. "If you're trying to hide I can hear you breathing, but if you're gonna just be there maybe you can listen?" Draco's voice was clear if not a little nervous, Harry was surprised by the lack of proper grammar but didn't say anything. Harry studied the blond boy a moment before plucking a blade of grass and transfiguring it into a white periwinkle and offering it to him careful only to show his hand. Harry memorized the sound as Draco laughed taking the flower reciting it's meaning to be pleasures of memory. Harry smiled glad that he had learned the language of flowers while taking care of his Aunt's garden, even more, glad that Draco understood. They spent the first-week meeting outside just after sundown, Harry under the cloak, Draco talking about whatever was on his mind. They would talk until midnight, or rather Harry would listen with only a white periwinkle when they met for the night and a trumpet flower for separation when they parted.

During the second week of it, Harry noticed that Draco's eyes were no longer the dull graphite grey they had been on the first day. His eyes were brighter, he still carried the weight of sorrow and guilt but it seemed as though his burden was troubling him less, and Harry smiled knowing that he helped even if all he did was listen. The night he noticed he didn't hand over a white periwinkle, instead, he arrived early and left a deep pink rose in Draco's spot. A simple thank you for being in his life. Draco laughed when he saw it commenting that it should be the other way around. Two days later when they observed a leaf fall from the tree Harry jumped up plucking it out of the air changing it to an Austrian Rose without a thought and offered the mysteries of the heart to Draco. The look of surprise on Draco's face made it worth the risk of Harry exposing who he was. If Draco had received a bouquet for purple pansy the next morning, well Harry had no clue who sent the message of "you occupy my thoughts" even if only a few eyes in the Great Hall were sharp with understanding Harry kept his eyes and smile on his plate of eggs.

September gave way into October and October passed without another bouquet of flowers being given or a flower that wasn't for the pleasure of memory or separation. Despite the chill growing in the air they still met every night by the lake and Draco talked while Harry listed underneath his father's cloak. Halloween night despite being tired after a large feast the boys still made their way to what had become their spot. Draco found himself in his common room the next morning covered by a Gryffindor robe not sure how he got back. The bigger mystery was neither the owner of the robe or how they got into the common room it was the peach with hemlock that would puzzle his mind all day. Who would profess his qualities, like his charms, are unequaled but also that he would be their death? Harry skipped class until lunch that day claiming he had eaten too much the night before and had been sick, nobody questioned it.

Halloween night was the day Harry realized he loved Draco Malfoy and accepted that Draco would never love Harry Potter. For the first time since they started meeting Harry did not meet Draco that night though he still went out as to make sure Draco made it back okay, even if it hurt to hear Draco call for him not knowing who it was he was calling for. Harry felt guilty, but he also felt sick knowing that if Draco knew who he was it would all stop and Draco would likely hate Harry. He went back the next night even though he wanted to run away. Harry arrived early gathering up leaves that had fallen quietly changing them into flowers for his blond companion to find. There were forget-me-not's for true love, harebell for submission and grief, raspberry for remorse, a pear for affection, and peach blossom saying Harry was captive to Draco. Harry pondered what else he could use to convey his meaning, his thoughts cut short though as footsteps approached. Harry jumped back from the mess he had made with the various plants hoping Draco understood that he was sorry and loved him. Harry was glad to be under the cloak as Draco regarded the mess, he repressed a gasp as despite being invisible shining silver eyes seemed to lock onto Harry's. "It would be easier if you just spoke you know. I don't get it really, you say I'll be your death but you clearly convey today that you love me. Yesterday you ignored me and if it weren't for the flowers and the robe I'd think you were a dream. Just tell me who you are I mean you already relieved you're a bloody lion it won't take me long to figure it out even if you don't speak." Harry will never admit even under the threat of death that he was scared by that so sure sound in Draco's voice that he ran. Harry James Potter on the night of November the second ran away from a boy.

Harry didn't attend class on the third. He sat in his spot by the lake wearing an old Weasley sweater and no robe over his clothes. The mess from the night before had been cleared away, by who Harry didn't care. He watched the snowfall and how it melted just before it reached the surface of the lake. He pondered his life now that the war was over for the first time. The war had been all Harry had known, his purpose in life, and now it was over. Over the summer it had been easy to ignore the empty feeling in his chest by keeping busy with memorials and trials and helping with the castle, busy minds and bodies have no time to mourn or miss what has been changed forever. Nights spent listening to Draco seemed to fill the hole in his chest, he was whole near the other boy. His friends wouldn't understand, Ron and Hermione were happy together and didn't notice Harry much outside of the classroom and that was just fine. War changes people and for them, it was realizing their love and wanting to cherish it above all else. Harry understood even if he couldn't be with the one who he fell in love with as leaves changed their colors and fell. Harry supposed himself a leaf, the war had been his spring and summer, he'd been young and green, and now the war was over he'd begun to change colors, and when he left Hogwarts he'd fall from the tree and live his life where ever the wind carried him until he shriveled up and died.

Harry jumped as a robe was draped over his shoulders, looking up he was surprised to meet eyes that shined like steel in the sun. "You're thinking so loud I can hear you from the dungeons" Draco joked sitting beside him, Harry smiled thinking how they sat in these exact spots night after night, but of course Draco didn't know that. Harry tried to think of what best to say looking away. Plucking a leaf from the ground that had fallen halfway through changing from green to red. He twirled it gently between his fingers holding it by the stem "The hemlock makes a little more sense now" Draco added sensing he wasn't going to get an answer.

Harry didn't look up mumbling an apology. It seemed Draco hadn't been wrong, he did figure it out quickly. The blond sighed leaning back to look at the sky "I'm not angry, I suppose I should be I mean I told my longtime rival about my home life and about my friends, my worries, and my fears. I should hate you" he paused as Harry flinched "but I don't. I'm confused, but you're not the only captive here" Draco smiled recalling the peach blossoms. Draco reached over with his wand in hand changing the leaf Harry was still holding into a Coreopsis Arkansa. A look of shock overtook the dark haired man's face as he looked up searching steel eyes for a hint of falsity, finding none he dropped the flower reaching his hands toward Draco gently cupping his face in his hands. Neither commented on how Draco's face seemed to fit perfectly, almost like Harry's hands had been made for the sake of holding the other in this way. Their lips met like leaves falling to the ground, gentle despite the end of its life nearing. When they broke apart still smiling at one another Harry whispered along the edge of Draco's mouth professing his love. Coreopsis Arkansa for love at first sight.

AN: 2,138 words, this was the last one I wrote back in September took me the longest due to the flower meanings. If you leave a review on this story or check out the other 2 I posted today please be brutal