A/N, don't you just love flowers? Bit of a shorter chapter.
Draco hadn't given up, after all, he was a Malfoy and it did have it's good sides. He nursed his coffee on the rooftop terrace of the building, the mindless chatter of the artists and tourists below provided a perfect backdrop to his thoughts. The sun was setting on the beautiful village of Montmartre, Draco decided he appreciated the quiet life he now lived. The average person wouldn't call a life in Paris quiet, far from it, but to Draco it was perfect. He wasn't harassed to go to some snobbish party or entertain his parent's friends, he could pick and choose where he wanted to go and who he wanted to see, or on a cold night he could light the fire and sit by it with a book. Many of his old associates would never believe this of Draco, but it was true, he had changed. He only wished Hermione would give him a chance.
Leaving the rooftop terrace behind, Draco believed an evening stroll was in order, some artists had packed up and the others were bidding farewell to the last of the tourists, or chatting animatedly with the locals. Delphine was stood outside the restaurant chatting to the grocer, so deep in conversation she didn't notice one blonde haired male stroll by.
"Need any help?" Draco asked the florist who was struggling to lift the heavy tubs inside. The brunette turned her head and flashed a smile at Draco. She was a woman of forty named Annette who often frequented Ma Mere's, the two were on quite friendly terms.
"Oui." she replied and Draco instantly lifted a bucket and carried it in with ease. Annette stood up and mopped her brow with her apron while Draco returned for another bucket. He noticed a single pink daisy left in the last bucket and picked it up.
"How much?" he asked her.
"Free," she replied, "it can be your wage." she laughed. Draco threaded the flower through his button hole as he lifted the last bucket inside.
"Merci, Draco." he nodded his head and said a quick goodbye before making the return journey to his apartment.
Night had fallen faster than he expected, but Draco didn't mind. He opened the large windows onto his balcony to let the breeze in and placed the flower on his coffee table. The TV was playing jazz music, he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the couch. With his wand Draco sent the flower to Hermione's office so it would be waiting for her tomorrow morning. This time, no note went with it.
By the time the morning had come the flower hadn't returned, not even by dinner time. At the same time that night, Draco sent another pink daisy purchased from Annette. This was his daily routine, at the same time he'd send a flower, and not one of them was sent back. Draco sat at a table outside the restaurant when he was joined by Delphine, the old woman was quite content to sit in silence for a while, she was the first to speak.
"Tell me Draco, why does a handsome young man sit in solitude on a night like this?"
Draco ran his finger around the rim of the cup, he said nothing. Delphine looked at him.
"You know I wouldn't court Jean-Luc at first. It wasn't until he carved me a wooden heart that I agreed to go dancing with him." Draco smiled as Delphine recalled the memory.
"I send her a flower," he revealed "a pink daisy, every day on her desk. She doesn't send these ones back."
"It won't do you any good to sit and wait for her Draco, you need to get out a bit." The old lady patted his hand and looked him in the eye. "Trust me. I may be an old fool, but I'm an old fool with experience." Draco smiled, Delphine had never let him down.
It was July 13th when Draco came home to find a note on his kitchen counter.
Fine, I'll meet you. Three Broomsticks at 7. Don't stand me up.
HG