Sorry for the delay on this last chapter. I have been ridiculously busy in real life with working three jobs and moving. Plus, I have other things that are due and still need to be worked on [oops.] Anyway, I've made this chapter extra long to make up for the wait. Plus, we've made it to the very end. I'm pretty excited to have this story finished, but also pretty sad that it's over. I do have another WIP, that I need to focus on, and several fest fics to finish, and publish once the reveals occur.

So, thank you for sticking with me this far, and I hope you enjoy what's here.

DMHG

"Granger," he yelped, finally drawn out of his shock. He jumped up and faltered softly towards her. Hermione was there, she heard his mother speaking with him. How much did she hear? Draco knew he was starting to sweat, and he only hoped that Hermione didn't notice.

"Back to Granger, I see. But of course, we're nothing," she snarled, shoving past him to lock herself in her bathroom.

Draco was shocked once more. He didn't mean that. He didn't mean for her to hear it, but that didn't mean he meant it either. He jumped over the couch to follow her and tried to open the door.

It was locked. He was pulling his wand out when he heard Hermione shout from the other side, "If you unlock that door, you'll wish you hadn't."

He gulped. He knew that tone of voice. It usually preceded a slap to the face.

"Hermione," he pleaded, realising calling her Granger earlier was a huge mistake. "We're not nothing," he tried to explain.

"Go away," she cried. She was trying very hard to hold back tears. Sure, they were only friends, but she thought they were growing into something more. She wanted them to be something more. Yes, she could admit to that. And yes, she was going to admit to it on his birthday. She figured she had one more month to work up the courage.

But not anymore.

"Hermione," he begged, letting his forehead rest on the door, lightly tapping against it.

She only shook her head, curling up into herself with her back to the door. Letting her tears fall silently. This is why she didn't date, why she only worked in her shop. She had a routine. One that involved her waking up in the morning around 5.30, drinking tea, being ready by 6, getting fresh flowers at Columbia Road Flower Market, and stopping by the Leaky Cauldron to exchange graded papers for magical plants with Neville. A routine where she spent her mornings busy around the shop, afternoons grading or solving silly crosswords. Her nights were spent with her friends or reading books. And then the day would repeat itself.

Then Draco Malfoy decided to enter her life once more. They became comrades in arms against him finding a wife, and they had succeeded. Her whole routine changed with him being a major part of her life. Now, she was able to have a lie-in, baked cream puffs, and had help setting up the shop after Draco had done her morning errands. They would joke around while moseying around, have tea, and play Monopoly.

She liked that existence, but of course, it wasn't meant to be.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered to the door and staggered out of the flat.

His life before Hermione was boring and plain. He hardly did anything. He slept in, he partied late, he hung out with friends, had plenty of one-offs. It was hardly an existence.

His mother had been right, he was letting the world pass him by. But then Hermione helped him with the wonderful Bouquet of Doom - and he helped her by coming up with an excellent marketing strategy to utilise the Bouquet, that he was also getting quite good at arranging, with all of his Pureblood friends avoiding one Pansy Parkinson. He enjoyed the laughing and joking they did throughout the day.

He really enjoyed that kiss they shared that one time, too.

He looked up the stairs one more time, not having heard the door opening, meaning Hermione was still locked inside. He glanced around the shop that had been his home for the past few months. He liked waking up each morning and minding the till. He enjoyed creating different arrangements and coming up with new things.

He liked spending his days with Hermione.

Now that was gone.

And it was all his mother's fault.

The more he thought about it, the more angry he became. He stomped out of Sherwood Florist, and vowed to fix things.

DMHG

He Apparated into his room and immediately Accio his old school trunk. He began Summoning all his things and shrinking them to fit into the trunk. He would not stay at home any longer. His mother thought that she could boss him around and he was twenty-two for Salazar's sake.

He finally had something that he looked forward to, and she had ruined it.

He shook his head, looked around his empty room once more and Disapparated before his mother could know anything was wrong.

DMHG

Draco never thought he would feel grateful to Neville Longbottom, but at that moment, he could have kissed him - he would never, that was for sure, but the sentiment is what counted.

He had his trunk under the table that he had commandeered. He was on his fifth Firewhiskey, and he knew Hannah had made Neville approach him, but that didn't matter. Draco figured drinking his sorrows away may give him some sort of idea how to fix things.

Leaving the Manor was step one. He didn't think far ahead enough for step two.

"What's wrong?" Neville asked, pulling a chair around and straddling it.

"Nothing," Draco mumbled into his empty cup. He looked up to the bar and Hannah shook her head. He cursed, unhappy to be cut off, and lifted his glass in Longbottom's direction.

"There's clearly something wrong," he continued, ignoring his request for more booze.

"Hermione is mad at me," he whined, dropping his head onto the table. His head hurt, and he wasn't sure if it was from all the alcohol or having his once happy life pulled from under his feet.

"What did you do?" Neville asked, sending the all but one empty glass back to his wife. He cast Aguamenti into the remaining glass and pushed it into Draco's hair, urging him to drink.

Draco looked up, rested his chin on the table, and eyed the glass. He knew it was probably a good idea to drink the water, but he didn't want to. Not yet. He deserved to be in pain. Hermione was crying in her bathroom, the least Draco could do was have a headache.

Neville nudged the glass once more, and leaned forward on his elbows, letting his cheek rest against one of his hands.

"My mother tried to get me to say that Hermione and I were dating. We're not, at least not right now, and definitely not anytime soon. I told my mother we were nothing. Hermione overheard and now she won't talk to me," he rasped, before giving in and downing the water.

"And you're here with your trunk of things because?" Neville yawned, as if the whole situation was of no consequence.

"Because my mother set me up!" He slammed his fist against the tabletop. "I like Hermione, okay. And I'm pretty sure she liked me. And anything that could have happened... gone, vanished, no more." He had to take deep breaths. The conversation was just making him angry.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Neville again yawned. It was getting late, and if he didn't care for Hermione, or start to like Draco over the past two months, he would have called it a night and went to bed with his wife. She was still at the bar cleaning up, the place having closed a half hour ago.

"I don't know. Apologize?" Draco pondered out loud. He really didn't know what to do. He just knew he couldn't stand to look at his mother and Hermione couldn't stand to look at him. He let his head fall to the table once more with a big THUD.

A clink by his ear drew his attention and he looked up to see Neville leaving the table. "That's the key to room six, stay the night and figure it out in the morning."

Draco muttered a quiet thanks but didn't get up from the table.

DMHG

Draco couldn't remember the last time he woke up with such a hangover. It must've been months. At least since before Valentine's Day. Granger did like to drink too often and since he spent all his time with her, he didn't drink that much either.

Oh how he missed the witch.

He would apologize to her today. He would fix things. He had to fix things. He didn't know what the future held for the two of them, but he wanted to at least find out.

But first, he'd get a hangover potion. His head felt like a bludger hit it, and apologizing while groaning and in pain didn't seem like a good idea.

So he cast a Tempus spell and found out it was mid-morning. The Apothecary would be open and Hermione would be sequestered in her shop already. He wouldn't have to see her until he was ready.

Which would be when he was sober. He vowed.

DMHG

The Apothecary was on the other side of her shop. The whole mission reminded him of the first time he ran errands for Hermione. He remembered having to hide in the shadows so that she wouldn't realise he didn't know how to go about in the Muggle world.

Well now he did, so there! He poked his tongue at Sherwood Florist, as if Hermione could see. He hid in the shadow of the corner and waited for an opportune moment to run by to get to the Apothecary.

He watched Harry Potter walk into the shop and the door shut. He took his chance and bolted for the other end of the alley.

DMHG

Hermione looked up to the door with bright eyes until she realised it was only her friend Harry. She let her head fall onto the counter once more and she sighed.

Maybe she should have let Draco talk to her yesterday. She was just so hurt by his words, and she didn't want him to know he could make her cry. Why hadn't he come by to apologize? To fix things? Maybe he didn't mean it then, but because of how she reacted, he meant it now.

They were nothing.

A silent tear fell from her cheek.

"Hermione," Harry said, patting her shoulder.

"Hi, Harry," she mumbled into the counter.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked pulling a stool so that he sat next to her.

She shook her head. No, she didn't want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real. She didn't want it to be real.

"It might make it better," he soothed.

"No it won't," she cried. She sat up and looked at her best friend. The caring look he gave her only made her more upset. She fell into him, hugged him close, and sobbed into his shoulder.

"There, there," he rubbed her back, helping her calm down just a bit.

"He told his mum we were nothing and I heard him. I kicked him out before he could explain and now he's gone. He's gone!" she wailed.

"Maybe he's trying to figure out how to apologize. I know I don't like to come right back to you after getting you angry," he assured.

"Maybe," Hermione hiccuped. She hated the hiccups.

"Give him some time, who knows, maybe the ferret learned something from you."

DMHG

Draco saw the 'Help Wanted' sign in the window for the Apothecary and it only took him a moment to apply for the job. He still had the hangover, not wanting to buy the Potion right before interviewing. How would that look?

He passed the interview with flying colours. It helped having one of the best Potion Masters for a Godfather and having learned how to brew around the same time he learned to fly - which was four, by the way, and was the youngest his mother would let him do either activity. The woman was always ruining his fun.

What made the job even better was there was a flat behind the shop that was also for rent. Draco had never lived on his own. Always lived in the Manor and the only time he could consider having not lived there was the one weekend he slept at Hermione's because they got caught up in a really, really long game of Monopoly - it was also the only one she ever won because Draco simply could not keep playing, but she didn't need to know that.

So now he had his own flat, and a job. His mother couldn't say he wasn't doing anything for himself anymore! And it wasn't like he was going to talk to her anyway. He was still quite angry with her.

Now, to work on the apology.

DMHG

Harry had left the shop with promises to check up on her again tomorrow. Hermione appreciated the effort, but she only wanted to see one person. And he hadn't shown up all day. It was almost five, and they would normally be eating dinner together right now on her floor. She couldn't bother to make herself dinner now. She was depressed. She sat on her living room floor, wrapped tightly in a blanket, the Monopoly box on the coffee table, and stared.

It had been one day, and she missed him.

A bell downstairs signaled a customer entering the shop. It was after hours and she wasn't going to help anyone. "We're closed," she shouted, still staring blankly.

Purple blurred her vision and a sweet scent invaded her nostrils.

She blinked.

She blinked again.

It was a bouquet of purple hyacinths, primroses, and zinnias. A bouquet being held by a pale hand with long thin fingers. A pale hand with long thin fingers that she missed dearly. She turned around and saw the pale pointed ferret she had missed.

"I went to the flower market. Sam said these mean 'I'm sorry' and I really am." He said, putting the bouquet into her lap. He walked around the table and placed a plastic bag filled with Chinese take out onto the coffee table - next to the Monopoly box.

She wanted to be mad at him. She really did. But he braved Muggle London for her once more, got her apology flowers, and food. She liked food. She liked flowers. She liked Malfoy.

"Okay, give me some orange chicken," she smiled.

DMHG

After dinner, and discussing Draco's new life, the two played a quick game of Monopoly where Draco did not let her win. He had other plans.

"Okay, I have one other thing for you," Draco said, pulling Hermione up off the floor with him. He was happy that things worked out. He had the kick in the butt he needed and was out of the house. He lived on his own, had a job, and after tonight, a girlfriend, hopefully.

"Stand here," he pulled Hermione so she stood behind the till.

She was confused as the shop was just its normal self. Nothing special, no fairy lights, no candles, no smells beyond the flowers - she wasn't a crazy romantic, but she'd figure he'd try. She wanted to berate him from taking her away from upstairs but he quickly interrupted her.

"Accio white chrysanthemum, red roses, pink roses, white roses." She watched as all the beautiful flowers flew into his hands. "Statuo Flores," he waved his wand and created a beautiful bouquet and placed it on the counter between them. "I'm not one hundred percent sure what this means, but I told Sam what I wanted it to say and he said this would do the trick."

Hermione wasn't going to let him goad her into saying it first. If he thought he could trick her, he had another thing coming. "Oh, and what did you want them to say?" she smirked.

His cheeks flushed. This was why he liked her, he couldn't get away with things so easily. She kept him on his toes. "I love you, truthfully," he whispered.

She smiled, happy to not be the first to say it. "I love you too," she beamed, "and this will now be known as the 'Bouquet of Love.'"

Draco raised his eyebrow at the name, then walked around the counter.

"What, okay, it's not as awesome as the 'Bouquet of Doom' but really, what else can I call it?" She explained.

He just nodded his head, "You're so cheesy," and pulled her into a kiss.

DMHG

Just so you know the exact meaning, Hyacinths mean I am sorry. Primroses mean I cannot live without you. Zinnia means thoughts of absent friends. White chrysanthemum means truth. Red roses for love and desire, pink and white roses for 'I love you still and always will'

There's an epilogue planned and I've drafted it up but I don't know if I'll have it done by tomorrow to post, but I'll have something up before the beginning of next week. ACK, this story is pretty much finished. Oh my. I think I'm going to cry. If you favourite or follow, please review. Actually, just review anyway because they make me smile. =]