--`--@ Bed of Roses @--`--
"I want to lay you on a bed of roses
For tonite I sleep on a bed on nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on bed of roses"
Three more days, Harry thought to himself in Potions one day. Three more days until Draco and I share our one year anniversary. He couldn't help but wonder if Draco would remember, or if he even cared.
They hadn't really discussed their feelings towards each other, in all of the entire year that they spent together. They often talked about school and random, unimportant things. Over the summer holiday they had owled each other occasionally, but other than that Harry wasn't sure what kind of relationship they had. It could have been more than just sex, but Draco never really let on whether it was or not, at least not to him.
Harry had been considering over the past few weeks exactly what Draco meant to him, and it wasn't hard to figure it out.
He silently watched Draco at the front of the classroom, taking down notes from Snape's lecture. He always pushed that one piece of hair back, the one that fell over his left cheek, with his right hand. Always the same fluid motion, and Harry had realised that it was little details such as this that showed how he truly felt. The fact that he knew exactly how Draco pushed that strand of hair back was a blatant statement of how much he actually paid attention to everything Draco did, said, felt.
He loved Draco. With every heartbeat, with every blink of eye, with every breath breathed. Draco was running through his veins, in his blood, through his heart and every time felt his heart beat, the blood would surge through anew, carrying Draco with it, to every crevice in his body. To every space in his mind. Draco was the essence of himself, the piece of him that made it hurt to be away from him, the piece of him that knew with every day passing he was becoming less of just Harry and more of Harry and Draco.
But Harry was certain that telling Draco this would scare him away, would cause the connection he felt to Draco to fail and, in time, to die. He wouldn't be able to stand it if Draco pulled away, he was no longer Harry but one half of a whole. Harry and Draco.
Harry thoughtfully wondered if maybe their anniversary would be the right time to tell Draco how he felt. Maybe instead, he could show him.
They had been studying roses in Herbology, because apparently roses had magical powers. They also were learning the meanings of the colours, because the colours often determined what kind of magical power the rose contained.
And he knew that the red rose encircled love and passion. And then he remember how, upon hearing this, Draco had delicately picked up the red rose lying in front of him and had regarded it pensively.
And then Harry knew.
~*~I want to lay you down on a bed of roses.~*~
Draco had never spent the night in his dorm, neither had he ever stayed the night in Draco's. They would always slip away in the middle of the night, quietly retreating back to their own empty, cold beds. Harry hadn't realised exactly when he started wishing Draco would stay, but now he was sure of himself.
He silently prayed each night that Draco would remain in his bed with him, stay the night, and then Harry would awake in the morning, warm and, for once, not alone.
But Draco never did, and when Harry was in his bed, Draco never asked him to stay.
He wanted to go to bed with Draco, and for once, he wanted to wake up beside him. It was all he truly wanted, as it meant that neither regretted what had happened the night before between them, that it was more than just a purely physical relationship.
~~~~
The next day, the day before their anniversary, Harry planned everything in his head. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and exactly how he wanted to get it done. It would take a lot of time, but then again, if pulled off right it would be worth it, for the rest of his life.
He went to the edges of the Forbidden Forest after classes and picked as many red roses as he could find, and when he was satisfied that he had collected enough roses, he went back up to his dorm. Christmas break was beginning the next day, which suited the situation well as he would need the dorm room to himself. The other sixth year Gryffindors were all returning home for the holiday while he stayed. Draco had told him he was staying and when Harry asked why he simply smiled and said that he just felt like it.
Upon bringing the bundle of roses to his room, wrapped in an old jumper, he hid them under his bed and headed down to dinner.
~*~For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails.~*~
Sleep was, unfortunately, not an option for that night. Harry's body tingled in a mix of excitement and nervousness, knowing full well that the future of his relationship with Draco relied on how Draco reacted the next night. It was too much for Harry to just forget about, and while he lay in bed he hoped that everything would go as planned.
It wasn't comfortable, feeling nervous this way, his stomach was fluttering and it felt like he was sleeping on rose thorns, or nails. The bedsheets felt itchy and the bed felt hard. He knew there was no way he could sleep. So, he lifted himself out of bed and began the tedious job that would hopefully be well worth it be the end of tomorrow.
He began counting.
~~~~
The next day came and Harry awoke, lying on top of his covers. He realised that, after he had finished last night, he had fallen asleep without bothering to pull the covers back.
After breakfast and goodbyes to everyone going home, Harry went up to his room to prepare. The Slytherin would be meeting him at eight that night, after he finished an extra Potions project and helped Pansy catch up with her work.
And, with a smile on his face and butterflies in his stomach, Harry prepared his room.
~*~And lay you down on a bed of roses~*~
When Draco arrived at the Gryffindor common room that night, he was surprised to see that Harry was waiting outside for him. Usually Harry would give him the password and he would just slip in, usually much later at night. but since it was holiday it didn't make much difference. He smiled at Harry, and Harry took his hand. A small gesture that made Draco feel a delicious shiver. He couldn't wait to tell Harry how he felt, he just knew Harry would feel the same way back.
And he wanted to give his gift to Harry.
He let Harry lead him up to his dorm room, and as Harry opened the door, a small smile on his face, Draco took in a sharp breath.
Harry led him into the room, and glanced at Draco's face. The candlelight softened the blonde's features and, plainly visible to Harry, was the warmth reflected back at him in those grey eyes.
Draco was speechless. The entire room was lit by candlelight, hundreds of candles glittered in the room. He fancied that he smelled roses, and when he returned his gaze on Harry, Harry was smiling. Still grasping Draco's hand, he pulled him over to the bed, where Draco noticed that the curtains were closed.
Harry opened the curtains, hands trembling slightly, and Draco felt tears come to his eyes as he saw the bed.
It was covered in red rose petals.
"Harry," Draco breathed, barely audible.
Harry sat on the bed, taking both of Draco's hands in his, and pulled him up onto the bed with him. He then knelt in front of Draco, amidst the roses, leaned in and kissed Draco softly on the lips.
"Three hundred and sixty five red rose petals, one for every day..." Harry began.
"That I've loved you." Draco finished. And Draco pulled a small white box out of his robes, opened it, and lifted out a silver ring. In the candlelight Harry could see the green glint off the ring, and with a small gasp Harry looked at Draco.
"A promise ring." Draco said, and slipped it on Harry's hand. "So you'll always know I love you."
Harry felt tears come to his eyes and wrapped his arms around Draco. "I didn't think you would remember, I didn't know that you..."
But Draco kissed him. When he pulled away he simply smiled and whispered, "Happy Anniversary."
And Harry lay down as Draco kissed him again, and they spent the night making love amidst the roses. The scent of love was under them, above them, all around them. The love was in them. And they loved each other.
Draco stayed the night, and Harry when Harry awoke, he was warm and, for once, not alone.
And everyday after, when Harry awoke, he could faintly smell roses on the air.