Another story I've written up for the Game of Drarry fest/competition on Discord. This one is less of a drabble and more of a one-shot, but I'm keeping it in this collection.

My prompt this time was: Write a Drarry fic of 988-1652 words following this prompt: Harry or Draco owns a flower shop. The other comes in to patron their shop.

So here you go. I hope you enjoy. 💛💛


Consider the Daffodil

Harry was having a horrible morning.

It'd begun with his alarm going off twenty minutes late and the shower running cold after only five minutes. It was then enhanced by Teddy throwing a tantrum while Harry was getting him ready for playschool. His godson simply had to wear his Chudley Cannons shirt, even though it was absolutely filthy and too far gone for a simple Scourgify. Sobs, screams, stomping of feet — most of this Teddy's — had given Harry a raging headache.

He'd finally given in, shrank his own Cannons shirt, pulled it over Teddy's head, then rushed him out the door. Drop-off at the school resulted in more tears, because, of course, Harry had forgotten to pack Teddy's lunch and the poor child would have to eat the school provided lunch today — a lunch Harry knew the boy would enjoy, but evidently wasn't good enough this time.

And then he'd gotten to work, his head ready to crack open, and all he'd wanted was a few minutes of peace, a cup of coffee, and a Pain-relieving Potion. He'd just sat down at his desk with his coffee and potion when his partner, Susan Bones, burst into their office, reminding him that he was required to be in a department meeting in three minutes and that he'd better hurry his arse in there before he got written up for tardiness for the third time this month.

And no, he shouldn't have bitten her head off for it, as it was kind of her to make sure he remembered the meeting, and yes, he could have just taken the pain potion and coffee with him, but he was too busy snarling and running down the hallway to the meeting room to think clearly.

But the morning was over now, and he'd had a quiet lunch in a Muggle park, sitting next to a quiet pond watching the birds. His head was clear, his afternoon open so he could finish his paperwork on his last case, and he felt the stress of the day melting away.

He decided to take a leisurely walk through the quaint neighbourhood before finding an Apparition point and returning to the Ministry. He looked into the shop windows as he walked, greeting strangers with a slight nod and smile. Merlin, he loved being anonymous in greater London. Even with the bustle of the cars and shoppers, it felt easier, more relaxing.

Like that shop up the block with its formal, black canvas that covered the entrance. It was softened by the flower displays spilling out onto the pavement, practically begging the passing shopper to stop and admire the blooms.

Harry thought back to his morning, remembering Susan's stiffened shoulders and sad eyes after he'd snapped at her, and suddenly had a brilliant idea.

He checked his watch — twenty-five minutes left before he should be back in the office — and hurried his steps to the shop. Flores Undique, the sign read, and the sweet smell of flowers Harry couldn't identify flooded his senses. This would be perfect.

Stepping through the door to the inner shop, Harry felt like he'd been transported into a fairy tale. The walls were lined with refrigerators stocked full of blooms of various colours and varieties. A wrought iron garden table and chairs were nestled amongst the flower arrangements, and a similar bench balanced the other side of the room, inviting the shopper to sit and enjoy the sensory experience the little shop offered.

Harry ran his fingers over the petals of a pretty, white and purple lily, one of the only flowers he did recognise, as he had a smaller version of the flower tattooed on his collarbone. But that wasn't right for today's bouquet. Lilies seemed so formal, and Susan was anything but formal.

"I'll be out in a moment!" a man's voice called from the backroom. "Please, feel free to look around."

Harry smiled. The man sounded posh, which he supposed made sense. Arranging flowers all day did seem the type of thing that would take a special type of person. It wasn't like Neville, working in the greenhouses. It was more…artsy…Harry decided.

Curious, Harry stepped closer to the doorway where he'd heard the voice emanate. A young man's backside was to him — and a gorgeous backside it was. His slim build was covered with a cool, blue shirt that pulled across what appeared to be a strong back and muscular shoulders. His arse, though, was where the man excelled. It was housed in a pair of trousers that should have been illegal, the way they outlined each perfectly rounded cheek and hugged the man's thick thighs.

Harry stared, wondering how that arse would feel in his hands when the man straightened, and Harry backed away, turning to look at a nearby flower.

"Apologies for the delay," the man said, rushing through the door. "How can I help you?"

Harry turned, a flirty smile already prepared for The Man with the Amazing Arse, and then he froze, stunned.

"Malfoy," Harry breathed out. "Fucking hell, that was you?"

Draco Malfoy stood before him. The Slytherin with the Amazing Arse. And he looked equally as stunned to see Harry.

Malfoy cleared his throat after several seconds. "Potter. Good to see you," he said formally. "How can I help you?"

"Uh, right. Sorry. You work here?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "This is my shop. Are you looking for flowers?" And then his eyes widened, and Harry could see the fear in them. "Or is this about something for your work?"

Harry drew back, horrified. "No, no, nothing like that. I had no idea you had a flower shop. In Muggle London, especially."

Malfoy relaxed slightly and gestured to the room. "Well, it's as you see. Flowers are flowers, and the clientele in this neighbourhood is much more diverse and accepting than my other… options."

Harry considered. Draco didn't really have a lot of other options. With Lucius in Azkaban, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were barely tolerated amongst the wizarding public after the war and had finally just melted away into the background. Harry hadn't really thought about him in a couple of years.

"Well, you look good," Harry said, then felt his face heat when he replayed what had come out of his mouth. "I mean the shop. It looks like you're doing well."

Malfoy's lips twitched a little at the edge. "I could say the same for you."

Harry wondered how he should take that, but then Draco's eyes slowly ran over Harry's body and when they met Harry's again, there was a definite gleam. Oh. Oh.

"Right, so, uh, flowers. I wanted to buy flowers for my partner. I bit her head off this morning and need to grovel."

Draco stiffened, and the change in demeanour made the room abruptly colder, and Harry was confused.

"Yes, flowers for your partner. Well, roses are generally the accepted method of grovelling to one's girlfriend." Draco walked to the refrigerator full of multi-coloured roses. "You see I carry a range of colours, but red—"

"No," Harry interrupted, realising what had happened. "No, she's not my girlfriend. She's my Auror partner. Susan Bones. Hufflepuff, our year in school?"

Draco looked as though he were about to speak, but closed his mouth on a nod. When he spoke again, the warmth had returned and Harry felt like he'd won a little victory. "Well, definitely not roses then."

He walked along the other arrangements, glancing at Harry. "Do you need to worry about picking something that won't make anyone else jealous? A boyfriend or girlfriend?"

Harry grinned at the question, suddenly encouraged. "No."

Draco's smile spread. "Well, then, she's a Hufflepuff, so I'm going to guess she's partial to bright colours and informal displays, am I right?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a laugh. "And nothing that smells so strong that it overwhelms our little office, please."

"I have just the thing. I'll put it together. It'll just take a moment."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. I have to get back to work in a few, and still have to walk to the Apparition point, though. Can you maybe send it over?"

"I could, or you could just Floo from my office if you like. Then we can…catch up…while I put together the bouquet."

Soft blond locks of hair framed Draco's face, making Harry's fingers itch to push them back. There was a promise in his old rival's grey eyes, and it was one Harry realised he wanted to claim. It was more than just the perfect arse, though that was definitely part of it. No, Harry wanted to see what made this new Malfoy tick. He wanted to hear how he got here to this adorable little shop in Belgravia.

"I'd like that," Harry said, and the answering grin on Draco's face made Harry's stomach warm. He followed the man into the back of the shop and watched as Draco began to skillfully build the bouquet for Susan.

Later, as he headed back to the office with the flowers in hand for his partner and a date for dinner the next evening, Harry smiled.

He was having a wonderful afternoon.

Finis


Endnote: When coming up with the title, I was looking at the meaning of flowers. I liked that the daffodil means rebirth and new beginnings, as this story is really about Harry seeing the results of Draco's life, giving him a new beginning, and Harry turning his day around.

However, when thinking about the daffodil, I suddenly remembered an old Jack Handy line from old Saturday Night Live (when I was in high school, and yes, I just admitted to my advanced age, lol). Anyway, it's not a serious quote at all, but neither is this a serious story, so it all works out in the end. I hope you enjoyed it.