Status Updates From In These Silent Days

… All she has to do is turn around and look her future in the face.

There will be a man on one knee, a question from his mouth, an alexandrite ring in his hand. Draco will offer her boundless loyalty, good days and bad, physical affection, intellectual stimulation, no small amount of frustration, companionship, and love for a lifetime.

Perhaps most importantly, he’ll offer himself.

She’ll accept.

“I love you.”

She’s seen Draco smile before, of course, but never like this. He’s smiling with his entire being; joy radiates from him and spurs Hermione to say what she’s planned to say.

"And I don't have flowers for you, but I do have this.” Disentangling herself from Draco, she..picks up the signed Marriage Dissolution Form. Holding it aloft, she takes her wand and confidently casts.

“Incendio.”

Hermione’s eyes fall onto the bouquet left by Draco in the hall.

Stargazer lilies.

The ache in her chest is unnecessary. Hermione doesn’t need the pang to tell her what she already knows, what she’s known for a while now.

“I miss you, too,” she whispers.

“I…I think we’re good together. Despite what you may have thought about my initial welcoming attitude, I did have doubts, too. But it’s not just the core magic, it’s…you. And I—”

He cuts off, looking embarrassed and frustrated that he can’t quite find the words…

“I’ll expect a new bouquet tomorrow, shall I?”

Red chrysanthemums await her the next day…


Love.


Loving the flowers❤️

“Have you already decided then?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“I’ve decided that I get a choice, too. Not the compatibility test, not the Ministry, I’m the one choosing.” Her lower lip wobbles and she buries her face in Draco’s chest. His arms automatically wind around her. “It isn’t magic that drew me to you, nor this forced situation. It’s you. Exactly as you are.”

Over his shoulder, she spots the latest bouquet in the foyer. A new message indicated with orange roses.

Hermione eagerly reciprocates this sentiment the second Draco arrives home from work that evening…

Desire and enthusiasm.

“Draco? Will you wake me up in the morning?”

“Of course, what time—?”

“With your tongue.”

It’s fun to shock Draco. To make that controlled, marble countenance slip from composed to gobsmacked before he can master it.

“That can be arranged,” he says and Hermione considers his hoarse tone the ultimate victory.

…

“Good girl,” he says…

Well. She’s into praise.

Hermione’s hesitation to do anything to further her own desires only leads to heated stares as they both settle down. Her body is a live wire…

Eventually, his Occlumency wins out, but it’s the longest he’s ever taken to fall asleep.

The following evening, Hermione spies a new bouquet in the foyer.

Calla lily, hibiscus, orchids, peonies.

He’s called her beautiful several times over w this arrangement.

“You technically did already apologize. I own a book on flower language, you know.”
“Of course you do.”
The next afternoon, Hermione comes across the oddest bouquet she’s ever seen in the front hall.
Black-eyed susans (for justice) & chamomile (patience in adversity)...
a few little sprigs of dill: powerful against evil.
But the bit of tansy makes her laugh when she finds the meaning.
Declaring war.

“I bought new flowers. For the front hall. For you.”

Hermione fights back a…laugh, thinking of how displeased Narcissa would be at her son’s attempt at presenting flowers…

“Thank you, Draco.”

“What I meant was: I’m not very good at expressing my true feelings…and you deserve more of those. So many more.”

“White tulips?”…

“I—yes. The tulips.”

White tulips: an apology.

🥹

“I had thought,” he begins… “it might be easier to adjust to our situation if we shared things. Meals, a bed. If that’s not what you want…perhaps I can transfigure the couch into something comfortable.”

She can see what he’s driving at: forced proximity to engender goodwill at least…

“None of this is what I want,” Hermione slurs before her eyes close and sleep claims her.

“George Weasley, I swear to Merlin I am writing to your mother tomorrow,” she grouses. Draco steps around her and stares down at the gift.

“Is that…?”

“A diorama, yes.”

“And is that…?”

“A ferret puppet wearing a blond wig, yes.”

“I actually could use your help with this,” he says and gestures at the gift box. “This package arrived today addressed only to me. A wedding gift, supposedly.”

“Any idea who sent it?”

“George Weasley, according to the tag.”

As she rounds the desk, she can read the card attached…: “To the luckiest of ferrets, best wishes on surviving marriage. Fraternal tidings, George Weasley.”

Hahahahahaha

After arranging the flowers as Draco had suggested, Hermione still can’t shake the memory.
Pulling down a book on bouquet arrangement and flower meanings, her memory is proven correct. Purple clematis is for mental beauty and ingenuity. She runs her finger down the section on irises and… blue can represent courage, wisdom, and admiration. She flips next to statice (blue) and sees… loyalty and intelligence.

“I know you said not to interfere further, but Harry and I may or may not have sent a strongly worded letter to Malfoy,” confesses Ginny…
“I should have known.”
“Ron sent a Howler.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“Luna sent him a book on common poisons and their antidotes. In case you attempted the premature widow route.”
“Kind of her to consider saving me from prison…”

LOL

In the end, she decides that keeping her wand will at least afford her the option of transfiguring her new spouse into a toad if she wishes.

But looking down at the Ministry pronouncement in her hands, she pictures ferrets instead of toads.

She’s set to marry Draco Malfoy in three weeks.

freaking finally dude

“We met at a café. You stole my table.”
Draco wrinkles his nose. “First, it would be the other way round and second, absolutely not.”
i peeped the remain nameless breadcrumb right away zont play

yes jts dramione again so what?!