flower crowns | drarry

fifteen

fifteen
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harry sat at the gryffindor table with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes, and he could feel his friend's stares taking him in. he knew they were confused. he didn't often look as...well, alive as he did that afternoon.

but spending the night beside draco in the greenhouse was doing good for him. the scent of flowers clung to his clothes, and his fingertips were still a little gritty with dirt. nature had turned the dimming green in his eyes to vibrant emerald once more...and every time he thought of draco against him, sunshine caught on his light lashes and his pink lips puffing out slow breaths as morning approached, his cheeks turned to blooming rose.

he hadn't felt this awake in a good while.

and he guessed it was obvious.

but, he was grateful to his friends, because they knew better than to cause him distress by forcing him to explain himself. happiness was such a fickle thing, and with harry, it could flee at any given moment.

so they simply talked amongst themselves, sharing playful bickers or soft kisses while harry savored his treacle tart.

ron was in the midst of explaining the details of the new dragon charlie was caring for in romania when they heard it.

the sound of jeering voices echoing through the great hall, growing louder and rougher with each passing moment.

"what on earth is going on?" hermione murmured, the familiar distressed crinkle forming between her brows. she peered over harry's head. "is someone having an argument?"

"ugh," ron rolled his eyes, and it was then that harry noticed the slight droopiness around his eyelids. he wondered if he was also having nightmares again. "probably another lover's quarrel."

harry shrugged, licking the taste of raspberry off his lips.

but then hermione's frown deepened, her eyes glowing with realization.

"isn't...isn't that malfoy?"

harry nearly choked.

he was whisking around in his seat before the syllables even left her mouth, panic gripping his heart.

his eyes frantically scanned the green table for draco and spotted his platinum hair almost immediately.

there were three boys standing in front of him. three gryffindors at the slytherin table, and they stood out like a sore thumb, bright red in a sea of green.

they were sixth years, standing in front of the group of former death eaters. harry recalled seeing them once or twice. if he remembered correctly, their names were lucas and eric.

both of them were smiling, but it looked more menacing than friendly. plus, their voices were too obnoxiously loud to be having a polite conversation.

he barely had to strain to hear their jarring words.

"...you guys seem a little to happy for murderers." lucas remarked, sharp eyes determined to cut the frightened slytherins into shattered pieces.

many of the former-death eaters flinched at the last word, shrinking into themselves even further.

harry's face twisted in despair, but before he could act, angry words on the tip of his tongue, hermione grasped his arm in a sharp, vice like grip.