|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2017-02-14 10:14:00
|Entry tags:||hp ficlets draco/harry|
HP ficlet: The Scent of Lilacs [Draco/Harry, general]
Title: The Scent of Lilacs
Length: 400 words
Summary: It's a spring afternoon at Malfoy Manor.
Note: For enchanted_jae, who gave the prompts "lilacs, nest, pink."
The lilacs were in full bloom, suffusing the garden with their sweet aroma, so heightened by the unseasonably warm sun that just breathing made Harry drowsy.
He sat down on the close-cropped green lawn and leaned back against a white-barked birch. From here he could see birds—he didn't know what kind they were—circling and darting into the trees that marched like sentinels down one side of the path, visiting their nests, he assumed.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked Draco lazily. "It seems to me like it's been a good visit so far. At least, neither of your parents has tried to hex my balls off yet. Or maybe they're waiting for the day we leave, as a special send-off?"
Draco snorted. "I wouldn't put it past my father, actually. Mother rather likes you though. As much as she'd like any man in my life, that is."
"Yes, well." Harry took Draco's hand. "She doesn't get to make that decision, does she?" He ran his thumb along the soft skin inside Draco's wrist and watched as his face turned pink.
"No." Draco took a deep breath. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. You're nearly a full-fledged Auror now, just another month of training and then the exams—"
"Which won't be easy," Harry interrupted.
"Which you'll pass with no problems," insisted Draco, "and then you'll be assigned to who knows what. I've looked into it, Harry. One in five Aurors doesn't make it five years. And it's not that they transfer out. They die. You've always been lucky, as well as good at the sort of thing Aurors do, but eventually luck runs out. Whereas me, I'll be plodding along as the most junior wizard of the Pest Advisory Board. I know, you're positive I'll move up to a better position soon, but realistically? No. Maybe in a few years. Maybe."
"So what's your point?" Harry let go of Draco's hand and sat up straight. "Are you—you're not saying you want to break it off, are you?" Suddenly the bright sun seemed dim.
"No!" Draco swallowed visibly. "No. Harry. Will you marry me?"
The light broke up into rainbows as Harry blinked hard to clear his vision. "Yes. Of course. Draco."
For the rest of their lives, the scent of lilacs would bring back that moment in the garden.