Title: Let Me Count the Ways
Author: Susannah Wilde
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Word Count: 2941 words
Rating: PG
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This is inspired by one of the random class notes I had scribbled down in my Botany journal and partly by watching my younger cousins play the game mentioned in the fic. For simplicity's sake, I'm only going to use sepals and petals to prove a point in the fic, but I'm aware that there are other flower parts that can be mistaken as petals. Thanks to my beta R and to the mods for hosting this fest and providing a free posting week when I couldn't post on my original date. Written for the HD Cliche fest on LJ for the cliche secret relationship. Title taken from the 43rd Sonnet from Sonnets of the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Summary: Draco knows it's a good thing a person's love isn't dependent on something that withers and dies.

Let Me Count the Ways

The bouquet has one white lily in its centre, but it's surrounded with some that Harry has never seen before. The lilies range from various shades of pale pink and yellow, to deep red and bright orange lilies, all tied together with a green ribbon. Nevertheless, the bouquet looks beautiful amidst the crumpled parchment, broken quills, and spilled ink that litters Harry's desk.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" Ginny asks, arms crossed as she sits on the edge of Harry's seat.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, ever since I broke up with you, I've see many women send you various gifts on your birthday: flowers, chocolate, ill-disguised love potions, but this is the first time I've actually seen you not Incendio anything."

"Not true." Harry points to the wall behind him where all his awards are displayed. Next to his Order of Merlin, First Class, a Snitch, one of the first Ginny caught as a Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies, hangs proudly.

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Besides family and friends."

Harry doesn't answer as he transfigures a quill into a vase and places the flowers inside and casts an Aguamenti. He arranges them so they catch the best light from the enchanted window and then sets the vase next to a photograph of his parents. Lily smiles at the flowers before pointing them out to James.

"Was there a note?"

"No, they were already here when I returned from lunch, but considering that they didn't send me roses, I'd say they know me pretty well."

"Or did their research well," Ginny mutters under her breath. At this remark, Harry smiles and points to the centre of the bouquet.

This sparks Ginny's interest. She scoots the chair over and looks at him for permission before she takes the only white lily, bringing it up to her nose to smell it. "You didn't tell me you were dating."

Harry doesn't answer, which could mean either way, but she holds the proof in her hands. The lily, with its white petals tinged in green, is one she's only seen growing in one place. She's seen it placed on the memorial to his parents in Godric's Hollow. It is a species that Harry had Neville create and cultivate after the war, something different to represent his mother's sacrifice. While everyone could see the memorial, only those Harry trusted could see it growing in the gardens of his family's home.

"Are you?" she asks again, lifting her head to look straight at him. He can't look away and he can spot the exact moment she confirms her suspicions because she grabs him by the arms and exclaims, "I knew it! I told Mum that I thought you were finally seeing someone, but she didn't-wouldn't- believe it. She says you're just waiting for the right moment for us to get back together." Harry grimaces. If Ginny proclaiming that she was too young to settle down and marry at twenty-seven, much less have children, couldn't get across to Mrs Weasley, then he wonders how she'll react to this news. Not in any good way like Ginny, he's certain, and the small burst of panic sets in.

"You can't tell anyone. I mean it, Ginny. We want to keep it private."

"Don't worry, I don't think anyone knows, or it would have made the Prophet already. Still, I thought you would have at least told me, or Hermione and Ron." She settles back into the chair, fiddling with the stem. "How long have you been dating?'

He can't bring it to lie to Ginny and it feels great to finally tell someone. "A little over a year."

"A year!" she exclaims. At her outcry, Harry looks away to stare out the window so he wouldn't have to see the look on her face, but still manages to catch her words. "Yeah, that's about right. You have been happier since your last birthday."

The joy Harry feels is short-lived as it seems that Ginny has become his personal Rita Skeeter as she begins to spit out questions faster than he can answer. "Who is she? Do I know her? Where did you meet? Do you lo-"

"He," Harry blurts out and that has her so surprised that she stops talking. Her eyes widen and Harry can almost see how fast she processes that information, information that opens up new possibilities, signs that she missed over the years, but then she nods. "It makes sense."

"How? Up until now, I've always dated women."

"Exactly! Your track record with women is pitiful. No offense," she adds. "I don't know about your other girlfriends, but with me, you were just settling. You already had your life planned out: have a successful career as an Auror, settle down and get married, and years later, have children, whose names you've already picked out. I'm not saying that what you want is wrong, but the way I see it, anyone could have filled that void, and that's something that I wouldn't put up with."

"The way you analyse it makes me seem horrible."

"Not horrible, as I don't regret the time we had, but sometimes it seemed that you were better off being by yourself, because every time you were with someone, you weren't happy. You kept searching for something," she reaches over and holds up his parents' photograph, "and it took me a while to realise you wanted something like they had."

It's true, he realises as he looks back at every relationship he's had since Ginny. While he never found fault with any woman, it was he who didn't allow himself to get close, wouldn't commit. Every time they had a serious discussion about the future, he drew a blank and couldn't imagine living with them. And his girlfriends have tried. They would start by leaving behind a trinket or an article of clothing after spending the night, and then progress to where he would wake up one morning with his closet filled with clothing that weren't his. When they eventually left, Harry would go through his flat and Vanish things until it felt like home again.

Taking advantage of Harry's preoccupation, Ginny asks, "Do you love him?"

He answers without thinking, "Without any doubt."

Ginny is pleased. "Good, it seems like you're finally gotten over your chest monster issues and can finally admit to liking someone," she teases.

"Oh, gods Ginny, let it go. Might I remind you that there was a war going on when I said that and didn't have time to think about relationships." Harry runs a hand through his hair and then reaches inside his pocket for a cigarette before he remembers that he gave up that habit six months ago. Instead, he drums his fingers on the desk and sighs.

Meanwhile, Ginny looks thoughtful as she twists the lily in her hand. "Does he love you?"

Harry hesitates. That's a question that's kept him awake many nights and he still hasn't come up with a definitive answer. While he's certain that he's found someone he considers his equal, and someone who wouldn't put up with any of his shit, there's only so much having sex, fantastic sex at that, can mean without hearing an I love you.

"I think- I hope- It's complicated," he says at last.

Although Ginny frowns at those words, all she says is, "Oh, you deserve so much more than that." It's not pity in her voice, Harry thinks, but he can definitely hear some sadness and he tries to think of anything to change the topic.

Unfortunately, Ginny has other plans as she asks, "Do you want to find out?"

"The last of my stock of Veritaserum was used on a suspect this morning."

"No, nothing like that. It's something Lavender Brown swore by when she taught it to me. It's how she finally convinced herself to kiss Ron in sixth year." Harry gives her an incredulous look, but Ginny ignores him. She puts the white lily back into the vase and chooses an orange lily with long petals and dark spots in the centre. She hands him the lily and brings his fingers so that they hover over the petals. "It's not an exact science since it's a children's game, but Teddy's done the same with daisies multiple times and he's always received the same answer."

Perhaps there's some truth in these innocent children's games, Harry thinks, seeing as his godson and Victoire are engaged.

"Go ahead and pluck a petal off." Harry carefully tears the long orange petal and holds it in his hands, catching a whiff of the fragrance. "That means he loves you."

"How do you know?"

"Don't question it; it's magic. Besides, you need to remain positive." She gestures for him to do it again.

He tears off another petal, "loves you not," Ginny declares, and two more in quick succession before he realises what the outcome is. He tears off one more "loves me," before letting the stem with one lone petal drop to the floor.

"So that's that," he says and picks up another quill to continue his paperwork. He shouldn't feel crushed, after all, how many times have things ever gone right in his life?

"Don't stop now, Harry, you're supposed to do the entire bouquet." Ginny leans forward to grab another lily, but Harry Accios the vase towards him, shaking his head.

"It's no use, Ginny. If he can't tell me, then how's a simple game supposed to tell me? Even if I blow the seeds off a dandelion, I can't wish it true."

"Then why are you with someone who you're unsure of if he loves you?"

"Is someone finally admitting to not loving the Savior?" a voice calls out from the door. Harry turns to find Draco Malfoy, who has returned to the office to fill out paperwork after having showered at his home. He wore not the traditional Auror robes, but simple grey dress robes, opened to reveal black slacks and a dark blue silk shirt. He looked ready to go out than to spend an evening at the office.

"None of your business, Malfoy," Ginny snaps as grabs her wand to point it at Malfoy. Harry shakes his head. Even years after being Auror partners with Malfoy and the two of them still couldn't be civil with each other.

"Yet his life is plastered in the Prophet almost daily. However, Witch Weekly provides much better reading material." Malfoy holds up the magazine that has Harry featured on the cover, taken at the most recent anniversary of the war. He's dressed in his best robes, new green ones bought for the occasion, and his face is serious as he's about to give a speech. "How else would I know 10 Ways to Drive Harry Potter Wild in Bed?"

Ginny opens her mouth to argue, but Harry quickly interrupts her, saying, "All right, all right. That's enough. My sex life is not a topic to be discussed for your leisure, especially here at the Ministry."

One quick look at Harry's face, his cheeks turning red, and Ginny lowers her wand. "Fine, I'll leave. Before I forget, Mum told me to remind you to arrive early at the Burrow for your birthday dinner."

"The Burrow? What happened to meeting at the Golden Phoenix?"

"She wants a private dinner to make you feel more comfortable." She gives him a kiss on his cheek before heading towards the door. "Oh, and bring your boyfriend, Harry. I'll make sure that everyone behaves." She says this last bit with a hint of a sneer at Malfoy before leaving.

Malfoy crosses his arms as he steps inside the room and closes the doors wandlessly. "It must not be a great birthday if the only present you seemed to have received, you destroyed." Malfoy's voice is veiled, making it harder to know what he's thinking; at this point, Harry would welcome even the smallest hint of rage.

Instead, Harry Vanishes the mess with a flick of his wand and is startled when Malfoy stands next to him, shoulders touching.

"They are beautiful, Draco. Thank you," Harry says at last.

"Then why was she ripping them to shreds?"

"She was actually surprised to find them on my desk-"

Malfoy raises an eyebrow before lifting the bouquet and untying the ribbon. "What, was she breaking the flower apart to search for hints of Amortentia?"

"Far from it. She found out that I'm dating someone, so she wanted to see if they loved me back using a children's game."

Instead of the laughter Harry expects to hear, Malfoy just smiles, easing the lines on his forehead and the corners of his eyes, making him see more relaxed in Harry's presence. "I understand you believing a prophecy, but a silly game?"

Harry drops his shoulders, the only sign he'd let the other man see how much his words affected him. "It might have been childish," he says, before Summoning his cloak, "but how else am I supposed to know that you love me if you won't say it?"

"Then it's a good thing a person's love isn't dependent on something that withers and dies."

Harry shakes his head. Draco still doesn't get it. "It would be nice to know." He turns around but doesn't get far, seeing as Draco grabs the back of his cloak and pulls him closer.

"Sometimes I wonder, had you only relied on your intelligence and none of the foolish Gryffindor bravery, would you still be here right now?" Malfoy pulls him closer to his chest, feeling Harry tremble, from nerves or anger, he's not quite sure, but he does know he needs to set things right.

"I don't say that phrase because it's thrown around too much and has lost its meaning." Harry shivers as Draco's breath tickles his ears. "As for the flower, I know you didn't pay much attention in Herbology, but didn't Longbottom teach you anything? All flowers are dicots or monocots, primarily based on the shape and style of the petals. And while you have chosen a monocot, a flower whose petals come in multiples of threes, the lily, like many other flowers, appears to have six petals, ensuring that no one loves you if you follow that game."

Draco turns Harry around so that he can stare into his green eyes before he reaches down to pick up Lily's lily and tears off the bottom three petals. He holds them out in his hand and says, "These are sepals, fused to the stem, but not true petals." He snaps the stem off so that it leaves three inches and uses the green ribbon to bind it to the front of Harry's shirt. "Luckily, my au pair was fond of playing this game with her various boyfriends, so I remember enough to know you're doing it wrong."

Draco cups Harry's chin, his thumb rubbing along the stubbled jawline as he lifts Harry's chin to see his eyes. With his other hand, Harry can feel Draco touching each petal as he begins to whisper.

"Je t'aime un peu…"

Harry's eyes widen as he hears the unfamiliar French words escape Draco's lips. There is something wonderful about being told he is loved in a different language and Harry finally understands Draco's obsession with him speaking Parseltongue in bed. This is better than he ever expected.

"Je t'aime beaucoup…"

Up close, Harry can see the grey in Draco's eyes, open and earnest, making him feel like nothing else mattered. His heart, which is beating madly against his chest, almost stops when he hears the next words.

"Je t'aime passionnément… Do you understand?"

Before Harry can nod, Draco kisses him. It's gentle, like the first time last year when he wasn't certain how Harry would react to being kissed after taking a bite of birthday cake. He teases Harry's lips before pressing down until Harry loses his resolve and opens his mouth, letting Draco take his breath away.

When they break apart, Harry is grinning stupidly because he's sure he looks like a hot mess. The only consolation he receives is that Draco looks the same, if not worse, than him, with mussed hair and kiss-bruised lips. However, with a few flicks of Draco's wand, their clothes are wrinkle-free and Draco's hair is back to its pristine state.

"Have I finally convinced you?" At Harry's nod, Draco smiles. "Good. Now let's leave, as I've a date with my boyfriend and you're making me terribly late."

Harry flicks his wand to arrange the parchment on his desk into neat piles before putting on his cloak. The paperwork can be left for another day. "Where are we going?" As far as Harry knows, he's to go to the Burrow alone.

Draco's smile turns into a wicked grin as he points to the copy of Witch Weekly on his desk. "I've got to give you another birthday shag before you introduce me to your family."

This has Harry stopping in his tracks as he can hardly believe the words he's just heard. Surely he must be dreaming. "You're coming to the Burrow?"

"Of course I'm going. I'm practically the guest of honour, especially since Ginevra insisted. I must attend, if only to see the priceless looks on their faces as we walk in together. Wouldn't it be one of the-"

His voice fades away as Harry, who has received some of the best presents of his life this year, laces their fingers together before stepping out of the office to greet the world.