This was an unabashed gift to self. I hope that in sharing it, it’s also a gift to all you wonderful people too.
2021 was such a goddamn year. It held a lot of firsts for me.
I am lucky in so many, many ways, and one of them was becoming honest about what I like, and doubling-down in those areas. Digging into the social side of the world of fandom was one of those positive things I accomplished, and I couldn’t be happier.
To celebrate the year in which I finished the story that reintroduced me to fandom, I commissioned one piece by the wonderful @mad1492. When she sent the sketches for two options, my heart overflowed, and I asked for both.
Wishing everyone a wonderful new year. I’m glad to be done with the past, and look forward to a future where we continue to treat each other with kindness
“I’ve never been in here before,” Harry said, “but what I do know is that these plants weren’t here before. They shot up sometime recently and didn’t stop growing all winter. They seem benign, even considering all the spikes—”
“They’re tea roses,” Draco interrupted him. He looked up, lit by the blue-white light of the dying day, awe in his eyes.
“Roses? Really?”
Draco nodded, lips smashed together.
“Yes.Tea roses, specifically. They’re fragrant, all colours, and they kind of,” he circled a finger tightly, “spiral out from the centre. The more you cut them back, the higher they grow. It’s the wrong season for them, but you said they just appeared?”
“Mmhmm,” Harry sidled behind Draco, whose outstretched hand brushed against a branch, fingertip light against a thorn the size of his pinky nail. “I do know them, actually. There was a bush my aunt made me hack down and rip out. It never bloomed for her.”
“These are two stories high, already,” Draco gasped. “They’ll be so beautiful when they bloom. These will, for us. You can see the buds pushing in already—see?”
Something became clear for Harry, the reverential way that Draco spoke about them. He hugged him closely from behind, soaking in his scent, sending hot breath down his collar as he settled his chin on his shoulder.
“They’re your favourite, aren’t they?”
Draco didn’t say anything, but Harry thought that had more to do with tightness in his throat than for lack of wanting.
“I think these are for you,” he whispered into his ear. “The house must have missed you while you were away. I know I missed you.”
“If you say something corny to me about moving in and putting down roots, I’ll sock you directly in the bollocks,” Draco drawled, so Harry only tugged him closer and smiled, thinking of tea, and futures filled with gifts fit for princes.
They didn’t mean to meet each other at night in the dark quiet corridors during their 8th year. They just were trying to runaway from the nightmares, stares, praises and judgement. One night they just ran into each other.
