Chapter 19: A Rose is A Rose is A Rose

Dedicated to GryffGirl7, for writing the most amusing comment I've recieved so far :)

Wow. Did not expect 104 votes in twenty-four hours. To say that I am shocked would be a serious understatement. I'd like to thank each and every single one of you for voting. I thought I was delusional from lack of sleep when I saw my vote count this morning.

The picture is pretty.

The video kind of fits a part of this story, much to my surprise.

Now that I have explained the stuff on the side (whew!)...

Enjoy!

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 “Life is a Rose; beware of the thorns”

                                                                                    -Unknown

            “I didn’t know you could cook,” Hermione commented the next morning, quite surprised at seeing Draco in the kitchen. 

            “I can’t,” Draco replied as he finished the last of his scrambled egg. “But Pokey can. The food is in the kitchen, by the way.”

            “Who’s Pokey?” Hermione asked curiously as she munched on a slice of green apple.

            “She is my house elf,” Draco replied. “I’m usually never home, so she cooks and cleans then goes back to the manor.”

            “So where are you usually, if you are never at home? It doesn’t seem like you work much.”

            “I’m usually always at conferences around the world. This month just has been less hectic than usual. But I’m suppose to be at a conference in Switzerland, in an hour,” replied Draco glancing at his watch.

            “When are you coming back?” asked Hermione.

            “Tomorrow night. Would you care to accompany me?” Draco asked suddenly, shocking himself.

            “Me?! No! What would I do at your conference?”

            “The conference is just for a few hours in the morning. After that you could explore Switzerland.”

            “Thank you for the kind offer. But I have to work,” Hermione replied apologetically.

            “On a Saturday?” Draco asked skeptically.

            “The Law Enforcement department has to do extra hours. And as the head of the department, I can’t skip it.”

            “Well, if you change your mind, the address is on my desk,” Draco added rising to leave.

            “Are you leaving already?” Hermione asked.

            “Yes. See you tomorrow.”

            “Bye.”

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            When Hermione walked into her office a few hours later, she was too shocked by the sight in front of her to step forward. She hoped with all her heart that Parvati wasn’t here yet. For if she was here, gossip would spread like wildfire throughout the Ministry as well as the Wizarding World courtesy of one Lavender Brown.

            “What are you trying to do?” asked Blaise, walking in the room after Hermione. “Turn your office into a botanical garden?”

            “No, not me. But your best mate sure is,” Hermione replied as she fingered the soft petals of a white rose. The entire room was filled with dozens of bouquets of different types and kinds of flowers. Hermione walked over to the biggest bouquet that was sitting on her desk and extracted the card from it.

            Hermione shook her head with a smile on her face. She quickly scribbled a note.

            After she finished the note and sent it, she directed her attention to her work with a smile still lingering on her face. 

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Just as she was about to go home, quite a few hours later, a large owl came swishing in through her open window with a single red rose and a letter.

            Hermione looked quizzically at the note. It was printed on fancy stationary instead of Draco’s usual handwriting on regular paper. But what was even more puzzling was the way the letter was addressed. Draco’s usual letters usually always began with ‘Dear Insufferable Know-It-All’ or ‘Dear Beaver,’ never before did they start with ‘Dear Hermione.’ And had he ever signed a letter with ‘Love Draco Malfoy.’

            “The loneliness must be getting to his head,” Hermione told herself as she disapparated home before heading to Switzerland.

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            As the grandfather clock chimed eight, Hermione cast one last look at her reflection before apparating to Ritz Hotel in Switzerland.

            When she opened her eyes, she was awed by her surroundings. She was standing in front of a magnificent hotel, more like a castle, surrounded by snow. She entered the hotel and walked up to the lobby.

            “Can you please tell me if Draco Malfoy is in right now?” Hermione asked the clerk at the front desk.

            “He isn’t in right now, but if you want to wait for him in the l--. Oh, he just walked in,” replied the clerk.