"He loves me, he loves me not…"

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters do not belong to me… So please, don't sue me… I'm just a poor child…

Author's Note: It came to me when I thought of this moment in life when I'd be the one picking at a flower… It's weird… but hey, I tried… To all ye flamers, don't waste your time!  I'd appreciate nicer comments and suggestions than you're friggin words!

Draco Malfoy plucked gently on the dark red rose.  He sorted through his thoughts aimlessly, hoping only to find some comfort in the deed and the memories that brought true joy to him.

He sighed softly to himself.  He was thankful that no one knew where he was that day, the day everyone else went to Hogsmeade.  He desperately wanted some time alone.

He loves me… He pulled out a soft petal and stared at it for a moment then let it fall onto his bed sheets, his velvety soft bed sheets.  He stared at it again as it made no sound at all as it just lay there, unmoving and quiet.

"Does he truly?" He thought bitterly.  He formed the fine outline of the boy standing in the hallway.

He plucked out another one.  He loves me not… He thought, almost bitterly.  He watched the petal float lightly to the rumpled cloth.  He bit his lip.

"That's most probable…" he uttered smugly.  The outline faded away to nothing in his mind.

Draco plucked yet another one, letting it rest softly on the sheets.  He loves me… he thought longingly.

"It feels so strange to…" Draco sighed as the fine outline flashed back up in his mind again and this time with a blurry contrast.

Draco plucked a small petal and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment before letting it fall.  He loves me not… He frowned as the petal landed close to the previous petal.

"I could change…" he reconsidered.  The figure in his mind faded again.

He loves me… He thought as he plucked out a fairly bigger  one and let it rest on his hand.

"We all wish that…" He said sadly as he let the petal fall.  The figure flashed back yet again, this time a bit more clearly.  The figure had some black hair and some round glasses.

He sighed, figuring out the pattern.

"I have all day… I might as well take it slow…" he said to himself while pulling out a petal.

He loves me not… he thought again, the figure fading and disappearing in his mind.

"He never really liked me… from the day we met…" he remembered the smaller boy in Madame Malkin's shop that faithful day.

He paused as he attempted to pluck out another petal.

"Can I really hope that he will love me?" he thought as he pulled it out, a soft tick sounding off as he did so.

He loves me… He nearly smiled.  The figure appeared again in his mind, the dark hair blowing in the wind and the bright green eyes glittering under the round glasses.  It was still quite blurred though.

"When can a Malfoy learn?" Draco spurted out bitterly, the name becoming a curse to him.

He loves me not… He looked at the petal that fell onto the bed sheets silently.

"I know he never will love me…" he grimaced.  The figure faded away again.  He wanted to just chase that figure and just shake it clear to embrace warmly.

He plucked a petal again, blowing it in the air and watching it settle down gently.  He loves me… he sighed.

"Isn't there such a thing as freedom and justice in this world?" he nearly chuckled but he was in no such mood.  The figure came back.  This time, the figure was clearer but not at its clearest.  The boy was waving cheerfully at Draco and was beckoning him to come to him.

He knew what he had to do.

"I can't dwell on dreams…" he said while plucking out another petal, a really small petal.  "Interesting… it's like a tear… my tear…"

He loves me not… the petal fell to the velvet, near the other petals.  The figure faded out again.

"I can't dwell on nightmares either…" Draco smirked while toying with a petal he had plucked off.

The blonde let the petal float in the air lazily as he thought, He loves me…

The figure appeared again.  His eyes glittered warmly and his smile was warm and inviting.  The boy's arms were held out, as if waiting for someone to come to embrace him.  Draco smiled as he breathed in deeply.

"I hate reality…" Draco muttered while plucking another petal.

He loves me not… the figure faded out.  Draco sat in bed, pondering when it would end.  Twelve petals, he had counted, twelve times the figure had appeared and disappeared…

"My honor and blood ties bind me… yet, my heart is so enraptured by him…" Draco whispered sadly while plucking out the last petal.

He loves me… Draco smiled as he closed his eyes to envision it fully and peacefully.  The boy appeared, the clearest he could ever be in Draco's mind.  Draco's hands quivered and his legs itched to run up to the black-haired, green-eyed boy that stood there in the darkness, arms stretched out to embrace him, eyes glittering warmly and lovingly at him.

"He loves me…" Draco opened his eyes, the figure a blurry mark in his mind's eye, a blurry mark in front of him.  As his vision cleared, he saw the blurry mark not moving but not disappearing either!  Instead, it began to grow clearer and clearer until who stood in front of the startled blonde boy was the clearest he could be.

"Ha—Potter…" Draco uttered, half-sarcastic, half-startled.

The boy walked towards him thoughtfully.

"H—how?!  W—what?!" Draco stared, his eyes cracked with shock and embarrassment.

"You know me, Malfoy, or should I say, Draco…" Harry Potter smiled mischievously.  A piece of parchment stuck out of his pocket—the Marauder's Map.

"W—what are you talking about?" Draco backed away, having been caught off guard by this sudden intrusion in his own dormitory.

"You should know by know, Draco…" Harry sat on the bed, his fingers running along the velvet folds, the silk-like petals.  Draco stared blankly at him.  "I heard you." He confessed.

Draco's eyes widened into fear.

"Don't worry… I assure you, I won't let a word slip…" Harry crossed his heart.  "Draco Malfoy, do you love me too?"

Draco gasped for breath as he sat up from bed.  The moonlight spilled into the dormitory room, sending slivers of thin light through the small windows.

"What sort of dream?" he breathed while running his hands through his smooth, blonde hair.

He started to gather his blankets around him to go back to sleep when something unfamiliarly soft and silky touched his skin.  He quickly repelled his hands and peered through the darkness.

He could make out some pretty small shapes, tear-like but rounded shapes on his blankets.  They were a different color since they didn't blend in with the green velvet of the sheets.  They were dark, smooth and… red…

The shaking boy reached down to pick up the familiar things and managed to get one.  He held it up to the moonlight and saw it was a petal, a rose petal, a red rose petal…