Type: Art & Fic
Beta(s): toblass and CaitWef
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): None.
(Highlight to View) Prompt: Break out of the conventions; do a portrait of Severus and Hermione in an unconventional style or medium. (For example: cubism, abstract expressionism, cave paintings, silhouettes, quilting, quilling, decoupage, glitter glue, etc. etc. SS/HG or SS & HG.)
Note: Thank you to Pauline, and Meltell for cheerleading through the hours it took to carve this, to Cait for trimming and resizing for me, and to Toblass for betaing the text. You're all the best!!!
Summary: A moment in the greenhouse.
The witch and wizard walk in silence, for the language of flowers is a quiet thing. The grass is warmed by the sun, but the Scottish spring air keeps them cool in their heavy robes, even as he holds open the greenhouse door.
Neither dares to speak, as she is uncertain how to begin, and he doesn't know how to bare his heart. They've danced around the topic all year, and now that the castle was quiet over break, they had taken the time to try.
They stroll, him pausing and trying to speak but leaving the words unsaid.
Her hands trail over the carefully-trimmed flowers, kept free of thorns, and breaks off a few stems. She hands him the first with a small smile. They are only rose leaves, saying silently that he may hope, and his harsh features soften.
She hands him the second: a single bud. Her small confession of love is taken with gentle fingers and he casts about the greenhouse before finding what he seeks.
He plucks a single calla lily, but before she can speak, he brushes it across her cheek before laying it upon the ground. A sombre foundation, but not held in hand. The sun from the windows lights her, while he stands partially in shadow beneath a hanging planter. They both find the other beautiful in this moment.
Her heart pounds and she hands him the final stem: a rose in full bloom. He kisses the velvet petals and tucks it into her hair, acknowledging her words of love. It does not escape their notice that the flowers she's chosen are both white, and he leaves her side just long enough to find one more flower.
She accepts the lily of the valley from him, and mimics his earlier action, kissing the delicate blooms before placing it in his buttonhole.
They walk a little longer, their hands entwined.
No words are spoken, for everything has been said.