After the Battle of Hogwarts, Y/N expected greatness. Instead, she inherited debt, a tiny flat above an old plant shop in Diagon Alley, and a greenhouse full of magical flora that no one else seemed interested in saving. She doesn't mind. By day, she keeps the struggling shop afloat with enough hard work to shame a house-elf. By night, she conducts independent research into magical botany—ancient plants, forgotten remedies, and strange magical ecosystems dismissed by the Ministry as impractical. If she ever publishes her findings, it might change modern Herbology. If she can afford the parchment. Draco Malfoy has rebuilt his life just as thoroughly. Years after the war, he's become one of the youngest and most influential officials in the Ministry of Magic, quietly reforming laws that once benefited families like his. The Malfoy fortune has only grown under his careful stewardship, making him one of the richest wizards in Britain. He's respected. He's awkward. He's hopelessly, catastrophically fascinated by the brilliant witch who barely notices he exists. Y/N knows him only as that Ministry official who keeps appearing in her shop asking increasingly transparent questions about venomous vines he has absolutely no business owning. She assumes he's collecting plants. He's actually collecting reasons to see her. When Draco stumbles across her unpublished research, he realizes she's on the verge of a discovery the Ministry has overlooked for decades. Determined to see her work recognized, he quietly begins redirecting grants, funding conservation projects, and dismantling bureaucratic barriers—all without telling her. Y/N, meanwhile, is entirely focused on proving her theory, saving her shop from bankruptcy, and avoiding wealthy Ministry bureaucrats who seem intent on "helping." Especially Draco Mal