This is my first story, and will only be a one-shot. Please enjoy!
It was perfect. We were in the garden, strolling through the roses. Your pale fingers were clasped around mine. Every once in a while, you would turn to me and kiss the top of my head. I would giggle, and then peck your soft lips. We would both smile, and then walk on.
The feel of your skin on mine, the sweet sound of your voice, even the sound of silence when you would just stand there like the god you were.
I always wondered why you loved me. And yes,, I know you did. You can't kiss a person like that and not love them. I was just a simple girl. I never tried out for the Quidditch team, but you were Captain. I was a wallflower, but everyone knew your name. Why would a man like yourself fall in love with a dreamer with a lost cause?
If you told me that, love, maybe I would have more answers. Thinking back on that now, your mysteries were what first made me love you. But I learned other things about you.
That you loved green apples, since you had them for breakfast every sweet childhood summer.
I found that you always wanted to see what it was like to die, but I always told you life didn't work that way.
You always said you could.
I would laugh, and then you would kiss my nose.
God, if only it could have always been like that. I will always wish to take back the words I said in a fight, or if I could have never slapped you that night at three a.m. If only I knew.
Everything changed that night. I remember I was sitting in the library with you. Your head was in my lap and I was mindlessly stroking your fine hair. There was this tune I kept humming, and you eventually asked me what it was. "What a Wonderful World," I answered, humming louder.
"Sing it," you demanded, but in a soft and loving voice.
"I see trees of green…red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself…what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue…and clouds of white The bright blessed day…the dark sacred night And I think to myself…what a wonderful world."
I didn't like to sing, but you always liked to hear me. I bet once a day you'd make me sing a verse to a song. We both agreed, in secret, that our kind's music wasn't good, but people like Louis Armstrong were heroes.
After I finished singing, something crashed downstairs. We both jumped up and hurried down the stairs. Well, you tried to make me stay up there, but I would, of course, never let you go into dangers alone.
We were surrounded, two to twelve, easy. "The Minister has ordered all Death Eaters that fought during the Battle of Hogwarts to be executed."
My heart broke. I knew even you, the best duelist I've ever seen, couldn't beat twelve armed Aurors. I knew you would try and fail, even then.
"No!" I shouted, trying to put myself in front of you. I felt your arms shake with the fear of death. You told me once, in much peacefully times, that death was your worst fear. After all you'd done, you weren't sure where you would go. But I always said a man that could love is a man that is Heaven-bound.
"Remember the roses, love," that's the last thing you've ever said to me. A bright, blinding, and cruel light flashed from one man. I screamed, but it was useless. You lay cold, dead, and gone on the floor.
There was no blood, and I wasn't aloud to have a funeral, but I did burry you. I'm sorry about that, love. For a long time, I hoped that you would show up, silvery and transparent, but there. But after a year, I gave up hope that I would still have you.
The years past, days flew by. I found my first grey hair exactly three years after you died. My first wrinkle was six months after that. Yes, I've aged quiet a bit. But you are still the twenty year old angel.
One thing I wished I told you before was that I was three months pregnant with our only heir; Antoinette. She was a Slytherin, and she was Captain and Seeker for two years. But every night before she went to bed; I sang "What a Wonderful World."
I see trees of green…red roses too I see them bloom…for me and you And I think to myself…what a wonderful world. I see skies of blue…clouds of white The bright blessed day…the dark sacred night And I think to myself…what a wonderful world. The colors of the rainbow…so pretty…in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do They're really saying…I love you. I hear babies cry…I watch them grow They'll learn much more than I'll never know And I think to myself…what a wonderful world Yes I think to myself…what a wonderful world.
She's grown up now, married off and lives in London, we have grandchildren now, too, and a great-grandchild. It's been years since you've died. Half a decade and another decade. I haven't married again; my girlfriends have stopped trying to set me up on a date. I've only ever loved you.
Today's your eightieth birthday. I'm standing beside your grave, crying. Antoinette stopped coming with me after she married, but I always find a daisy beside your tombstone. But, like you said, I never forgot the roses. Each year I put a rose on your grave. Always red.
I'm old, sweetheart, and I've never truly lived in sixty years. It's sad that neither of us really saw her grow up. Now she has wrinkles and is getting grey, too. The world seemed to have aged, too. The great age of Harry Potter is gone. All we have left is the memories and the stories.
I went to sleep tonight while thinking of you. I tried to imagine you with grey hair and wrinkles. But you were never meant to be old. You were meant to die young.
I am having a wonderful dream now. We are walking through the roses, and now I know it's a everlasting, wonderful world.
