Disclaimer: Yep, don't own the Harry Potter universe, just my little character, her family, and places not mentioned in the book. Nor do I own West Side Story; any reference is for sheer enjoyment.
When the Last Snow Falls
By Triforce Knight
My Dearest Daughter,
Everyday I note that it is one day closer to your return home for Christmas. Your brother, Nathaniel, constantly pesters me as to when he will get to see you, and if we will meet you at the platform when you get in in five days time. Every time that he asks, I always remind him that we won't be able to see you until the evening of your arrival because we will still be in Rome.
Speaking of your return, seeing as how your brother and I will be visiting your grandmother in Rome, and with your father busy at the ministry, we have arranged for a ministry car to pick you up and escort you home. If you have some unfinished Christmas shopping to attend to, inform the driver, and he will be your escort until you decide to head to the estate. Remember, we are celebrating the holidays at your father's mother's estate.
The day after your arrival, I have arranged for you and I to go to London to pick up your gown for the ball, possibly have lunch, and meet with Adalia about that internship. Of course, you won't be spending that much time there with your betrothal, and practical lessons on being a proper hostess.
Your Loving Mother
I mentally snorted as I shoved the letter back into its envelope. Of course my mother was going to remind me of the fact that the last Christmas I'd be having while attending Hogwarts, I would be forced to fulfill my obligations as the daughter of a prominent pureblood family.
What also made me snort was the fact that the Hogwarts Express left tomorrow, and not in five days.
It is tradition that on the Christmas when a pureblood daughter is seventeen, a ball is held to announce her arrival into the society, and her future husband. The problem is that these are arranged marriages; I won't find out who I am to marry until the name is announced, and have no say in the matter.
Hopefully I won't be sold off to someone my father's age. By sold off, I truly mean selling, my father accepts the highest amount of money, wealth, and importance.
Although, I can't say that it is all my father's doing, the choice also has to be agreed upon by the heads of the families, which leaves my father, along with his mother and my maternal grandmother. Both my grandmothers are the exception to the unwritten rules of pureblood society; through their deceased husband's they gained the businesses – which by coincidence is the same – that these husbands owned. The businesses are hospitality, resorts and spas which only pureblood families gain access to, one in the British countryside, and the other along the Italian coast.
So, this ball that my mother mentioned is unfortunately, MY ball, to announce my coming out and upcoming betrothal, entirely due to the fact that my birthday is on the 20 of May. Of course, mother would remind me via owl post at breakfast two days before I left Hogwarts for the holidays.
"Hey, Gwen," a voice broke through my mental fuming, "you might want to eat something before we head to classes."
"Not hungry Toby," I muttered in reply, "too much to think about."
Toby was my housemate and long time guy friend. A 7th year Ravenclaw, he could rightly claim that his favorite past time was studying, and that research was fun. Still, he had a wicked sense of humor, despite the dark times that we were living in, and how much he must feel targeted.
"Eat something, today's double potions, then muggle studies, and defense against the dark arts, all before lunch," Toby informed me, while shoving a piece of buttered toast into my hand.
Taking the toast, I looked over to the staff table and shot a quick glare at our latest teaching additions, the Carrow siblings. The two of them were glaring at the emptiness of the Griffindor and Hufflepuff tables, which seemed to be diminishing in numbers throughout the course of the year. Not as many of Ravenclaws were gone, and no one was absent from the Slytherin table.
"Nasty piece of work those two," Toby muttered under his breath, "if I knew where those students were disappearing to, I would gladly join them. Feels spooky with the lack of students."
"Well, neither one of us joined that organization in fifth year," I noted.
"But I think that I'm the only muggle born student here," he whispered, looking around uncertainly.
I cringed at his comment. Ever since the Dark Lord gained power, it was brought up on a normal basis of the fact that Toby's blood status was below a certain group. I normally ignored when other people talked about it, but I couldn't avoid it when Toby spoke up.
"You're alright as long as you're my friend, and I vouch for you," I whispered back to him.
Like Malfoy prior to Lucius' arrest, my father was high standing in the Ministry, and no one would dare mess with his daughter. Although he wasn't a marked Death Eater, he stood for the cause of eradicating people not born of pure wizard family blood. Although never meeting Toby, my father believed the idea that Toby was acting as my body guard, keeping unworthy boys away from me, and making sure that no one could do harm towards me.
"Miss Finley," a cold voice drawled behind me, "a word please."
"Of course Headmaster," I replied, turning to face our former Potions Master, Snape.
"My office."
"Yes Headmaster," I said, following him out of the Great Hall.
Although not a Slytherin, Snape was not a complete ass to Ravenclaw. His normal billowing cloak wasn't as intimidating as it was when I was in first year; though I admit seeing him at parties outside of school had lessened intimidation and just made me respect him like other professors.
We didn't see any students on our way up to the Headmaster's office. The office looked nearly untouched, but it felt completely different. For one thing, it didn't have the weird, silver instruments that Dumbledore had on the small table (I never could figure out what they were, probably just fancy noisemakers), and the place seemed cold without Fawkes' presence. The portraits eyed us curiously, whispering amongst each other, but Dumbledore's portrait simply winked at me.
"Sit Miss Finley," Snape commanded as he swooped around to take his own seat.
"I wanted to inform you that your parent's sent me an invitation to your coming out ball," he started, "seeing as how I've known you outside of school for many years, and you are competent at Potions, I believe that I owe you a response in person."
"Sir?" I questioned. Snape was not a person known for his rsvp's to be on a personal level.
"Unfortunately, due to this post, I will not be attending the ball. Send my regrets to your parents, as they were the ones who believed that I should attend. I would be lying if I said that I was upset about not attending; you see, whenever I attend those God forsaken parties, I'm reminded as to how the girls' potentials are washed away by these arranged marriages."
How do you think the bride's feel? I asked myself, knowing well enough to speak out loud. For some reason, it felt as though Snape could read my thought, because he sent me a knowing look.
"These are dark times Miss Finley, dangerous for those who do not wish to follow the unwritten rules that society has placed upon them. I do not wish to give you ideas, but since you are old enough to cast magic without repercussions from the Ministry, I want to ask you, do you truly wish to attend your own party?"
"That's not for me to decide sir," I replied bluntly, "I learned long ago that my role as the daughter to a pureblood family is to wed into another pureblood family, run a pureblood household, and bear little pureblood children to keep pureblood's existing. The only wish I have is that my intended husband will be closer to my age than my father's."
"And if you are wed to an elderly man?"
A lump started to form in my throat; did Snape know who my future husband would be? Father was a normally secretive person, and was not one for gossip. True, there were a few elderly gentleman friends of the family who were widowed, but father didn't seem as keen to accept any of their bids.
Many of the boy's in my year that were pureblooded were either sworn Death Eaters, or the younger sons, meaning that the amount they had for wives were less than that of their elders. From my OWL scores, father wouldn't settle for small bids, and as for Death Eaters, he didn't want him or his family tied to them in any way. He told older Death Eaters that the young men were brash, and he didn't want his daughter to be wed, and then a widow before she was twenty.
"Miss Finley," Snape snapped through my thoughts.
"Sir?"
"I believe that I asked you a question about wedding an older man."
"Well, sir, if I am to wed an older man, then it is a decision amongst my father and grandmothers."
"Very well," he replied, arching an eyebrow, "one last question. What is your relationship with Mr. Hanlder?"
"Well sir, Toby and I have been friends since the train ride during our first year."
"So, you two are just friends?"
"Yes sir."
"And if the moment came that you had choose between your friend's safety and yours, what would you choose?"
"Under technicality sir," I replied, definitely wanting to get off this subject, "you have asked me two questions after your supposed last question."
"Indeed," Snape commented, his eyebrow still arched, "well, I was not expecting an immediate answer to that last question, but I wish for you to dwell upon it. You are dismissed."
"Yes sir," I said as I stood, and left the office as fast as I could without Snape believing I truly wanted to get the hell out of there.
Why was he suddenly interested in my relationship with Toby. Hell, Toby was my friend, my pal, mon ami, and I believed that he thought the same way about me. We went to Hogsmeade together, in the past that is, Hogsmeade trips were banned now, possibly so that we couldn't escape Snape and the Carrows's grasp, attended Quidditch matches together. I even invited him to the Quidditch cup three years ago because my dad got tickets. Over the last summer vacation, I met up with him in London one night and we saw a muggle rock band.
Yet, there were times in which I thought of Toby being more than just a friend. For example, we got into an argument when he wanted to ask out Padma Patil. I told him that she wasn't good enough for him, and he thought I was jealous. It was true that I was jealous, but I scoffed his comment, claiming that it was because she had a known thing for Anthony Goldstein. I don't remember how we reconciled, but I know I was miserable up until then.
"Hey, Gwen," Toby's voice called out in the distance, "if we want to get to Potions on time, we need to hustle on down there."
I turned towards him, and I could have sworn my face started to turn red. Not many people would claim that Toby was drop-dead gorgeous, but as I got a closer look at my friend, I could see why many of the girls in Ravenclaw were after his affection. Fairly tall and gangly, not many people would realize that he was one of the new chasers on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. His light brown hair spiked out due to gel, and he admitted that he enjoyed the watermelon scent. His brown eyes gave away his naturally good humor and personality, and his teeth, due to invisible braces, seemed to shine whenever he gave people a grin, goofy or otherwise.
Throughout the rest of the day, I tried to not think about Snape's impromptu interrogation. Potions went alright, I finished the assigned potion with time to spare, and received a compliment from Slughorn, which was rare to those who weren't in his Slug Club. Muggle Studies was boring, Professor Alecto Carrow gave her speech on how muggles were nothing more than animals, which made Toby almost speak out against her. The Dark Arts with Amycus Carrow was also as much to be expected; we learned an invisible curse that caused internal burning to the person inflicted.
"That felt like hell," Toby moaned, "another reason why I can't wait to go home for Christmas, I don't have to be the example."
"I know the counter spell," I whispered as we passed by some Slytherin, "just wait 'til we get up to the Common Room."
"You're an angel."
"You kept rather cool when Alecto was explaining that muggles are weak compared to 'magical beings'," I informed him.
"Took all my concentration."
"You didn't miss anything new."
"Remember last year when Professor Burbage showed West Side Story around Valentine's Day?" Toby asked.
"The music was wonderful," I told him as I remembered the song Somewhere.
"Just think, people our age willing to die for each other."
"Remember that it's just a movie."
"Says the one going into an arranger marriage," Toby teased.
When I didn't reply, he knew that he struck a sensitive spot. In his lovable, caring way, he swung an arm around me, and commented, "you know, if it was the other way around, I would have told my family to screw it, and choose for myself."
"Before or after you've been placed in front of the firing squad?" I asked, "it's not as though I want to go through with it, but look at my position; if I refuse to go through with it, then I'll be disinherited, and be marked as a traitor. You're not the only one whose life is in danger."
Anger flashed in Toby's eyes. He straightened himself up to his full height, and commented, "oh yes, just because I've been branded as inferior by the Ministry is exactly the same as you having your future decisions made for you."
"I never said that you were below-"
"No, I see how it is, and I thought you were different than the other girls. Now I see that you're just like all those other pureblood princesses. So, if you excuse me your highness, seeing as how I don't want to dirty your hands, I'll ask someone else to help me heal these wounds."
"Toby!"
He chose to ignore me, while he walked down the corridor to lunch in the Great Hall. Trying to hold in the forming tears, I turned in the other direction to go to the Ravenclaw dorms; I wasn't hungry, and still needed to pack my things for home. When I reached the golden knocker, it asked, "tell me child, what is love?"
"Love is . . . an accident waiting to happen. It sideswipes you when you're not looking, and when you turn to see the damage you get hit head on. If you react to it in the wrong way, you and the other person will be seriously hurt," I informed the portrait.
"Well, that's a bit more morbid than what I was thinking, but it'll do," it told me, and then it swung open.
I walked right past through the common room, and headed up to the girl's dorms. As I opened the door, I realized that I wasn't the only in this room. A house elf with an incredibly long nose, and bright green eyes that looked at me as though it had been caught with its hand in the cookie jar.
"Young miss needing forgotten object from morning," it squeaked at me, as though it were a statement and not a question.
"No, I'm going to pack for when I go home tomorrow," I informed the elf.
"Young miss has already eaten lunch?"
"I'm not hungry for lunch."
"But it is a school rule that every student should not miss meals. Headmaster Snape told us so. Please miss, Dobby will be punished if he knows that a student refused to eat."
"Well, Dobby, you can tell Headmaster Snape that Miss Finley chose to occupy her mind with her upcoming marriage rather than become sick to her stomach."
"Miss Finley," Dobby commented, "do you truly not want lunch?"
Before I could answer, my stomach growled, admitting that my brain was wrong. Dobby smiled, and without a word, disappeared in a puff of smoke. He was up to something, I could tell by the slight smug smirk.
A few seconds later Dobby reappeared with a covered plate. With a grand flourish, he removed the cover while commenting, "Miss Finley has always chosen this for lunch when it is being offered. Dobby thinks that Miss Finley will enjoy it.
I took the plate, and indeed it contained things that I normally had at lunch: a flaky, hot sausage roll, a banana that was just ripe enough, and some pumpkin juice. Looking up at Dobby, he still had a goof grin, but was setting to work tidying up the room.
"Dobby," I questioned, "what are you doing up here so late? Normally everything's clean when I've come up here before."
The grin disappeared from Dobby's face, "Master and Mistress Carrow keep the house elves busy lately, wanting us to go through student's items for confiscation."
"Have you Dobby?"
"Oh no Miss Finley! Dobby never rummages through things, he loves the students!"
"Well, that makes me feel better."
After I made sure everything was packed, I set to work on some of the essays that were assigned over the break. By the time I finished Potions, Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst came into the dorms chatting happily. I gave them a curt nod to acknowledge them, and they nodded in reply.
"Have you been up here this while afternoon?" Padma asked as she set down her bookbag.
"Yes," I informed her, "I didn't feel like going to Arithmancy today, and Professor Vector never gives homework the day before the holidays."
"Well, Toby came into the Great Hall at lunch looking upset, and as the day progressed, he looked a bit put out than angry. Did you two have a row?"
"Some things were said that shouldn't have been," I admitted, feeling my cheeks get hot.
"Do you have any intention on coming down to dinner?" Mandy asked.
"Not tonight, I'm not hungry."
"Well, we'll bring you up something," Padma said as she headed towards the door.
"Just be careful," I told them, "don't want the Carrow's to be suspicious.
"We will," they said in unison.
I fell asleep before they came back. We woke up early to take our things down with us for an early breakfast, and then headed off to the station. I didn't see Toby at all until I was looking for a compartment; he was inside one with Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein and Hannah Abbott. I was just about to open the door, when a strong hand grabbed my wrist.
Looking up, it was Millicent Bulstrode, with an unreadable expression on her face. She pulled me in the direction of the back of the compartment, opened one of the doors, and pushed me inside.
"Ah, Finley," a female voice commented, "so glad of you to join us."
"Parkinson," I replied.
Pansy Parkinson was a true pureblood princess; she'd rather have her subordinates do her dirty work rather than using her own hands. Currently dressed in a light pink afternoon tea dress – complete with frilly ruffles – and hair perfectly done, she had a tea set, with table, hovering between the seats. Other joiners were Blaise Zambini (looking rather uncomfortable), Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass.
"A little early to be having tea, isn't it Parkinson?" I asked, eyeing the other guests.
"Just practicing being a hostess, and you can call me Pansy," she replied, inclining her head to sit down.
I took a seat next to Zambini, who was suspiciously eyeing the floral print on his tea cup. Millicent took her seat next to Pansy, and glowered at the rather frilly place settings.
"So, Finley," Pansy began, "I understand that you are having a ball on Christmas Eve. Your coming out and engagement ball I presume."
"Well Pansy, considering that I'm seventeen now and that my birthday is not on Christmas Eve, I'd say that yes, the ball is to announce my engagement," I replied tensely.
"No need to get snippy Finley, I'm just trying to make polite conversation," Pansy interjected, then politely changed the subject, "so, do you have any idea as to who your beau might be?"
"No," I told her as I dropped a cube of sugar into my steaming cup, "my father likes to keep the tradition of the daughter not knowing until it is announced at the ball."
"Well, I have a strong feeling as to who will become my husband," she informed me, while stirring her tea, without the spoon hitting the edge.
"You know Pansy," Blaise commented, "no one has ever claimed that you would marry Draco, and even if you did, his family is not held in such high regard as it used to be. You'll have a harder time regaining status than if you married into another family."
Pansy sat there for a moment, the look on her face indicating that she had never thought that she would not marry Malfoy, or perhaps the idea that Draco would marry someone else. In a flash, the small table overturned – spilling tea across the floor and seats – while Pansy flung herself at Blaise, her hands wrapped around his neck.
"YOU TRYING TO SAY SOMETHING ZAMBINI!" she shrieked.
"KNOCK IT OFF PANSY!" I shouted at the girl, "MILLICENT, GET HER OFF OF HIM!"
Bulstrode immediately leapt to action, grabbing the smaller girl's wrists, and pulling her straight off of Blaise. The boy started to cough as he tried to breath again, his hands supporting him from falling onto the floor.
"Tracy, Daphne, kindly escort Zambini to another compartment," I informed the two girls, who immediately took their leave, while pulling Blaise outside.
Pansy was still struggling against Bulstrode, now screaming incoherently after the three that just left. Millicent looked rather uncomfortable as she tried to calm her friend down. She gave me a pleading look as Pansy tried to bite her arm.
"Parkinson," I snapped, "calm down. Zambini's an ass to begin with; don't take what he says seriously. Once you stop struggling, I'll tell Millicent to let you go."
It took another five minutes before Pansy slumped from exhaustion. I signaled Millicent to place her back down in her previous seat, and dismissing the larger girl to find the others. Pansy and I sat in silence while she tried to calm her sobs.
"Draco and I are meant to be together," she sniffled, "ever since I first met him when we were three, I knew that someday I would be Mrs. Draco Malfoy."
I nodded my head in agreement.
"I even had our wedding planned out in my head. It would take place in my family's summer mansion; the back gardens decorated with pansies, tiger lilies, and cream-colored ribbons. Our cake would be twelve tiers, like a staircase, with sugar flowers flowing off of them like waterfalls. My dress would be a white, empire waist cut, with lace ruffles on the hems of the cuffs and bottom of the dress."
"That sounds like it'll be lovely," I told her.
"But what does it matter? Zambini's right; Draco won't marry me. He'll go for someone who has more money, or whose family has great importance in the Ministry. I'll probably end up with someone like Avery; not very handsome, or capable of love."
"Pansy, let me say something," I commented, "for as long as I've seen you two, I have thoroughly believed that the two of you were interested in each other's money or influence. After what you've said though, I've changed my opinion; Draco needs someone who is truly intent on making sure that he's happy and healthy, while you want to demonstrate how much you love him by making sure that he's happy."
"You really mean it?"
"As much as I hate to say it, yes, I do mean it. I also know that Narcissa and Lucius have noticed with how close the two of you are, and if they choose to marry him off to someone else, then they clearly don't see their marriage with the love that they truly have for each other."
"Thank you for saying that Finley. It means a lot to me."
"And if not, look at it this way, it can't be worse than me. I have a deep feeling that I'll be married off to someone closer to my father's age. When he wants to have children, it'll feel like I'm having sex with my dad."
"Eww," Pansy squirmed, "as much as I hate to say this, hopefully your deep feeling is wrong, and you'll marry someone around your age."
"I'll say this," as I pulled out two butterbeers from my suitcase, "at least they won't be younger than us."
"Now that would be terrible," Pansy admitted, taking one of the butterbeers, "well, here's to two young women who want the best in life."
We spent the remainder of the trip talking about our hopes, aspirations, and what jobs we wanted if we weren't in the position that society wanted to put us in. Surprisingly, Pansy did not want to be a gossip columnist; she actually wanted to be a fashion designer.
After telling me that, she pulled out a sketchpad that she kept in the girl's dorms. I must say that some of the designs she showed me were truly gorgeous. In fact, she pointed out that she had designed wedding gowns for every pureblood girl that was in our year at Hogwarts. She didn't show me mine though, because as she explained, they were just silly doodles, and that was what they would always be.
At one point, she asked me, "in all honesty Finley, what is your relationship with Hanlder?"
"All honesty eh? You don't plan on holding it against me in the future do you? Tell the Carrow's about my true feelings for Toby?" I asked her mockingly.
"So there is something serious with you two," she pointed out accusingly.
I stopped; had I just admitted that I had stronger feelings for Toby? He was smart, handsome, well-built, and . . . damn. I've fallen for him, and fell hard.
"Finley?"
"Parkinson," I started, "if I tell you the truth, I want you to promise me that you will not repeat it, no matter what situation you are in. No matter what people ask you."
"Alright, I promise."
With a deep breath, I admitted, "yes, I do have feelings for Toby. Whether or not they're the same feelings that you have for Draco is beyond me. All that I know is that whenever we've fought in the past, I have always felt a pain in my heart when Toby storms away, or refuses to talk to me. In the past I thought it was because I had lost my best friend, but recently I believe that I've stumbled on the conclusion that I love him. I truly, without a doubt, love him."
"So, why don't you go after him?" she asked me, without any mocking tone, or sneer upon her face.
"Oh yes, how will that look to my family? I'll just walk up to them and say I've decided to say screw you all and marry for love. Have fun explaining that you've disinherited your daughter to my supposed intended husband. Maybe after that I'll stand in front of a firing squad to see if I live after it."
"Fin-" she started, but corrected herself with, "Gwen, I know that we don't normally see eye to eye, but after the years in Hogwarts, I will tell you that the other pureblood girls and I believe that if any of us would defy our family, it would be you."
I avoided her gaze, and chose to not reply to her statement.
"Well, it looks like we're at King's Cross Station," Pansy claimed with a bored tone, "you should figure out what you're going to do pretty quickly."
With that, she pulled her trunk down, and left the compartment without a backwards glance.
A few seconds later, I moved to get off the train, taking all of my belongings, and swirling thoughts with me. Everybody believed that I would defy my family, but would it be for love, or just my own gains? I had to speak with Toby; it would be the last time until we come back, and by then I would have a ring on my finger.
I looked into his compartment and found it empty. My heart started to beat faster; was I too late to say anything to him?
Quickly, I made my way off the train, scanning for any signs of Toby. I didn't have to look far, the sight made a lump form in the back of my throat.
Blocking Toby's way to the barrier were two Ministry officials, who were definite supporters for Voldemort. More than likely, they were questioning him on his heritage, and debating whether they should apprehend him or not.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was standing next to Toby, with my hand slipping into his. He and the Ministry officials looked at me with a questioning look. Before Toby could pull his hand away, my hand clasped firmly to his, with no intention of releasing it.
"Yaxley, Macnair," I nodded to the two men.
"Miss Finley," the two men nodded back, while sharing the same questioning look.
"Is there a problem with my fiancé?" I asked sweetly.
The questioning looks became those of embarrassment. Yaxley spoke up, "we were just checking his blood status Miss Finley, but if he is your fiancé, then there is no problem."
"I hope not," I laughed sweetly, "because my father wouldn't like to know that this man was asked about his bloodline. Why, it would nearly mean that you don't believe in my father's researching skills. He would even take offence to the very idea."
"Our apologies Miss Finley," Macnair nodded, "please go right ahead. I believe that the Ministry car is waiting for you."
When we had crossed the barrier, and were well out of earshot, Toby hissed, "what are you playing at?"
"I told you before," I hissed back, "that I would keep you safe."
"Because I'm your friend. Well, I believe yesterday our friendship was on the rocks."
I continued to pull him out of the station, past the parked cars, and into a nearby alleyway. There I finally released his hand. As he made his way to leave, I summoned up my remaining courage, and told him point-blank, "I love you."
"It's a little late to play with my emotions Gwen," Toby spat, "or am I just an animal that does not understand human emotions?"
"Toby –"
"No. You know what? For years I believed that I held strong feelings for you, but there was always that barrier. You couldn't give me more than friendship because you had an arranged marriage to look forward to, and after years, I got over the idea that we couldn't spend our lives together as lovers."
"I'm sorry."
"That's all you have to say? Well, then I'm confused; first you claim that you can't have a relationship with me, then you pull that stunt. The truth Gwen, I want the truth now."
During his talk, the song Somewhere from West Side Story began to play in my head. There's a place for us, Somewhere a place for us. An idea formed in my head from those words.
Without saying anything, I grasped Toby's hand and disapparated with him. If we weren't safe in London, then we'd go someplace else.
After the surroundings stopped spinning, I held onto Toby until I could walk without falling down. Toby looked around curiously, wondering why I would bring him here of all places.
We were at the shore that Toby and I went to when we were thirteen. Only a few kilometers away from my grandmother's estate, we met up with each other one day in July. It was, hands down, the best day in my life with Toby, and the best way to show my true feelings for him.
"What are we doing here?" he asked me, a puzzled look on his face.
Rather than answer verbally, I pulled Toby closer, and kissed him on the lips. He smelled of peppermint, probably from the peppermint toads that he always buys on the Hogwarts Express.
"We're beginning our search for the perfect place for us," I told him with a smirk playing across my lips.
FIN
Well, that's the story. Like it or not, please review, authors love reviews, they make lovely gifts.