A/N: So this story is the companion piece to "The Rose" and looks at Sarah's perspective on how her relationship with the Potions Master happened. The events are as canon as can be expected with an OFC inserted, until Half Blood Prince. At that point the story goes completely AU and messes around with characters and plots and ignores the last book completely — the war hasn't yet happened in my story and none of the major players have died (although that doesn't mean they won't in the future, as war may well be coming, but that's not covered here), Snape is back to being the Potions Master, and Blaise Zabini is the pre-HBP shadowy figure that people could never decide was male or female and had so much potential, he is definitely not canon Blaise, who it seems hates everyone, whether pure-blood or Muggle-born. You may be surprised at what you read, because this love story may not be quite what you thought it was.
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Dx
So I finally got what I always wanted. I am sitting here in bed, finishing this last journal entry whilst I wait for my husband to return from his meeting with the darkest wizard ever to walk the earth. If everything goes well tonight and Severus is forgiven, as I seriously hope he will be, we will begin the new chapter of our life together tomorrow and this diary that I have kept for so long will be relegated to the memory box of life, kept only for nostalgic purposes. I have to admit, though, that I am quite worried about him. I won't be able to be optimistic about our future together or truly relax until he arrives back to me safely. That's why I am writing; there is no way I can sleep, not tonight, not with so much of importance happening.
Sometimes I am still amazed that I managed to pull all this off. It was such a Slytherin act from such an insignificant little Hufflepuff, although it wasn't without its risks as you will learn. I wonder what my husband would think if he realised — if he knew what lengths I was willing to go to in order to be his wife? With the exception of my co-conspirator, I think only Hermione guesses the full story, but even she doesn't know for sure as we have never really talked about it and I have no desire to share. That's what my diary is for.
If everything goes according to plan, tomorrow morning my husband will at last understand just how much I adore him and perhaps he will at last accept that we really were meant to be together and that we can be happy, even blissfully so.
Anyway, as with all good stories, this one begins with a plan. This plan was so cunning it could have been dreamt up by a Slytherin — and to be fair, I did have a little help from those wily snakes along the way . . . although actually, if I'm being honest, it didn't start with the plan. It started with my husband. . . .