For Cheeky Slytherin Lass. I hope you enjoy it!

Wisteria, love, that's our color

Do you remember it?

I remember the white of the lights

and the silvery-gold of your long, long hair

and the crimson of your lips when you looked at the mirror

and the beautiful bright blue of your sparkling eyes

but most of all I remember the wisteria

The wisteria of your dress

and coincidentally, of mine

(maybe it was fate?)

and the wisteria of your nails

and of my lipstick

even of the walls

Wisteria was everywhere that night

It might be hard to pick a song we both remember

or a scent

or a taste

but oh, love, the wisteria

I remember how you looked

so young, so pretty, so sweet, so naive

so enticing

And I?

I was too old for propriety

another woman

with the taint of the love potion I once used

still on my hands

I was rough

and kind of bitter

and I should have been in Slytherin

but I still had a bit of sweetness left in me

(love, you brought that out)

so tempting

as you admitted later

There's a wisteria flower on our mantel

You got it for me the first time we went out

Replacing it is kind of a tradition of ours

Have I ever thanked you for that flower?

(They say it's a symbol of love)

Oh, that night the wisteria was everywhere

and it's everywhere here at home

We charmed the walls the exact shade

of wisteria I wore

and wrote our names with a wisteria-colored crayon

on the windowsill

You showed me how to write in cursive

I taught you how to spell my middle name

(it's a really hard one)

and we did it all in our color

Whenever I see that glorious shade of purple,

I see you, love

dressed in wisteria

Remember that first date?

I certainly do

what with your wisteria-scented(the flower, not the color)

perfume

that you proceeded to lend me

(We both wore wisteria blouses)

We danced

you twirling with your hair shimmering in the light

me holding tight to your hands

as if I'd never let go

we always dance that way

Our very first Christmas card

and all that followed

was wisteria, in our wisteria dresses

The color was everywhere

everywhere

If I only could see it again

Love, I miss you

and miss you

and miss you some more

And I've put wisteria flowers on your grave

The grave that was far too early

For someone so young

so full of live

as vibrant as our wisteria

In most of the classic tragedies

There are lovers who die young

At least they were united

on the other side of that mysterious veil

Our love was beautiful once

Now, it's a heartbreaking memory

I can't believe you're gone

(Others say wisteria flowers mean lost love)

It started one evening

with acne

which I would think ridiculous to worry about

a frivolous relic of my past

except it was painful

We went to St. Mungo's

where you began to feel like the world moved in circles

and collapsed into my arms

Your skin was burning hot

I pretended I didn't recognize the signs

I'm always been good at denial

No, Romilda, you are not making a bad decision

No, Romilda, you should definitely use that spell

No, Romilda, Gabrielle isn't ill

Oh, how I wish I could pretend my grief isn't there

As the days went on

your face developed blisters

of a horrible shade of violet that wasn't like to wisteria at all

not even close

They said it was spattergroit

Have I mentioned how ugly that word is?

How awkward?

How terrible?

It's contagious, they said

and took me away from you

dressing in masks

and giving you potions, I suppose

while I screamed and cried outside and tried to kick down the door

I couldn't bear to be separated from you in your hour of need

The pain was unimaginable

I wept and wept and wept

Months past

and you were no better

More months past

and there was no improvement

A year was gone

the infection had spread to your uvula

and you could speak no more

Over those torturous months

I visited your bedside a few times

the visits were all too short

and brought you your wisteria blouse

plus a vase of wisteria flowers

And tried to keep my hope

and yours

alive

But all hope goes in the most dire of times, I believe

And then

on one of the visits

the healers came and said

Cerebrumos Spattergroit

When I went in to see you

you didn't recognize me

I told you stories by your bedside

during those brief visits

of wisteria and of us

I brought you a butterfly

(it promptly caught spattergroit and died)

That was the last visit

before you were gone too

in an instant

How can I live without my love by my side?