Life has a strange tendency to repeat itself, to make you visit places and people you thought were long buried in your past. As a child, I visited Italy, spending my days exploring the ancient cities that so haunted magical lore. This was where the Inquisition began, where faith in a judgmental God was stronger than love for one another. In the name of God, thousands of people were murdered. It seems so funny to me, that they could judge people based on a book they've never even read, but still, steadfastly believe.

Somehow, their belief in some intangible God figure "makes more sense" than mine in the equally outlandish hope that dwells in the human soul. I suppose it is an fool's dream, enlightenment in a time like this. Most people are more concerned with just staying alive.

Lord Voldemort was gaining power, he was launching attacks all over our homeland, Great Britain and even outside there was a general feeling of uneasiness; he could attack at any moment. Gin and I traveled to Italy to relieve the tension, and to help train and prepare new Aurors.

I relished the opportunity, taking time everyday to visit all the places I had been as a youth. Ginny sometimes went with me, and sometimes did not. It was okay, though. Everyone needs some alone time.

That particular day, I was in Rome, seeing the sites. I took a short cut near the Vatican, and found myself in an unfamiliar part of town, one that had been a shelter for the magical population during the middle ages. Now, it's a haven for all the wrong sort of people, the drug addicts, the prostitutes, and the thieves, where it was as easy to buy a bullet in the brain, as it was to buy cocaine. I quickened my pace; this was no place for an Auror. Sprinting past, I recognized a face in the crowd. "Fleur?" I asked in disbelief.

The blond nodded. Her hair was matter, her arms marred by needle marks and scars. I could tell she had been addicted for a long time. "None oho mai pensato che ti avrei rivista.1" she said in her near fluent Italian.

She wasn't going to get my pity. "Guarda cosa sei diventata, Fleur.2"

"E'passato tanto tempo dall' Inquisizione, Cho.3" she said, before switching to English, knowing my Italian was not nearly as good as her own. "This is no longer a place for "respectable witches" like yourself. Why are you here?"

"It's none of your business."

"I see," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You do know I could help you with whatever it is, right?"

"I couldn't trust you further than I could throw you. I remember what happened the last time I trusted you."

"Touché."

"If you'll excuse me--" I began to speak but was cut off by a loud crash. Death Eaters, they were everywhere, storming the place. Fleur and I ran amidst the tumbling rock, buildings toppling everywhere. Some of it struck us, and some did not. Still we ran. We were bleeding, crawling out of the rubble. The rock shifted, and Fleur was pinned under heavy rock, bleeding heavily. I tried to pry her loose, and tried to use my wand, only finding that the bleeding was too bad. In the time it would take to cast the complex spell, she would already be dead.

I did not know what to do, I'd never been in such a situation before, nor have I been in one since. Fleur gasped the words. "It hurts so bad..."

She was in great pain; anyone could see it. I pressed the wand to her temple, but could not bring myself to utter the words.

"Cho, ti prego.4" she muttered. "Don't ever forget... ti amo...5"

"Avada--" I began, intending to release her from her pain. But she was already gone. I tear ran down my cheek as a thought crossed my mind: maybe I did love her, even still, or perhaps in this short time, my heart like my body had come full circle, reverting to the passion of its youth.

Even now as I write this, I feel guilty. Guilty that she loved me, and that I could not save her. Guilty that I still loved her, with a tiny piece of my heart, even though I loved Ginny. Ginny was the only one I had ever truly loved, I used to think, attempting to brush away the pain I had felt with Fleur. I did love Fleur. I do love Fleur, the woman, the witch, and the memory.

I do not forgive her for what she had done, I could never forgive her for Rodger... instead, I love her in spite of it. We were not to be. Ginny and I were meant to be.

1: "I never thought I would see you again."

2: "Look what's become of you, Fleur."

3: "It's been a long time since the Inquisition, Cho."

4: "Cho, please."

5: "I love you."