Author: Starbu
Name: Everything has its end.
Pairing: I'm not going to tell you, but it's slash. If you don't get the pairing, I can tell you, but you probably find it out :)
Raiting: PG, because of the slash
Summary: Everything has its end, but the memories are always there.
It's sometimes so difficult.
I can see you in him. Malfoy's blonde hair. The cold eyes, that seems to look the world with knowledge, and despise it. Lips, which so easily curve into a mocking smile. The pale hands, that remains me from your hands flying over my body.
He remains so much you, when you were younger. A proud Slytherin. Head of his little gang. Intelligent. Full of charm. The only thing, what makes him different from you, is his age and his not being evil. He doesn't torture the rats and the spiders of this castle. He doesn't threaten younger, well at least not more than an average Slytherin does. Yes, indeed, Draco is different than you from inside.
But outside, he's just like a copy of you. And it's sometimes so difficult to teach him, to point a minor mistake in his work, and not to touch him like I touch you. I smell his scent, and it brings me back the memories I have from you.
Another school day is over. I look outside, it's autumn, and the wind is playing with the leaves. The days grow darker and darker, when the light is vanishing, but the sun is still bright.
I remember how you once told me, that autumn was the best time of the year. Everything was rotting and dying, and yet it had the beauty that no other time of year had. You loved the cold wind, the rains that came down heavily and the nudity of scenery.
I tap my fingers on my table, humming the little song you use to sing when we were together. I remember how I played with your hair when you sang to me in the red room. The candles were burning softly on the walls and the wine was as red as your blood.
It's all different now. Back then we had each other. We had the black and blonde, we had plans for future. We were about to get our revenge. We lived passionately, we fight passionately and most of all, we loved passionately.
But everything has its end. Now we politely say hello to each other when we meet somewhere. We look for some place, where no one asks question, and the love that once burned between us, is now only a small flame. Ending was your wife, your passion to create a career. I volunteered to stay, to remain.
And the great love we once believed in, lives now only in my memories and in my dreams. But that is how it is, my love. Everything has its end.