A Broken Rose

Author's Note: I'm going to warn you now. If you don't like sad endings, don't read this chapter, or the next. Pretend the story ended last chapter, so you can revel in the happiness of that one, and not have to take on the misery of this one. If you're brave would like to go on...then suite yourself.

The first thing she was aware of was a cruel laughter, next to the bright sunlight on her face. Then all the memories came back to her, and she smiled at the prospect of doing what she had done the night before. Even so, in her happiness, she could sense something was wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. Maybe it was the coldness that surrounded her from every angle. The conrete was cold at her back, and Draco's arms around her were terribly cold. She wanted to open her eyes, but somehow, she dreaded seeing what she would find if she did. Instead she shifted, and heard the laughter again. "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," a familiar voice said mockingly and then there was more laughter.

"No," she said suddenly, and she knew why Draco's arms were so cold, "What have you done?"

More laughter. "Its not what I've done. Its what he's done, and what you've done. Open your eyes."

And she did. And she looked over at Draco, and all she could do was scream. He looked so peaceful, as if he were sleeping. But she knew he was not sleeping. Or maybe, in a way he was. But that didn't make up for the fact that he would never wake up. His face was paler than it had ever been before, his body cold and stiff. His eye lids and lips were tinged blue. Tears began to fall.

"No!" she cried, feeling her heart shatter in her chest in a horror beyond any thing she had ever felt before. "No! Draco, wake up, please! Don't leave me alone, please, I'm begging you!" She sat up, burying her head in his chest, and shaking him violently. "No....! This can't...be..." But it was. Draco was dead. Tom had killed him.

"He went willingly," Tom said, amused. He reached out for her, but moved back as if he had been stung. The amused look left his dark eyes. "He was smart, though. He knew that if he left I wouldn't be able to touch you. He also knew that if he just told you he didn't love you, it would break your heart, and he wouldn't want to be alive to see that happen. He couldn't do it! The coward! Instead he killed himself, so that he wouldn't have to see you cry!" Tom laughed again, causing Ginny to sob even more.

"How can you be so cold?" she snarled dangerously, "Why do you want to ruin my life? Why have you ruined my life?" She broke down into even more sobs, and found that she could no longer speak. Not that she wanted to.

"Becuase you ruined mine," Tom sneered, and then he was gone, leaving Ginny to her miserable life.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," she sobbed, leaning over his life-less body and remembering the night before and how much love she had felt towards him. She brushed a stray strand of silver-blonde hair away from his forehead, letting her tears fall onto his chest, his face, his lips....the ones she had kissed mere hours ago. "Why, Draco? Why couldn't it have been me?

"I love you so much, and now you've...you've gone?"

Ginny didn't know what to do, so, instead, she lay her tired body down next to his, pulling one of his arms over her. She wasn't going to leave him. Ever.

The last thing she saw before she dotted off to sleep was, clutched in his pale, cold hand, the broken rose from the night before. She smiled, then. A sad smile, full of all the pain Tom had made her endure all these years. She felt all the pain flow away from her like waves reversing back into the ocean. Draco had given his life for hers. So that she could live. Now, she was going to preserve herself for him. He would come back eventually, right? She laid a hand over her stomach remembering the night before. She didn't know how exactly she knew this, but she could feel life within herself. Life within her body, growing and pulsing strongly. The smile twisted into a smirk that so resembled Draco famous one. At least something good and pure would come out of her and Draco's love, even though, nine months later, he would not be there to see it.

She got his philosophy about the rose now. She was the petals...he was the rose...the broken rose...

Author's Note: For those of you who have made it this far. This chapter didn't take as long as I thought it would, mostly because school is ending for Christmas and the teachers are taking pity on us. Its short, this chapter, I know. But there really wasn't much to write for it. Next chapter's the ending poem. Review this chapter, then review the poem, if you please.

No flames, I beg. Don't review this time if you're going to critique. You can flame me every where else, but try not to when I'm just finishing up a story. It ruins me.

Review with a cherry on top.