A/N: Angsty, sad, depressing little one-shot... just like all my others! This time it's a couple I've never done before and don't actually believe in, but wanted to try... hope you enjoy.

Only you:

In a moonlit room, there is a young woman. She's sleeping alone in a bed. The window is open; the white curtains are stirred by the weak breeze that is the gift from the night sky.

The girl shivers slightly, and rolls over onto her side, and as she does so her tumble of deep mahogany hair fans out against the white pillow.

On the table next to the peacefully sleeping girl, there is a rose. It's deep blood red is the only colour permitted in the room, save for the silver, black and grey of the night, the white of the bed, and the girl's wavy brunette curls.

Next to the scarlet long-stemmed rose there is an envelope. In the envelope there is a letter. Its words are written in ink of brilliant emerald green, and they are delicately formed, in a beautiful, intricate and cursive hand.

The first line of the letter only contains one word; Hermione...

The second line says: I am sorry.

The third: I had to leave, I'm so sorry... I had to.

The fourth line is longer than the others: I cannot do it, my love; I cannot turn my back upon my own my father... I have to help him... but once he is safely away I will return to you and we need never speak of him again.

The fifth line: I love you.

The sixth tells: Please believe it, and please do not ever forget it.

The seventh says: I know you will be mad at me for doing this, and angry that I did not wake you... but it was all for the best, sweetheart.

The eighth line reads: I shall return soon darling, do not despair.

The ninth line says: Yours, forevermore,

The last line of the letter only contains one word; Draco.

The girl awakens in the morning. She spies the rose on the bed-side table, and smiles. Then she sees the letter and her love turns to sudden wariness. Was her fiancé not in the next room? Why was it that she could not hear him moving around their apartment...But wherever would he be if not here with her? Her fingers graze over the startling red rose as she reaches for the envelope. Her vivid brown eyes fill with anger and dread and tears as she reads and re-reads the ten lines of the letter. Suddenly, the phone rings, its intrusive noise cutting through the stillness like a knife. She scrambles hastily from the bed to answer its summons.

A mere 10 second later she falls to the ground with a sob, and the letter, with its elaborate writing, and the rose, with its stunning colour both lie forgotten as screams full of heartbreak and horror fill the air.

The girl kneels on the cold hardwood floor with her in her hands as she cries. Her sapphire blue nightgown is soon darkened as her tears overflow in her hands and soak into the silken material.

On the table, the rose still lies. On the bed, the letter still rests. On the floor the girl still weeps. The scene stays that way, for hours and hours and hours until the bedroom door opens and a boy steps into the room. But he is not the boy she wants. He runs a hand through jet black hair and crouches next to his beloved friend and holds her tightly and tries to numb her pain but he cannot. His own eyes close and his own tears fall, for he knew how much love was between the inconsolable young woman before him and the deceased young man that she cried for. The green eyed newcomer tells her, in vain hope of putting some degree of an end to her hurting: There is nothing to be done. It is impossible to turn back time, there is nothing they could do, and it is over. He is dead. He is dead. He is dead.

All the girl can do is cry as she chokes out her reply: He was my only love Harry... it was only him... it was only ever him... I loved him... I loved him... only ever him... only ever him...oh god Harry, oh god, oh god, oh god...only him...

It is sad, this tragic scene. The rising sun lights the room, but there is no warmth. And what is sadder still, is the rose on the table. Its dark red petals are wilting. And the saddest thing of all in the room is not, in acutance, the crying girl. Nor is it even the gold framed picture, next to the rose, of the girl smiling and happy and clearly very much in love in love with the white blond haired, stormy grey eyed boy next to her, no-no.

The most saddest thing of all is the words. The words on the page of parchment that are written in such breathtaking hand. The words of the letter lying on the bed that the girl did not see, even in all their emerald glory. They are at the bottom of the page, the girl did not see them... they read: Only you, my darling. The only one I'll ever love is you. Only you.

Yes, that is the saddest thing of all.

O.k. so likes to mess up my spacing, so undoubtedly this fic will appear different to you guys then it does to me... but oh well... please try to bear with me!

Anyway I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it, sad as it is.

The fact of the title, therefore the fact of the whole story, I suppose... was based upon personal experience. So please be kind 

R&R!

Regards, FireAtWill52.