Disclaimer: I just like writing. It's not like I own any of this. Sorry, it's getting a bit harder to post. It'll be easier after the play is over. Yay, 70+ reviews. Can we take that up to 100 soon?

I got home, completely elated. I could barely stop staring at the ring on my finger. It must have cost a lot.

Elly was there, beaming at me as I walked through the door.

"You knew," I accused. "You knew and you didn't even give me a hint!"

"Of course I didn't, you silly, silly girl," she laughed. "One, he asked me not to, and two, where would the fun in that be? It would ruin the surprised. No one deserves to have this ruined for them."

I threw my arms around my best friend. "I'm engaged!" I squealed. "Oh, wow, I need to tell everyone. Where's the floo powder? I need to call everyone!"

And that's what I did. I called my aunts and uncles and nearly all of my cousins. My parents were ecstatic, and Hugo was happy, though he told me that he would have to ward Dylan not to try and hurt me or else. I laughed at that. Only Albus seemed a bit uneasy about this. He knew that I would never give my whole heart to anyone ever again, so I just chalked it up to that instead of something that I didn't consider… something that I couldn't foresee.

I went to bed quite late that night, though it didn't matter, because I had the next day off, and the excitement of the day was too much to bear.

I had an uneasy dream that night.

I was somehow seventeen again, and I was facing the only boy I had ever truly loved. It was Scorpius. But I knew that this wasn't a memory, for I knew I was dreaming and I knew I was engaged.

That would explain why he was looking at me, his face angry.

"How could you, Rose?" he shouted.

"What, me?" I shouted back.

"Yes, you," he spat. "How could you agree to marry him? You love me, remember?"

"No, I don't," I said. "Not anymore."

I woke up; my pillow was stained with tears. It was strange that I could remember my dream in full.

It was a strange thing for me to dream about his reactions to things. It had been some time since I had even cared about such things, but it was probably natural. I had only been in love with one boy before Dylan, so it was probably ok to think about that right after I got engaged, seeing as it took me a while to get over it.

It was like that tradition that men had that when they got engaged they would give their little black book to one of their single friends.

I smirked at that. Maybe I would give Elly Jacob Thomas' address, since she was always complaining about being single.

I sighed. I would have to get out of bed at some time, but I was all set to just laze around the flat all day in my pajamas.

Elly had already left for work, and I went into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.

I decided to treat myself with some blueberry pancakes. I had learn to do them the muggle way. They took longer, but it came with more satisfaction to know that I could do something without having to rely on magic.

I also had all the time in the world that day, so it didn't matter how long it took.

When I had finished with that, I opened the "Daily Prophet" to see what was going on in the world that I had missed.

I smiled when I got to the Quidditch section. My aunt Ginny wrote for that, and, of course, she had to add in a little note that Dylan had proposed to me.

I chuckled when I thought of all the groans that Dylan's devoted female fans would have when they read that. Sure, it was sometimes a hassle being the fiancée of a celebrity, but Aunt Ginny could deal with it- though Uncle Harry was a different type of celebrity- and I was sure I could, too.

I had eaten my breakfast and read the newspaper slowly that I saw that it was already noon, not that it mattered, because I didn't have any work to do.

That's why I was a little shock when there was a knock at the door. I wasn't expecting any visitors, and Elly was going to be gone until late that night.

I went to the door, still in my pajamas, to see who it was.

I opened the door to see a tall man, his face obscured by the small bouquet of flowers he was holding.

"Dylan," I teased, "didn't you give me enough flowers last night.

The man lowered the bouquet. It wasn't Dylan. I would recognize the platinum blond hair and clear blue eyes anywhere. Though he was taller, he was still the same. My breath caught in my throat.

"Sc-Scorpius?" I barely managed to get out.

"Rose," he said, smiling. His voice was full of relief and had just a hint of something I could barely recognize; love.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Rose, I'm sorry I haven't written. It was just too hard. I missed you too much," he said. "I should have come to see you much sooner. I should have seen you the very second I was able, but I didn't, and I'm sorry. I came here today to ask you if you would be willing to give us another shot."

"Scorpius, I-"

"Just think it over a bit," he said. "We could start up right where we left off."

"That's impossible," I said, my eyes resting on my left hand, though I hadn't put my ring on again since I had woken up that morning.

"Why not?" he asked, his face was questioning.

"Come in and sit down," I bade him. He followed me into the kitchen. "Well, I don't suppose you read the 'Daily Prophet' today?" I offered him a chair.

"I just skimmed the front page, really," he said. "Why?"

I flipped the newspaper open to the Quidditch section and pointed to the last sentence.

His eyes read it fast, but he took it in slowly.

"Rose? You're engaged?" he asked. I nodded. "To Dylan Saunders?" he verified. I nodded. "When did this happen?"

"We've been going out for a while," I explained. "We met in a little coffee shop that I used to work in since I wasn't a paid healer at St. Mungo's at that point. I just became one yesterday. Anyway, he came in one day, and we just started off talking. He asked me out, and we started dating. We got pretty serious, and he proposed to me last night at the Golden Cauldron. It was pretty romantic."

He didn't say a word.

"I'm sorry," I said to him. Now I was the one apologizing. "If we'd stayed in touch, I would have been able to tell you, but you stopped writing two years ago. Another half a year later, you probably graduated, but you never tried to look me up. I couldn't spend my life waiting for you. I had a plan while we were keeping in touch that you would come home and we would pick up where we left off, like you said, but you stopped writing and you never came to visit. I had no choice but to move on."

"Yeah, that was probably a pretty good move on your part," he said. "I shouldn't have kept you waiting like that. I should have written back, and I guess I'll just have to deal with the consequences of that."

He got up to leave.

"I'll see you around?" I asked. I still wanted a friendship with him.

"Yeah, I guess," he grunted. He then left the flat, slamming the door behind him.

That was without a doubt the hardest thing that I had ever had to do.