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Chapter 16 : Epilogue - Endless Waltz
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I thought Iíd do the Authors note now rather than at the end, because I felt like it really, and I have a couple of dedications and thanks which really should go at the beginning, especially as this is the last chapter.
*Cries a little* Itís been a long and tough journey for me, and not to sound big headed or anything but I am so proud of myself for finishing this cause there was a time when I didnít think I would. Iíd like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has ever reviewed this story, every single one of you has made me smile and helped give me the strength to finish this story.
Speaking of crying, this Chapter is dedicated to Babsta, harrietm, LovesMagic and jane because I made you cry, thus my evil cruel heartedness is confirmed.
Thank you all again
Draco twirled the rose in his fingers for a moment before casting it aside in anger he couldnít smell summer and hope like she had. Any fruitiness was overpowered by that bitter aftertaste, regret and broken dreams.
Winter was on its way, he knew, it always came.
The insanity had ended in a cruel twist of fate that would leave him bitter until the end of his days, but no matter how much he wished it would come he just wasnít brave enough to help it along.
She had always been a true Gryffindor, brave until the end.
Every time he saw a flower he thought of her.
Every time it rained, he thought of her.
He looked to the left of the white rose bush, to a plant not quite two years old.
Blood red roses bloomed at the end of dark green stems.
He approached this bush instead but instead of plucking a flower from it he knelt in front of it and breathed in.
They smelt of her, these roses, this is why heíd bought the plant.
The flowery scent disguised a hot earthy aroma that reminded him of parchment and ink. The only bitter aftertaste was the lingering smell of the other roses. But he would never get rid of them, they were too much a part of his memory, too helpful in his reminiscent promise to love her forever.
They helped him dwell on his memories of her.
The determination in her eyes, the frustration when dealing with Jean Claude, her happiness at seeing him converse with her other friends at a ministry party.
He could never deny her happiness.
Even when facing death she had been more worried about him, he had seen it in her eyes as she spoke those words to him. Telling him he would be O.k. that all she needed was to be held while she died.
She had been scared, she had told him as much only minutes before, had told him to propose anyway despite knowing that she was going to die.
He wasnít sure if that made it worse or not.
Saying goodbye to a fiancťe compared to saying goodbye to a girlfriend.
She gave him the chance to know that they could have been happy together, would have had a life together.
They had named their children, the children they would never have while she was in the middle of dying.
She knew what that night was about, she always had.
She knew heíd never move on if he hadnít known what her answer would have been.
In a way it had made it harder.
He never would move on.
No one would do for him what Hermione Granger had done, no one would ever be able to fill her shoes no matter how hard they tried.
Not that he would ever give anyone a chance.
He took one last deep breath. Taking in the smell he longed to get off a living person,but would never get the chance to again.
He was trying not to wallow in his own misery, he was going to work and functioning like a normal human being, except it was all a little bit empty.
Life was empty when you had to live without the one you loved.
When everything reminded you of the one thing you prized above everything else.
He smiled wryly to himself as he realised she would never experience this.
She may have died, never had children and gotten married, but she would never feel this pain.
It was the name that made him buy the roses, even though they smelt of her.
The name of her roses said it all.
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