Even with all the work I put into this story, it all belongs to JKR.

Thank you so much, Kyra and Lenne, for being the betas and some of the only ones to really read and review this story at first.

This story is dedicated to my Grandma Bea on whose experience in life the plot is roughly based. You sweet, kind grandma, your secrets escaped your grave and became the seed for something else I love.

Narcissus or the Rose

She had an awful choice to make,
and choose no woman could,
for either way, she’d lose to fate,
see bad spring from the good.

The Rose would bring her harmony,
sweet nothings and perfume,
but also would it fail to see
this woman to her doom.

The tall white bulb at water’s edge
tried vainly to succeed.
It met all needs and gave love’s pledge,
but she’d pay the weed no heed.

When Rose wilts and Weed persists,
should she fall into a thorny tryst?