Authors Note: It's finally over. 'Red and Green' is complete. Thank you for all the support you all have given me while I was writing this tale -- and I hope I accomplished my goal: to grab your heart and bestow upon it a tale of love and sorrow. Thank you again.

Disclaimer: If you haven't noticed by now, this isn't mine.

Livejournal: - Check out my new layout based on this story, promise you'll love it.



XXIII. Breathing (Epilogue)

And so we lived.

I never found out how I survived, nonetheless killed Voldemort, besides the little gossip that traveled from the Ministry to Albus every once in a while. But nothing more then words that most likely were false.

But I loved my Harry. As suspected, even though denied many times, Harry graduated from Hogwarts, passing all his NEWT's outstandingly well. There was no doubt about it -- he could go far. But he did not go far at all. He moved down to my quarters, at least until we both could decide where to live. We never rushed it though, we enjoyed our time. Our life. Our love.

And as if it were written down in books, Harry became Hogwarts new Dark Arts Professor. I should had of made bets on this all, it was all too common. Most people just knew that this would all happen, even though Harry denied the thought of becoming someone so great at Hogwarts. Students loved him, he was surely the best. Though, at first, he was resistant from taking the position I desired for years, it belonged to no one better.

I never changed my sneering attitude around Hogwarts, but Harry kept me in lines with taking too many points from Gryffindor from my time. And I showed him that not all Slytherins were as bad as Malfoy was.

Lucius died when Voldemort died.

Draco went on to study the Dark Art at some foreign school that no one talked about. I just happened to overhear it on one of my trips to Knockturn Alley to pickup some potions.

Granger and Weasley married. Everyone knew they would. But as foolish Gryffindors, they acted before the thought. They never thought of how much of a future they held. Until a certain Christmas in their seventh year when they learned that love went past silly mistletoe.

It's funny how much we really know. Perhaps Trelawney wasn't that bad of a Professor.

And maybe I just simply needed love.

After five years from when Harry graduated from Hogwarts and became the new DADA Professor, we moved into a small loft right outside of Hogsmeade. It was basic knowledge that we eventually would do so. I let Harry use red in the bathroom, and he left me use green blankets for the bedroom.

We had visitors every now and then, but it was mostly our gateway from publicity.

I was somehow the man who lived.

Who loved the boy who lived.

It flooded the papers, the magazines and the books. We acted like it wasn't all happening, but we always made sure to close the blinds incase paparazzi came by to snap photos. It was annoying, but as times grew on, the photos died down. People became more focused with a free life. Away from the dark times, away from the past.

But still, Harry gave me the white pieces when we played chess. He had me a cup of tea ready after dinner, where we would sip away our paperwork and cherish the fact we had each other. I could look at Harry with the smile that I had hidden for years and get the response of love I desired. It became natural. Like a ritual.

We always had a bowl of candy hearts in the middle of our dining room table.

We had three chess sets in a closet for back up.

There were just some memories of the past you just couldn't get rid of.

They were sometimes the only things that kept us alive.

Harry and myself got into our occasional fight here and there. Just little nitpicking.

But his kisses healed all wounds.

His love cured my heart.

And sometimes when we played chess, and things became more passionate, the black and white chess pieces would fall to the ground in a clutter. Mismatching into each other. The two colors formed one. They formed everything that we loved for. They gave us a reason, they gave us desire. They showed us falling but getting back up from the ground.

They showed our world.

Two colors. Black and white. But it reminded me of two other colors. Two other houses.

But houses had little meaning since there was love.

Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Red and Green.


But still to this day I have yet to allow Harry to plaster up silly Gryffindor Flags around our house.

The End

Until next time - Simplicity