A/N: LAST CHAPTER! Ohmigod, this is so weird to actually finish it. Wow. This chapter is very short – I didn't actually need it, so you don't HAVE to read this chapter. I just felt that I left too much hanging on, like what happened with everyone else. Enjoy – The Stone Speaks: Finale.
ATTENTION: Yes, it has been brought to my notice that I bought Percy back from the dead. –hem- All part of the master plan, folks. Though I have now changed it to Snapey.
Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to be as smart enough as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-
The Stone Speaks
Chapter Fifty-Nine: The End
She, with a slight struggle due to lack of strength, reached up, twined her arms around Draco's skinny neck and then, looking straight up into his face, murmured gently, "Can I kiss you?"
"Perhaps," Draco replied, and then brought his head down to hers. Their noses touched, and he smiled down before closing the gap between their lips. And something broken felt whole again.
A month had passed. Draco was eighteen; Ginny, still sixteen. Professor Snape disapproved of their year-and-half age difference, as well as of the inter-house relationship, but who gave a damn what he thought?
Draco had found Sanchia the day after what became known as the Sleeping Beauty Morning (Myrtle coined the phrase. Ginny tutted, "bloody typical") and asked her to Hogsmeade, as his promise went – even though the village was destroyed. She smiled and said yes, and surprised everyone by inviting Neville, so Ginny declared it a double-date and she joined in.
Neville and Sanchia got on like a house on fire, despite their different personalities – if ever you went anywhere near the greenhouses in your free-time, you'd come to see the sight of a mud-splattered couple, working side by side with various plants.
Harry hired Ginny for a portrait – of himself, offering a golden ring and a bouquet of clematis ("what were her favourite flowers again, Ginny?" Harry asked worriedly) to a beautiful blonde woman. He was planning to ask Mr. Lovegood's permission over the summer, and then pop the question next Christmas, under the mistletoe (Ginny rolled her eyes at the sentimentality, while Harry scorned her, "details, details, Ginny!).
The fiery Gryffindor princess and the cool Slytherin prince became the It Couple, to the horror of both, and many teenage girls were found sulking and throwing darts at corkboards that looked suspiciously like a redhead girl.
A mandatory after-class club was formed where students traipsed down to Hogsmeade to help heal the little village that had protected Hogwarts. The first thing fixed was the Hog's Head, and butterbeers were a necessity.
And almost everyone was generally happy.
Ginny Weasley, now fully recovered, wandered down to the Black Lake. The squid bobbed lazily just under the surface of the water, allowing a cluster of first-years to bravely poke its tentacles. It was a beautiful day, and she, after having murder attempted on her three times in one day, had decided to live life to its fullest.
She dropped down lightly under the branches of a willow next to the Lake, resting against its trunk. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and basked in the sun rays dancing off of the Lake, and was almost asleep when something hit her lap softly.
Eyes snapping open, Ginny looked down to see a small, pretty, pink cyclamen, freshly cut. A smile graced her lips, and she called, "Thank you!"
A blonde head dropped in front of her, upside down, and grinning; hanging precariously from a willow branch. "Hello," he chirped.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Draco, you're supposed to do that when its raining," she teased, raising one slim auburn eyebrow. "Get it right."
"I was close enough, wasn't I?" Draco asked, pouting. "Anyway," he said in a mystical voice, and waved his hands, "pretend!"
The redhead shook her head. "I'm a terrible actor," she said in a sad, little-girl-lost voice. She fluttered her cinnamon eyelashes hopefully at the male in front of her.
"Then," said Draco, with a grin plastered across his features, "I think its time you took drama classes." He twirled the little pink flower stem between his thumb and index finger.
With a groan, Ginny threw her hands into the air. "Again with the metaphors!" she complained. "Will you just shut up and kiss me?"
So he did.
A/N: It's OVER! I can't believe it! Sorry for such a short chapter. I wanted this to finish on Chapter Sixty, a nice even number, but I couldn't stretch it out any further. Whaddaya think – Neville and Sanchia, eh? I just couldn't bear to leave a heartbroken Neville all by himself, and I was like 'who can he date' and then I thought 'SANCHIA'! So there you go.
I want to thank SO many people! I want to thank everyone who ever reviewed me! I want to thank Mechanical Pencil 0.5, for being the first person to review me (you can go and check if you want). I want to thank fic-princess and bestdreamer for being there practically since Chapter One. I want to thank DancingOnTheGrave and SilverXan for being my amazing fanfiction buddies! And I want to thank all of you who cried when you read this, because I cried, and if none of you did I'm going to be cross.
I would also like to add that I have published a humour one-shot named Boredom (on request for DancingOnTheGrave) and if you're bored and need a laugh, that's were you can go.
ALSO, my next fic is already in progress. It is a Ginny-Tom Riddle fic, named The Letter P, so if you want you can put me on Story Alert, so that you know when I start publishing it. Or not. Whatever.
Thank you to all of you, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. –HUG-