~*Everything You Want*~

Epilogue: Swear It Again

Thalia: *cries* It's done... it's done.....I'll miss it sooo much!! *composes self slightly* I hope that you all have enjoyed the adventures of Roger and Cho. Until next time...

Dove: Yes, next time, when we get to start all over, and Roger gets to break up a "catfight between the Head Boy and a teacher!"  But that's for "The End and the Beginning".  We hope to see you there.  We loved sharing this story with you… we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!  *makes self stop crying* I'm getting bloody sentimental over a fanfic again!  *runs off to cry in Andy-chan's lap*

Disclaimer: *sob* Not *sniffle* ours…

"I'm never gonna say goodbye,

'Cause I never want to see you cry,

I swore to you my love would remain,

And I swear it all over again..."

-Westlife, "Swear It Again"

Cho Chang stirred a pot of soup on the stove, humming to herself softly. Tucking a braid of long black hair back over her shoulder, she gazed out the window at the setting sun with a contented smile on her face. It was her twenty-second birthday, and earlier during the day, she had gotten an owl from Roger, bearing a spray of plum blossoms and a single red rose, along with a letter that had her blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl for a good hour.

            He had stated in his letter that her real present would be delivered later on, and that he hoped that she would like it. She had quickly written him a reply, saying that she trusted his taste, which had improved dramatically since the Yule Ball her fifth year. The owl, Troilus, was the same one that she had given him for his eighteenth birthday, all those years ago, when, after a long, silly and entirely pointless year of trying their best to hate each other, they had finally been honest with each other about how they felt. She had watched Troilus fly away out the window with a nostalgic smile on her face.

            It had been hard, trying to keep in touch, not seeing each other for weeks at a time. There were white nights and lonely letters flying back and forth. But they had made it. And, if she had any say in the matter, they would continue on, together, for a long time yet.

            There was a small pop in the foyer. Somebody was home, probably one of her parents. Just as she was about to turn around, she heard a happy baritone voice calling out, "Accio Cho!" and found herself flying into Roger's arms.

            She had time for one shrieking giggle before his mouth covered hers and his arms came around her waist.  Her hands came up to bury themselves in the hair at the back of his neck (it was getting long again) and they stood together in the middle of the hallway and time seemed to stop, as it always did, before they broke apart.

            "First things first, I suppose?" Cho giggled breathlessly.  "Hi, by the way."

            "Hullo," he grinned down at her.  One of his arms tweaked the once-again long braid of hair snaking down her back.  "Did you miss me?"

            "Hardly at all," she lied with a grin.  "You're early.  You weren't supposed to be here for another week."

            He laughed.  "I know.  Happy birthday."

            She leaned her head against his chest.  His heartbeat was a thud in her ear.  She smiled.  "This is the perfect present.  How did you get them to let you go?"

            "Oh… told them I had something very important to do."  He looked down at her, eyes serious.  "Cho, I meant to-"

            There was a hissing sound.  "My soup!" she shrieked.  She was out of his arms and back at the stove with wand out in a flash, so quickly Roger thought she might have Apparated.  He sighed.  That was attempt number one.

            There was a louder hissing sound, and Cho dropped her wand and seized the pot, only to let go of it a moment later and dash to the sink, rinsing her hand in cold water. Roger slowly walked forward. "Are you all right?"

"Yes... yes, just let me get this blasted thing..." she muttered, then cursed fluently in Chinese as the pot started bubbling over. Roger, shaking his head slightly, went over and cast a slight Cooling Charm on the pot, which stopped bubbling. Cho shot him an amused but grateful look and took it off the stove, placing it on the table.

"All right, now... back to my birthday and other things..." She smiled and strode up to him, linking her arms behind his neck as he pulled her close, "I've missed you after all."

One hand fiddling with her braid, he smiled down at her, "Missed you more," he said softly before kissing her.

A little while later, Cho pulled away, her face rather red, though she still had a smile on her lips. "So... you were saying?"

Roger swallowed, and paused. Now... come on... it's in the left pocket... you love her, she loves you... come ON, Davies!!

Another pop, and Mrs. Chang walked into the kitchen. "Roger! What a pleasant surprise. We weren't expecting you until next week, but do join us for dinner!"

Attempt two, Roger thought wryly as he made himself smile and accept the invitation.

Of course, this meant that Mrs. Chang, being the dear, hospitable Chinese mother that she was, immediately started bustling around in the kitchen, looking for ingredients to Roger's favorite Chinese dishes, ordering Cho to help her, muttering about how the "poor boy needs a good home-cooked meal", and shooing Roger away whenever he offered to help.

Cho gave him an apologetic smile as she set a platter of steamed pickerel on the table. "After dinner, all right?"

"All right."

Dinner turned out to be quite a long affair. Ying-Ying had summoned Cecilia through the floo network, telling her that her errant son was home. Needless to say, Cecilia and Matthew Davies had headed over right away, and Roger got fussed over once again, much to his chagrin and Cho's amusement. It was not until nine o'clock, when everyone had finished eating and asking Roger questions about work, and both his parents and hers had retired, that he and Cho were able to be alone together.

"Let's sit outside," Cho said with a smile. He nodded, and followed her outside to his yard, and the little bench by the birdbath. She sat down and looked at him with a nostalgic smile.

"This is where we met," he remarked. She laughed lightly.

"Yes, and you pulled my hair." She gave him a mock-glare, and he lightly tugged her braid again.

"Well, you have such beautiful hair... I was furious at you for cutting it!"

She raised an eyebrow, "I only cut it because you were being a prat."

He smiled to himself, "And you were too, that year, pretending to be in love with Cedric, making me mad with jealousy..."

"Well, what was I supposed to do when a gorgeous part-veela was batting her eyelashes at you? I wanted to tear her hair out!"

"You were supposed to remember that any girl, no matter how gorgeous, could never match up to a certain feisty... adorable... little... Chinese... witch." He punctuated his words with kisses, and she relaxed in his arms.

"We were rather dense, weren't we?"

"Yes, yes we were," he agreed. "But... now, we're not so dense any more, and we know where we stand, so Cho, may I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but go on," she looked at him expectantly.

He swallowed rather nervously. It's now or never, Davies...  "Cho, you know I love you," he began.  "And I… I wrote out a whole speech, but I've forgotten it… because I'm never quite clear-headed around you, even after all these years, but…"  He swallowed, took a deep breath, and sunk down on one knee, rummaging in his left cloak pocket.  "Cho, I know I'm a few years too late; I've been scared to tie you down to me when my job was so dangerous, but… I realize more and more, every day, that I can't live without you by my side anymore and… this might be selfish, and in my line of work, there's always the chance I won't come home in the evening, but if I do, I want to come home to you…"  He opened the little velvet box he had procured at last from his pocket and a band of white gold, shimmering with a diamond surrounded by little sapphires sparkled there.  "Cho… I love you more than life, more than the world, more than anything, ever.  You are my light, my reason to wake up in the morning, the one thing I dream about, the most precious thing I have… will you marry me?"

And Cho, who was dangerously close to tears despite the smile on her face, nodded, pulling him gently up from the ground and throwing her arms around him.  "I thought you weren't ever going to ask," she said on something that was a cross between a laugh and a sob before she stood on her tip-toes, drew his face down to hers and kissed him in the moonlight by the shadowy shape of an old, wind-worn birdbath.


            "...And that is why you shouldn't worry so much about Dorian Malfoy. You see, when you're young, there will always be silly misunderstandings. And boys... well, they can just be really dense." Cho smiled at the fifteen-year-old girl sitting next to her, her face a younger version of her own with only slight differences in the lines of the jaw and hair a shade lighter. Charisse Davies smiled up at her mother.

            "Well... I guess that I don't have it the worst after all... you and father and that quarrel that lasted over a year... and you had known each other since you were kids!"

            "You better believe it," Cho smiled wryly. "But see, it all works out in the end. Just make sure that you really, truly love someone, you won't give up on it, and..." Cho gave her daughter a very conspiratorial look, "If he persists in being a prat, make him shut up by Silencing Charm if necessary and yell at him until he listens."

            Charisse giggled, and a deeper, amused voice spoke up at the door. "What in the world do you think that you are teaching our daughter, Cho?"  Roger Davies looked indulgently at his wife and daughter sitting together on a couch, and shooed Charisse off to bed. He raised an eyebrow at his wife, waiting for her to answer his question.

            "Oh, nothing much, just what to do when she falls in love against her will with some thick-headed boy, based on my own experiences," Cho answered archly.  Roger mock-glared at her, and she laughed. "Well... I'm just trying to spare Charisse a little trouble, that's all. Don't you think that's a good idea?"

            He chuckled wryly, "Come to think of it... perhaps you're right. Although this boy in question..." his eyes narrowed slightly into the selfsame expression that used to drive Death Eaters to tears back before Voldemort's defeat. Cho rolled her eyes.

            "Oh come on... like we were any better at that age..."

            He finally relented, and his face broke out in a smile, "True enough, I suppose."

            Cho grinned, "But... we made it."

            He sat down next to her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Taking her hand, the small, slender hand that wore his ring, in both of his, he smiled. "Yes we did."