The Dark Mark (The Girl Who Lived part II)

Ron's Ending: Roses Are Red

I sighed as I stood behind the cash register that was placed on the granite countertop on that cold, wet, and rainy day. The streets of the "Big City" were bare. Business was slow. An apple pie had finished cooling on the windowsill, which I then placed in the display case filled with cakes, cookies, and other tooth aching foods. I then wiped the remnants of the pie stuck to my hands on my white apron covered in flour. The world I now lived in was as other people might say, "bland", compared to the world of wizards and magic. I left that place for what seemed like decades. But in actuality, it had only been six months. My friend's at Hogwarts had often asked me, "why". But I simply told them that there was no longer a place for me there. I had seen too much. Been through too much. I'm reminded of that every time I glance at my "tattoo" on my forearm, often covered by the long sleeves of my cardigans. So, I packed my bag, and moved to the States for a new start.

A place where I wasn't constantly reminded of the all the pain. All the suffering. I remember that Harry, Hermoine, and the Weasley's took me to the airport for one, and possibly final goodbye. "Make sure that you stay warm, now". Mrs. Weasley had nagged me. She was beginning to tear up. "Are you sure about this?" Harry had asked me. "Yes. I have to". I had simply answered. My gate was called and all passengers begun to board. I got myself a spot in line and watched as the pack of ginger's, along with Hermoine and Harry, walk in the opposite direction. "M'am. Boarding pass, please". I turned to the woman checking the tickets. "Sorry. Here". I handed her my boarding pass. As I was in the jet bridge and about to board the plane, my name was called. "Scarlet! Wait!" I turned to find Ron running rather slowly towards the gate. Several minutes later, he arrived. The distance was rather short for a normal person, and they would've arrived within the span of several seconds. But this was Ron, and he was not as you would put it, a "normal person". When he finally reached me, out of breath and sweaty, a majority of the passengers had already boarded. "I don't have much time. Security is after me. But before you leave, I have something I wanted to tell you. I've never seen you as a Weasley when you were adopted into the family. Because I want to be the one that-" I never heard the rest of what he had wanted to say, for he was dragged away by the security team.

I didn't miss the world of magic. But what I did miss from time to time, was the people. I missed Harry who would push up his glasses that fell to the end of his nose, Hermoine with her nose stuck in a book, George's pranks, Neville's attentiveness, and Ron's constant eating. I ran my fingers along the cool countertops. The rain ever so gently tapped against the windows of the bakery. A yellow Lamborghini without the slightest scratch pulled into one of the parking spots. Not a even single smudge on the window. The driver seat door opened, and out stepped Vincent. You may be wondering who this "Vincent" character is. Well, allow me to fill you in. Vincent wasn't magical in any sort of way. We met on the plane on my way to the States. Sparks flew, or maybe it was the turbulence... and we became business partners, which eventually became more. He was more of an investor than a business partner. He entered the shop, the chimes tingling. His cinnamon shaded hair that was slicked back, contrasted with his fair skin tone. Even from afar, his hazel eyes with several golden flecks could be seen as clear as day. "Scarlet, I'm back". He hung light gray armani suit on the coat rack in the back. He returned soon after and stood behind me, his perfectly sculpted muscular arms wrapped around me. His breath tickled my ear, and my heart was racing. "Is there anything I can do?" He asked. "I need more sugar". I answered him. His cologne filled my nostrils. It was simply intoxicating. He leaned in closer, but I stopped him. "Not that kind of sugar". I said, firmly. He let me go, and left for the back of the store.

My heart was beating so extremely fast. I felt relieved when he was gone. I exhaled in and out, trying to return my pulse to normal. But as I was doing so, someone must have opened the door, as the chimes jingled once more. I looked up, hand over my heart. Feeling my heart race uncontrollably. "How may I help-" I stopped mid-sentence when I saw who had entered the shop. "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Never did I ever think that I'd ever see you here". I said to him. I untied my apron and messily placed it over the counter, and went to join the unexpected visitor at the door. "Ron. It's great to see you". I squeezed him with all my might. "What brings you here?" I asked. "Actually-" He held a bouquet in his hands. He was interrupted by Vincent who entered the room with a large sack of sugar. When he saw us, he dropped the bag where he stood. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow, waiting for some sort of explanation. "Scarlet, who's the help?" Ron said with attitude in his voice. Vincent stepped forward in between the two of us. "I'm Vincent Mackenzie the Third. I am not the help. In fact, I have enough money to buy and sell you. Although, you're probably not worth much". "Vincent. That's enough. He's an old friend. I'd like to catch up with him, if that's all right". It took several pleads, tugs on his sleeve, and a peck on the cheek to convince him to leave for a brief moment.

"Wait, you have a boyfriend?" Ron was definitely irritated. "Yeah. He really isn't that bad when you get to know him". "I never thought that you'd end up with a guy like him. That you'd-" "That I'd what?" "That you'd end up more with a guy like me. Someone that knows everything about you. Does he even know about......?" Ron had obviously meant magic. "He doesn't. And I intend on him not finding out. So if the ministry's worried that I'll tell him, don't worry". Like bodies are filled with blood, my words were filled as well. But it wasn't blood. It was pure venom. "See? He doesn't know the first thing about you. You two obviously aren't meant to be together. He isn't "perfect" for you". Ron had tons of irritation in his voice and from his bright red facial expression, I could tell that he was holding back the urge to scream. Barely. "I'm sorry that I don't have all the time in the world to wait for my "perfect" match!" "You shouldn't have to wait! I'm right here!" He could no longer hold in his screams. If he wanted a shouting match, I'd give him one. "You? Since when? And why NOW all of a sudden? I hadn't heard from you in the longest time, and now you turn up out of the blue! No call! No letters! Nothing!" "I thought I could surprise you! I thought you LIKED surprises! But since you don't seem like you don't want me here, then just pretend I was never here". His voice got quieter at the end of his sentence. He no longer sounded angry, or upset. But, disappointed. He dropped the flowers he had brought on the ground. Red tulips. The flowers were no longer whole, when they hit the floor. The petals fell with a certain grace that could not even be mimicked by the most talented prima ballerina.

A card fell from the bouquet. I picked up the small and short card, and began reading it. There was some writing at the top, then a poem, and then a brief note scrawled in Ron's messy manuscript. The said, "Red tulips are the symbol of perfect love". Below it, was a short, but unbearably sweet poem. So sweet, that you just might get cavities. It read a little something like this. "Roses are red. Violets are blue-" Then, before the next line, there was a side note. It read, "God, I suck at poetry". I continued to read the poem as if I hadn't even seen the side note. "-And with this lame poem, I'll ask you to marry me. And I hope you say, "I do"". I didn't need to read any more. I had read enough. I was about to go outside to catch Ron, when Vincent grabbed me by the arm. "What's that?" He snatched the card away from me. "Nothing". I answered quickly. From the narrowing in his eyes, I knew that he didn't consider it "nothing". "So this is what you're going to do? After all I've done for you? You're going to leave me? For him?" Vincent began pacing along the room. "I gave you everything! My heart! This shop! Everything! And you're going to leave me for him? Impossible. You're not leaving". He tightened his hold on my arm with every word... no, every syllable. I could tell that there'd be a bruise there when he released my arm. "Vincent...." Normally when he let out his anger, he would strike me in some place unnoticeable. My arms for example. They were no longer the color of my face, but a purple hue. They were the reason that I wore long sleeves. He always apologized afterwards, and I forgave him. But this time, I wasn't so sure whether I could or not.

The next few moments happened in a blur. I'm unsure whether this is exactly what happened, but I'll try my best to fit the puzzle pieces together. Vincent raised his arm. I flinched. The door chimed. "Hey, you didn't happen to see a card here-" Ron began to say when he entered the shop for the second time today. When he absorbed his surroundings, he ran between us, and accepted the slap from Vincent. "Scarlet. Call the police". Ron had said as he dealt with Vincent. Several punches later, the police arrived outside the shop. They asked me and Ron a few questions. I showed them the bruises on my arms as a form of evidence. Before Vincent was taken away, Ron spoke to him. I observed this from inside the shop. Ron punched Vincent one last time, and entered the shop. He took a seat next to me in one of the wooden chairs and rubbed his knuckles. Ron must have hurt himself more than Vincent when he punched him in the jaw, even though he'd never admit it. "Can we start over?" He asked. "I'd like that very much". I answered. "Then, I'll have the sweetest thing in here". I stood from my seat and was about to fetch something from the display case, but Ron grabbed onto my fingers. I turned to face him. "I was hoping to do this later when I could do this properly, but I want to do it now". He reached into his pocket, and retrieved a twizzler. He unwrapped the packaged candy and wrapped the twizzler around my left hand ring finger several times, and attached the two end pieces together to form some sort of makeshift ring. "I know that it isn't much, but it's all I can afford right now. But even without it, you're still the sweetest thing in here. So.... what's your answer?" He asked, eagerly. And so, I answered him in the form of a poem, just like the one he had written me. "Roses are red. Violets are blue. I return all of your feelings. Which is why at the altar, I'll most certainly say, "I do"".