The One That Got Away

What comes next

It had been three years without Freya. It wasn't easy having your ex be a celebrity. It wasn't easy to see her face on every newspaper and magazine. But it was such a pretty face. How he missed her touch and her mind. Since she had refused Tom, he had really thrown himself into tracking down the objects that he wanted to use for his Horcruxes. So far he had acquired the diadem, after a trip to Albania. Now he worked a nod at Borgin and Burke's, knowing that somehow the cup and locket would be in the Smiths' possession as they were descended from Hufflepuff herself. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not stop picturing Freya.

Her voice. Her composure. Her intelligence.

Sometimes he would find himself talking to her. But she was not there. He would stare at an empty seat in front of him and wonder if she would ever come back to him. He had begun to have her followed.

He knew that tomorrow she would be at the Cemetery in Quebec. He knew that today she would be out buying flowers. Lots of flowers.

Sometimes she would visit him in dreams. He would dream of their life together, how unstoppable they would have been.

Tom was colder now. He was cruel.

There were days when her smile consumed what he had left of his soul.

There were others when he was so engrossed in dark magic that he couldn't even remember his name.

He sat still in his apartment. It was shabby compared to where he would have been staying had he married Freya. Any place without her was garbage.

He looked at the time. She would be leaving her lavish office for the flower shop. She practically lived there. Her Manor has become so unused that Freya had turned it into an orphanage.

Tom remembered the glowing article in the press about how selfless it had been. Tom had remembered the flush of jealousy that passed through him when he realized the reporter had gotten to speak with Freya.

He walked to the floo.

"Pub d'Érable" he spoke clearly as green flames engulfed him.

When he arrived, he immediately went to the coat room for he knew exactly who was going to walk through that door, trying to avoid buying flowers for her family.

"Freya!" Said The bartender jovially. "It's not a Holliday, what are you doing here?" Suddenly his tone changed. "Oh it's that time of the year."

"I'm afraid so, Gerard. But this year the floral motifs will be rainbow."

"Trying to light up the world again?"

"You know it." Said Freya, laughing slightly.

"So, Freya What can I get for you?" Asked the bartender,

"I'm torn. Martini or Scotch?" She Asked,

"We could try a martini with scotch." Suggested Gerard.

"No, no. Martini I suppose, but make it dry."

"Coming right up." Said Gerard.

Tom looked out at her. She hadn't aged a day.

She held her head in her hands. Tom wondered at how everyone in Freya's life seemed so amazing how she seemed to bring out the best in them.

When her martini came she drank it quickly, then bid the man farewell as she made her way to the flower shop.

He watched through the window as she took a deep breathe before walking in. The florist, who looked about her age greeted her and gave her a hug. Tom's chest clenched as the male florist smiled at her, the tension slowly eased when he saw a girl walk out and kiss the florist on the cheek before giving Freya a hug. The pair helped Freya pick the perfect sets of flowers. A rainbow motif.