A/N: None of this is mine. If it were, I wouldn't be here writing, I'd be out publishing books.

Please read and review-my first fic!

Every little girl loves flowers, and I'm no different. When I was young, younger than I am now, anyways, my father would always find wild flowers in a pasture or in a garden and bring them to me. I would always carefully place them in a bottle full of water and put them in a place of honor in my room. Every time a flower would begin to wilt, my father would be there to put a new one in the bottle. I grew to adore flowers, always anticipating the beauty and brightness of the next one. Sunflowers, roses, Indian paintbrushes, panies, etc.; you name it, it was in my room at one time or another. On days when I would come home from school crying, knowing that I was hated and mocked, I would see my flowers and remember that somebody loved me and would always protect me. I was(and still am) a Daddy's girl through and through, just like him in almost every single way. Not a day of my first eleven years went by that I didn't have a flower in my room, placed there by my first true love.

In my eleventh summer, my life completely changed. An owl-a real live owl!- came to my window with a letter attached to its leg. The letter informed me that I, Hermione Jane Granger, was a witch who had gained acceptance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Imagine, me, a witch?!? If I was a witch, how come all those people who had mocked me weren't turned into toads or something? It seemed too good to be true, and I was excited and hesitant, not wanting to leave my Daddy. For the next month, we did everything together, from museums to fishing, until sundown on August 31.

September first came too quickly, the day that I would leave my family for a whole school year to venture into the unknown. My parents drove me to Kings Cross Station where we walked through the barrier of Platform 9 3/4. Mum held me close to her in a tight hug, crying and telling me how proud she was of me. When she was done squeezing me to death, my Daddy took me aside and gave me a single stemmed white rose before telling me good-bye.

That rose was the last flower I've ever received. I tried to keep it alive for as long as I could, but at that time, I didn't know enough charms. When I came to Hogwarts and excelled at everything, I was ecstatic at all that I was learning, but I still missed my Dad. Soon, though, I made the first two friends of my life. Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, and clueless Ron Weasley; I was so excited to have two actual friends. Every year, we would have some epic adventure in which we would tag along with Harry to save his skin before boarding the Hogwarts Express to go back home. I guess Daddy forgot about my flowers over my months of absence.

Now, as I sit here beside the lake under a shade tree, watching the giant squid swim lazily in the water, I realize that it's been seven years since I got my last flower. I see almost all of the Hogwarts grounds covered in Spring splendor and it makes my heart twinge with remorse and longing for the small things from a past life. There are flowers in every size and shape over the enchanted grounds: sunflowers, daisies, daffodils, petunias, little purple flowers with yellow tinges, and, my favorite, roses. I sigh, remembering all of my flowers and wishing I could have just one more flower.

Suddenly, I hear someone walking towards me. I turn and see Harry coming over. A slight breeze ruffles his hair, and my heart beats a strong staccato against my chest. He gives his trademark grin and sits down besides me. His piercing green eyes look into my brown ones. It seems as though he's looking into my soul, and I hope that he doesn't see how I feel about him; I don't want to lose his friendship.

"Hey, 'Mione. What are you doing over here, all by yourself?"

My heart skips a beat and I force myself to speak calmly. "Oh, I'm just admiring the beauty of Spring and remembering stuff from when I was a little girl..."

"I have something for you, Hermione." He cheeks turn slightly pink as he pulls his hands from behind his back. My eyes well up in joy as he places a rose in my hands, with the thorns obviously charmed away. I thank him with tears in my voice and lean up against him. He wraps his arms around me, careful not to crush the rose that I'm holding close to my heart. He leans his head against mine, and I feel perfect peace. In that moment, I remember exactly why every girl loves flowers.

And in my heart, I know that this rose won't be my last.

Fin