“It’s amazing. I swear, I could run down a couple of their kids and everyone would still be all smiles and chuckles,” the man exclaims as he approaches me and extends his hand towards me, but I ignore it. The man seems surprised at that gesture of hostility and then looks me up and down. Still unimpressed I fold my arms before my chest. I didn’t have the chance to comb my hair this morning because we were late and I must look like a mess, but I really don’t care. Just as I turn to leave he takes hold of my arm.

“You rodent!” I bite at him, but he just smirks.

“Well, that’s not nice. But of course, you’ve never had an affair before, so you don’t know how to behave. For one, rodent isn’t a very nice nickname for your lover, dear. I think we should start with something as conventional as honey.”

For a brief and very, very fleeting moment I had actually thought that Malfoy didn’t like the fact that I was crying. Not in a grumpy father’s reaction to his crying daughter, “I’m watching the telly and your crying is drowning out the sound. Shut your gob! Grow up!”, it felt more like a father who genuinely cares when his daughter is unhappy.

And as if we haven’t just escaped our seemingly inevitable deaths he casually glances at me, balances the wand and says, “So, do you want to get physical?”, with only the faintest hint of a joke in his voice.

Before I can pipe up and marvel at the ludicrousness of his remark I hear a distant *pop* coming from behind me.

“Drop your wand, Malfoy!”

Monday morning.
I wake up. I feel pretty good. Then there are problems. There’s a window where usually a wall is. I chalk it up to me still slumbering. Confused I stretch my arms above the blankets. A second problem occurs. It’s cold and it can’t be cold, because Ron hates the cold and always turns up the heat to frigging hot-level. Growing more confused I struggle to sit straight up and put my hands beside me on the mattress. Another problem arises. Our wallpaper isn’t bright yellow and this wallpaper is. Conclusion: I’m not in our house.

“I forgot to ask. That’s stupid, isn’t it? I went to his home to hurt him and when he wasn’t there I didn’t even ask where I could find him. I did opt to hurt his wife. Pansy provoked me of course,” Ron rambles and I feel he talks so much, because somehow he knows what I’m going to say and he doesn’t want to hear it.

“You hurt Pansy?” I ask incredulously.

“She poked me,” he defends himself and I give in, because in a few seconds I’m going to break his heart.

“You do hate to be poked. Did you tell her about…you know?”

“Will you please go out with me?” he asks and presents me with the bouquet.

“Yes, I’d like that,” I consent and then it dawns on me. What I’ve just done makes me an even bigger bitch, because I’ve given him a reason to hope. And why not, I think while I accept the bouquet. I could fall in love with him again. It has happened before, so why can’t it happen again?

Amidst a busy playground where children are running around, chasing each other and screaming a lone boy sits on a swing. The swing is gently swaying. The boy seems engulfed in his own thoughts and though the swing is barely moving his fingers are wrapped tightly around the ropes as if he’s afraid he’s going to fall off and hurt himself. A girl comes closer and the boy isn’t aware of her presence until she addresses him.

“Hi, I’m Molly. What’s your name?”

“I’m ready."

“Ready for what?” he asks, expectantly. His stare is intense, he peers deep into my eyes were my feelings lie waiting for him to see.

“For us to start dating. I want to find out what is going on between us.”

“What a joke! Are you serious? You want to date me, now?”

“Okay, okay, Draco. You know what? You don't want to do this? Go away,” and since I can’t walk away in a huff, because my leg is stuck under a tree I just turn my head indignantly.

“Oh, that sounds like a fantastic plan. You’ll never get out and freeze to death. Just lean in as if you’re going to kiss me,” he suggests.

He moves behind the tree again, which is very good, because otherwise I would have punched him for the second time today and his nose still looks a little mangled from the first time.

“Excuse me?”

"Oh, do stop calling me that. It’s Ginny,” she answers and she forces herself to smile at him and not add ‘you fucking arrogant prick’. Harry is trying to read both of their faces, but finally gives up, because he’s tired. The whole evening has been like watching a ping pong match. Everything seemed fine at first, but suddenly Ginny’s attitude towards Cole had become hostile. Kudos to her for trying to hide it, however unsuccessfully, Harry thinks.

“I’ve done something you should have done, before you hired Cole Donovan: a background check. Here are the results. Now fire him,” Minister for Magic Lindsay Warner is saying to Harry and I just stand by. Seriously, how could he not run a background check. It’s standard procedure. And now when Warner is asking him to do something completely reasonable, Harry looks conflicted, although I'm not sure why. She isn't asking Harry to assasinate Cole; she just wants him fired, which is perfectly understandable, since Cole is shifty and not very good at anything.

“Who told you he is dating?”

“Ginny.”

“What did she say? Did she say it like that, that dad is dating?” Molly inquires intent on knowing every detail, though I don’t know why.

“She didn’t exactly say he is dating, she said he had female company over, but that’s good, right? We’ve been divorced for a long, long time now and this is the first time he has a girlfriend. I’m happy for him,” I ramble.

“Ha!”

“You know, all those years you were preparing for your position as the new Dark Lord or to take over world domination or whatever the hell you were planning to do, you should have taken some time out for physical exercise. It makes all the difference. Although, not so much, really. Physically fit loser, unhealthy loser, you’re still a loser."