The former wizard previously known as Draco Malfoy returned to his apartment that day and picked up a newspaper. In some foreign part of the world, one he was fairly sure should have forgotten him by then, a certain celebrity had married his high-school sweetheart.
"Oh, I so care," Draco growled, feeding the wizard newspaper into the paper shredder. He felt a vague sense of satisfaction that Harry Potter had gotten married instead of pursuing an actual career. Draco knew that Potter was rich enough to live comfortably. However, it was just nice to know that he wouldn't accomplish anything worth talking about, while Draco would eventually be a professor of English—hopefully a renowned one. A knock on the door brought Draco out of his imaginings, and he opened it to find the girl from the hallway standing outside.
"Hey," she said cheerfully. "Y'know, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot a while ago, and I thought it was only fitting that we be on friendly terms, seeing as we come from the same background and all." She smiled up at him innocently. Draco stared at her in shock.
"What are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?"
"Facebook," she replied. Draco gritted his teeth, trying to remain calm.
"Listen," he growled. "I don't want to be on 'friendly terms' with you. Nor do I want to have any interaction with you whatsoever—social or otherwise. Don't talk to me again, and quit fucking stalking my facebook!" He slammed the door in her face. …Despite his harsh words, he was pretty sure he'd be hearing from her again. Maybe he needed a new lock.
…
