Web pulled a thick green book out of a pine bookshelf that was no higher than her mother's beehive hairdo. On the front, in bold gold capitals, was the title 'Quidditch Techniques of the Woolongong Warriors'.

"Hmm." She said, opening it to the middle. Inside was a moving, coloured diagram showing a move much similar to the one she had pulled off in the Quidditch match she had recently participated.

"Been there, done that," she said cockily. Gulping, she peered over the top of her book. Her mother was looking at a bookshelf full of "The Full History of the Chudley Cannons" books that were still in their special plastic covers that books are packed in while shipping.

'Mum?" she squeaked, hiding behind her book

"Yes."

Her mum turned around, pursing her lips. She recognised that tone as much as Web didn't want to believe it.

"Would you mind if I visited a friend over the holidays?"

"You mean the time you are suspended?"

"Ummm, yes."

"I don't know, ask your father."

Web lowered her book with a frown on her face. She walked off twittering under her breath "ask you father, ask your father! Can't she make a decision herself once in a while? Gee-eez!"

Her father was standing in front a display case full of different types of beater's bats.

"Da-a-ad?" she asked, suddenly becoming interested in the welfare of a dragonfly head-butting the glass window near them.

"Yes Web?"

Her dad also recognised this 'I-am-almost-grovelling-so-please-oh-please-oh-please-let-me-get-away-with-this' voice.

"Would you mind if I visited a friend over the holidays?"

"You mean the time you are suspended?"

"Ummm, yes."

"I don't know, ask your mother."

Web clenched her fists and breathed in. "I did."

"Oh." He whispered 'fuck' under his breath. "Right. Who?"

"Umm... well... uh... this person I know from school?"

"Who Web? I am not going to be letting you go waltzing off to some place for god knows what length of time with who knows what!"

"OKAY, Okay!" Web said over the top of his next words. She buried her chin her chest and mumbled quietly, "Draco."

"Who?"

Web kept her chin buried in her chest but repeated the name slightly louder than before.

"Huh? You mean that rat-faced son of LUCIUS!"

The person at the counter snapped their head around at his words and hissed, "SHUSH!"

Web and her father turned at the exact same time and fixed him with equally as intimidating glares. He went back to his catalogue after making a sort of squeaking sound.

"Dad!"

"Well, it's true."

"What, that he's his son or that he's rat-faced."

"Both."

"DAD!"

He shrugged his shoulders, much like Draco's owl.

"Can I? Please Dad?"

Her dad frowned. "When?"

"The 15th?"

"That's TOMMORROW Web!"

"Oh is it?"

This sudden relapse of dumb blonde-ness didn't improve her father's mood much.

"So you've already organised this."

"No."

"Then why do you have a date in mind?"

"Well, Draco asked if I could go that date."

"Oh, so he's controlling you?"

Web rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "No. he just suggested a date Dad."

This attitude wasn't getting her anywhere either, but it made Web feel better.

Apparently, this is what Web's dad was thinking. "Don't you start that with me young lady,"

Web cringed in anticipation.

"AFTER ALL I HAVE DONE FOR YOU; YOU STAND THERE WITH YOUR SPOILED LITTLE ATTITUDE LIKE YOU DON'T APPRECIATE ALL THE HOURS I PUT IN AT WORK! LIKE YOU DON'T APPRECIATE THE SACRIFICE YOU MOTHER AND I HAVE MADE FOR YOU!"

Web recovered her hands from over her ears.

"I do fucking appreciate everything fucking you and fucking mum have fucking done! I do! I just don't fucking like the fucking way you fucking make fucking assumptions about me! Fucking, fucking, FUCKING!"

"Don't you use that tone young lady." He said, glaring back at a woman who had been angrily staring at them.

'Time for a change of attitude.' Web thought, increasing the span of her pupils so that she resembled some sort of deer.

"I'm sorry Daddy, I just don't think sometimes. I know you work long and hard for me to get all the things I have and I really do appreciate all the sacrifices you and mum have made for me. I am very sorry; whatever can I do to make you understand I am sorry?" She fluttered her eyelashes, before pinching her arm so that tears welled up in her eyes.

Web knew her father's attacks on her off by heart. He had only one, it was always yelled, and always caused large gobs of spit to land on her face. Therefore Web practiced this little ditty, which she knew would please her father to no end.

Her father contracted this very scary looking self-satisfied smile.

"Well, I'm glad you realise this. Why do you have to see him?"

Her father put an awful amount of stress on him, as if he was talking about something really awful.

"Because," Web resisted the temptation to shout, "I love him!" like those girly girls in those soppy seventies romance movies.

"He's my,"

Resisting temptation again...

"Friend."

"Oh. Well, I can't see why you can't make friends with people like... I don't know... well... respectable people."

He suddenly developed a bad cough and wheezed something that sounded a lot like 'Harry Potter'

"Dad! He is respectable. He's nice and caring and a little bit mental but he's civilized!"

Her father's eyebrows went up at the mention of mental. Web tried hard not to say anything about his looks or all hope was lost.

"Mental?" His tone was indecisive yet slightly condescending.

"Joke!" A smile spread across her face from ear to ear, revealing clean, sparkly pearly whites.

He frowned. "Well, I'll think about it. How much time will you be in the vicinity of that man."

"I don't know. On the way there I think."

"How long?"

"I don't know, wouldn't you be the one to know where they live?"

"Don't push it Web, I can still say no you know."

"Sorry."