"So, how's working with the ex going?"

"He's not actually an ex, Harry," I muttered, wondering why this fucktard was bothering me at work, "not when we were never really together."

"Oh, that's right," Harry scoffed pompously, as he sat back in the chair across from my desk, "because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to be with a blood traitor even though he was more than happy to continually bone one."

"Fuck off you half blood dick, haven't you got a world to save?" I said, angrily tapping at my keyboard.

"Not really, Ronnie," Harry sighed heavily. "If I'm being honest I'm avoiding the office. Your sister keeps calling me every five minutes wanting this and wanting that; complaining about aches and pains. It's driving me nuts."

"Which is ironic because it's your fucking nuts that got you in this situation in the first place." I barked, having zero sympathy for this idiot.

Not when I was suffering through problems of my own.

Draco had made an obvious effort to keep a distance between us since the incident in the kitchen, choosing to forgo sitting in on any catering talk. And when we had been forced in each other's company, he acted visibly coolly towards me.

I couldn't tell if this was him respecting my wishes or if he was indeed genuinely upset by me snubbing his 'advances'.

Either way, I felt hurt, but I had to keep reminding myself that it was probably best this way. It would make it slightly easier when it came to saying goodbye after the nuptials. Slightly.

The truth was, I missed him. And that afternoon in the kitchen made me realise just how much. I craved to be in his company. But I was kidding myself if I thought that I would be happy with just friendship.

Because I would always want more.

And beyond anything it frustrated me knowing that he felt that too, yet he was still going ahead with a marriage that he didn't want.

Well, actually he did want it; that was the problem. He wanted it more than he wanted me.

He had a choice.

And that's what hurt the most.

I focused my attention back on Harry who was still moaning about his seven month pregnant wife.

"... and when I told her I know pain because I've been Crucio'd countless amount of times, she threw the Bumper Book of Baby Names at me! And it really hurt!"

"Harry - I don't know much about pregnancy, but have you considered not being at the birth? It doesn't sound like you're going to be much fucking help."

"What Ginny needs to do is ride a hippogriff naked across the Niagra Falls at twilight whilst drinking an infusion of bubotuber puss and sopophorous bean juice," Luna said as she serenely braided her hair from behind her desk. "Daddy says it always helped Mummy cure her aches when she was carrying me."

"Explains a lot." I muttered, wondering how I managed to constantly surround myself with fucking freaks.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, nodding over to her. "I'll let her know. Perhaps she can go tonight and give me a night off."

"You're fucking pathetic Harry," I snapped. "My sister deserves better. What are you going to be like when the baby comes along and starts keeping you up at night?"

"Nothing a simple silencing charm on the spare bedroom won't be able to cure." Harry said wiggling his eyebrows conspiratorially.

"Is there not a single guy in the world who hasn't been born with the fucktard gene?" I snarled angrily. "You're all the fucking same. You all cherish your stupid dicks over everything else, not caring who you hurt in the process."

"For crying out loud Ronnie," Harry seethed driving a hand through his hair. "Whatever Malfoy's done now, don't tar the whole of wizardkind with the same brush!"

"Who said this was even about him?!" I spluttered.

"Because it's always about him with you! That guy is poison! I've said it from day one - don't you remember? That first day on the train? He threatened me just because I hung out with the likes of you! He's been brought up to hate you and he'll always feel that, you know. It'll never go away. You will always be a lowly Weasley to him - a penniless, foul mouthed blood traitor!"

"HE HELPED YOU DEFEAT YOU-KNOW-WHO!"

"Yeah, but when he thought I was dead, what did he do? He left you. And let me tell you, as much as your sister is fucking annoying me at the moment, I would never leave her for anything! I would put her above everyone and everything else in the world."

"You left her after Dumbledore carked it to go on a fucking camping trip with two other women for a whole year!"

"It wasn't exactly a gap year, Ronnie." Harry scoffed as he leant back in his chair polishing his glasses on his robes. "I was trying to save the world."

"And Draco was trying to save me!"

"Oh yeah? So why is it, then, that he is going to be paying you to serve up chocolate eclairs whilst he declares his life to another woman?"

I had no answer.

I fucking hated it when Harry was right.

*****

As soon as Harry left, I decided to abandon the office and go and drown my sorrows in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Well you look like you're having a great day, Weasley," a familiar voice drawled next to me as I slammed my empty tumbler back down on the bar.

"Fuck off, Blaise," I muttered, not bothering to look up as I signalled to Tom to refill me.

"My, my, that's no way to talk to a friend."

"Friends?" I scoffed. "In what way are we ever considered friends? You're just as bad as the rest of them; screw them and then lose them."

"Because I think you forget, I know only too well what you're going through. I understand why you are feeling so bitter about everyone and everything right now, Weasley. Whether you like it or not, you and me are in the same boat."

"You know they're not even screwing?" I couldn't help but snark. "How fucked up is that? And even more than that, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

Blaise gave a loud scoff. "Is that what he told you?"

"No, because if he did, I probably wouldn't believe it either." I glanced up at him wondering if I should say anymore.

In the end I realised I was too fucking pissed to care.

"She told me she couldn't imagine ever having sex with someone she didn't love." I continued as I studied him carefully, watching him pause at my words as he brought his glass to his lips. "... and she's only ever been with one man."

"She said that?" He asked, shakily placing his glass back down on the bar as his black eyes suddenly urgently searched mine. "She really said that?"

I nodded; watching as Blaise released a long, drawn out breath as if he had been holding it in for a very, very long time.

"She loves me," he croaked. "I fucking knew it!"

"Yeah, congratulations," I muttered, downing my next firewhisky and wincing as it seared my throat. "But as I keep pointing out, it's not fucking enough."

His face fell as we exchanged sad, knowing looks.

The look of knowing we were both going to die surrounded by a litter of fucking grumpy cats.

*****