"What?!"

"I'm sorry," Bill says, not sounding sorry at all. "But it's an important bank meeting. The goblins are insisting."

"Get Fleur to take them then!"

"She works there too. Please, you don't want to let our daughter down, do you?"

I am fucking seething. It is so fucking typical of Bill to use the Mia card.

"But I fucking hate Quidditch."

"Well, you're the only person in the whole fucking world who seems to."

My hand itches to slap him across his arrogant face if only he were in front of me.

Selfish bastard. It was his idea to buy Mia and her friends the tickets as a surprise for her fifteenth birthday, including an exclusive meet and greet with the Wiltshire Wanderers, her favourite team in the world.

"I had plans," I grit.

Bill scoffs. "You have all year long to go on your spa weekend. Mimi is only home for the summer. Try putting her first for a change."

"You are not seriously saying this to me Bill after you walked out on us both to go fuck a Veela."

"Fleur is only part Veela, and as I told you, it was more than just sex. We fell in love with one another."

"Whatever, Bill. You used to love me, remember?"

"I'm not going over this again, Soléne. I am simply phoning you to tell you that I can no longer take Mia and her friends to the Wiltshire Wanderers game. If you choose not to take them then you will just have to break the news to her. Goodbye."

And then the fucktard hangs up! Angry, I toss my phone hard against the wall and watch it shatter. I had been looking forward to my spa weekend which was in fact my friend, Gina's, hen party. The timing with the Quidditch game had been perfect as it meant I need not feel guilty about abandoning Mia on a summer weekend. In just two weeks' time she will be going back to Hogwarts to start her fifth year. 

Sighing, I retrieve my wand and fix my phone. Then I go to my daughter's bedroom, knocking quietly on her door. 

"What?" Mia grunts in greeting. 

I open the door and stick my head around the door. I am about to tell her that the Quidditch trip has been cancelled thanks to her no good father. But then I see all the Wiltshire Wanderers posters pinned to her wall. Her favourite, their Keeper, Blaise Zabini takes up the most space.

And I realize I simply cannot let her down. 

"Just to let you know that there's been a slight change of plans. I'm taking you tomorrow instead of your father."

"But what about aunt Gina's hen party?" My red haired daughter asks. "You've been looking forward to it."

I sigh. "Not important. Your father paid a lot of money for these tickets. And it's not often you get a chance to meet your heroes."

"I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, Mimi. Now don't stay awake too long. I want to get away early."

"Promise, Mum. Just half hour longer."

Smiling, I blow her kiss and close the door. 

"That fucking bastard!" Gina screams down the phone once I tell her I'm not going to make it. "I can't believe him. You're my maid of honor. That twat doesn't want you to have any fun, I swear."

"It's a work thing, apparently." I mutter, hating that I'm letting down my best friend. "And Mimi has been looking forward to it all summer."

"Of course she has," Gina says, her tone softening at the mention of her favourite person in the whole world. "I just wish there was another way. Are you sure there's no one else that can take her?"

"Not this last minute, no. Bill has left me zero notice."

"Argh, I'm so disappointed." Gina fumes. "It's not going to be the same without you."

"I'm really sorry, Gina. I don't even like Quidditch."

"Well, at least you'll get to meet Draco Malfoy."

"Who?" 

"For fuck's sake, Sol," Gina laughs, "He's like the most famous Quidditch player in the whole fucking world. And he's gorgeous. Like, makes you want to cry kind of beautiful. And he's got that whole Death Eater past. Ooo, I'm getting goose pimples just thinking about him."

I wrinkle my nose. I only know of Blaise Zabini because Mia cannot ever shut up about him. The name sounds fairly familiar, though. 

Gina goes on and on to tell me about how she wants to have an orgy with the entire team, seeming to forget about her soon to be husband, Mike. 

After we say our goodbyes. I make myself a hot chocolate and take it to bed, reading up on some new cake recipes for the bakery.

The next morning. I rush around, yelling at Mia to get the fuck out of bed. We still have to go across to the other side of London to pick up her friends, Jack and Maisey before making the long drive to Wiltshire.

All the way there, the kids yell excitedly about the Wanderers. "I can't wait to meet Cho Chang!" Maisey sighs heavenly. "Do you think she'll sign my bra? I bet she smells divine."

"Nah, Pansy Parkinson for me, every time." Jack chuckles, his eyes glinting gleefully. 

Good god, was I this horny at the age of fifteen? Try as I might, I cannot recall. Twenty years ago, I was already crushing on Bill. Maybe I was? It seems strange to me now - the idea of having a crush. I've never looked at anyone else other than Bill. How sad and pathetic is that? Clearly, he had been looking at other women. And then some.

My heart clenches painfully. It had only been year since he walked out on us, and it still hurt like a bitch. He couldn't divorce me quick enough, putting a ring on Fleur's finger even before the ink was dry on the papers.

As predicted, the traffic is a nightmare. And it does not help that it's a sweltering hot day and the air conditioning in my car has broken. I should get it fixed, really. But then I remember all the bills which still need paying at the bakery and I quickly dismiss the idea.

I should have got a job in the bank. And then maybe I would actually have money and a husband still. But my love of baking pulled me in a different direction. I think of my little bakery, Soléne's, and smile. It makes me happy. And that's what counts. It's what I always tell Mia. Do what makes you happy, fuck everything else. 

Unfortunately, going to see a Quidditch game is definitely not what is making me happy right now.

"Mum, stop blasting your horn," Mia mutters, "it's not going to make the traffic move any faster."

"But it's so fucking hot!" I complain. "I should be sitting by a poolside sipping cocktails with my best friends right now. But instead, I am stuck in a traffic jam in a car full of horny teenagers! Fucking Bill!"

"Geez, thanks, Mother," Mia drawls, rolling her eyes. "Sorry my life is such an inconvenience to you."

"I don't mean that, darling," I sigh, offering her an apologetic smile. "I'm just angry at your dad for once again putting us last."

"Don't, Mum," Mia frowns, "Don't bad mouth Dad to me. It's not fair."

I bet he does it about me all the time. "You're right," I say, "I'm sorry. This is your special trip, and I promise to keep my mouth zipped for the rest of the weekend. Now, which hotel did your dad book? He didn't say - just that accommodation was all arranged and paid for."

Mia's eyes grow wide. "Mum, we're not staying in a hotel. We're camping."

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!" I yell, wanting to cry. "Please tell me you're fucking kidding me? I hate camping!"

"Relax, it will be fun," Maisey unhelpfully says, "Besides the tent is already there, we won't have to erect it. Ooo, we can cook baked beans over a fire for our dinner tonight. I've always wanted to do that."

I was supposed to be staying in a five star hotel at the spa tonight. Instead, I'm stuck camping in a shitty little tent, possibly eating baked beans straight out of a can. 

Half an hour later, we have found our tent, one of about a million pitched in a cow field, which still smelt like dung. It's not even a yurt, but a moldy little two man tent, which admittedly looks bigger on the inside, but only marginally. 

"Where are the beds?" I ask looking around at the empty space.

"Sleeping bags, Mum," Mia says, pointing to the canvas bags on the corner. "Dad wanted an authentic camping experience."

"Did he now?" I grit, trying my best not to call him all the names under the sun.

Dumping our stuff, we make our way towards the stadium where hundreds of other people are milling about, wearing green - the Wiltshire Wanderers team colour. 

"Mum, me, Maisey and Jack want to go and check out the stalls. Dad gave me some gold to buy souvenirs."

I look at my watch. "Fine, you go, and we'll meet back here in forty five minutes for your meet and greet with the team. In the meantime, I'm going to find the loos and then somewhere to sit and have a cup of tea."

My god, do they even serve tea in this place? It's all I want after that car journey from hell. 

I look around, wondering where to start. There are so many stalls, tents and trailers. And not one single fucking sign. 

"Excuse me," I ask a passing, loved up couple. "Do you know where the toilets are?" 

They point in the general direction of some trailers. I thank them and hurry off. None of the trailers have signs on, so I decide to just randomly try one. Luckily, I find a toilet at the back. Not sure if it's an official public toilet, but I'm so desperate, I don't care. Besides, no one is around. 

I flush the chain and wash my hands, mentally preparing myself for the hell ahead of me. Opening the door, I step back into the trailer. 

And I almost jump out of my skin. 

For, it turns out, I'm not alone at all.

*******