Awakened by the sound tittering children and the blaring alarm clock by my side, I decide it is best just to haul myself out of bed once again. There were worse things to agonize about besides feeding three – year olds. "Moooooooooommy," screeched Benny. "Beedie hit me!" Bridget, I thought to myself, Bridget. I don't know what I would do without them. "Okay, what's going on guys?" I think we can find a way to work this out, what'd you think?" They looked up at me, intense brown eyes twinkling just like their fathers' always had.
I jump up and pull them in my arms, and kiss them on the head. "Oh no! The tickle monster is gonna get you!" I growl mockingly and the three of us are laughing hysterically on the enormous bed.
"How about some breakfast before mommy has to go to work?"
"Mommy can we get pancakes?" Bridget asked.
"Bridget, we can definitely get pancakes." I smiled at her. I knew she hated pancakes, but it was Sunday.
Cedric's favorite time for pancakes was Sundays, and I knew that she only ate them for him. She was a bright little girl for her age – but it balanced out. Benny was as rambunctious as a bucking mule.
Cedric died in an accident for the Ministry about five months ago. When Scrimgeour conveyed to me about the fatal attack, I was inconsolable – wretched. Hopeless and forlorn. There was hardly a hope of me regaining full consciousness from the small and desolate area of my mind, of which I was still married with Cedric. When he was still alive. I was so enveloped in my own anguish, that I paid no mind to my own childrens' sorrow.
Harry, who'd always been a great friend in school, brought me back to my senses: was I just going to ignore the twins? I was being selfish, and I knew Cedric would have wanted me to move on – and take care of Benny and Bridget with all the strength I had. But it's arduous and tiring. I miss him dreadfully.
"Let's get dressed," I said, standing up.
Benny started screaming his head off, saying he didn't want to. Bridget and I exchanged glances, then shot off after him, tackling him from behind.
After strenuous attempts at getting Benny dressed, we were finally ready to go. I tucked my wand inside my black robes, and we were out the door. The air was chilly and serene. I grabbed the twins' hands and we strolled contentedly down the street past all the small shops. When we finally got to the Leaky Cauldron, I walked cautiously and held tighter to their hands. I knew it was an unfit place for three – year olds, but somebody has to watch over them. Today, the bartender Tom would watch them, which is why we were at the Leaky Cauldron. I was always wary on the rare occasions when they had to stay here. It just isn't right. At times like these, I yearn for Cedric more than anything.
"Good morning Charlotte, good morning," exclaimed Tom in his forever-pleasant manner.
He had chosen not to call me by Cedric's surname. I was grateful for the compassion he'd always shown to me.
"Good morning Tom," I said softly.
"We're thinking pancakes today Tom, what do you think?" He glanced thoughtfully at me and nodded.
"Three orders of pancakes, coming right up," he shouted to the back of the kitchen.
As I said goodbye to Benny and Bridget, I thanked Tom for watching over them. He was eager to spend time with them. They always had loads of fun together and that was the only thing that kept me sane while they played in that stank of whiskey and ale.
I hurried off to the Ministry hoping I wouldn't be late. When I got to the phone booth, I noticed Malfoy picking up the phone. He'd been impassive with the death of Cedric. He didn't offer condolences and he treated me coldly and harshly. I know he was a Slytherin at school, and he loathed Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors in particular, but I'd have thought he'd be over that juvenile hatred now that we're adults. The agitating voice on the other end of the phone finished and Malfoy disappeared, without seeing me at all. I treaded inside the small compartment, brushing against the damaged glass.
The bright red phone would be a futile waste of time for any muggle passing by. The precise intention of the device. I was repositioned faster than Malfoy. I stumbled out onto the marble floor, colliding into Malfoy himself. "Damn it Diggory, you dim-witted fool." He shouted at me. The contempt did not trouble me; it was Diggory that stung. I lay sprawled on the icy floor, limp with poignant memories that were overflowing faster than they had before. But why? I couldn't describe it. "You blubbering idiot, get off the floor," he retorted briskly. I scrambled to my feet, with a mix of grief and humiliation on my face. He scowled at me and stalked off. I tried to pull myself together, so that I could concentrate, but Cedric was obstructing my sensible judgment. I can't lose it. Not while Benny and Bridget are at the Leaky Cauldron. Not while Malfoy is irritated with me. Please Cedric help me endure this. Please. I regained my composure and strode out of the main hall to my office on the fifth floor. As I stepped inside the elevator, I immediately regretted it. There, situated against the brass bar on the wall was Malfoy. I sighed in disdain, instantly instantaneously hoping he wouldn't notice my presence. "Ah, the Mrs. Diggory." What a ludicrous thought. I winced at the name. "Hello Draco," I managed to blurt. He narrowed his eyes at me, but said nothing.
The elevator stops at the fifth floor, as I'd wanted it to. Malfoy follows subsequently. I'd somehow forgotten his office is near mine. "Hey Charlotte," called Hermione pleasantly. I sighed with relief; instantly, I could converse with someone with devoid of irritation. "Well then," Hermione stated. "I have a project for you Charlotte." I waited for her to tell me the objective plan. "I need you to investigate the anomalous harassments of the patients at St. Mungos. You'll need a partner, of course, so I reckon you and Malfoy can work simultaneously competently?" I stared at her; Malfoy stopped in his tracks, almost dropping the files he was grasping. "What?" She asked.
"Nothing," I whispered. Malfoy, however, had a dissimilar approach.
"I'm not working with that mudblood lover, nor am I going to take orders from a filthy mudblood herself."
"Malfoy," Hermione said, pursing her lips, "I'll have you know I'm your boss, and I'll not be spoken to in that way."
"In any case, I won't work with Diggory, Hermione." Malfoy said coldly.
"In fact, Malfoy, you most certainly will. You have no current projects in progress and that is precisely why you will be assisting Charlotte. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do." Malfoy glared intently at me for what seemed like hours. Finally I walked to my desk, fighting the urge to vomit.