"You don't understand!" she shouted, watching his retreating form. "I can't do this alone!"

But he continued to walk, the tears pouring down his face, mixing with the raindrops pouring from the angry, grey sky. He knew he should've stayed, he should have helped her get through it, but the truth was he was too scared. He was too scared he'd look back and see the pain in her eyes and melt. He was just too scared of her and the effect she had on him. He was too scared of their relationship to look back and see her body racking with sobs.

It had been almost a year since he walked out on me. I still love him, with all my heart, but I can't help but hate him at the same time. He doesn't have worries like I do, or responsibilities like I do. He doesn't have to wake up every morning and look at a perfect little girl who would never know her father. No, all he has to worry about was who was in his bed in the morning and who he was supposed to sleep with that night.

I walked into my office, dead tired. Elizabeth had woken up five times last night, guaranteed to leave me in a stupor for the rest of the day. I have a cold, from the lack of sleep, I'm two months behind on the baby's doctor bills (even though I work two jobs), from the diapers and other things the baby needs and I'm completely fed up with doing it alone.

There have been some upsides. Ron and Hermione have been generous enough to help me furnish the flat I live in, now it actually looks liveable, while Neville and Luna had given me their son's old crib and some old toys. Both Hermione and Luna have offered to watch Lizzy while I am at work, cutting child care costs. If it hadn't been for my friends, I know my daughter would have been put in a foster home.

I sat behind my desk and sighed. Since Luna's father died, the Quibbler had gone straight to hell. The new editor, Jack Newman had completely changed the way things are done, and now I don't even feel comfortable coming to work anymore, but I need the job. Badly. I tied my tired red hair back in a sloppy knot and began to sort through my assignments.

I always get more than anyone else in the office because I'm the only woman with enough self-respect to not date my boss. I told him that with a small child, dating was out of the question. But, instead of trying to understand like a normal person, he piles on the work, making me late to see my daughter every single day.

I managed to sort the stupid notes into piles. Things to do, things I can ignore and things I must do. The last note made my stomach lurch and my palms sweat, and I knew it would have to go in the Things I Must Do pile.

My eyes watered. Even after he'd walked out on me, he still haunted my life. I can't escape him, even though he'd ran out on our life, never looking back for a split second. A tear slipped down my cheek, but I brushed it away quickly. No more crying over him. He'd taken the somewhat naïve, playful girl I had been and transformed her into a sensible, no-time-for-fun type woman. I hate him for it. He'd taken my innocence, in more ways than one, and that was one thing I couldn't ever get back.

"Weasley!"

I spun around in her chair, desperate to distract myself from my woes. It was my wonderful (note the sarcasm) boss. "Potter's at the Leaky Caldron. I told him I'd send a reporter down, and you're the first one that came to mind."

"Did you give him my name?" I asked, my heart racing. What ifs began racing through my mind, and I couldn't stop the shaking that began to plague my hands.

"No. I figured you'd want to tell him." He smiled smugly and walked away.

I felt like chucking a book at him. How dare he expect me to walk in and interview him. But I can't afford to lose this job, I don't even want to imagine what might happen to me and Lizzy if I was to lose this job.

I reapplied my makeup, changed my hair colour to blah brown and looked in the mirror. No more Ginny Weasley. I'm now Kirsten Mallory. Yes, Kirsten Mallory. It's a name I often use when dealing with people I know. It was too hard any other way. To face the people who know what my situation is and felt bad for me. I didn't want their pity, I don't need their pity. All I need is him, but he is out of the question. Forever.

After gathering the things I usually take to conduct interviews, I Apparated to the hotel. After asking the bartender and finding out where he would be, I cautiously began to make my way to the table he was waiting at. Even from behind I could tell he hadn't changed much. The same shaggy black hair I used to run my fingers through, the same tall figure I used to yearn for…

I pulled myself back to reality before I got too lost in the past by focusing on the chair opposite of him, which was occupied by a buxom blonde. No doubt his newest play thing, and I couldn't help the streak of jealousy that coursed through my veins. I managed to squash it, well almost all of it at least, and cleared my throat as I reached the table. The blonde, annoyed by the gesture, kissed him possessively on the cheek and shot me a glare. Harry hadn't seemed to notice, because he smiled at me and motioned for me to sit in the now unoccupied seat.

I sat down stiffly, laying my small briefcase on the table and pulling out a charmed tape recorder and a notepad with questions scrawled on it. I basically use the same set of questions for every interview, sometimes changing questions a bit to fit the person and situation better, but generally, they were the same so I just keep them written them on multiple pads of paper so I'm always ready.

He smiled lazily at me, his eyes roving my body. Something unidentifiable flashed in his eyes, but it was gone so fast, I wasn't even sure if it had been there in the first place. "I'm Kirsten Mallory," I told him, extending my hand.

He took it, and the minute his hand touched mine, a jolt ran through my body. He seemed to notice, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as he said, "Harry Potter. It's a pleasure."

He held onto my hand a moment longer than necessary, and suddenly, I began to feel nervous. He was still watching me, so I began the interview to escape the scrutiny of his gaze and the firm grip of his warm hand. "So, what's it like being the youngest Seeker in a century?" I almost wouldn't need to take notes because I already know the answer to this question.

He replied, "It's fun, I mean my whole life has been Quidditch since my first year at Hogwarts. It was one thing that belonged to me, one thing I was good at. Now that I think about it, the first thing I ever found out I was good at," he offered me a small smile, which I didn't return. "But it seems like everyone wants a piece of me. My coach, my trainer, the fans. Are you a fan of Quidditch?" he asked, suddenly zoning in on me. "Sorry to change the subject, but I like to know the people who interview me."

I crossed my legs nervously. "I grew up in a Quidditch oriented family," I replied while glancing over the next question. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

He sat back and studied me. "I love to travel, especially to exotic places. More specifically, the ones with beaches and oceans. What about you?"

I was caught off guard by his question. "Wha-What do you mean?" I asked stupidly, immediately regretting it.

"What do you do for fun? You aren't someone who's married to their career, are you?" he teased, leaning forward and looking into my eyes.

"I am, actually," I told him, holding my chin up proudly. "Now, back to you, rumour has it this is your last year playing. Is this true?"

He nodded. "Yes. I've decided that all I really want to do now is to settle down and maybe start a family."

I felt my anger begin to bubble over. A year ago, only one bloody year ago, he wasn't ready for a serious relationship, let alone ready to begin a family. He'd walked out on me the minute he'd found out I was pregnant, not saying anything, not sending anything, not even bothering to find out if I had delivered a boy or a girl. Now he was ready? Is this some type of sick joke? Only one bloody year later and suddenly he's mature enough to handle a family? "Oh," I replied politely, trying not to boil over. "Any romantic interests?" The question was more for my own peace of mind rather than for the magazine, but it had to be asked either way.

He gave a sort of half shrug and grinned. "The blonde I was with earlier, Cassandra Leaks, we've been dating seriously for about a year now, I'm thinking about settling with her."

My stomach dropped and even though I hadn't eaten anything, I felt sick. He wanted children by some fake blonde that he had only known for less than ayear more than my daughter? His daughter? I wanted to bolt, go home, take a potion and pretend today had never happened. I wanted to forget Harry Potter ever existed, let alone shared my bed at one time. Every kiss, every touch came rushing back with such intensity that I thought I might pass out. "I have to go," I mumbled, swiping everything into my bag. I stood and tried to smile. "It was nice meeting you."

"Are you okay?" he asked, standing as I whirled around and began to weave my way towards the doors. I was too upset to Apparate, I knew that, but knowing he was following me was driving me crazy. "Will you be all right?" he asked, cornering me in a corner. I raised my eyes to meet his, and his expression changed, his voice coming out in a shocked, hoarse whisper.

"Ginny?"