“Tell me about him?”

“What?”

“Tell me about Dad. Please?”

Genevieve looked across at her son, expression serious. The pair were sat in the open plan living area of the small 2 bedroomed flat. It was dark outside but they didn’t have blinds. The large windows were one way only; meaning that the occupants could see out, but no one could see in. Both in their PJs, mother and son were curled up on the sofa eating prawn crackers left over from their obligatory welcome home Chinese takeaway. On the coffee table sat a glass of white wine for mother, and a glass of coca cola for son. Dante had been telling her all about the last few weeks of school as they’d happily munched on special chow mein and kung po chicken. But now the topic changed significantly and Gen was struck by the forwardness of her 12-year-old.

“I’ve told you, Dante.”

“No, you told me what people said, what he was accused of. You’ve never told me about Dad. What’s he like? How did you meet?” Gen frowned sadly at her son; these were the questions every kid wanted answers to and they normally got them.

“Okay.” Gen reached forward and took her glass of wine in hand, taking a larger than usual sip before resting it on the legs that were pulled up on the cushions. “Shoot.” He deserved as much, didn’t he?

Dante evidently struggled to contain his smile and he leapt from the sofa, taking off to his bedroom. He was back a moment later with a quill, inkpot and notebook. Gen rose her eyebrows, and the kid shrugged. “Always got to be prepared. First rule of interviews.”

Despite her anxiety at the chosen topic, Gen couldn’t supress her own smile at her son’s preparedness. She wasn’t sure if the list of questions was an ode to herself or his father.

“Right, you are.”

“Okay, where did you meet? How?” Dante read from his list before dipping the tip of his quill in the ink pot.

“My fifth year, his sixth.” she paused and Dante stared her down, willing her to elaborate. He finally let out his breath when she started to speak again. “He was a chaser for Slytherin. Had a bad boy reputation and he was very charismatic. He asked me out for a Hogsmeade weekend and we hit it off from there. My parents didn’t approve, and neither did his.”

“But he was going to be an auror, wasn’t he? Why didn’t your parents like him?”

“He was a Slytherin from an old pureblood family.”

“You’re pureblood.”

“I’m Mexican. British purebloods have always had a certain reputation. They come from old money. Your father comes from old money. My parents didn’t like it.”

“But you didn’t listen to them?” Dante scribbled something in his little notepad, but kept it close, out of view of his mum.

“If I had, you wouldn’t be here, Mijo.”

Dante pulled a face and shook his head. “I don’t need to know about that mamá.”

Gen let out a laugh and put her wine glass back down on the coffee table. She twisted properly to face him, a serious but kind look in her eyes.
“Look, chiquito, I left school early to be with your father because he was incredible. He was funny and smart and kind. Whatever people say about him, whatever he is like now, that is what I remember and it is what you should know. He made me feel like I was the only person in the world.”

“That’s just silly, you’re not.”

“But he made me feel it. You’ll get it one day. Do you remember the old flat? Before we came here?”

“The one in Knockturn?”

“That’s it. We moved in there when I left Hogwarts. It was all we could afford and it was wretched when we moved in. He was so worried that I would hate it that he softened the blow with a kitten.”

“Bruce?” Dante interrupted with a grin. Bruce, the overweight grey cat was currently curled up between them on his back with his legs in the air, fast asleep.

“Bruce. Your dad hid him in a cupboard in the kitchen for me to find.”

“The one you took the door off? He had his bed in it.”

“That’s the one. He was always trying to get into it so your Dad just took the door off and put a box and a blanket in there.”

Dante glanced over the back of the sofa to the kitchen area where, in the corner, his mother had removed a cupboard door to make a bed for that same cat.

“I hope he comes home, Mamá.”

The smile his mother gave didn’t reach her eyes, Dante found it difficult to miss.
“I know you do, Mijo.”