Pop.

Out of thin air a young witch appeared on a grassy verge near a quiet road. She had a look on her face that said she was furious about something, though she gave no indication as to what was making her so angry. She marched purposefully through the street checking all of the numbers on the doors as she went, squinting in the light of the street lamps. It was after eleven at night and dark, and only the glow from the lamps illuminated the numbers displayed proudly on the range of front doors.

Number sixty-six. That was where Eddie told Quincy to go if she had an emergency once he had moved out of their family home. Well, this was an emergency and Quincy was damn well sure she was going to find him. She knew his parents lived in this village, and assumed the mummy's boy had moved back there to be close to them in his 'time of need'. Quincy made a 'pfft' sound with her lips and rolled her eyes at the thought of him 'needing' his parents. He wasn't the one with custody of three young kids, of which the eldest two looked at her like she was the biggest monster on earth for taking their daddy away from them. At least Charlie was too young to understand.

Sixty-two...sixty-four...sixty-six. Quincy stopped for a moment to catch her breath at the end of the path. She glared at the front door for a moment before narrowing her eyes and marching up the path to bang on the door with her fist balled up.

As a young boy, with an empty house, Edward Pratt would have taken it upon himself to enjoy this fact and make the most of it. Above the surface, things seemed to have changed. By ten o’clock, after a truly exhausting day Edward had climbed into bed and snuggle down in his boxers and Chudsley Canons duvet for the night.

31 years old and the man was back living with his parents. After being kicked out of his own home (which he’d paid for!), Edward, with little money thanks to his thieving wife, had been forced into moving into this house, returning to his bedroom and the quidditch posters of his favourite team. At least now a woman did his washing and cooked his tea without moaning. His dear old mother.

Edward was awoken abruptly by a vicious banging on the front door and he frowned, rolling over. His mum would get that. But the retched banging carried on and he soon realised he was by himself. His parents had gone on holiday. The man grunted and hauled himself out of bed, adjusting himself and blindly grabbing the nearest bit of clothing near to him, a big hoody.

Pulling that over his head as he nearly tripped over a pile of books, Eddie made his way down to the hall and opened the door, suppressing a yawn. His eyes finally adjusted and widened, seeing his ex-wife stood at the door, looking like a long wand had just been shoved up her rear end and cast an incendio charm.

“What the hell do you want, woman?”

Eddie swung the door open and stifled a yawn. There he stood in a pair of boxer shorts and a hoodie, his hair all over the place. He hadn't seriously been in bed, had he? Oh wait - what if he had been in bed with another woman? Maybe tis was his way of celebrating. Quincy tried to let her eyes wander to his side and through into the house, but she could see no evidence of panties and bras having been thrown around in a fit of furious passion.

Her eyes snapped back up to him when she remembered why she was here - and when he addressed her abruptly. Her brow furrowed in anger as she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and thrust it in his face. "Do you even know what this is? Do you?" She almost screamed - clearly having no respect for the neighbours. "It's our divorce! D-I-V-O-R-C-E!" she spelled out clearly just in case he had missed it the first time. "We," She waved her hand manically between their two bodies, "Are divorced. We are no longer married!"

Edward’s eyes widened and he stepped back into the hallway, leaning back as she tried rubbing his face in some parchment. He batted her hands away with difficulty as she was now waving the paper with such vigor. He sleepily glanced at it (or what he could see) and frowned. He didn’t need to be told what it was, he’d received his own version of it that morning. But he’d not celebrated, mourned in fact.

Then Quincy opened her mouth, he could smell alcohol on her breath. Ed could always tell whether she’d been drinking. She seemed to get aggressive and speak to him as if he was an idiot. And she shouted! He winced as she spelled out just what they’d been through. He didn’t need reminding!

 But one should congratulate her, she could spell divorce. If he hadn’t been so tired he may have clapped in applause, but all he had the energy for was to smirk. He needed to wake up….

"Are divorced. We are no longer married!"

“And you woke me…” Ed could suppress the tiredness no longer and let out a yawn, covering it with a hand that was covered by the oversized fleece. He liked baggy clothes when around the house. “Ah…to tell me that?” She had to be kidding.

“Shouldn’t you be celebratin’? It’s what you wanted.” He added before stepping to the side and reaching out to guide her into the house. He couldn’t have her shouting at him from the doorstep for much longer.

His apparent surprise at Quincy coming all the way out to Mould-on-the-Wold did little to increase her confidence. He hadn't expected her at all? That was disappointing. She had hoped that he would have been moping around in his pyjamas for days with a tub of ice cream and a giant spoon waiting for her to come and say she'd forgiven him and she'd take him back.

From the enormous yawn he could no longer stifle, Quincy would see that this was not the case. Clearly it was just she who had been moping around waiting for the impending divorce papers to make their way through her door, almost with a criticising sneer as though to say 'we told you it wouldn't last'. She'd heard divorces had a way of making you feel like that - like you were just another joke in a long line of jokes waiting their turn to play the fool. Every newly married couple thought they could turn the fool onto the system, but they always became the fool in the end.

Eddie's suggestion that she should be celebrating cut deep and she felt her knees begin to buckle. Had he just insinuated that she wanted her children to grow up in a home without their father and hating their mother? "I..." Her voice cracked and she tried to take a deep breath. He obviously didn't know just how much this was hurting her. She felt a tear spring to her eyes. Trying to blink the tears away did nothing, and gave her the opposite result to what she had hoped for - they began to fall down her cheeks. "Our children..." She said as he tried to usher her inside of the house to prevent her fromg a scene in the street.

She pushed his hand away as he reached out to her, and took a step backwards with her eyes narrowed as she cried silently. "Our children hate me." She shook her head as though in disbelief. "Noah...said he wants to live with you...Natasha cries herself to sleep every night and won't let me comfort her." She wiped the tears away from her right cheek with the sleeve pf her grey cardigan. "I thank my lucky stars every minute that Charlie isn't old enough to know what's happened...but it won't be long before..." She trailed off and broke down into sobs letting both hands cover her face in embarassment. Quincy never cried, and she hated showing this kind of emotion - this kind of weakness.

Edward stared in part horror, part shock and part pity as his wife (sorry, ex wife) started to spill her tears. After a moment, the sleepy man frowned in confusion. Why was she crying!? She’d solicited this. She’d kicked him out of the house and left him with several bruises and earache. She’d forced him to see his own children at specified times and she’d taken every penny from him to support them.

And she was crying!?

If Edward didn’t love her so much he’d have started to become very angry. The cheek of that damn woman. Ruining his life and then having the cheek, the gall, the audacity! to start crying about it. Eddie slowly grit his teeth and glanced around to make sure none of the neighbours were having a good nose.

"Our children hate me."

The man’s expression softened. She looked pained, but she was also drunk. And what did she expect when she had kicked Daddy out of the house. They didn’t get their bedtime stories anymore or him play fighting and getting them all excited before bed. He missed all that. He missed popping his head in late at night to watch them sleep. And she was surprised the kids acted differently…

"I thank my lucky stars every minute that Charlie isn't old enough to know what's happened...but it won't be long before..."

What was she getting at? Eddie was starting to get irritated now and he folded his arms over his chest. “Before what? He also realises Mummy kicked Daddy out for coming home late from the pub? What the hell do you expect, Quincy?”

And she continued crying. They couldn’t do this out here. After a moment, Edward unfolded his arms and approached his ex-wife. She tried hitting him as he got closer but with a little difficulty, he picked her up and put her over his shoulder. “You’ve come fer an argument, not to provide a bloody show to me neighbours.” But as he tried carrying her inside, she carried on hitting him.

“Quit it, woman!” Damn she had a punch. He waited a moment, holding her tight, now in the dimly lit hallway. “Calm down or yer goin’ in the pond outside.”

It almost seemed as though Eddie was pitying her. Not that she could tell through her hands, but he was silent. And usually, when Eddie wasn't talking, it was because he couldn't think of anything to say. Normally, Eddie would say something just to fill a gap of silence. He had the horrible habit of not being able to keep his mouth shut. But the fact that he managed to button his trap at that moment was a sign that he was feeling for her. And Quincy knew Eddie well - if he wasn't getting angry at her, then he was probably feeling sorry for her.

Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere and Eddie spoke. His voice was patronising and he was acting as though Quincy had brought all this on herself. She looked up at him from her hands, her bloodshot eyes straining to focus on him through the tears the were blurring her vision. "Mummy kicked daddy out for coming home late from the pub?" She almost laughed outloud. "After all this time, and you still think this is about you coming in late from the pub?" Quincy shook her head. "I can't believe I'm hearing this!" She went to turn away, but felt a strong set of arms grab her around the waist and lift her up. "Hey!" She pounded her fist on Eddie's back as she was thrown over his shoulder and told to stop struggling. The threat of being thrown in the pond was lost on her as she kept thumping away at his back. "Put me down!" She yelled as he kicked the front door closed.

Yes, Edward did still believed that this was because he’d come home late from the pub. She herself had never given him any other reason. Of course, the arguments they’d had in the build up had been getting pretty bad but he always thought they’d work through it and get back to the couple they usually were. Most married couples went through that patch didn’t they? But him coming in late had probably just made her madder and decide she wasn’t having it anymore. He’d just wanted a few hours away from the war zones that were either work of home. There was only so much a man could take.

Quincy didn’t obviously have chance to say anymore about her ‘reasons’ before she was ever so elegantly thrown over his shoulders in a highly dignified fashion and carried into the house. Ed kicked the front door shut and tried shifting her around on his shoulder, jumping her up and down slightly in an attempt to get the pummelling to cease. He pulled a face before continuing through the hallway.

Edward had threatened the pond if she didn’t calm down and he was a man bound by his word.

“I will put you down, Quince.” He said grumpily as he made his way into the living room and towards the patio doors. “It’s yer choice whether that’s on soft land or in water with the fishes.” Her persistent thumping was making him angry now and he was happy to drop her into the pond. “You don’t wanna’ be bitten by the lolabug.” He added. That was a nasty fish.

He bounced her up and down on his shoulder in an attempt to cease the banging of her fist against his back. It wasn't working and only fuelled her to bang even harder. What on earth was he playing at? This was harrassment - it would have been bad enough for a husband to do it to his wife, but an ex-husband? That was atrocious!

Eddie's mention that there was a lolabug in the pond did nothing to stem Quincy's anger at having been lifted and carried through the house and out onto the patio. She grabbed hold of some of his hair at the back of his head and yanked as hard as she could. "Put...Me...Down!" she yelled as she pulled harder and harder at the tuft of hair.

Clearly Eddie wasn't happy about this, and proceeded to lean over the side of the pond and pushe at Quincy's body. The clever thing for Quincy to do at this point would have been to stay clinging on for dear life to that tuft of hair. But no. In the shock of him actually following through with his threats, she left go and fell with a gigantic splash into the pond.

Quincy gasped for breath a little too late and got a mouthful of dirty pond water with sludge and probably a fair whack of frogspawn in it. She made her way to the surface, and as she hit the air coughed and spluttered while gagging for fresh air. "You..." she aimed at Eddie, still coughing from the inhale of water. She was shivering too due to the extremely cold surroundings. Even on a hot June day, pondwater wasn't particularly warm - or refreshing.

Apparently Quincy wasn’t a fan of being picked up against her will by her strong and devilishly handsome ex-husband. And it became evident that she liked being bounced up and down on said man’s shoulder even less. He hadn’t expected her to like it; he’d just expected the abuse being done to his back to cease. That was what usually happened when he did this to their daughter when she was having one of those terrible tantrums. It tended to shut her up. But not her mother.

“Argh!” Edward grunted as the demon viciously yanked his hair back, probably pulling some out. He hadn’t expected that one! Gritting his teeth as his head was pulled back, Edward only held onto his ex-wife tighter. He was not backing down on this one now and she was just making him angry.

"Put...Me...Down!"

Edward had finally made it to the pond after much struggle and he stepped closer, up onto the steps. “As you…” another yank and he grimaced. “…wish.” And with that, he leaned forward and pushed against her body, causing her to go tumbling into the water, arms flaying.

Her mouth opened as she went under and Eddie pulled a face. Bad idea. Then the dark haired woman once again emerged, coughing, spluttering and looking even more furious. But Eddie himself was relieved that his back now had a small chance to recover.

"You..."

“I warned ye, Babe.” He said bluntly, folding his arms. It was quite cold out here now. Especially for a man in his boxer shorts. And probably for a woman sat in freezing cold water. Damn she looked like she could quite happily kill him. He’d seen that look way too many times. Even with the death glances coming from the woman, Eddie could see that she had started to shiver and he frowned, pulling his wand from his fleece pocket and holding a hand out for her.

“Sobered up yet?” He asked; hand out to help her up.

He was a patronising pig! The way he called her 'babe' like nothing abnormal had passed between the two of them, like they hadn't just had their divorce papers through their different doors. He folded his arms stubbornly across his chest and watched her struggle against the cold of the water against her body. Then he pulled his wand out. "What?" She asked almost with a laugh. "You going to hex me too? Is it not enough that you've thrown me into freezing water?" If only their kids could have seen that. They would hate their dad for trying to hurt their mum.

Instead, he held out a hand to her. “Sobered up yet?” She blinked slightly, her wet hair hanging down the side of her face and her clothes sticking to various parts of her body, making her feel heavy under the water. Had she sobered up yet? She sighed. "A little too much, I think." She said softly as she put her hand out so that he could latch onto it and haul her out of the pond.

As she gripped his hand with hers, slippery and wet she grinned at him devillishly. She gave one almighty pull towards her with a laugh.

Freezing water? Quincy was a little over sensitive tonight wasn’t she? It was just a little chilly. Perhaps the alcohol, probably wine, had weakened her immune system. He didn’t know how much she’d been drinking recently. In control of their children. In fact, where were the children? He didn’t worry too much, she wouldn’t just leave them. Would she?

Even if Quincy did look mad with Eddie, she still looked hot. Her wet hair dripping down her face like that and the wet clothes…The sleepy auror licked his lips as he looked down at her. Even if they were divorced, he could still look. That attraction he’d always felt would never go away. He was convinced.

"A little too much, I think."

Edward, in his sleepy and still waking up state accepted this as a truce. Perhaps, however, he shouldn’t have been so quick to trust his wife and expect her to give in just like that. He did know her didn’t he? Well, Ed simply presumed he’d haul her out and then she’d talk to him properly, humbled by her experience.

He was wrong. The man let out a yell as his ex-wife gave an almighty tug which caught him off-guard and sent him tumbling into the water beside her. He two had landed in the water with his mouth open and he two took an unhealthy mouthful of the wonders the pond had to offer. He finally emerged coughing and spluttering before glaring at his wife (sorry, ex-wife).

“Bitch.” He grunted before spitting more pond water out of his mouth and into the water where it belonged.

The action had been successful as Eddie landed in the water with a gigantic splash. Quincy lifted her arm up to shield her face from the spray of water that came from his body hitting the surface of the pond. After a few moments he emerged, coughing and spluttering just as she had been only moments before.

She grinned at him as he spat dirty water out of his mouth and back into the pond. “Bitch.” he grunted at her. "That's 'ex-wife Bitch' to you." She said nonchalontly. His calling her a 'bitch' had no negative effect on her - he often called her that, just to make himself feel manly. It was almost cute that he felt the need to exercise his power every now and then. Everyone who knew them knew that Quincy really wore the trousers in their relationship.

She took off her grey cardigan, leaving a white vest underneath with lacy straps. What a predicament - in a pond with one's ex-husband, wearing a white vest. Quincy thanked the lord she had worn a bra today. Not that she often left the house without wearing one, but it would have been most unfortunate had she decided that today was the day for bearing all.

The cardigan was dripping wet, and she put it on one of the patio stones next to the pond. One less thing weighing her down. Turning back to Eddie, she smiled slightly at the water dripping down his face and his hair everywhere. Why did he have to be so good looking? And he was even better when he was wet than dry. She mentally berated herself for even thinking about her ex-husband's good looks at a time like this, and immediately a scowl graced her face.

"Now can you play nicely?" She asked, almost as a warning that whatever game he was trying to play, she would always be better at it than him.

Edward had called her a bitch because at that moment in time, he deemed she was one. In fact he’d thought that very thing for several months now. Of course he knew that she thought he’d had an affair, but poor Eddie didn’t know how else to convince her he hadn’t! Unfortunately (and it was unfortunate right then), she was the only woman for him. And he had hoped that the same was true for her. Evidently not.

"That's 'ex-wife Bitch' to you."

His eyebrows rose and the glare seemed to have faded slightly now before he spat into the water again. That taste was horrible. “Bloody good job, two.” He didn’t want her to be his ex-wife, he just had to stand his ground here. Edward Pratt was not the type to beg a paranoid woman to take him back. He was too proud. And look where that left him.

His lips parted slightly as he watched Quincy remove the cardigan and as much as Eddie willed his eyes not to, they scanned her up and down. What else was a man to do to his wife when she had just been drenched and was wearing white?! This also reminded him that he was wearing a very thick and now very uncomfortable sodden and now smelly hoody. He pulled a face, wanting to get out of the pond and dry himself off with his wand as soon as.

"Now can you play nicely?"

“That’s rich coming from you.” Eddie grumbled before moving closer to her. “Come on, let me help ye out. Unless ye wanna’ freeze to death. Then by all means, I’ll leave ye here.” The words might have sounded uncaring, but his voice said the opposite as he lifted his hands up to show he wasn’t about to do anything more to her than pick her up and lift her onto the side. Like the chivalrous wizard he was.

“Bloody good job, two.”

Quincy raised an eyebrow at him. Had he actually meant that, or was he just pissed at the fact he was standing in a pond at half eleven at night? Quincy gave an involuntary shiver as a cold breeze swept over the surface of the pond and caused ripples. She wrapped her arms around herself and let her fingers curl around her shoulders as though holding onto herself for dear life.

Quincy had just been about to suggest that perhaps they should get out of the pond and dry up, when Eddie spoke again. “Come on, let me help ye out. Unless ye wanna’ freeze to death. Then by all means, I’ll leave ye here.” Although the words he used sounded cold and distant, and as though he didn't care, his voice was warm and sounded like it used to. This was how he used to talk - they do say that in speech, what you say only accounts for 10 percent, where one's body language counts for 30 percent and tone of voice for sixty percent, or near enough. Eddie was the perfect example of this.

Quincy looked around the garden. They were free from nosy neighbours at the moment, but it couldn't be guaranteed for long. She heaved a sigh and nodded, and let him put his arms around her to help her out of the water.