Every Friday she was there. And every time he would attend her performance. And when the night came to an end she would come join him and together, they apparated to his small shack by the beach, on a deserted Key of the Caribbean Island. He would tell her all about his week. How he enjoyed making his tea the muggle way and put ice cubes on it. How the air by the ocean smelled clean and was free of the soot that dwelled at the Capital. He would make love to her and unravel her body like a puzzle.  