Just went for a long ass run by myself along the edges of town. Key words
by myself. At last. Christ.
No offense Snape, I'm pretty sure we had a friendly divorce even if it (and our marriage) happened in our sleep but I'm also pretty sure you're not going to miss me sharpening my knives while you try to read any more than I'm going to miss the smell of whatever the hell it was you were brewing in that pot. Seriously, was that one of those potion things or tea? They smell exactly the same.
Everyone about as single as before or married to the right people again?