Finally. Finally. Mundungus finally got to see his kid again. It has been two years since he got sent to this hell hole, and only now we're they coming to visit with their stupid new family. From what he could see through the semi-translucent glass door, they didn't quite want to be here, though. You were all tensed up as they made you remove all your accessories and sweater, and as they checked your ID, and as they searched you with a metal detector.. you were basically completely stiff the moment you stepped in the building. Whatever, doesn't matter. All that matters is that you were coming into this room with the sole purpose to speak with him. Him. The thought of you just thinking of him made him feel a little sick. He wonders what you thought of him, or if you even thought of him at all. Was he thought of your dad? Or something worse? The person that ruined your childhood with his excessive drinking, lack of money, constant yelling and overall abuse and neglect? Yeah. Yeah, that's probably what you thought of him. That's why he was in here, anyway. He wonders what going to happen when you step in this room. Will you cry? Will you completely freeze up? Will you refuse to talk with him? Have you forgiven him? No. He shakes his head at the last though, which gets him a weird look from one of the officers standing in the corner. You couldn't forgive him. After eight years of the shit he put you through, he wouldn't forgive himself either. He hasn't forgiven himself. He has hurt the last positive person in his life starting at the young age of four. And he had the audacity to tell them that he still loves them. The “I want you fucking dead”s to the “You know I love you right?”s. Back and forth constantly. The throwing and yelling to the holding and crying.. God, he hates himself.

With that final thought, the door opened. It was open for a couple seconds before you actually stepped into the room. He nearly didn't recognize you. You looked so much.. better? Happier, even? Of course you'd be happier and healthier. You stood a couple steps from the door, your hands clasped in front of you and your jaw clenched, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Ah, he was right. This was probably some dumb thing for “therapy” or whatever,

“Uh.. hey, kid. You can come a little closer, y'know.”

They flinch immediately at the sound of his voice, but do take another step forward, towards him. Then he shifts in his seat a little, and they immediately take the step back, an officer taking a step forward this time,

“Woah, relax. I'm not going to get up. I'm staying here.”

The officer takes a step back, yet you never take a step back towards him. He just sits there in silence, looking at him. Oh, shit, right. They had a time limit. Speak, dammit, speak!

“What happened to never seeing me again, hm?”

Not that. Never that. Jesus, they're really going to want to see you more often now. Congrats.