The Romance Behind Locked Doors

Image Credit: Jennae P., Kennewick, WA The author's comments: Who agrees when they read "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" That Draco Malfoy and Fleur Delacour are meant for eachother. contains spoilers! if you haven't finished reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I sat down, and glanced around. I was at the table dressed up in blue, but that didn’t change the fact that I saw a boy at the green table when I had walked in. He was blonde, and pale, and I was absolutely, uncontrollably in love. I started to walk over, but my way was cut off by a boy with a round head. Like Go away you nerd, I'm way too good for you. But this was a new school, and I couldn’t say that. Also maybe he knew who the boy at the green table was.  I took his hand, laid a kiss on it, and watched as he hit the floor. It was so easy to get rid of annoying boys when you are pretty. Then I stepped over his limp body and kept walking towards the green table, when a Durmstrang boy offered me his assistance. For the last time, I’m too pretty for a gross boy like you! But I’m nice, so I stood up strait, and thumped him hard on the forehead with my fingernail. He probably liked it I thought, knowing how dumb some people can be. One time a red haired boy actually looked at my hair! I was like “OMG DON’T LOOK AT MY HAIR!” but I didn’t say that of course. I finally reached the green table, when a tall, dark haired boy stood up. I was all ready to flip out at him when I noticed he had been sitting with the blond boy, so I took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. Most of the boys in the entire room looked jealous. The blond boy did not. Instead he sneered, and helped the boy I had just kissed back into his seat. I batted my eyelashes, flipped my hair, and strode off to the blue dressed table. I must try more means to get to that boy. The next time I saw the boy was when I put my name in the goblet of fire. I was with a bunch of friends who were all doing it too, and we were all giggling, and writing our names down, and then there he was. He was with two dumb looking oafs, but they just made his beauty stand out more. He was looking at me! I smiled, and threw my name in the goblet of fire, and strode off, dropping my phone number into his bag as I walked by.  He didn’t call, so I gave up for a while, but then my name got called to be in the triwizard tournament. I hadn’t even really wanted to be in the tournament, but all my friends were entering, so I did too. All I could think when Albus Dumbledore called my name was I need to win this, then I will be a champion, and the blond boy from the green table will have to date me! I could have whatever I wanted if I won. It was dumb, but he was all I could think about in the coming months. I knew I had to think about the upcoming first task, but I couldn’t! I didn’t know what to do, and then, when I was walking one day to where I was staying, I saw him. He was alone, and sitting on a bench, apparently doing homework. I immediately pulled out my homework, and sat down next to him. He only glanced at me, but I was almost sure I saw him blush a little. I started to study, but then I got the courage to ask him. My cheeks got hot, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Then I just cut to the chase. Why dither when we could already have a date set? So I opened my mouth and asked: “Would you like to hang out sometime, maybe Saturday?” I said hurriedly. He didn’t say anything, then: “Sure.” He said, and he strutted off, like a peacock, a hot peacock. He seemed to reconsider or something, because he turned around, and spoke. “By the way, my names Draco Malfoy” he admitted, “Pleased to meet you Miss Delacour” and with that, he walked away so fast that he was already out of sight before I noticed I was drooling. to be continued

ROBERT HOEKMAN JR.: And There Were Tears on the Floor (My Father in the Rain, pt. 4)

No one cries but Grandma. She cries at the wake after, in the church basement next to the table with the sheet cake. I tell her hang in there, Grandma, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Then I go into the bathroom and stand inside the stall. Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you … Continue reading ROBERT HOEKMAN JR.: And There Were Tears on the Floor (My Father in the Rain, pt. 4) →


Rough and sharp, her voice is filled with demons. She hides beneath her tongue, a monster dancing before you. Angry and alert, her life is emergency. She rails and hurls insults – of course it’s all your fault. You hold on tight and pray you’ll make it through her teenage years. Eliza Mimski, a retired … Continue reading ELIZA MIMSKI: Holding On →


Where is he? Take a happy memory, old, rarely visited. Imagine it as a painting, oil on canvas. See the subjects, how they laugh, smile, dance. One does not. Follow that gaze to the dark corners. Someone casts a long shadow, out of view. There he is. The Shadow Man.

ROBERT HOEKMAN JR.: See How Much It Weighs (My Father in the Rain, pt. 3)

When someone can’t show up, my uncle asks me to be a pall bearer. I carry Grandpa to the ground with five men I don’t know. Grandpa who used to snatch my nose with his thick mechanic fingers. Grandpa whose skin is like rubber. I carry him to the ground. Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you … Continue reading ROBERT HOEKMAN JR.: See How Much It Weighs (My Father in the Rain, pt. 3) →

ROBERT HOEKMAN JR.: We All Walk the Same (My Father in the Rain, pt. 2)

We take a plane to Des Moines. My uncles and cousins and my aunt are there and everyone wears suits and black dresses in the town where Grandpa was born, where the sidewalks are gray and crumbling, where the names on the headstones sound like mine. Like his. Like ours. Robert Hoekman Jr thinks you … Continue reading ROBERT HOEKMAN JR.: We All Walk the Same (My Father in the Rain, pt. 2) →