“How long will you be gone?” Draco asked wistfully. His pale bangs hung into his sallow eyes as his lower lip quivered.
“Not long,” the apple gently replied. “Draco, it’s just a photo shoot.”
“I know,” Draco pouted. “But what will I do when you’re not here?”
“Draco,” sighed the apple from where it sat snugly in Draco’s palm. “You’re twenty-three years old. You’ve lived in the basement of Malfoy Manor for five years now, doing nothing but sleeping, binge-eating chocolate frogs, and watching other people’s troll videos on the internet. It’s time you set out and got a life.”
“You are my life,” breathed Draco. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I have to,” replied the apple simply. “Cedric Diggory is an old friend of mine. He dropped out of Hogwarts to pursue his dreams, and now I have to help him. He asked me to be in a photo shoot for his new modeling job, and I believe the photo studio will be using our modeling expertise for the cover of a cheesy new teen romance novel."
In a sudden burst of passion, Draco brought the apple to his lips and kissed it, hard. Both of his hands were supporting the apple, crushing it to his chapped lips; Draco wildly let his tongue explore the smooth surface of its hard green peel, as he had done so many times before. He ran one hand over the apple, cupping the other one around the perfect sphere of the fruit. His fingers brushed against the stem, his touch light and butterfly-like. They collapsed back onto Draco’s unmade bed, never breaking the kiss.
After several long moments of bliss, they broke apart. Draco was breathing in pants, his dull platinum hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.
“I’m sorry,” whispered the apple. “I love you, but I have to do this.”
It gently rolled itself out of Draco’s rigid clutches and paused at the door. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” it whispered, before rolling down the hallway, leaving Draco alone in his bed, still tangled in the bedsheets.
Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor in Diagon Alley was brightly lit, but Cedric Diggory’s presence was what really illuminated the whole shop. He smiled at the apple as soon as he saw it roll into the parlor, revealing a strip of magically whitened teeth framed by soft, full lips slathered in sparkly lip gloss.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, picking up the apple as soon as it got close enough, and kissing it lightly, leaving a smeary glob of “Stuff by Hillary Duff!” lip shimmer on the side of the fruit.
“I’ve missed you too, Cedric,” replied the apple. Cedric winked and gestured to the menu. His nails were painted a pearly sheen of pink, with stick-on gems haphazardly glued on top.
“Want anything from the menu?” he asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” the apple answered politely. Cedric shrugged and resumed eating his low-fat yogurt parfait.
“So how have you been?” the apple asked, awkwardly attempting to start a conversation.
“Brilliant!” Cedric replied enthusiastically through a mouthful of yogurt and strawberries. He swallowed and shoveled another spoonful in his mouth, patting his lips daintily with a napkin.
“I’ve got a stage name now, did you hear? Robert Pattinson. Pretty smexy name, eh?” he asked, beaming at the apple. “Anyway, I went to America, and they’re paying me billions of dollars to just stand there and look pretty in some hot new vampire movie.”