I Knew Nothing About You

I Knew Nothing About You.

The Mirror Has Two Faces.

The sound of keys opening the flat's door announced the arrival of someone. The bright light coming from the corridor showed it was a male and, from first impression, in good shape.

Harry had arrived home. He turned on the lights in the hall and went directly to the living room to start a fire in the hearth so that he could get warmer. The weather was so unusually cold for only early in November...

Now he could unfreeze his numb fingers and -

"Potter! Just what do you think you are doing?" bellowed a cold, angry voice just behind him.

Oh, just great! Now he had to deal with Malfoy and his annoying drawl telling him off.

"I'm washing my clothes in the water-closet...! What do you think I'm doing?" he turned to better glare at him. Stupid git just wouldn't leave him alone...

"I think," Malfoy started, voice shaking with suppressed anger, "that you are ruining my Turkish tapestry that my mother, oh so graciously, left me. And," he blinked, squinting at something in the direction of Harry's feet, seemingly shocked at yet another thing. "You are wearing your boots in here?! After I told you - how many times has it been? I've lost count... Anyway, I told you more than once, Potter, are you daft or something? Because, really, you seem unable to comprehend the fact that we are not to walk in here with boots, shoes, trainers and whatever you feel like. We are to walk with socks or with bare feet because this is a fragile kind of Oriental rug and..."

Harry tuned him out. For God's sake, how many times was he going to have to listen to Malfoy's drill?

Stupid git just couldn't let it go. No! He had to tell Harry off any time he could.

And it was all Malfoy's fault. If he hadn't decided to become an Auror just so he could antagonize Harry, they wouldn't be forced to live under the same roof. The problem was, he had become an Auror, and a good one at that, even if it was hard for Harry to admit it. Wasn't it just ironic that one of the best Aurors was also the one that represented all the bad things in Harry's adolescence?

Okay, so Harry was being a little melodramatic but aside from Voldemort, Malfoy was the worst person he had ever met. Well, maybe he was once again exaggerating. After all, Malfoy was under Voldemort, all the Death Eaters and Snape on Harry's black list. But right now, no matter what anyone said, Malfoy was the worst nightmare that could have happened to him.

It had been two years since he had last seen the pale boy. Harry had been held back in St. Mungo's after his last confrontation with Voldemort for medical cares, therefore resulting in his late start on his job.

They had both begun Auror careers at the same time. The black-haired boy, without knowing what else he could do to help everyone but to fight the Dark Lord and his minions, opted for the job that would prepare him better for the task. But Malfoy!

Malfoy had chosen to become an Auror for no apparent reason other than to annoy Harry and shock the whole wizarding community. He had turned up at the first day of training smirking and chin tipped up as if no one should question his abnormal appearance there. As if he had the right to spoil anything and everything Harry had. And Harry was sure Malfoy had only showed up because of the prospect of competing with him. The insufferable bastard!

He had smirked and graciously glided his way throughout the instructor's explanation and when it was time for the exercise they were supposed to do, the stupid prat showered the instructor with one of his many excuses and announced that he couldn't stay anymore but that he would come back the next day. As always, being the manipulative sod that he was, Malfoy had had his way once more and escaped class before anyone could say 'apparation'.

And the rest of the training had been the same. Malfoy would come, ignore Harry, smirk at everyone - and really, Harry still couldn't understand what the girls that trained with them found so fascinating about that skinny albino freak... And, right before the instructor started the exercises, he would give some other excuse and flee from the scene.

That hadn't been the worst of this predicament. The day they left school was the day they were assigned partners. And wasn't Harry just lucky that he had gotten the egocentric meddlesome brat as his partner? Oh no, and that wasn't yet the worst of everything... They were to share the same house and work together. In almost everything!

What was this world coming to when Harry Potter was supposed to protect and be protected by Draco Malfoy?

"And then I was thinking that you might like to wear your underwear to Granger and Weasel's wedding -"

"What?!" What was Malfoy going on about now?

"Oh," Malfoy blinked and his expression was slightly mock-surprised, as if he couldn't understand something and was mildly amused by it. "You were listening? For a while there I could've sworn you weren't..." he trailed off in a wondering tone.

If Malfoy was thinking Harry would pay attention to every little oh so precious and divine word he uttered, he was downright mistaken.

Harry looked over to find Malfoy with the little corners of that spiteful and hated mouth upturned and staring back at him with eyes alight with amusement.

"Are you quite finished ranting to yourself mentally?" Malfoy was so infuriating whenever he got that expression. "I would like to go to my bedroom knowing that you've cleaned the mess you made."

Oh, and that condescending tone he used every and any time Harry messed things up. Harry couldn't decide what was worse: the Malfoy of his adolescence, who would laugh and taunt him for the stupid, stupid mistakes he made or the Malfoy of now, who patronized him and had that amused snicker that grated so badly on his nerves.

He glared at Malfoy. He would have preferred it if he hadn't ever had to decide. If Malfoy could do the world the greatest favor of just disappearing...

He was obviously still waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from Harry. Sometimes he was still so much the annoying brat from Hogwarts that Harry felt like throttling him. Surely, no one was going to blame him for doing the world a much needed favor.

Right?

Wrong.

Well, you couldn't have everything. But Harry could always dream. Someone might just hear his prayers...

"Are you still here or have you gone back to the planet you came from, Potter?"

"Unfortunately, I'm still here. With you." Harry's upper lip curled. "Why?"

"Well," he started airily, turning on his heels and starting in the direction of the bedrooms, "I just wanted to advise you that cleaning up the mess you made on the tapestry and on the floor today is better than leaving everything the way it is, you know." He threw a glance at Harry just so his words would cause a bigger effect. "After all, I don't think waking up to a bed full of ice is a good way to start a day." Reaching his door, he turned slightly and looked Harry up and down. "But knowing you, you might even enjoy it." And with that, he went inside without giving Harry the chance of properly retorting.

Great! Now, not only would he get wet, he was going to be even more tired than before. What a wonderful partner to have.

*

Hmm... What a good smell...

Harry was slowly waking up to a wonderful and delicious scent. It was the smell that always drifted in every first Saturday of each month. This happened since they had moved together and the first time, Harry had almost had a heart attack when he realised the smell was coming from his kitchen in his house and the one responsible for such a heavenly scent was probably Satan's nephew. Popularly known as Draco Malfoy.

Now, he just grudgingly enjoyed it mutely because, from his past experiences, he knew that if Malfoy ever got wind of the pleasure Harry got out of his cooking techniques, he would stop baking the sweets Harry never savoured but which he could just imagine enjoying. The delightful flavour it probably had... he was salivating from just imagining it.

It seemed every first Saturday of each month was obviously a special day for Malfoy. Oh right, today was the day Pansy visited them. Actually, she visited Malfoy, as she didn't even ever acknowledge Harry's presence. Not even so much as a nod.

Well, Harry was better off without it anyway.

I don't think I'm getting up right now, Harry thought while stretching. If I stay here a few more minutes, I might not have to face either of them. They might even forget I'm in here.

In a few minutes, the bell would ring announcing the arrival of everyone's worst female nightmare. And -

She was obviously earlier than ever and maybe a little too frantic for too early on a Saturday.

"...but I thought you were coming later..."

"...sorry... at this time... things... complicated now..."

"...to my bedroom... safer from curious eavesdroppers... baked a cake... breakfast?"

"...love to... time for eating... shame..."

The footsteps that had been getting closer were now growing fainter.

This is certainly asking for some attention... After all, Harry concluded with delight, if Pansy was in such a hurry to get away from her house and meet Malfoy, there must be something really earth-shaking coming up.

Harry would just have to investigate.

*

This is not eavesdropping, Harry theorized, not if I'm using a spell to hear their conversation. Besides, Malfoy and Pansy together is not a good thing. Someone needs to watch over them.

They were at least five minutes already in there and nothing important was coming up. Certain people should just cut to the chase. Idle talk from Pansy Parkinson was most certainly a bad way to die of boredom.

"This cake is delicious, Draco." Some people just had to make Harry's life that little bit harder. Even unconsciously. Today was not his day; not if Pansy was going to keep going on about how Malfoy's food was so heavenly and perfect when Harry was obviously so hungry. "You could certainly gain some money from all the sweets you make."

"You know I only cook for the ones specials to me," Malfoy's voice was different; lighter, relaxed. He was probably lying in bed, posing for Pansy.

"Oh." Pansy Parkinson hesitating?

She must be blushing, Harry realised. If he could just have a peek at her face at this moment... He would have the time of his life.

"Are you going to meet her today, Draco?"

The room got so silent Harry thought he was starting to hear Malfoy and Pansy's breath through the door.

After a pause that seemed like a whole eternity, Malfoy declared slowly, as if thinking over each word a hundred times, "I am. You know I am." Someone sighed, but Harry wasn't sure who precisely. "I presume you want to come with me."

It was not a question or an invitation.

"Yes," Pansy replied, and it was so distressed Harry had to wonder why this worried Pansy so much.

"You know it's dangerous, Pansy," he said seriously and tiredly, and Harry once again wondered where all this frustration and stress came from.

Another sigh. "I know. But Draco, I haven't seen her for such a long time... I know she doesn't like me much but I love her. As if she were mine."

"You said they were starting to suspect something was wrong with you. You had to come here earlier so that you wouldn't be questioned at your destination. And you've said the last three times we all went out that you couldn't come, Pansy. The times we have to relax and just be ourselves. To enjoy each other's company," Malfoy's voice was heating up and he sounded almost like he did whenever Harry left his bath towel on Malfoy's favorite armchair: affronted. "Do you remember what is to have fun, to enjoy your friends' company? Do you? Tell me, Pansy, because if you can't, I'll help you. I promise I will," he ended hushedly.

What were they talking about?

"That's why I don't tell you everything that happens there!" She sounded more affronted than Malfoy and she was slightly defensive. "You get all protective, Draco. I'm not a baby!"

"I'm not saying you're a baby, Pansy. I'm saying that I care about you. That I worry about you. That I love you," he finished in a yet another sigh.

"Oh, Draco," she said in a whispered exclamation and there was the rustle of feet and clothes.

"Now that you've got that declaration out of me that you wanted so much, you can tell me everything. Why you are being watched. Why you can't come with us when we go out. And why you are feeling so touchy all of the sudden."

"Not today, Draco," she pleaded, "you can take me with you and I assure you I'll have lots of fun. After all, she is the most adorable thing in this world." Her voice was teasing and it seemed to Harry like she was smiling. If that was possible to imagine and not die from a heart attack.

"Oh," Malfoy sounded disgusted, "why do you keep saying these sugary things about her? She's not a sweet shop, you know...?"

*

Malfoy was a vile person. That, no one doubted. But when you add one Pansy Parkinson to the story, things might get pretty ugly. Especially when they were together and had those satisfied smirks, just like the ones they were wearing right now.

I'm just going to make sure that whomever Malfoy is meeting will be in perfect health when they leave, Harry was rationalizing about the situation, after all, I am a fully trained Auror. And a good one at that. I'm here to protect people. And, he concluded finally, people should be protected from Malfoy. He's a danger to all humans - no wait, to all kinds of living beings on this planet.

Harry was now following Malfoy and Pansy down the street they were walking along. He was under the Invisibility Cloak but that didn't prove as effective as it did while he was a student at Hogwarts. Mostly because when he wore it, night had already approached and only the bravest and the most desperate kids would dare to walk through the corridors. But now being daylight and in the Muggle world, it seemed harder not to knock into the people passing by than following the couple's track.

He had almost knocked over an old lady and had been this close to being trampled by an extremely off-putting pink car. All for the sake of some unknown and unnamed woman.

Well, you only get the prize when the job is totally finished, he philosophized, smirking slightly at his own wise conclusion.

The couple was strolling three feet ahead of Harry and Pansy had a possessive hand holding Malfoy's left wrist. She was giggling over some stupid thing Malfoy had just said.

Harry was already getting tired. They had been walking for over thirty minutes and it was a windy, cold day and Harry was feeling chills crawling up and down his spine. His fingers were numb and didn't feel at all connected with his hand and the cold was seeping into the cloak. He was this close to giving up on this stupid mission. Certainly Malfoy was not going to injure anyone in broad daylight, in the middle of a street full of Muggles...

Right?

He would just see where they were heading so that his conscience could be appeased.

Walking faster, Harry could almost hear their conversation as if he were by their side.

"She's the sweetest girl I have ever seen!"

"Pansy dear, I don't see her being sweet to you," Malfoy commented with a light frown in his fair brows. "If anything, she's rude and acts extremely spoiled when you are with me. But, when it's only me, she behaves as the young lady Ben and Annie taught her to be. I really don't know what overcomes her and changes her whole attitude..."

Pansy glanced amusedly at Draco, shook her head slightly and finally asked, "You really don't know, do you?"

He glared at her and snapped, "You know that if I knew, I wouldn't be asking you right now."

Her eyes were lighting up at the prospect of teasing Malfoy so mercilessly and she had a full grin playing on her lips. "Oh Draco," she exclaimed in a honeyed voice that sounded distinctly too salty to Harry, "you can be so oblivious sometimes..." And with that, she shook her head once again, smiling wryly.

This only seemed to increase Malfoy's glare.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he huffed bad-temperedly.

"Oh, you don't?" she questioned rhetorically. "Well, I suppose I could always refresh your memory," she declared gleesomely.

The widening of the blond's eyes and the look of utter horror was something Harry would forever cherish.

"We're almost there," Malfoy informed in an annoyed, constricted voice. "Would you mind hurrying up?" And with that, he started to walk faster.

"Oooh," she cooed in delight, having to rush after him. "I didn't know that ickle Draco would squirm and pout just because of the idea of mentioning -"

Malfoy seized her arm and turned the corner of the street.

"Don't even think about saying it, Pansy," he threatened through gritted-teeth. "Or else I might forget that we grew up together and that we are in a street full of Muggles and," he shot her an even more furious glare, "I will rid this world of your annoying self. I swear I will."

She brushed the threat off, not bothered at all by it.

"Draco, you are so not fun when you are angry," she stated complacently. "I think I like you better when your mouth's shut." She finished wonderingly and glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to suppress her snickers.

He just sneered at her and walked forward.

"Draco," Pansy cried, "wait for me!"

Harry couldn't agree more with both of them.

*

Slytherins were unreliable.

It was because of that fact that Harry Potter was following Pansy Parkinson and that devil reincarnated, Draco Malfoy.

The couple had, apparently, arrived wherever they were expected and were now walking through a big, green garden and Harry could see that, farther away, there was a white, wooden house with a bicycle near the front door.

"...I'm sorry, Draco, I really didn't want to pick on you like that."

"Didn't look like it," Malfoy retorted, sounding wounded. "You certainly had lots of amused things to laugh at, then. You couldn't stop yourself from snickering..."

"Draco, please, wait up for me," Pansy whined. "I don't have legs as long as yours..."

Malfoy... Long legs? Harry eyed critically the so-called long legs clad in, surprisingly, Muggle trousers. Well, someone as short as Pansy Parkinson would really see those skinny legs as long.

They had reached this peculiar house that Harry was automatically fond of. It was small and simple and beautiful. The home Harry had dreamed of when a teenager and which he could never imagine buying and having a calm and solid life there for he would never, ever share it with the hideous, awful, irritating Malfoy.

The door was red and so bright; it was a fitting contrast.

"Ring the doorbell, Pansy," Malfoy started tiredly, "and I might think of letting your lapse of intelligence pass."

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, but seeing she would get nowhere arguing with him, she did as he had told.

The door seemed old but with the obvious new paint on it, it gave off an air of something royalty would own. It was different, delicately carved and beautiful.

It opened suddenly, allowing Harry to peek around it and giving him a glimpse of a small body.

A body of a tiny, approximately six year-old girl with very light brown hair, a pale, slightly pointy face, small pink mouth, upturned nose and unbelievably huge, beautiful clear eyes.

She blinked, her long eyelashes brushing her lightly freckled cheeks. The glowing and sunny smile of the little girl died, turning into a mix of a scowl and a pout and she crossly commented after spotting Pansy, "Ah. It's only you."

Harry smirked. At least someone saw his point entirely. If only the girl would make one of those faces for Mal-

Hold on a second, he blinked. The blond was nowhere to be seen. He must have had somewhere else to go. He had disappeared without awakening any of Harry's good Auror sense. That bloke sure needed more close watching. What with being the slippy snake he was...

"Ivi, what kind of behaviour is that?" An old lady came from the living room and positioned herself right behind the small girl.

The girl's pout deepened. "But, granny, it's only aunt Pans -"

Harry choked. Aunt Pans?

"Your grandmother is right, Ivi," interrupted an old man, obviously the husband, touching a wrinkled hand to the old woman's shoulder and looking down at his granddaughter.

"But, I don't like her..." she whined.

"Yes, so have you said," confirmed the grandmother condescendingly. "However, she's your godmother and your father's best friend." The girl's face was rid of the pout and was now sporting a deep scowl and a curious curl of lip. Harry could swear he had seen it before on someone else's face. "Besides, you are seven years old. You are not a small child to be excused for a behaviour such as this one." It was said firmly and calmly and seemed to have a positive effect on the girl's countenance. She straightened her back, lifted her chin and gave a charming smile to Pansy.

"I'm sorry, aunt Pans, I was being childish," Ivi, which Harry was sure was the name of the little girl, apologized graciously and with the same air of a royal princess. "Do forgive me. It was a horrible lapse of mine and I wish you could forget it," and with that, she bowed with a flourish.

Pansy laughed heartily. "It looks like you have gotten your father's liking for dramatics."

The little girl was controlling herself pretty well but Harry could see the smallest roll of her eyes.

"Why don't you come in?" invited Ivi's grandmother pleasantly.

"Oh, Annie," started Pansy, "I'm sure I would immensely enjoy spending some time in yours and Ben's company." She smiled falsely at the old couple. "Unfortunately, I fear I will have to refuse your hospitality for Ivi is clearly missing her father a lot and he asked me to take her to the place where we're spending our day together."

Before either of her grandparents could open their mouth, Ivi questioned in a sneering tone, "You are going to spend the day with us?"

That didn't deter any of Pansy's annoying enthusiasm. Poor kid, this Ivi girl.

"Of course I am, Ivi. Even though you may not like me, I like you." Harry hardly believed any of her words. "And, since I haven't seen you in almost two months, I th - I mean, your father and I thought it would be good if I tagged along with you both. He said it would be fun."

The girl made a face and murmured very low so that only Harry heard, "This woman should revise her own concept of fun."

Someone should really watch out for that girl's vocabulary.

*

"Your hand is clammy," Ivi complained, trying to free her small, pale hand from Pansy's steel grip.

Pansy smiled. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to deal with it. I could not bear it if you were to be knocked down by a car."

The not-yet-a-woman turned her face away and profusely rolled her eyes.

Poor girl, Harry mused, having to spend time with someone so horrible must be awful.

Not that Harry didn't share the experience. Life with Malfoy certainly proved that not all bad things come for the good.

"We're almost there."

At this, the girl's face took the same expression it had the moment she opened the red door and Harry couldn't help but find it the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

Which didn't say much since he had no love - actually, no personal life. How could he, with Malfoy under the same roof as his?

"Daddy!" Ivi squealed, hurrying to embrace a blond man from the back.

It was obvious that they had planed to have a picnic in the pleasant and almost deserted park.

"I see you got here without much trouble," the man drawled, and Harry would have recognized it even without seeing the man's pointy, angular face.

Malfoy.

What an irony that that adorable creature was actually Malfoy's whelp. And didn't that surprise Harry?

"Oh, Draco. As if you don't know her." Pansy smiled, lifting one eyebrow. She, afterward, added sweetly: "She was complaining the whole way here."

Ivi trembled with fury and the blond maneuvered her into his lap.

"Is that true, young lady?" He frowned down at her and curled his bottom lip slightly.

Ivi squirmed, furtively trying to escape the inquiry.

"I did no such thing!" she exclaimed rebelliously. "I merely informed her she was crushing my small, delicate, poor hand and that I would further, in a not so far away future, need it. It's not my fault she can't distinguish a complaint from an innocent request."

"Oh, really?" Malfoy retorted, amused at his daughter's acting.

Pansy just kept hiding her grin from Ivi.

The blond leveled a look of contemptuous wonder at Pansy and said in his most condescending tone, "Well, Pansy. See? It was your fault. You shouldn't have annoyed her so much with your unwanted touch."

Yet another scowl made by Ivi, followed soon by a weak punch at Malfoy's chest.

"Don't patronize me, dad. And don't you dare mock me this way again." The same smug face Malfoy did was clearly inherited by the brown-haired girl. "Or else I may have some things to declare to aunt Pans."

This seemed to catch the older woman's attention and with a blink, she was seated on the cloth laid in front of Malfoy.

Does this woman have no shame? Or dignity? Harry thought incredulously.

"Oooh," she cooed. "Don't let this stop you, Ivi. Your aunt Pans here loves a bit of gossip."

The same lift of eyebrow and the same sneer of her father's was plastered on the once beautiful girl.

"Daddy," she began, turning around to look at her father. "Are you sure I have to spend time in her company?"

The tone had been calm and quiet, as if she was asking for a toy seen at some wizard shop that was wanted immensely by her and only when she had mentioned Pansy's name did her lip curl and her nose crunch up.

Why do children always inherit their parent's worst characteristics and habits?

The blond seemed to consider her request.

"Ivi dear, sweetheart, pumpkin." He was outright mocking her again. Harry already knew what to expect of this girl's future. "Do you want Blaise to come, instead of Pansy?"

It was Ivi's time to ponder her options.

"Hmm... Couldn't it be just the two of us?" She touched her finger to her upper lip. Yet another habit of Malfoy's.

"I've told you once, dear. It would call too much attention if we were to be just by ourselves."

And did he suppose that Zabini and himself together did not call enough attention?

Besides, what was all this worry with the oddness of Malfoy and his spoiled whelp having an innocent walk through the woods? The girl sure was already weird enough all by herself.

"Then fine," she pouted. "I think I can endure aunt Pans' presence for some time more."

Pansy and Malfoy shared a significant look and suppressed their snickers.

Getting hold of himself, the blond questioned: "Why, Ivi? Don't you like the godfather I chose for you?"

The dark-haired female scoffed. "Do you object to her choice, Draco Malfoy?"

The only visible male felt the danger oozing thickly from Pansy and hastily tried to mend everything:

"No, Pansy, honey, my beloved friend, the sun of my Earth, the water of my oasis. I did not object to anything. I was merely asking Ivi what she had against our dear friend Blaise."

The woman huffed. "I should think so."

Ivi watched everything curiously amused and with the sweet smile all kids have. It was so strange for Harry to see such an innocent, normal smile like that in a face so resembling Malfoy's.

The blond turned to his daughter and asked again the reason behind her dislike.

She took on a pensive expression and drawled slowly, testing her own words. "It's not that I don't like uncle B." Harry had to suppress his snickers at this moment. Uncle B? "The thing is that whenever he's with us, he tries to rob your attention from me." That same curl of lip again and another mild scowl. "I don't like that."

Looking over at Pansy, Harry saw an expression he never thought would be present there: understanding.

"Ivi, my heart," Pansy started in a voice Harry wouldn't have ever imagine she possessed. "Nobody is going to take your father away from you. Not me, not Blaise; no one. You don't have to worry."

Her own father took over. "My beautiful daughter, don't you know that I hold you dearer than anyone else?" His eyes were clear silver and his voice sounded very soft. His face was slightly less angular and ugly. The air surrounding him was calming and felt almost inviting to Harry. "You will always be my little girl; even when you wish you weren't." When she started to protest, he kept on, ignoring her open mouth. "Yes, someday you'll hate me and wish I was swallowed by the floor. That's called adolescence and only Merlin knows how much I pray for it to arrive late and pass fast." He then whispered to her intent, serious, hungry face: "And no matter what you say, you are the best thing that ever happened in my life. You -" he closed his eyes and looked away. Away from Ivi, away from Pansy, away from Harry.

Pansy brushed her knuckles against Malfoy's cheek, making the slightest contact possible. Harry saw him flinching even so.

It was so strange seeing this side of Malfoy.

This was the same brat of his adolescence. The same man who shared the same roof with him.

Harry was confused. It had been already hard to connect the same younger, spoiled face with the witty, sarcastic one he wore now when they met again after two years. This Malfoy was not witty, nor petty, nor anything Harry had assumed he was. This Malfoy was melancholic, sad and worn-out. This Mal -

Harry blinked, realizing one thing he had overlooked. This was not Malfoy, the Malfoy heir, prestigious Auror, cool gentleman. This was Draco. Friend, father, man.

Harry stared down at him.

So. You are human after all.

It was a scary thought and Harry could not stop thinking about the fair head bowed and the way Pansy's eyes worriedly traveled over his face.

A sudden thought worked its way into his dismayed mind:

How can I look at him the same way now?