"On a night just like tonight
Below my window pussies fight
I'm gonna be so far away
Exactly like you are today
You must have thought you really scored
'Cause we're the Angel and the Jerk
You know I love to be ignored
Just take for granted all my work" - Green Day, 'The Angel and the Jerk'.
*
It's raining again. It always seems to be raining. I don't think it's stopped since the end of the war. At least, that's what it seems like to me. Day after dreary day it rains, and day after dreary day I sit at the window, watching the water running down the window, and mentally placing bets on which raindrop will reach the bottom first.
It's been almost a year since the end of the war, and almost two years since we left school. We've been on the run since the war ended. The good side won, of course, although Dumbledore was killed. A lot of people were killed - Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Marcus Flint, Macmillan, Boot, Fawcett, one of the Patil twins, and Percy Weasley, Argus Filch and, to my great sorrow, Severus Snape. He was tried and tortured by Voldemort for being a traitor.
I was actually saddened when I heard of the death of Percy Weasley. I know I continually took the piss out of the Weasleys, but then again I had a reputation to uphold - my father's, admittedly, but I had no choice. I was never allowed to have one for myself.
And I'm still not. Blaise claims to love me, but all he wants to do is control me. Everywhere I go, he has to come too. It's not like we actually go out in public much - we, or, rather, Blaise, doesn't want to be detected by the Ministry of Magic, but it would be nice to get some peace once in a while.
We've been hiding out in Muggle London since the end of the war. And it's me who has the job, working almost every day to ensure we have enough money for rent and food. We both have vast amounts of money in the wizarding world, but neither of us wants to risk capture by going to Gringotts and changing some of our money for Muggle money.
The door slammed open, jerking me out of my reverie. Blaise tramped in and flung himself onto the big armchair. I smiled at him; he ignored me, so I went back to staring out of the window.
We're a couple, but he doesn't really love me. To tell you the truth, I don't really love him, but I have no-one else. He ignores me most of the time, unless it's to complain that I haven't washed up a glass, or of course it's time for bed. I do all the work around the house before I go to work, and I even help him write up his reports for my father when I get home - well, I say help, but it's mostly me doing all the work. He calls me his angel. I wish I could say the same thing about him, but he's such a jerk.
It's getting dark, and just below the window a cat starts wailing, looking for a mate. It sounds horrible, and oddly, just like I'm feeling inside. I have to leave Blaise. But where can I go? It's not as if I've got any friends, and since the Dark Lord's defeat all the Death Eaters have gone into hiding. I don't know where my father is, and I don't think he'd want me around anyway, after I saved Potter's life.
Potter. He's good and kind, the typical Gryffindor golden boy. But I doubt very much whether he'd like me turning up on his doorstep. "Hello, we've hated each other for nine years but I really don't like my life, so can I live with you, please?" Yeah, right. I'd get hexed into the middle of next week.
I still don't know why I saved him. Blaise beat me black and blue for it, and I still couldn't explain, even to myself. I've always admired Potter. He's everything I always wanted to be but wasn't allowed to.
"Where's my dinner, Draco?" demanded Blaise. I sighed.
"I haven't done it yet."
"Well, hurry up, I'm starving!"
"Give me a break!"
"Well, if you didn't keep staring out of that bloody window."
"Look, I got in literally about five minutes before you did and sat down for a moment. I've been on my feet all day trying to please all those posh Muggles, I'm entitled to a little rest."
"All right, you can have another minute, but if dinner's not done by seven I'll give you such a good hiding!"
I sighed and made my way towards the kitchen. I'm going to have to go, and by the gods, he'll miss me when I'm gone!
The front doorbell rang. I put the pans down and ran to the front door just as Blaise bellowed, "Draco! Door!"
Standing there was one of my friends from work, Andrew. I began to panic; Blaise didn't allow me to have friends over.
"Andrew, what are you doing here? I told you Blaise doesn't like visitors."
"Well Blaise can shove it," he replied, stepping past me and walking into the living room. I scuttled in after him, and began to move into the kitchen. Blaise caught my arm as I walked past.
"Who the hell is that?" he demanded.
"That's Andrew from work."
"I told you."
"I know, love, I tried to tell." I winced as his grip got tighter. "Blaise, love, you're hurting me!"
"We'll talk about this later," he hissed, letting go of my arm. I ran through into the kitchen. Andrew followed, looking concerned.
"Are you alright, Dray?" he asked. I nodded.
"It's nothing. I can handle it. I've put up with it for the last two years."
"You shouldn't have to put up with it. Why don't you leave him? He obviously doesn't care about you."
"I have nowhere to go, Drew, or I'd be gone in a second."
"Bloody hell, you said it was bad, but." Andrew broke off and bit his lip. "Tell you what, you can stay with me. It's been kind of lonely since my girlfriend left, and I'll be glad of the company. We'll give him his dinner, and then pack up some of your things and go, how about it?" Relief, glorious relief, spread through me, and I gave Andrew a big hug.
"Thank you!"
"It's nothing. He shouldn't treat you like that. You deserve better. Tell you what, I'll get started on the packing now, yeah?"
"Yeah." Andrew moved out of the kitchen and I started on dinner, my heart feeling lighter than it had since before the war. I smiled. Blaise was going to have to find his way on his own. I started to laugh, and sung under my breath:
"You're gonna miss me miss me when I'm gone."
*
It's raining again. It always seems to be raining. I don't think it's stopped since the end of the war. At least, that's what it seems like to me. Day after dreary day it rains, and day after dreary day I sit at the window, watching the water running down the window, and mentally placing bets on which raindrop will reach the bottom first.
It's been almost a year since the end of the war, and almost two years since we left school. We've been on the run since the war ended. The good side won, of course, although Dumbledore was killed. A lot of people were killed - Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Marcus Flint, Macmillan, Boot, Fawcett, one of the Patil twins, and Percy Weasley, Argus Filch and, to my great sorrow, Severus Snape. He was tried and tortured by Voldemort for being a traitor.
I was actually saddened when I heard of the death of Percy Weasley. I know I continually took the piss out of the Weasleys, but then again I had a reputation to uphold - my father's, admittedly, but I had no choice. I was never allowed to have one for myself.
And I'm still not. Blaise claims to love me, but all he wants to do is control me. Everywhere I go, he has to come too. It's not like we actually go out in public much - we, or, rather, Blaise, doesn't want to be detected by the Ministry of Magic, but it would be nice to get some peace once in a while.
We've been hiding out in Muggle London since the end of the war. And it's me who has the job, working almost every day to ensure we have enough money for rent and food. We both have vast amounts of money in the wizarding world, but neither of us wants to risk capture by going to Gringotts and changing some of our money for Muggle money.
The door slammed open, jerking me out of my reverie. Blaise tramped in and flung himself onto the big armchair. I smiled at him; he ignored me, so I went back to staring out of the window.
We're a couple, but he doesn't really love me. To tell you the truth, I don't really love him, but I have no-one else. He ignores me most of the time, unless it's to complain that I haven't washed up a glass, or of course it's time for bed. I do all the work around the house before I go to work, and I even help him write up his reports for my father when I get home - well, I say help, but it's mostly me doing all the work. He calls me his angel. I wish I could say the same thing about him, but he's such a jerk.
It's getting dark, and just below the window a cat starts wailing, looking for a mate. It sounds horrible, and oddly, just like I'm feeling inside. I have to leave Blaise. But where can I go? It's not as if I've got any friends, and since the Dark Lord's defeat all the Death Eaters have gone into hiding. I don't know where my father is, and I don't think he'd want me around anyway, after I saved Potter's life.
Potter. He's good and kind, the typical Gryffindor golden boy. But I doubt very much whether he'd like me turning up on his doorstep. "Hello, we've hated each other for nine years but I really don't like my life, so can I live with you, please?" Yeah, right. I'd get hexed into the middle of next week.
I still don't know why I saved him. Blaise beat me black and blue for it, and I still couldn't explain, even to myself. I've always admired Potter. He's everything I always wanted to be but wasn't allowed to.
"Where's my dinner, Draco?" demanded Blaise. I sighed.
"I haven't done it yet."
"Well, hurry up, I'm starving!"
"Give me a break!"
"Well, if you didn't keep staring out of that bloody window."
"Look, I got in literally about five minutes before you did and sat down for a moment. I've been on my feet all day trying to please all those posh Muggles, I'm entitled to a little rest."
"All right, you can have another minute, but if dinner's not done by seven I'll give you such a good hiding!"
I sighed and made my way towards the kitchen. I'm going to have to go, and by the gods, he'll miss me when I'm gone!
The front doorbell rang. I put the pans down and ran to the front door just as Blaise bellowed, "Draco! Door!"
Standing there was one of my friends from work, Andrew. I began to panic; Blaise didn't allow me to have friends over.
"Andrew, what are you doing here? I told you Blaise doesn't like visitors."
"Well Blaise can shove it," he replied, stepping past me and walking into the living room. I scuttled in after him, and began to move into the kitchen. Blaise caught my arm as I walked past.
"Who the hell is that?" he demanded.
"That's Andrew from work."
"I told you."
"I know, love, I tried to tell." I winced as his grip got tighter. "Blaise, love, you're hurting me!"
"We'll talk about this later," he hissed, letting go of my arm. I ran through into the kitchen. Andrew followed, looking concerned.
"Are you alright, Dray?" he asked. I nodded.
"It's nothing. I can handle it. I've put up with it for the last two years."
"You shouldn't have to put up with it. Why don't you leave him? He obviously doesn't care about you."
"I have nowhere to go, Drew, or I'd be gone in a second."
"Bloody hell, you said it was bad, but." Andrew broke off and bit his lip. "Tell you what, you can stay with me. It's been kind of lonely since my girlfriend left, and I'll be glad of the company. We'll give him his dinner, and then pack up some of your things and go, how about it?" Relief, glorious relief, spread through me, and I gave Andrew a big hug.
"Thank you!"
"It's nothing. He shouldn't treat you like that. You deserve better. Tell you what, I'll get started on the packing now, yeah?"
"Yeah." Andrew moved out of the kitchen and I started on dinner, my heart feeling lighter than it had since before the war. I smiled. Blaise was going to have to find his way on his own. I started to laugh, and sung under my breath:
"You're gonna miss me miss me when I'm gone."