Such A Mess
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: This is for the 3rd Annual Can You Write A Romance? Competition. Please read and review!
A slob, to Lucius, is someone who creates a mess and leaves it behind. Lucius wonders if that means he's one. He remembers the tangled web of lies he weaved, the tears, the whispered sweet nothings and the devoted "I love you". He remembers the screams of rage when James found out he was getting married to Narcissa finally (after Andromeda's betrayal, no one was ready for the youngest Black sister to be married and leave the family). He remembers the whispers ("Run away with me"; "You don't have to do this or be this"; "Please Lucius don't do this!"); he remembers the pain he has caused.
James grabbed Lucius' wrist to keep him from leaving the room. His hand had a vice grip and no matter how much Lucius would yank his hand away, it wouldn't break it. Lucius was forced to stare into hurt chocolate eyes and James' shocked face.
"Are you serious right now?" James demanded. Lucius could understand his shock and could understand the unspoken questions James was asking. "How can you throw years of passion away" and "how can you just go from saying 'I love you' to 'I'm leaving'?"
"James, let go of me," Lucius growled. He can't be here any longer or he'll break his resolve.
"No! Explain this to me! How can you do this?" James asked and his bottom lip does that unconscious habit in which it quivers when he gets too emotional and Lucius cringes.
"The same damn way I'm becoming a Death Eater and marrying Narcissa," Lucius informed him and he knew he was striking a nerve by the way James' face contorted.
"You don't want to do this. So why do it?" James could put together that, like those other two things on Lucius' agenda, he didn't want to do this. He didn't have the desire at all.
"I have no choice."
"That's what you always say. You have a choice; you're too cowardly!" James yelled. He was infuriated and he was fed up of the same lines over and over again. The same petty excuses were grating on James' nerves and he was tired of hearing them, especially if he was going to lose Lucius this time.
"Well I've never proclaimed to be a Gryffindor. And what about you Mr. Self-Righteous? Why don't you leave Lily if you think I can leave Narcissa so easily? Why are you still with Lily? Why don't you run away with me?" Lucius struck another nerve, a blow below the belt, something they never mentioned but Lucius had a point and James' face showed that he knew that too.
"T-That's different," James stuttered.
"Bullocks. It's not different at all. Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones Potter." James' eyes widened.
"Oh so I'm Potter now? Not 'sweetheart', 'dear', 'love', 'James'?" Lucius flinched at the shrillness in his voice. James was close to crying; he was so mad and so hurt. Lucius almost couldn't stand James' agony.
"James, just let it go!" Lucius insisted, trying yet again to move.
"Tell me," James spoke and his voice was emotionless and it startled Lucius. Lucius had never heard him like this.
"Tell you what?" Lucius questioned.
"Tell me you don't love me and I will let you go."
"James," Lucius flinched.
"Tell me," James insisted.
"And what if I can't? Will we just keep on being whispers, broom closets and Hog's Head? I need more. There! I admit, I'm selfish and I don't want to hurt myself anymore by letting you leave me for that damn Mudblood!" Lucius shouted. Finally, there it was. Lucius needed him in monogamy.
"Don't say that." James told him. He hated this use of the word 'Mudblood'.
"See? You defend her even now. You can't have us both. Make up your mind." Lucius demanded. His steel eyes were penetrating and burning with anger.
The silence was deafening.
"Let go," Lucius growled and this time James let go, but not without tears that added volumes to the noise that the silence created.
That led Lucius to be here in Hog's Head, not for pleasure, but to drink his sorrows away before having to return to Malfoy Manor. At least marrying Narcissa would make the formidable and lonely mansion somewhat habitable. It wasn't made for just one person.
Lucius drank his Firewhiskey; the flames burning in his throat as he downed glass after glass. He sat in the tavern for the first time. He had always gone upstairs. Never had he been downstairs but he supposed everything has a first time. He could hear the merry celebration for Christmas, which was soon to come, and Hogsmeade was covered in a blanket of pure white snow. It all, the happiness and the laughs, seemed so ironic to his current situation. He felt smoke and alcohol cling to his form and he felt so dirty. He didn't feel any better and if anything the alcohol was making his sorrow worse instead of hiding it away in a glass mug.
Lucius begins to leave when a hand places itself on his shoulder. A hand he is so familiar with, every scar and wrinkle of it. He doesn't have to turn around to know its James. He just wants to know why. Why is he here?
James sits down and says nothing, the silence so tense you could cut it with a piece of paper. Lucius doesn't want to talk to him but he can't help himself.
"What are you doing here?" Lucius asks.
"I'm saying I'm sorry. You're right and honestly I should let you go so you can be happy but I can't. I can't let you go." James' chocolate eyes are pleading and so beautiful. Lucius turns away.
"And with those words do you just expect me to come back?"
"No, I just want you to know that I need you, even though it's not good for me or you. You're like my drug." Lucius raises an eyebrow.
"Is that a good thing?" James laughs and Lucius' lips quirk up. He had a rich and vibrant laugh. It makes Lucius feel happier than the Firewhiskey had, that was for certain.
"This is wrong but it feels so right and I need you." James is simply killing Lucius now. He didn't need to hear this. Lucius already knew this with every fiber of his being for Lucius needed James too.
"I know."
"So are you really leaving me or will you stay?" James asks.
"I'm sorry. But I'm a slob." Lucius informs him.
"What are you talking about? You are not one, if anything I'm one." His forehead wrinkles and his eyebrows knit together in a way that makes it all too cute and Lucius hates the power James has over him.
"No, James, you're not. I'm the one that's leaving without cleaning up my mess." James immediately gets that it's not a real mess. He gets that it's their relationship or whatever it is. It's the way they left things. It's them.
"It isn't just your mess."
"It's my fault." Lucius shoots back. It's true if he hadn't seduced a schoolboy (even though Lucius was only three years older than him in actuality) so long ago none of this would have happened.
"Don't be one then. Clean up." James whispered, leaning into his ear to whisper it, sending shivers down Lucius' spine.
"How?" Lucius asks.
"Finish what you started. Don't leave it; don't throw everything away in a closet. Stay with me." James' hand clasps his own.
"James," Lucius begins.
"Don't you want to?" Who is Lucius kidding? He's never been strong. Lucius needs him and he won't keep away. He hates it but Lucius won't stay away (even though he knows it's better since James and Lily are going to get married the same spring Narcissa and Lucius will be and James won't leave Lily ever).
"I do."
"So then finish it. Stay."
So Lucius agrees and the mess continues. And although he isn't a slob, he sometimes wonders if it would be better if he were. Maybe then he'd be the immaculate man like he's supposed to be and then maybe - just maybe - his heart wouldn't be aching and his life wouldn't be such a catastrophe of a romantic tragedy.
The newspaper headlines scream it everywhere he goes. James and Lily Potter are dead and their son, the only survivor, has banished the Dark Lord. Lucius should be happy since he escaped the shackles he was chained with but he can't bring himself to smile. The raven-haired man has his heart and his emotions.
The day he stands to wave his son off to Hogwarts on that blasted platform with all those memories of longing glances and half smiles, Lucius sees the Boy-Who-Lived and, when the boy meets his eyes, Lucius flinches.
Somewhere in him, he was hoping to see James' eyes. Harry has everything else but not his eyes and, with that blaring scar, Lucius isn't transported by sheer desire back in time, to the good days; instead, Lucius feels so raw and Lucius is in agony. Pure, concentrated agony and he has to close his eyes to stop the world from spinning.
He's finally found his mess - such a mess - of emotions again. Lucius found his heart and he wishes he never had. Just like before his heart is a mess of gooey emotions all for a man with twinkles in his eyes and a loud, lively laugh.
Lucius is such a mess. He couldn't even begin to clean up or leave the mess he's become.