Disclaimer..... Read thouroughly!! I do not want to post this with every chapter...
I am not, nor will I ever be J. K. Rowling. I'm just taking Draco out for his exercise. Sorry for the hell-ish delay in updates, but I recently reacquired my laptop. So all is good and well in the world of writing. Thanks to my lovely reviewers...all 2 of them. Maybe I'll get more soon, who knows. Love y'all!
Study of My Mal-Contented Muse
God, Why am I here again? It happens every time. It never fails, though sometimes I hope it would forget...That I would forget. But, that's the bliss of a Freudian Lapse...no control. A long time ago, I realized that control was a prettily painted picture. A fantasy. One that I would never consciously live out.
I was having my current epiphany while hunched over on a barstool in a local muggle coffee shop. I've been here so many times that I neither have to look to my right nor left to know that the young Irish fellow at the end of the bar will soon come over and tell me the world is shite and I am his inspiration for better living, then he'll leave. Here he comes now. As surely as the time doth pass by...
Do I really look that bad today?
But yet I say nothing. I'm not so social lately, more just in a state of physical disrepair. At least I know people won't bother me, or better yet...notice me. I study my hands presently warming themselves on my mug filled with coffee. Black as night. Perhaps if I hadn't worn my mittens with the fingers cut off I wouldn't be having this problem. They were dark green and moth-eaten. I pay too much attention to detail, I realize this. But I'm a writer, it's what we do. A blast of winter air caused me to shiver and reminded me that I was still in the café, but I would be late for work. No matter, I owned the bookstore anyway. Nevertheless I pulled myself up, and forced my body into the chilly weather of outside Surry.
I'm no longer associated with my previous life. I had to get away from it all and just be normal again. I do, however, manage to catch a glimpse of "one" every now and then in passing. It's only when I think of what used to be...only then am I drawn to that place. To dwell I suppose, or to lose myself again in the muggles in order to regain sanity. I am forever grateful for all I learned and experienced. I have no reason for why I left really...I just simply wanted to forget. Which is proving increasingly impossible. The people I once knew and loved think that I'm dead, except for Dumbledore of course. He always knew. The beauty was that he would never tell. On every literal blue moon I'd see a Barn Owl, and receive a letter. He'd write and keep me informed of the events of my friends, the school I can't bring myself to say the name of anymore, and any major news of the year. That was the only thing that I granted myself from their world. It would satisfy my curiosity just enough. Other than that, I would remain clueless.
This particular moment I was completely submerged in "Masque of The Red Death," trying to imagine every colorful room and the shadowy gentleman lurking in them in coordination to Poe's meticulous descriptions. I didn't hear the bell on the door warning me that someone had enter my store. Only when someone slightly cleared their throat did I look up from my page. My ears suddenly filled with white noise, and my heart stopped.
No!! Fuck...the scar would forever betray him. God...Harry.
I noticed his lips were moving but I couldn't hear him so I snapped out of my thoughts.
"What?"
His patient eyes looked into mine with a smile. No one ever looked me in the eyes anymore.
"I said, I was wondering if you had anything by Aldous Huxley?"
"Yes I do. Is there any particular work you're interested in, or is it just the author in general?"
"In general..."
"Follow me."
I booked -marked my page and led him into the back of the store then return to my precious story. Apparently and by the grace of God, he didn't recognize me. Not that I was expecting him to. I look nothing like my old self. I was 6'0 now. My hair was in its now natural state of complete shambles, piled on top of my head. I also dressed like a slightly better off homeless person. Minus the bad smell...
I too was of a sound mind to change my name to avoid any contact or lingering suspicions after I 'died.' But until now I had managed to steer clear of anyone I knew so closely. This was just completely stressful. Harry came back a few minutes later and again broke me from my reverie. I briefly noted the book he had placed on the counter, 'Brave New World.'
"Good choice.."
I said this more to myself than to him, but he heard me and smiled.
"You've read it?"
"I would never put a book on these shelves that I haven't read for myself."
He took that time to fully take in the extent of my store and it's contents. I nearly laughed at the look of his face, in all of its wide-eyed perspective. I rang up the sale and handed him the book.
"Thank you..."
"Merrick, My name is Merrick."
He slightly bowed his head and said absently,
"Beautiful name."
Go Harry, just go...please.
He glanced up before turning and walking out the door, and hopefully back out of my life.
That night, I climbed into my attic for the first time since I put my belongings up there...5 years ago. My old robes, my scarf, my wand was still where I'd put them. There and only there was my past known. All the enchanted pictures of my friends. Of Harry and Ron...I kept everything. Sitting on the floor, I picked up a picture of Seamus and smiled sadly. He looked out of the picture at me and winked, right before getting his tongue stuck to the frozen poll of one of the three Quittich hoops. I remember how Ron dared him to do that. I tried to warn Seamus, but he insisted that nothing would happen. Hagrid had to come and pry him off. I missed Hagrid. Amongst the other stray photographs was a picture of me during my last year at the school there. It was my Head Girl picture. Standing next to me just as still and cold, was Draco, the Head Boy. A bitter taste came to my mouth. That was probably the only picture in existence where both he and I stood together. He was probably ecstatic when the news of my death came around. Then I thought of Ron and Harry. I could only imagine what they went through. All of a sudden, tears fell out of my eyes. And I cried myself to sleep right there on the attic floor.