Disclaimer: The Harry potter series belongs to J. K. Rowling. The only profit I gain from this story is the enjoyment and experience of writing it.
Written for the The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Round 13
Prompts:
12.(word) echo
13.(word) riverbank
14.(quote) 'I drink to make other people more interesting' - Ernest Hemingway
Two Things that Flow
He was frowning frowned as he swirled his tumbler, the ice clicking against the glass. He sat at the end of the bar. Dudley ran a hand over his face. He was tired of the constant fighting.
"Hello, darling," said a lush voice as a pale thin hand ran down his right arm.
He let out an irritated grunt and tossed off the unwanted hand.
"Aw, don't be like that darling." He looked up with a scowl as his unwanted company settled down in on a bar stool next to him.
"What will it be, lovely?" asked the bartender with a flirtatious grin.
"Get a room, gov."
"Come on, Dud. Only being friendly."
Dudley snorted into his drink. Gulliver rolled his eyes but he was use to Dudley's standoffish attitude.
"A Bloody Mary, please," the lady said, her blood red lips curving into a seductive smile as one of her hands ran along her chin.
"Coming right up," Gulliver said with a wide grin.
She turned her attention back to Dudley, making him shift uncomfortably.
Dudley lifted his right hand and waved his fingers.
"See something?"
She laughed again and caught his left hand.
"You're married?"
"Happily," Dudley said, jerking his hand roughly out of her grasp.
"Happily? You don't seem happy if you're here alone."
He grunted and took a heavy gulp from his drink.
Gulliver appeared again and set the drink down in front of the lady.
"Here you go."
"Thanks." She passed some money over the counter to Gulliver.
"Dudley, you have no manners. You're suppose to pay for the lady's drink," he said with a wink.
Dudley glowered. "One more comment like that and I'll tell you exactly where to shove it."
Gulliver lifted his hands up in a surrendering motion. "Whoa, calm down." He pulled out a cleaning cloth and swept it along the a small portion of the bar.
The lady took a small sip of her drink. For several moments they were silent as they were lost in their own thoughts.
"I drink to make other people more interesting," Dudley spoke, lifting his glass in a playful toast. Gulliver chuckled , and the lady gave an amused smile at him.
"So whats your name, lovely?" asked Gulliver, leaning over the counter towards the lady.
She brushed a lock of pitch black hair out of her face. "Shouldn't you introduce yourself first?" She [she] said as she braced her head lazily on her open palm.
"I am Gulliver Hunt, and this is Dudley Dursley."
"Elenor Gray. Its nice to meet both of you," she replied coolly.
Dudley grunted and took a swig out of his glass. "That's a pretty name," Gulliver said in another attempt to flatter the lady. Dudley made a face into his glass; his wife would say he was being childish.
All three of them were grown adults; Gulliver finding Gray attractive was natural. But he always found watching someone else try to form a romantic connection like watching a chick-flick movie: dull and somewhat disgusting. The endless gushes of flirtatious comments and flattery were pointless.
Dudley supposed he had been lucky to run into his wife at the right time. She hadn't been looking for a romantic relationship to sweep her off her feet. Though he had swept her off her feet on their wedding day.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" asked Gray quietly next to his ear. He jerked away and glared at her as he rotated his glass irritably.
"Don't mind him. He's moody on the best of days," Gulliver said, rolling his eyes.
Dudley shrugged. He imagined that it was probably true, after all he usually came here after a fight with his wife.
He had met Gulliver several years ago when he had the first harsh argument with his newly wedded wife.
"You aren't an old grouch like me, because you don't have my problems."
Gulliver nodded as he replied, "True enough."
Dudley closed his eyes as he rubbed a tired hand over his face. He could still hear the echoes of his wife's raised voice in his mind. An echoes that he couldn't silence.
"Another drink, Dudley?"
Dudley shook his head as he stood up and paid for his drink.
"Some other time then," Gulliver said with a smile as he took the money.
"Leaving so soon?" queried Gray with a soft smile.
"It's only soon for you because you came late," he said with a lazy wave over his shoulder.
#
Stepping out of the pub, he paused as he glanced up and down the empty street. Even though he was done drinking, he wasn't prepared to head home so he headed down the street. There was a path that lead down towards the river that he could follow.
After a while, he broke off from the path and made his way down to the riverbank. He sat down in the slightly damp grass and watched as the water slowly drifted down river.
He remembered one of his college mates had commented once that people's lives were like individual rivers all flowing their courses. And his was a lazy winding river, because in the end they all were going to the same place. So he might as well slow down and enjoy it. At the time , Dudley had just rolled his eyes and endured poetic metaphors. Now that he thought about it, it made quite a bit of sense. All rivers flowed to the ocean, or at least that's what people said.
For a moment, the world turned into unidentifiable blurs of color. He let the hands that had braced him upright fall away. His wife wanted to go to the ocean for the holidays. Dudley would like that too, now how that he thought about it. Maybe he couldn't silence the echoes at once. But they would face their problems, and he could replace the echoes with something better, like laughter.