Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine, though- as there are no actual references to the Potterverse, it is a representation of it… so it all still belongs to J.K.
Beta: nada
Title: Chocolate
Summary: Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. The Tale of Harry Potter's Life As Seen Through A Procession of Chocolaty Treats. Drarry (very, very vague), slash (very, very vague, again).
Rating: T
They say life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. When you get to the store you see the box, and you stop. You admire the wrapping, the presentation, the makers name. You hold it up to test the weight, you shake it slightly to make sure it's all there, and you ponder.
You purse you're lips and you think to yourself 'do I really need this? Do I really want to go through the guessing process that is expected?' Sometimes you buy the box, sometimes it's a present, a gift, and its cheaper than a rose but more thoughtful than a card.
Sometimes you think, sigh, then shake your head, and replace the prettily wrapped treats.
But you'll never truly escape the trap of the chocolates, no. You will give and receive them as we all do. You will pick through the ones you know you like, and give away the ones you cannot stand. It's expected, when you are gifted with chocolates, that you will share, and you usually do.
But what happens when you, and you alone, must eat the candies? What happens when there is no one to share in the bite-sized delight? When you are being watched by the world, judged on what you do as you taste each flavour, what expression graces your face each time you must pick up a random and unknown treat?
The first one you select may be sweet, it may be bitter. It is bitter, and try though you might you cannot spit it out, your body is no longer under your control. You are chewing carefully, your body not reacting to your minds demands that you spit it into the trash now! You are swallowing, grimacing as the bitter candy leaves a revolting path to your stomach. Your eyes are watering from the taste, from the suggestion that the rest of the candies will only be as disgusting as this.
You are allowed water, a small sip only, and though it refreshes you the bitter taste is still there, and you grab another chocolate at random, hoping to force away the remaining taste.
You chew thoughtfully, surprised. This one isn't so bad, and yet… You have the feeling that it isn't as good as what else is in the box. It seems almost… bland, after your initial relief. You chew and swallow, slightly disappointed but willing to be happy that it hasn't hurt you.
When you grab the next one you expect something better, something more than you have had. But the taste is wrong, odd, almost as though the candy started out sweet but mutated to a tangy, slightly sour. Your crinkle your nose, but swallow, hoping that the faster you eat it the faster the taste will dissipate.
But you have had too many candies in a row for the newest flavour to die away quickly. The bitter taste is still there, poisoning the others, adding new dimensions to the vile taste building in the back of your throat. You look around for a glass of water but none is in sight, so you glance at the box again and sigh.
You might be able to intuit the ingredients, the flavours, the sweetness, but you just don't
care any more. You pick up the next one and bite down.
Time flies by as this pattern continues, meaning nothing to you as it does. You are stuck in this time, in this place, with these same chocolates sitting before you, dwindling slowly. You have had other bitter, repugnant sweets coat your tongue, leaving an impression in your mind that you will never be free from the horrors of this box. But you have had a
moment or two of delight, of joy, and you savour those moments as though they were your lifelines.
Warm impressions that bear you up as disgusting after disgusting sweet passes through your lips, with the hope that soon you will be able to have another enjoyable treat. But you are slowing down, that hope fading as you get no break from the monotony of bitter and burning candies. That first chocolate has stayed with you, tainting all of what you eat, reminding you without fail that your very first candy was nauseating.
You are getting sick as your body fights the influx of sugar and cocoa, and your mouth is gritty and sticky and vile. The minimal water you are allowed means nothing to you- it does nothing for you. You are blessed with one moment of the cool, tasteless liquid but all too soon another sweet is in your mouth and you are once again trying to spit out the foul candy.
There are few chocolates left, now, and you stare at each one desperately, wondering how you should go about this. Should you eat them as fast as you can? Or should you space them out, leaving your body time to become accustomed to the taste and effect?
You slowly read for the last milk chocolate, wondering what fate awaits you after that first bite. Gingerly you set your teeth down, and press, wincing in anticipation of what you have received.
But your eyes widen and you stare at the bit still in your hand, chewing slowly in amazement. You pop what's left of it in your mouth, moaning softly at the exquisite taste.
Kings have fought over such treasures as what you have just eaten, and priests have worshiped it. Your eyes shut as the last of the candy dissolves like a snowflake on your tongue, and you savour it for as long as you may. There is a peace inside of you, a peace that you have not felt since you first began this process.
But all too soon it is time to continue on, and with determination the next candy is placed in your mouth. And you wretch. You choke and gasp as tears stream down your face, yet there is no way for you to be rid of the candy, or it's taste. With great, gasping heaves you struggle for breath, fighting with your body as you try to expel the offending treat and your throat tries to swallow it.
Soon, though, it is over and the rare glass of water is waiting for you. You gulp it down with no care or thought of conservation, you just need to place anything in your mouth other than the vile chocolate that has invaded your every sense.
You glance at the box through watering eyes, and sigh brokenly as the sight of three more chocolates greets your gaze. A white candy, a black one with brown sprinkles, and a brown one with white drizzled atop. You choose the white one, hoping that it would be a reprieve from the last. It dissolves on your tongue and you choke as the taste of gritty coconut lashes through your body.
Your head throbs as the taste races through your body, leaving you light-headed and weak. There is no thought of trying to discard the candy, no thought of anything other than surviving the storm that has overcome you. Your heart is beating in your chest, you hear screams and howls through the fog that fills your ears, and all around you the world is dark and damp and dreary.
It is a long while before you regain consciousness, a long time before the throbbing, splitting headache dissipates and the thunderous roar in your ears dies down. You sit up, wondering when you had fallen, and glance around. Everything is the same, but different. You cannot fathom the change, but its there. It's palpable.
So is the box. It waits for you, patient, knowing you will come back to it eventually. You glare, you curse, you scream and rage at it for doing this to you, for making your life a miserable hell. But of course it doesn't respond- it is, after all, a box.
You grab the nearest candy and toss it in your mouth, annoyed and enraged. The candy was the sprinkled one, and it is a sweet, bland thing that does nothing but fan your rage and anger. Within moments it is gone, sent to follow the others, and you turn to the last, wondering if you've served your purpose yet.
Your life has been ruled by these candies, and you want their hold on you to be over. They have ruined you, battered you with fear and loathing and panic, and you want to wash your hands of their sugary, interfering little box.
The last one is in your hand and you stare at it, daring it to hurt you. To harm you in any way. To break your heart or remind you of your past. With an effort you unclench your jaw and throw it in, at first not noticing the taste by sheer force of will.
But then the taste comes, slowly, like the drizzling of an afternoon rain. You wonder that you haven't enjoyed the sight for far to long, and as you think that the box disappears. A door appears in it's stead, and for a moment you stare, amazed.
When were you last free of your responsibilities? When could you last play with your friends and just enjoy the summers day?
Far, far too long ago.
As the last candy fades to a barely noticeable taste you emerge from the room you have been locked in for uncounted years, and you notice everything. You see the brilliance of the sun, you hear the joyful chirping of the birds, you see the beauty of butterflies dancing on the wind.
You see your friends clearly, and your family, and your teachers. Your pets and your home and your things. It is as if the world is clearer, cleaner, brighter. And you smile and wave and nod, and wrap your arm around the blonde who greeted you with a smile, and walk into the sun.
Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. But eventually you come to the end and you are free.
Ta-da!
No, I have no idea where this came from. But enjoy it, and please review. Ooh- and remember, these were my personal feelings on chocolate. And the one at the beginning ('as though the candy started out sweet but mutated to a tangy, slightly sour'), is the candy with the rum in it. I never liked it (or coconut, for that matter), and that's how it tastes to me.
Each candy represents a moment in Harry's life. The first would be the Dursley's the first good one was Draco, then the one at the end where he blacked out as killing Volders.
I hope someone enjoyed this....
Netrixie
