A.S.N(Authors Stupid Note): I hate writing, I love Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter and love to torture them with sadistic tools and dress them up into bunny suits and stick pins into them and put leashes on them so that they can pretend to be my personal sex toys….I have fun with sadism. DRCAO FOR HARRY (and me) FOREVER.
Alcohol My Friend
"I hope death rises," He pours himself another shot.
"In all those occasions, I always hope someone would die every time my heart was broken." The wall of testimony drunkenness disappears, replaced with desperation.
"If that wish were to happen, then fuck, the half of the world population would suddenly drop dead." He chuckles darkly, drumming in his soar throat.
"My doubt that everything will come out okay is ever lasting. As every bloody person in the universe thinks that hope will make your chances rise." He swallows sharply, the shot glass falls on the counter.
"Well, here I come along."
Pause. Then a smirk.
"I'm arrogant. A bastard. But fuck, I not a dreamer in this monopoly of a world." Now full out laughter runs through his face, pale eyes brightening.
"It's hard to understand, everything really. Everything." He pushes the shot glass for more, the bartender complies.
"Simply beautiful shitness of a world that I come from." His silver brow rises sharply.
"Potter can tell you that.
Potter knows everything.
Potter is the beast.
Potter is rightful.
But by fucks sake, he's a cruel bastard, worse than me at least." Sharp eyes spot the mirror behind the wooden counter.
"It's his fault that I'm like this." He stares at himself.
"His entire fault, from the very beginning of it." He spits at the reflection.
"You see, children," Dead drawl.
"Potter here is the great one who killed Voldemort in our 7th year, oh yes, he did it very bravely indeed." His pleasant snort spills a bit of the clear liquid that he swallows with a jab.
"He claimed it was to avenge his fallen carpet on wheels, Weasly." The smirk is more evident by the seconds that pass.
"Yes, Ronald Weasly," His faced contorted into a perverted joy, "did die, quite stupidly in fact, let's just say he was trying to become the next Golden Boy, by facing death in the eyes and scraping his boots on a reality check, when he heard the "Dark Lord" fling him off to zombie world Death with a flash of green." He glanced about himself, as if proud from his rather frank statement.
"How tactful, really." His reply came.
"Well, Potter was devastated and so was his doormat Mudblood also, she committed suicide 2 weeks later, unable to live with the separation from her idiot of a lover.
So here we have Harry Potter, savior of all good little wizards, prancing around in melancholy killing off Voldemort to avenge his fallen heroes." Another snort, this time seemed less enjoyed than the last, more vodka to poison pain away.
"Oh I laughed.
How I fucking laugh when the old bastard with the title of "Dark Lord" suddenly died, with Potter sweating and bleeding with sexy written all over him emerged from the London Underground…." Dazed and uncertain, his eyes swiftly changed to a look of rabid lust.
"Can you tell I'm drunk?" His look directed to his reflection.
"I deserve to be drunk" He whispered softly, looking at his perfectly pale and delicate face, without traces of the millions of scars that line his skin..
"For once I deserve this fucking pleasure of oblivion." With sudden rage, he banged the counter with his chipped glass, a signal for the bemused bartender
"Whoops, I'm a fucking loser." Laughter with insanity emerged.
"Call it drama.
Call is stupidity.
All I can reply with.
Is a loving fuck you with a wand up your ass." His vulgar comments made people stare, the silver boy didn't apparently give a shit.
"'Cause my intellect dropped ever so slowly, with every shot of brandy or vodka I've injected in the past hour." He grinned and filled his awaiting stomach with alcohol
"All because of Potter…" His grin dropped.
"All because of Harry fucking wonderful Potter…" His voice must have attracted Death, because what he saw next was loving darkness…
