A Glimpse of Monday Evening
and we dissolve into December. I'm in a field some forty minutes outside of Hogsmeade. The old man whose throat I slit is sprawled across the crisp duvet of snow. The red claret pours from his throat and dyes the frozen water the same colour as a cherry slushy. A cherry slushy. The ones my father use to buy me when we were pretending to be muggles in New York. There's a faint twitch in the old man's left arm and I am suddenly overcome by such emotion that hold his head in my hands and kiss him. I wipe my eyes, eat some dirt and begin my trek back to Hogwart's. I walk into Hogsmeade at around about quarter past nine. The town is full and I liken the public's close proximity to being wrapped in cling film. I crawl on all fours across the cobbles until I reach the stoop of a store where I end up sitting. I rock back and forth watching the air escape my throat like frozen screams. I hold out my hand for change and find I that am rewarded with various bits and pieces. I try to eat these coins, but I grow tired of trying to knaw though the metal. In my head I replay a moment in the common room when I overheard a fresh faced twelve year old say the word 'cunt'. My thoughts are disturbed as someone I recognise to be Luis Carruthers. Luis is a fag. "Patrick," he says "Patrick? Is that you?" I growl and hiss. "Patrick, you're filthy. Get up at once and come with me back to Hogwart's." Luis is joined by another person who I do not recognise. They are probably in love with me or a faggot. "Oh, come on Luis!" they exclaim, "That's not Patrick." "But it looks like him." Luis holds out a hand and I try to bite it off. I fail. I feel remorse. "Luis, if that was Patrick, would he really be sat in front of a store." "I suppose not." "Besides, I distinctly heard Patrick say he was going to be staying in the common room all day. Said Sunday was God's day and he wanted to respect it." Luis says nothing more and escorted out of my sight. Another half hour or so later and I'm running, breathless, down the corridors of Hogwart's. Running somewhere in the direction, I think, is my common room. I think. Along the way I bump into Snape. "Bateman, what are you doing out at this time?" he sneers "It's gone ten. You should be in your common room." I don't answer. Instead I laugh. A long hard laugh. "Laugh you may do, Mr Bateman. However, I should let it be known that I will not see Slytherin lose house points because of some angst ridden little rich boy who is all pissed off because they haven't received their first pubic hair. Now get back to the common room." I laugh some more and push my way past Snape. When I think I am clear of him I run down to the abandon girl's toilets where Moaning Mirtle resides. I sit in the cubicle next to her and tell her about all the things I would do to her if she were alive. I think she becomes excited and so I tell her some more. I forced to make a quick retreat when appears in my cubicle and tries to force her ectoplasm on me in an erotic fashion. I am sick on a bust of Dumbledore. I am death. I am one. When I reach the common room, I find that everyone has gone to bed. Therefore, I pull out a bottle of rum I have hidden and I go sit by an open window. Through the window I can see four owls flying off towards the direction