Ron Weasley

I am sat at the back of Advanced Muggle Studies and despite my usual vigour,  I start to think about what the fucking point of all this is. The events of the past week run through my mind and I begin to ponder upon whether I should just sharpen a scythe and slit the jugular of every mean spirited shit here. Just before my apathy towards the tutor can reach boiling point, I am reminded that it's time for my appointment.

Skip forward a few minutes and I'm climbing up the rope ladder to Ms Trelawney's room. The air smells musty and laced with marijuana. I believe Trelawney's is under the illusion that no one knows she smokes muggle drugs, but then again, Trelawney believes that she's psychic. When I make my way through the trapdoor, she is sat in her cloth chair next to the fire.

"Ah, Patrick." She says, "I sensed your presence."

Riiiight.

"I know." I say, "It's... spooky?"

She sighs.

"We all have our cross to bear."

She points to the chair that's in front of her.

"Now, sit."

And so begins my therapy session.

I sit myself in the chair and make deliberate attempts not to look Trelawney in the eyes.

"Patrick, you look worried."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Normally, I lie at this point and tell her everything she wants to hear, but this time I want to tell her everything. I feel rage. I feel hate. I feel like I want to vomit all over the world. Black vomit. I am suddenly thinking about a sexual encounter I had with a corpse last night. The thought doesn't turn me on. It doesn't turn me off either. It just is.

"Patrick," Trelawney interrupts my thoughts, "What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know whether it's because I'm bored. I don't know whether it's because Hermione Granger refuses to talk to me after we had sex last week. I don't whether it's the book I'm reading at the moment is failing to capture my imagination. Maybe it's because my brother, Sean, is a screaming faggot that's fucking some guy named Paul. Whatever it is I am coming to the undeniable conclusion that the world is a horrible and twisted place."

Trelawney sighs and agrees with me. Our session lasts an hour and then I'm in the dining room trying to get Hermione to look me directly in the eye.

Fast forward two more weeks and it's Christmas. Most of Slytherin has left to go on holiday. The only ones around are myself, Price, Malfoy, Noonan and a few more. We all spend most of our time in the dining room. Price challenges people to chess while I sit in the corner reading a novel about muggle police in the 50's, The Big Nowhere. I'm at a particularly interesting point where the young Deputy Upshaw has found the bodies of two homos. The description of the bodies is extremely detailed and I begin to imagine that I am sat having a meal with the murderer from the book, the Wolverine. He sounds like my kind of fellow. My fantasies are cut short when I realise that I am being stared at from across the room. I look over the top of my book to see Carruthers is smiling and waving to me. I give a thin smile and then return to my book. Two minutes later, he is stood over me. I pretend I haven't seen him. Then he begins to cough. A little faggoty cough. I still ignore him and turn to the next page. He coughs louder. I throw my book down in a fit of anger.

"What, Luis?" I shout "Why are you fucking coughing? Do you want my attention or do you have fucking VD again?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you reading time." He says, oblivious to my temper, "It's just that me and a few of the other Hufflepuffs are getting together to have a bit of a Christmas party. I thought you might like to come."

"You have alcohol?" I ask

"Why yes. We snuck some in just after everyone left to go home. Oh, please say you'll come. You're the only Slytherin we've asked to come. Pleeeease."

He begins to batter his eyelids. I try not to vomit all over his face. I should really decline, but the prospect of alcohol and the fact that I am exclusive to the rest of Slytherin makes me say yes.

A couple of hours later, I'm stood outside the Hufflepuff common room. I say the password and make my way through the now revealed door. When I enter, a wave of jealousy sweeps over me when I realise that the Hufflepuff common room is better then Slytherin's. It's meticulously decorated in sumptuous blues and gold. A large Christmas tree stands in the corner surrounded by presents. Before I have time to look around anymore, Carruthers is bounding up to me like a large bloodhound.

"Oh, Patrick!" he minces, "You made it! I knew you would. Drink?"

"Do you have any whiskey?" I ask

Luis lowers his head a little and looks up at me. The result of which makes me want to glass him.

"Oh, Patrick, I'm sorry. We don't. Can I get you a beer? Would a beer be okay?"

No, you prick! A beer would not be okay. "That'd be fine." I smile,

Luis bows and runs off to find a beer. Although I don't want to leave, I decide that I have to hide from Luis. There are quite a few guys here and so I think I can do it. Just before I go to find my hiding place, I'm confronted by Ron Weasley.

"Patrick, hi." he says shyly,

"Weasley, how are you?"

"Um... fine. Yeah, I'm fine. Beer?"

He hands me a plastic pint glass and I except. I've noticed Weasley looking at me before. He is clearly in awe of me. We both stand quietly supping our beer. I begin to notice that girls are thin on the ground and go to say something to Ron when I spy Luis is kissing Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor. I nudge Weasley and point them out.

"My God, have you seen those two?" I whisper,

Weasley giggles. He actually giggles.

"I know. Longbottom is soo ugly."

"That's not quite what I meant, Weasley, but, yes, he was at the back of the queue when God handed out looks."

Weasley giggles again and finishes his beer in one go.

"C'mon, let's go somewhere else before he makes us vomit." Weasley says,

I agree.

"Shouldn't we get some more alcohol?" I ask

"This stuff? Nah!"

He pulls out a hip flask from his pocket. I begin to sweat as I realise that I should have come up with that idea and not Weasley.

"This is some of my brother's home-brew. It tastes like ginger beer, but acts like vodka."

"Weasley, show me the way." I smile, beginning to like Weasley's style,

We go upstairs and barricade ourselves in one of the first years bedroom. We know we won't be disturbed because all first years go home at Christmas. We finish off the hip flask. It's quite potent. After much laughter, Ron goes quiet.

"Ron? Ron, what's the matter?"

I feel drunk.

"Did you really sleep with Hermione?" he slurs,

"Ah Well... Yes, I did. It just happened. I found her crying in the library..."

"Yeah, me and her had a fight." Weasley interrupts, "I told her something she didn't want to know."

"I see. Well, I guess I comforted her. It was nothing really. I was expecting it to end differently, but there she is... Still alive."

Ron ignores this last part and begins to weep. Normally, I would leave the room, but I am drunk and so I place a comforting hand on his knee.

"Hey.. Now come on, Weasley. Stop crying. If you want her, she's yours. It meant nothing, I swear."

Ron looks up at me. His eyes are red with tears. He wipes them away with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Really?" he asks

"Really!" I reemphasise,

He smiles and the before I know his lips are on mine. His hand reaches for my groin and I'm hard. This fifth year is rubbing me up and I'm hard. I push him away.

"What the fuck?" I shout,

"Patrick, I'm sorry. I thought..."

I make a break for the door and run downstairs to the common room. When I walk into the room, I find that everyone is getting off on everyone else. Normally, I am fine with this, but everyone here is male. Even those few I thought were girls... Everyone is either kissing or fucking. Luis has Neville bent over the sofa and...

My God!

Luis looks into my eyes as he pumps away. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn around to find Ron staring up at me.

"Patrick, pleease..."

His hand reaches my face and he tries to kiss me again. His right leg is pushing it's way between mine. I push him as hard as I can and he hits the floor in a slobbering heap.

"From now on, don't ever turn your back on me." I say and leave the room,

The incidents of tonight have disturbed me. I kick and scream at the walls as I walk out of Hogwart's. I need to leave this place for a bit. I need to recapture some control.

Before I know it, I'm outside The Three Broomsticks. When I walk in, I see a beautiful woman of 21 sat near the fire. I buy two drinks off the barmaid. I make my to fire and sit down next to the girl. She looks at me suspiciously, but smiles when I hold out my hand.

"Hello, my name's Patrick Bateman. Would you like a drink?"

As we talk I put my hand in my pocket. Everything is fine. I remembered to bring my twig clippers.