Chapter Twenty-Eight, I think
Hmm... well, it's summer. It's nice out. And I haven't written a damn thing. Opps? :o) I went paintballing on Sunday for only four hours and my GOD I was so, so sore afterwards! I got a job too... finally... at Pizza Hut. Waiting fun. Tips nice. If you live in SE Mich., tell me and I'll tell you which one and when I'm working, and if you're lucky you can get me to spill a drink in your lap!! Just kidding, of course... I hope... *sigh* I'm too off balence to carry food items on trays. It just won't work. :o) "Take off all your preppy clothes..."
Aimée
(Hey, in a fit of review-wanting, let's say the person with the longest review next time gets a chapter or three dedicated to them?)
---
I was released a few days later, much to my relief. Mother hadn't come to see me since I had first woke, and whether she was angry with me or simply too emerged in her grief to do so, I still felt absolutely awful. Ethan was dead; even though I hadn't held any sort of feelings save hatred towards him, I still felt the overwhelming pain and grief our mother was going through. She had already lost a child years before; losing another must have been absolute hell for her.
Nothing had changed from the last time I was within our flat's walls. A chill ran up my spine as I set my bag of clothes I had worn in St. Mungo's down on the white sofa facing the fireplace. Draco was two steps behind me as I walked around the flat, absent-mindedly checking to make sure everything was indeed the same. I had no idea why the task was so important to me; I simply followed my feet, watching as the walls around me changed.
"What are you looking for?" Draco's voice sounded from behind me.
I shrugged, not turning around to face the man. "He's dead, Draco, yet everything's still the same."
Without so much as a blink of an eye, Draco flicked his bare hand towards a lamp sitting on the desk of the room we were in—his room—and it burst into a thousand pieces.
"Better?"
I turned around and shot him a grin, in spite of the melancholy, reflective mood I was in. "Much."
We remained silent for the rest of my tour around the flat with Draco trailing behind me. As I approached the dining room, I noticed a rather large pile of parchment letters, all of which had obviously been delivered by owl mail. I turned around, nearly knocking Draco over in the process, and shot him a curious look.
"Witch Weekly," he shrugged, "The Daily Prophet, Wizarding Weekly even… all of them want interviews with you, Harry. We've been fighting them off with sticks ever since you woke up. St. Mungo's had to hire extra security for your room, it was insane."
"Why didn't I hear about any of this?" I asked slowly, picking up one of the top envelopes and reading the disgustingly formal invitation to do an exclusive interview with a reporter named Skeeter, worded as if they were doing me a favor by placing me in their articles.
"You were recovering," Draco said quietly. "We didn't want them bothering you, and apparently we did a good job keeping them away, seeing as how you had no idea."
"What about Ethan?" I asked, my voice slightly pained with the memory. "Have any of these media vultures wanted an interview about him?"
"No," he answered honestly. "Why would they?"
I sighed mostly to myself, setting the parchment down. "I don't know, Draco. I just… I really don't know anything right now." I shook my head and brought my hand up over my eyes to brush my bangs away, remembering the cut on my forehead—now stitched up and healing—only when my fingertips brushed against it, sending a flash of pain through my body.
"Dammit!" I swore loudly, stalking back to the living room and sitting down on the white leather couch. "Why the hell did everything have to turn out this way?"
Draco made his way towards me, sitting down gingerly on the other end of the couch as if I were a timid animal ready to run at any moment. "It wasn't your fault, Harry."
"Like hell it wasn't," I growled. "I was the one who rebounded the spell—I was the one who survived it twice—I was the one who started the argument—I was the one who wasn't killed."
"And for these reasons, you blame yourself?" Draco asked quietly, touching my hand gently. "Even though it was Ethan who picked up his wand and uttered those words? Even though it was Ethan who came here in the first place? Even though it was Ethan who was sleeping with Cassandra? Even though it was Ethan's spell that killed him?"
I sighed, turning my head to look at the blonde man on my left. "I have to blame someone."
"Then blame me," his voice was strong and mind obviously clouded. "I was the one who wasn't able to get there in time to stop him. Just—please, for God's sake Harry, don't blame yourself."
"I have no reason to blame you," I said quietly.
"Then blame God," Draco spat bitterly, not at me but at the heavenly being he had stopped believing in a long time ago. "Blame Him for taking your brother away."
Before I could formulate an answer, I heard a soft rustle on the ground by my feet. Slowly, I looked down, jumping nearly a foot once I saw what lie next to me.
In between our feet lay a small serpent, his—her?—scales a bright green color.
"Fuck!" I swore once again, bringing my feet up quickly to the seat of the couch. "Why the hell is that thing here?"
"Fond of swearing today, Harry?" Draco said mildly as he reached out to take hold of the green thing. "This is Sam. I was—lonely, for lack of better word—when you were unconscious and, well…" He shrugged. "I wanted some company."
"Is he poisonous?" I asked carefully, backing up to the very edge of the couch, as far away as I could manage. I had never encountered a snake before, and the stories I had heard were less than flattering.
"She," Draco corrected. "And no, of course not. She's very docile—would you like to hold her? I promise she won't bite."
"How can you be so sure?" I asked cautiously.
"She's been hand fed since she was born," Draco said matter-of-factly. "There's nothing to worry about, I promise."
Slowly and against my better judgment, I reached out with my hands to take the small green snake. Her scales were dry and smooth against my calloused hands, something I hadn't expected.
"You're a very small one, aren't you?" I said quietly to her as she moved her head towards me.
"I am large for my kind."
With a yelp of surprise, I dropped the snake onto the couch and leaped off the couch into another armchair, staring at her with wide eyes. "It talks!"
"I should say the same about you."
Draco's eyes were wider than mine as he gently picked Sam up. "Did you—what the hell was that?"
I shook my head, too surprised for words. After a moment of this, Sam raised her head up once more, her fork-shaped tongue sliding out of her mouth and tasting the air.
"I must admit, I have never talked to a human before."
I stared at her in amazement. "Nor have I… talked to a snake."
"Harry, you're hissing!" Draco exclaimed, his hands shaking. "You're… bloody hell, you're…"
"I'm a fucking parselmouth."
Come and lay right on my bed, sit and drink some wine
I'll try not to make you cry
And if you'd get inside my head, then you'd understand
Then you'd understand me
Why I've felt so alone, why i kept myself from love
And you became my favorite drug
So let me take you right now and swallow you down,
I need you inside
If we had this night together
If we had a moment to ourselves
If we had this night together, then we'd be
Unstoppable
Do you think that this is right, or is it really wrong
I know that this is what we've been wanting
And all this is burning in my soul, it fills up to my throat
It fills up till my heart is breaking
If we had this night together
If we had a moment to ourselves
If we had this night together, then we'd be
Unstoppable
Now, we can both learn
Somehow, you'll see it's all we have
Love, it keeps us together
and I need love
When I wake up without you, knowing you're not there
I'm only feeling half as good
Well I'm gonna find a way
To wrap you in my arms, you make me feel alive
If we had this night together
If we had a moment to ourselves
If we had this night together, then we'd be
Unstoppable*
*Unstoppable, The Callin
---
Bienfoy: Welcome aboard! Heh... It's been something like fifteen months now (I'm taking such a bloody long time with FDTMA). I'm really glad you like it so far!! :o)
Cat Samwise: You remembered the title? Damn, good job! I can't even remember it... it's just FDTMA. *shrug* Eh, hopefully this didn't take... too... long. :o) Sorry for the wait!
Chibi Psycho-Pyro: Here's more, I like your pen name!
Dickens: Whatcha doing? I finally got off my ass and wrote a bit. Nice, eh? http://www.angelfire.com/blues/excuses/
Exis: Cliffies good. *G* Yes, it's angsty... it gets worse, but then it gets better, so all shall be well hopefully.
hana: Yeah, good point... I haven't met too many vain guys though, to be honest. Yep, Switchfoot good. :o)
Joycelene: "Sulking in your filth"? Err... I'll take your advice and not ask :o) Thanks, I'm glad you liked it. You have a great summer as well!
juu no: I'm glad you liked! Nope, never a dull moment... I like it that way. Gives me something to write about. :o)
Klee: LOL, should I be insulted? Yes, it's a chapter--and it's another chapter!! :o) He was a bit too disoriented for the date, I suppose. The first words outta my mouth would probably be something along the lines of "Is book 5 out yet?". No, I'm kidding... Probably "Where the hell am I?" There. That works. Yes... I do need to send you Phoenix Ashes (the Counting Blue Cars story).
MidnightDragon: Thank you, I'm glad you like it so far!
Morien Alexander: Thanks for understanding :o) I'm a pain in the ass when it comes to wanting to read new chapters, sorry.
Hmm... well, it's summer. It's nice out. And I haven't written a damn thing. Opps? :o) I went paintballing on Sunday for only four hours and my GOD I was so, so sore afterwards! I got a job too... finally... at Pizza Hut. Waiting fun. Tips nice. If you live in SE Mich., tell me and I'll tell you which one and when I'm working, and if you're lucky you can get me to spill a drink in your lap!! Just kidding, of course... I hope... *sigh* I'm too off balence to carry food items on trays. It just won't work. :o) "Take off all your preppy clothes..."
Aimée
(Hey, in a fit of review-wanting, let's say the person with the longest review next time gets a chapter or three dedicated to them?)
---
I was released a few days later, much to my relief. Mother hadn't come to see me since I had first woke, and whether she was angry with me or simply too emerged in her grief to do so, I still felt absolutely awful. Ethan was dead; even though I hadn't held any sort of feelings save hatred towards him, I still felt the overwhelming pain and grief our mother was going through. She had already lost a child years before; losing another must have been absolute hell for her.
Nothing had changed from the last time I was within our flat's walls. A chill ran up my spine as I set my bag of clothes I had worn in St. Mungo's down on the white sofa facing the fireplace. Draco was two steps behind me as I walked around the flat, absent-mindedly checking to make sure everything was indeed the same. I had no idea why the task was so important to me; I simply followed my feet, watching as the walls around me changed.
"What are you looking for?" Draco's voice sounded from behind me.
I shrugged, not turning around to face the man. "He's dead, Draco, yet everything's still the same."
Without so much as a blink of an eye, Draco flicked his bare hand towards a lamp sitting on the desk of the room we were in—his room—and it burst into a thousand pieces.
"Better?"
I turned around and shot him a grin, in spite of the melancholy, reflective mood I was in. "Much."
We remained silent for the rest of my tour around the flat with Draco trailing behind me. As I approached the dining room, I noticed a rather large pile of parchment letters, all of which had obviously been delivered by owl mail. I turned around, nearly knocking Draco over in the process, and shot him a curious look.
"Witch Weekly," he shrugged, "The Daily Prophet, Wizarding Weekly even… all of them want interviews with you, Harry. We've been fighting them off with sticks ever since you woke up. St. Mungo's had to hire extra security for your room, it was insane."
"Why didn't I hear about any of this?" I asked slowly, picking up one of the top envelopes and reading the disgustingly formal invitation to do an exclusive interview with a reporter named Skeeter, worded as if they were doing me a favor by placing me in their articles.
"You were recovering," Draco said quietly. "We didn't want them bothering you, and apparently we did a good job keeping them away, seeing as how you had no idea."
"What about Ethan?" I asked, my voice slightly pained with the memory. "Have any of these media vultures wanted an interview about him?"
"No," he answered honestly. "Why would they?"
I sighed mostly to myself, setting the parchment down. "I don't know, Draco. I just… I really don't know anything right now." I shook my head and brought my hand up over my eyes to brush my bangs away, remembering the cut on my forehead—now stitched up and healing—only when my fingertips brushed against it, sending a flash of pain through my body.
"Dammit!" I swore loudly, stalking back to the living room and sitting down on the white leather couch. "Why the hell did everything have to turn out this way?"
Draco made his way towards me, sitting down gingerly on the other end of the couch as if I were a timid animal ready to run at any moment. "It wasn't your fault, Harry."
"Like hell it wasn't," I growled. "I was the one who rebounded the spell—I was the one who survived it twice—I was the one who started the argument—I was the one who wasn't killed."
"And for these reasons, you blame yourself?" Draco asked quietly, touching my hand gently. "Even though it was Ethan who picked up his wand and uttered those words? Even though it was Ethan who came here in the first place? Even though it was Ethan who was sleeping with Cassandra? Even though it was Ethan's spell that killed him?"
I sighed, turning my head to look at the blonde man on my left. "I have to blame someone."
"Then blame me," his voice was strong and mind obviously clouded. "I was the one who wasn't able to get there in time to stop him. Just—please, for God's sake Harry, don't blame yourself."
"I have no reason to blame you," I said quietly.
"Then blame God," Draco spat bitterly, not at me but at the heavenly being he had stopped believing in a long time ago. "Blame Him for taking your brother away."
Before I could formulate an answer, I heard a soft rustle on the ground by my feet. Slowly, I looked down, jumping nearly a foot once I saw what lie next to me.
In between our feet lay a small serpent, his—her?—scales a bright green color.
"Fuck!" I swore once again, bringing my feet up quickly to the seat of the couch. "Why the hell is that thing here?"
"Fond of swearing today, Harry?" Draco said mildly as he reached out to take hold of the green thing. "This is Sam. I was—lonely, for lack of better word—when you were unconscious and, well…" He shrugged. "I wanted some company."
"Is he poisonous?" I asked carefully, backing up to the very edge of the couch, as far away as I could manage. I had never encountered a snake before, and the stories I had heard were less than flattering.
"She," Draco corrected. "And no, of course not. She's very docile—would you like to hold her? I promise she won't bite."
"How can you be so sure?" I asked cautiously.
"She's been hand fed since she was born," Draco said matter-of-factly. "There's nothing to worry about, I promise."
Slowly and against my better judgment, I reached out with my hands to take the small green snake. Her scales were dry and smooth against my calloused hands, something I hadn't expected.
"You're a very small one, aren't you?" I said quietly to her as she moved her head towards me.
"I am large for my kind."
With a yelp of surprise, I dropped the snake onto the couch and leaped off the couch into another armchair, staring at her with wide eyes. "It talks!"
"I should say the same about you."
Draco's eyes were wider than mine as he gently picked Sam up. "Did you—what the hell was that?"
I shook my head, too surprised for words. After a moment of this, Sam raised her head up once more, her fork-shaped tongue sliding out of her mouth and tasting the air.
"I must admit, I have never talked to a human before."
I stared at her in amazement. "Nor have I… talked to a snake."
"Harry, you're hissing!" Draco exclaimed, his hands shaking. "You're… bloody hell, you're…"
"I'm a fucking parselmouth."
Come and lay right on my bed, sit and drink some wine
I'll try not to make you cry
And if you'd get inside my head, then you'd understand
Then you'd understand me
Why I've felt so alone, why i kept myself from love
And you became my favorite drug
So let me take you right now and swallow you down,
I need you inside
If we had this night together
If we had a moment to ourselves
If we had this night together, then we'd be
Unstoppable
Do you think that this is right, or is it really wrong
I know that this is what we've been wanting
And all this is burning in my soul, it fills up to my throat
It fills up till my heart is breaking
If we had this night together
If we had a moment to ourselves
If we had this night together, then we'd be
Unstoppable
Now, we can both learn
Somehow, you'll see it's all we have
Love, it keeps us together
and I need love
When I wake up without you, knowing you're not there
I'm only feeling half as good
Well I'm gonna find a way
To wrap you in my arms, you make me feel alive
If we had this night together
If we had a moment to ourselves
If we had this night together, then we'd be
Unstoppable*
*Unstoppable, The Callin
---
Bienfoy: Welcome aboard! Heh... It's been something like fifteen months now (I'm taking such a bloody long time with FDTMA). I'm really glad you like it so far!! :o)
Cat Samwise: You remembered the title? Damn, good job! I can't even remember it... it's just FDTMA. *shrug* Eh, hopefully this didn't take... too... long. :o) Sorry for the wait!
Chibi Psycho-Pyro: Here's more, I like your pen name!
Dickens: Whatcha doing? I finally got off my ass and wrote a bit. Nice, eh? http://www.angelfire.com/blues/excuses/
Exis: Cliffies good. *G* Yes, it's angsty... it gets worse, but then it gets better, so all shall be well hopefully.
hana: Yeah, good point... I haven't met too many vain guys though, to be honest. Yep, Switchfoot good. :o)
Joycelene: "Sulking in your filth"? Err... I'll take your advice and not ask :o) Thanks, I'm glad you liked it. You have a great summer as well!
juu no: I'm glad you liked! Nope, never a dull moment... I like it that way. Gives me something to write about. :o)
Klee: LOL, should I be insulted? Yes, it's a chapter--and it's another chapter!! :o) He was a bit too disoriented for the date, I suppose. The first words outta my mouth would probably be something along the lines of "Is book 5 out yet?". No, I'm kidding... Probably "Where the hell am I?" There. That works. Yes... I do need to send you Phoenix Ashes (the Counting Blue Cars story).
MidnightDragon: Thank you, I'm glad you like it so far!
Morien Alexander: Thanks for understanding :o) I'm a pain in the ass when it comes to wanting to read new chapters, sorry.