GET DRUNK

Get drunk, get drunk

Those truly drunk are lucky

For paradise belongs to them

If alcohol, looks

and lips that drip honey...

Of none of those can cover up man's suffering

If you proceed from being dead drunk to half sober

To fully awake finally

Wouldn't you keep your hat cocked and

Your eyes half closed

To act slightly intoxicated throughout your life?

The flies shivering in the cold wind

Flutter their wings before the paper window pane

Dreaming of dead bodies

Of watermelon rinds in high summer

And of a dreamless void

In the epilogue of my ridicule

I hear my own shone:

"Your too are only buzzing and buzzing

Like a fly."

If I were a fly

I'd wait the sound of a fly swatter

Smashing on my head.

-Ho Ch'i-iang

So here I am one year later. Sitting in a Muggle cafe. No one will ever guess what I am. Nor will most of them even care. I don't even care what I am. Not anymore nor will I ever again.

I was once a Weasley. A poor family with no extra money, and always with second- hand- me- downs.

I am the Weasley that fosook his family for money. Forsook his honour by becoming a lackey to one of the world's biggest suck- up in any form of politics. My brother hates me for hating his best friend, whom just happens to be the notorious Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived. All the things that I am not proud of doing coming back to haunt me. I was fired from the Ministry. My father never even came to see my dishonourable discharge. And so I begin my life out in the Muggle world with no schooling that wasn't from Hogwarts.

How am I going to live?

Even sitting here twirling the coffee stick in circles will help me.

Hmm... I think I'll leave the country. Go on a trip and end up in another country. Work for them, since I'll find no work here.

I lean back in my chair. The world feels like its burning and I can't put a stop to it.

I lost my only job. I lost my only girlfriend. I lost my only family...

What am I suppose to do?

"Hey kid... I hear yeh've been lookin' round' for o' job?" The voice is low key. I look into the dirty and deeply sketched face. The smell of fish and whiskey overfill my senses.

I nod.

"Yeh good at workin' hard. Eh?" He dosen't have very many teeth and its beginning to worry me.

Another nod.

"Good. Yeh can start right now." His clothes look like they had been at one point fine clothes but too many times without a wash.

I get up to follow him.

It is hard work. Collecting the fish and unloading the machines. The pulp, they call it, takes a lot of time. The lumber, is the least of work. I smell like sweat. I've been called sissy and and a queen several times for the way that my hands are not as hard as their own. But I do what I'm told properly so they mostly leave me alone. I like this type of work. It requires all of your attention and non of your strength or endurance is to be wasted.

I hurt after its done. Sore and tired. I like the combination.

"Hey you want to go out for a beer?" One of my co- workers says. Another ruffian.

"Sure why not?"

The bar is the noisiest one I have ever been to. I can barely hear myself think. The beer flows like water fountains. I don't really drink at all, but here I've already had several beer and a couple of what they call shooters. I'm laughing a joking with the men and women at our table as though we've been friends for ages.

More beers the room begins to get blurry. I'm talking to one of the more clean cut Muggels aobut he whole politic thing with the country Sudan. How stupid I find it. Because I do find it stupid. I mean the whole concept about why we as a species have to start and finish a war is completely lame.

I believe at one point I ran to the bathroom and threw up and entire weeks worth of food. One of the guys went in there with me. Mike, I think.

I woke- up in a foreign bed. It smelt like a sort of flower. Someone was in the shower. My head was hurting as though the world was pounding on the door.

I moaned and curled up in a ball.

A tall man with auburn hair and fine physique comes out of one of the doors in a towel wrapped around his naval area. I couldn't help but stare. Peeping out form the top of the blanket covers.

He laughed a rumbling laugh.

"Well a good moring to you Percy. I made some coffee. Bit cold now." I have to admit that I like his smile. Especially on that face of his.

I got up.

And so here I am. Drinking coffee as this strange and very handsome man changes. He drops his towel. I stare. Turning around and catching me, I blush and turn away quickly. Laughing he finishes changing.

I suddenly realize who this is. My boss, John Armstrong.

I just scalded myself with the coffee.

"So are you feeling any better?" He's leaning against the door frame. I nod. Lying.

"You better book off today. They'll be doing inspections today." I nod and look for that thing that makes it possible to talk to Muggles over long distance.

"Right by your hand." I nod.

These things are so funny. I mean how the hell are you suppose to use it. "um... you know what. I think I'll be Okay for today. Besides this is the best paying job I have ever been given and so it would be a waste to lose it. Don't you think?" I know that I'm babbling but with standing there and being so handsome.

If he just looked like he did yesterday morning, with dirt covering him in layers. I think with that I wouldn't be staring at him as though he were a god.

He nods. Than comes near to me. "Is there something I should know about you Percy?" He looks suspicious.

Smiling he comes closer. "I thought that when you first became a waterfront worker that you'd be a know- it- all jerk who'd rub it in our faces that we're worse than all your posh friends." His dark brown eyes are shining.

"Maybe it was just the hair." His hand is going though my red hair.

The second time that I've waken today it's late afternoon. I feel sore all over. But strangely I feel great. I'm in pain, and yet I think its lovely pain. Hell, I don't even know what to think. My whole world has turned over.

Someone is breathing right by my ear. Rubbing his legs with mine. His hand on my lower back rubbing. It tickles.

I know that I have to leave. I've never been in such pain or pleasure.

I wait until he begins to breathe deeply than I untangle myself form him and start to dress.

I'm debating whether or not I should leave him a note. I've never done this before, especially with another man so I don't know what to do.

Dear John,

I don't know how to write this but here it goes.

I really enjoyed this morning, and being that it was my first time it could not have been better. Though I think that I'll be sore for awhile. If your wondering I won't tell anyone, being that this will be our little secret.

Anyway I have to go. Family reasons.

Sincerely yours,

P.

Its been two weeks and work has become an asset to my life. Broadening my shoulders, creating muscles where muscles have never been existent before. I have more money than I have ever had before. I have a lover that is perhaps the most handsome and sexually gratifying than I may ever have again.

I'm employee of the month. With friends, that actually like me.

I am Percy, nothing more, nothing less. The world is beginning to shine for me. Its nearing the end of July. John has become rather impatient with me. I don't want to go on top.

"Come on lovely. It'll be okay, and if your not good at it than we'll switch in the middle."

"John, could we talk about this later. I have to do the lift truck."

I'm in London shopping with John since he seems so insistent that I have proper footwear. I decide to let him worry about the shoes whilst I get some rum.

I think I've become rather an alcoholic.

I can't help but look at myself as I pass by a mirror shop.

Long bright red hair that has a dry look to it. Skin that has tanned considerably. I remember the aloe vera lotion John had to put on me. Muscles that obliterate what used to be just a skinny body. Shoulders that have been painfully broadened. Dark blue eyes that look black depending on which way the light looks at them.

I can't believe it. I am handsome.

No wonder I don't look in mirror's anymore. They tell a lie. Because that's what I'm doing in this Muggle world. Pretending to be someone I'm not. Someone who has a lot of friends to drink with, charm enough to become the most popular guy at work.

Whatever.

SITTING

The degree of nothingness

Is important:

To sit empty

In the empty

In the sun

Receiving fire

That is the way

To mend

An extraordinary world,

Sitting perfectly

Still

And only remotely

Human

-Phyllis Webb

The world seems upside down considering that one street over there lies the world that I grew up in. John hasn't shown up yet, and I'm worried that someone will recognize me from that time.

I was right to worry.

"Oh My Gosh is that you Percy?" I know that the world is small. But I was hoping it wasn't that small.

I turn to look into the face of my accuser.

Bright red hair that falls back from the face of a sweet pretty girl. A smile that seems to fit the face perfectly.

Ginny.

I redden. Everyone is there getting of a bus. George, Fred, Bill, Charlie,Ron, Ginny, mother and father as well as two other people that I don't recognize. They're all staring at me with the most astonished expressions.

Fred breaks the silence.

"I thought you got fired form the Ministry." Idiot.

"I did." I sound cold.

"Than where did you get those clothes?" Dumbass.

"A store." I clearly don't want to talk about it.

"...How did you pay for them?" Hmm... I wonder how far I would get if I ran.

"Killed the shop keeper." Ha!That's what they get.

"WHAT!" I try not to but the rolling of the eyes just came.

I told my mother that I couldn't dine with them because I was waiting for a friend.

"You have a friend?" It was Ron who said it this time.

"Yep. And I have a boyfriend." I smiled coldly.

"WHAT!" The shocked looks on their faces is funny.

I laugh. "I've decided that I'm gay."

Charlie looks outraged. "You can't just decide that you're gay."

"Sure I can."

"Oh really. By what reason."

"We fucked and than I realized that I liked it and so I am gay." I say the last part with a hint of sarcasm.

I rather enjoy watching them try and not to scream.

My mother is the only one whose remained calm.

"Dear, you know that I don't like that talk no matter how true it is."

"Yes mother."

"So what is your new job?"

"Waterfront worker."

"Ah, and is it fun?"

"I'm usually drunk so I don't know. Probably."

"...that's great, dear." I can see she's ready to break.

I lean back and start to rock on my heels.

"Anyway I need to go now so I'll be seeing you." I nod to them and walk off. I'll explain it to John later.

I find myself wanting to go home. John called pissed off and told me to go fuck myself form no one.

I told him that it wasn't possible.

He hung up.

I don't think we'll be together anymore.

I fell asleep and woke up to the sound of someone pounding of the door. The rum and beer bottles that litter the floor are numerous and rather embarrassing. The killer hang over that I have, not at all helping the problem.

"PERCY WEASLEY OPEN THIS DOOR. RIGHT NOW!" I know that voice. Its not my mother, but one of my brothers. I forget which one but one of them.

I decide that if they think they can scream their way into my apartment than they can wait until I take a shower.

I like showers they relax me as nothing else relaxes me. The water peals onto my body washing away a day's worth of filth. I start to sing.

TOURNIQUET

I tried to kill the pain

But only brought more

I lay dying

And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal.

I'm dying praying bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost?

My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

Do you remember me

Lost for so long

Will you be on the other side

Or will you forget me

I'm dying praying bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost?

My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My god my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My wounds cry out for the grave

my soul cries out for deliverance

Will I be denied Christ

Tourniquet

My suicide.

-Evanescence

I come out of the bathroom and go into my room to get changed into some proper clothes. Everyone is in the other room.

Changed and cleaned I go into the dining room and wait for them to say what they want to say. Ginny is bending down to pick up the bottles. The rest of them look half amazed to see that I have this addiction. I don't care.

Mother is sitting there in blank shock and father is comforting her.

"Percy. How could you let yourself become like this?" Her voice sounds like she's ready to cry.

My brothers are staring at me as though I were a bug waiting to be squished. Harry Potter is there too. The only one not looking disgusted.

I ignore them and go to the cupboards.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing, and more nothing. I have no food. And no more rum.

"GODDAMMIT!" I can't help myself I'm so pissed off.

"PERCY!"

I turn around and scream. "FUCK OFF!" and storm into my room.

I lock the door and turn on my CD player that John gave me turned up at full. I listen to it while finding one last bottle of vodka.

"...Paralyzed nothings getting through to me

Hypnotized from my surroundings

I wanna be something I could never be

I wanna see things that I could never seeing

Yeah I'm gonna do it again.

SICK OF MY LIFE

I'M TIRED OF EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE..."

I don't know how long I stayed in the room listening to the CD. Godsmack said the CD cover. I rather like the band.

I remember in my delirium that of all the people in my life it was Harry Potter who came in and sat on the end of my bed. I remember putting one of the pills that one of the guys at work gave me into my mouth. I stared at him. Noticing that he had grown beautifully. Handsome. Pitch black hair that was mussed, bright dark rimmed green eyes that shared their pain. I remember getting up and touching his cheek tracing the scar with my thumb. Kissing the wound and whispering thoughts of love into his ear. Saying that he was like an angel and that I could only imagine whom his lovers may one day include. Saying that if he wasn't Harry Potter I would go to lengths to show him that I could be his secret lover.

I remember the sadness in his eyes and the whispered way that he tried to reason with me to go and talk to my mother. The door opened and I knew that I'm too close to him. The screams and calls of 'FAGGOT' overwelm my senses.

I black out. Wake up and I'm on the floor of my room with a a black eye and a sore stomach. Groaning I roll to my side and throw up.

"Percy?... Oh my God PERCY." Its Ginny.

I ignore her. Getting up. And walking drunken pass everyone into the lobby. Father and mother telling everyone to let me go. Once outside I throw up again. But Mike and my other drinking buddies drive by than turn around, seeing me.

"Hey Percy couldn't wait for us could you?" I laugh despite myself.

And that is all I remember before waking up at work. Still drunk, but so is everyone else.

I'm logging so I'm sobering pretty rapidly. I notice that by the shoreline there seems to be a number of people gathered. But I can't give it my attention because if I slip on one of the logs I'm dead.

My feet are moving fast and with a coordination that I have never known myself to have before. The work is hard and pulls at my muscles making my whole being scream out in shots of pain.

It goes on like this for hours.

I love this work. I applied to a logging camp in September. I figure that I could be a worker for all my life. Besides this work pays a lot of money.

Groaning I finally finish. Getting to the cafeteria and ordering a huge meal. I don't care what they cook isn't even real food, fact is I'm starving.

Those people are still there and I begin to realize that they aren't suppose to be. Wizards and witches that's what they are. Come to see their own kind actually work like a real person instead of sitting on their ass.

I continue to eat. I don't know whether or not to go home or straight to the bar. Today's payday so I don't know.

Handing me my check I leave the work place. Only to be bombarded with questions from the wizarding world.

Rita Skeeter.

"...So Percy how much do you get paid?" Urg. God get some clothes that are not for 12 year- olds.

"Alot."

"Is is hard work?" Imbecile.

"Yeah."

"Any chance that you could die?" No Shit Sherlock.

"Yeah."

"Is it better to work here as a Muggle than at the Ministry of Magic?"

"Fuck Yeah!" I can't help myself I'm sick of this conversation.

"....Well do you think that you'll ever find yourself going back to the Ministry?"

"....You mean back to the world of Make Pretend. No, thank you I like to think that I would fit better on this side of the border. Seeing as they control the world and to piss them off is to blow up this entire planet." I smile coldly.

"Besides I'm tired right now and have become and alcoholic as well as a faggot. As my brothers so fondly call me." Acid burning through. I don't care. Let her write what she will. I am Percy nothing more, nothing less.

I'm sitting in my room. With no alcohol thinking about how much in a year that my life has changed. How much in a month it changed again.

Its interesting. Especially when I came home to a snowy owl on my table. Hedwig. I got the letter. The apology and the secret wanting of a reply. With my pen I wrote on a napkin, that I stood by what I said the night before. That if he ever decided to forget the World of Pretend I'll wait here in this Reality for him. With a poem I fondly love.

THE MISSING

She never watched

The morning rising

Too busy with the

Day's first chores

But oft she would watch

The sun's fading

As the cold of night crept

Across the moors

And in that moment

She felt the loss

Of everything that

Had been missed

So tired to that feeling

The spirit sink

She had not felt

Her own heart's wish

-Philippa Boyens

I'm trying to think of Harry Potter. I mean the kid is my little brother's best friend and not gay. I'm not even sure htat what I thought happened last night, his willingness to be touched by me actually happened.

My brothers certainly won't be talking to me for a couple of Mellenia's.

I begin to chuckle to myself at the thought.

Chuckle turns into a laugh than a full blown out hysterical laughter.

I laugh until it hurts to laugh any longer.

By the time I'm done I'm lying on the floor staring at the ceiling thnking of nothing.

The sound of a door opening and closing.

"Don't you ever lock your doors?" Huh?

"Hardly ever Mother." She's staring down at me.

"You were in the Daily Prophet." Wow I'm famous.

"Really... how great!" Enthusiasm is hard.

"You're coming home with me."

I say nothing. Propping myself up on my elbow staring hard into the face that I've known as my mother my entire 20 years of life.

I nod. Silence I find is my best friend.

My mother packed my belongings and made a Portkey for us.

"Where is your wand?"

"I killed it."