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Toxic Time	By : beachLEMON Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 787 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Toxic Time
- 1
Toxic Time

___

The bar was fairly crowded, but it was like this on most
days. Same guy with the beer belly and missing front teeth was there in the
corner talking to his buddies again about his cheating wife. Still can�t figure
out why she�d do that to him. I�m thinking of helping him solve the mystery one
day as he belches in my face.

This really isn�t my scene. But it�s become my scene and
that�s good enough. I down another one of whatever-they�re-called�s. Weird
drink names in this place; I vowed to never try the Paper Crate Peppermint.
Something about that just didn�t sit well with me.

This whole place doesn�t sit well with me and this doesn�t
suprirse me. Back in the good, old days, I wouldn�t be caught dead here,
drowning my sorrows in a drink or just savoring the way it burned the insides
of my stomach. Sometimes the drinks weren�t pitiful at all; sometimes they were
about a good time. Like two nights ago, that blonde really knew what she doing.
And it all starts with a few drinks. Other nights, of course, it�s all about
what I promise to forget every morning. Hard to lie to oneself so early in the
day, but I force myself to. It makes my life seem more worthy if I set an
impossible goal.

No, you and I both know why I show up here every other
day. I�d come more often, but damn it, I�ve got some shred of a life left. I
try to ask myself why I do this if you�ve already taken everything else. My
dreams�I don�t dream anymore. It�s just torture held closer to me than it
should be anymore. My happiness. You took that with you like insurance and it
really hasn�t failed you yet, has it? But I still come and you know why. The
only thing ever holding me back is work�and we both know that�s because
Dumbledore would skin me if I didn�t show up. He knows about this�my bar
attendance. Gives his fatherly advice once in a while, but often times he has
this look on his face as if he�s thinking, �I�m talking to a bloody wall.�

I guess he is. Because I still come here. And it�s always
with a bitter smile. I never pass out, you know that. And you know why, too. I
always stay to see the main event of the evening. Something that feels like my
heart getting beat down with a hammer. The grande finale.

When you walk in with him.

I saw you there

Your long brown hair

Falling on your face the way it used to fall on mine

At one time

A long time ago

I still remember everything you said to me that night

See? You know why I come here. You have my eye on me from
across the room like I do on you. We look like retired old security guards,
ready to serve our posts at any given moments just because we�re too old and
stupid to move on. I know I am; too old and stupid to move on, I mean. That�s
my reason. What the fuck is yours? I hate to say it, but we�re the same in so
many ways. I used to love saying that. My girlfriend and I are like this�show
two fingers wrapped together and smile like an idiot. Now we�re more like
this�if my fingers were on opposite sides of the globe. And you�re only sitting
right there�on his lap.

And you�re still watching me. Again, I ask myself, why?
It�s bad enough that you know I come here just because of you. And because of
him. I suppose I owe these semi-daily sightings to your...boyfriend. He�s the
big bar fan, isn�t he? Of course; he must be. I see you every given day that
I�m here; you only take a few sips of whatever he orders. Even if I didn�t see
you, I�d know it wasn�t your idea. I guess you�re getting used to the sting
down your throat now, because every once in a while you�ll order a small shot of
somethor oor other. You never used to. Remember? Not even when you were in your
cute, rebellious stage. Back you first got a taste of the horrendous and
utterly horrific Draco Malfoy. You loved it. You know it. But you never drank.
I convinced you once, but after you tilted your head back�probably faster than
a beginner should have�you scrunched up your nose and stuck out your tongue ask
if you were airing it out while squeezing your eyes shut. Damn, you were
adorable.

Surprised I remember? I wonder if you do. I remember every
one of our memories together. They meant something to me; God, you�re all
that�s ever meant anything to me. And I hate myself for it. Think about it,
Draco�the Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy
fortune, fame, and power has never felt anything for anyone besides Hermione
Granger, someone not even worthy of his gaze. Not that any of that shit matters
to me. Still pretty pathetic that I�ve newer cared for anyone, anything, like I
did for you. You�d think I�d have something else�someone else.

Wait, you did think that.
Remember? That night. Oh...that night. I
know you remember. I�ll forever remember it. If I suddenly got permanent
amnesia from hitting my head on a bloody piano, I know that would still
not escape my hollow memories. I know I�d remember how your eyes were different
that day; kind of paranoid, shifting this way and that way, as though expecting
me to catch on to something that only you held captive. Fool that I was, I
didn�t catch on. You had nothing to worry
about. I had full faith in you. My mistake.

It's too bad and it's too late

You were such a big mistake

Please don't call here anymore

I used to miss you

You had made up your mind by dinnertime. We were having
lamb. I guess that�s what I got for trying to cook adolescent animals. You
broke what�s been on your mind in a mouthful, afraid of my response, I suppose.
Said you were having second thoughts. I didn�t know why. No offense
intended, but I hadn�t proposed to you or anything. We were only nineteen. Both
had our lives. The second thoughts were still there, though. And even more so,
you used that word when describing our relationship. The word that haunts me
whenever I think of your decision. The word that I think of when I think of
you. The word that makes me think without it, I�d be happy. I�d be powerful,
strong, have any woman I wanted.

The relationship was a such a mistake, eh? And now
you�re hap? If? If I had known what I know now, I could�ve convinced you that
I�m bloody wonderful for you; that you wouldn�t find better. Or at least snort
in you face and challenge you to find better. Sitting there on his lap,
watching him down alcohol and smile flirtatiously at the waitresses that pass
him, doesn�t make you happy. You and I both know that. And that�s why you look
at me. Seek me out; hope that because I�m here...kind of with you, it�ll be
better.

It�s not, is it? I figured it out the first time I saw you
walk in here and followed you in like a stray pup off the street. Oh, these
similes that I never thought would be used in connection myself. And you�re the
cause of it. Do you feel any guilt? Any guilt for what you do to me? I only hope
I do the same to you.

I followed you in, thinking I could talk to you, work this
out somehow, prove to you how much you mean to me. Notice I said mean
and not meant. But then I saw you walk briskly with determination and
knowledge across the bar, clearly indicating you knew where you were going; not
browsing. And you settled next to him and began to talk. Then you laughed,
genuinely laughed at what he said, and I had to sit down�at the other end of
the bar, of course�and order as many drinks as possible before the employees
began looking at me strangely and offering this sullen stranger practiced words
of comfort and caution. That�s when I figured out that being in the same place
as you only makes it worse. It warms my heart to see your soft face, glinting
hair, and supple body. It also freezes my blood to see your soft face, glinting
hair, and supple body. I am only pondering now whether my everlasting love has
been chopped into sporadic pieces of coarse, hard rope over this long period of
time which can now be called hatred. Do I hate you? Do you know, Hermione? Can
you help me? Do you hate me?

That night you said you didn�t. You said that you should
in theory, but you didn�t. I blame our whole break-up on the �in theory� part,
and I know you do as well. But for you, that was supposed to be a good thing;
you were supposed to be doing the right thing and giving up your dirty
secrets to be what you always thought you�d be. In retrospect, I see now that
you don�t deal well with change. You�ll never be able to escape it, though. You
didn�t know that before and my mind wasn�t in the position to seek out this
random truth and show you its insides, but it�s true. Even on your �right
track� in life, you�ve still got him. That cheating him who
checks out other girls and you try not to notice, try to ignore that your guy
wants someone else as well as you. The selfish him who has the temper of
a serial killer�one that can even rival my own�and the attention span of a
fruit fly.

That�s all something you�ve never experienced; never had
to experience. What you had to do was what got rid of me for you.

In theory�there�s the principle of your reasoning behind
what you were saying that night�you weren�t supposed to care for me, get
involved with me, sneak around. Although Weasley�s sister knew and apparently
approved, that wasn�t enough for you. You were scared what Weasley and Potter
would say if they found out about us and you broke it off before it could even
happen. That, surprisingly, gave me a boost of confidence because I realized
that you weren�t some long-lost soul clinging to some savior in her life as a
last resort. If you had the strenght to stop something this good before it got
out of hand, then you must�ve been thinking with your right, logical,
know-it-all mind. You were yourself when you decided to get involved with me
and become and us.

You were also in your right mind when you ended it. Because
I was a mistake. We were a mistake. It was all for nothing and I wasn�t
good for anything in your life. You had to be where you were wanted and needed
and apparently I was strong enough to carry on without you. You were acting
like we were a team of astronauts on a mission to the moon. You were backing
out last minute but it was okay because I had enough knowledge and experience
to carry on without you.

Fuck you.

I don�t remember if I said that. If I did, it could�ve
only made things worse. I did say I remembered that night vividly, but
only what you said. Probably because I didn�t say much myself. I was �in �in
shock and damn it, for good reason.

You said all this�all this �I have to because we�re
not supposed to be together� shit�as if you were informing me of my
slightly above-par phone bill. As though you were genuinely sorry to inform me
of it, but really, it wasn�t life-threatening.

Thinking of that careless tone you used, that �it�ll be
better this way anyhow� tone, my original thought comes to mind when I first
reminisced about that scene with a clear, sober mind:

Fuck you.

There's no surfin Colorado anyway

And it's a shame to hear you're happy and you still look at me that way

There's no surfin Colorado anyway, yeah

She never waved to me or said "good bye"

One night she just left me and her behind

But that hardly means anything in my heart anymore. I
could never hate you. Though, you never know; a heartbroken man like myself can
use this time to figure out loopholes to this trick of sorrow and unbearable
grief. There may be a way to ultimately hate you and want to Avada you while
still love you with all my aching heart. I�m looking into it.

While I�m looking at you and while you return my glances.
If I can chance to say it, yours look more needy than my own�and that must just
look pathetic. I know how longingly I look at you and you look back at me even
more longingly so. We must look like separated lovers from opposite sides of
town, torn apart by society and broken to shreds.

Ironic, isn�t it? We look it, but it�s damn untrue. We
weren�t torn apart by society. We were torn apart by you.

I look away and think of this alternative. I still have a
life. If I block out three-fourths of my current existence�the attendance of
this bar�I still had my Potions job. Teaching Potions, I mean. Remember how
hard I worked to get that job after Snape finally got his Defense
Against Dark Arts position he wanted so badly? And remember how we both laughed
about his now increasingly menacing appearance because of his aged face and
added bitterness because of it. You remember.

Well, I got the job. Dumbledore was probably going to give
it to me all along anyway. I figured that out when I looked into his twinkling
eyes. That was right after I asked him why his eyes were constantly
twinkling. That was just unnatural.

I had some competition, I knew, because there were even
some American, Russian and Austrailian scholars applying for the job. But I
worked my ass off for that position. I knew that the Malfoy name and status
meant shit to Dumbledore and I wouldn�t have had it any other way. I worked
days and nights, often studying all there was about anything Snape had ever
talked about. You always reassured me that my teaching degree wasn�t a piece of
cake to get; that I must�ve learned something useful if I was able to
withstand all the studying required and pass with flying colors. I tried to
believe you but worked my ass off anyway. You�d said, �Trust me.� That was
probably the one thing it wouldn�t have hurt to trust you in. But that
alone.

Pansy�s kid�I know, I was shocked, too�tells me his whole
House adores me. He�s in Ravenclaw. I find that oddly unsettling as I would
rather have Slytherin worshipping me, but that�s not their�our��style.
And, yes, Pansy nearly lost her mind when her son was sorted into Ravenclaw,
but I think that at this point in her life she needed that adjustment. She�s
twenty-four now; not in Hogwarts and Houses should be but a memory for her now.

I keep in touch with her now. Some others as well.
Zabini�s well-known in the Wizarding World. Near the �Most Wanted� list, I�m
aware, but not quite there yet. Shit, I�m proud of him. I know you�re not, but
I guess that doesn�t matter now. I can have any friends I want now. This whole
righteous act was gradually making a come-back from the rebellious, membmember
now that I think about it. It was one thing when you used the excuse that you
wanted nothing to do with Voldemort or his associates back then when that
excuse was plausible. Then, Zabini started his business and again you spoke up
with your restrictions for our well-being. That�s one thing I will never miss
about you. And one thing I�ll never have to endure any longer.

mal>

You left. Kind of walked away from the silence. Oh, right,
and you�d already packed. That night, after you gracefully broke my
fucking heart and dreams, you quietly walked to the door and pulled your
suitcase along with you. It was waiting out in the hallway. Another idiot move
of mine: not noticing an irregular placement of luggage in my own apartment.
But I didn�t notice and you were gone without ever looking back.

And that�s fine. I never needed you anyway. I was fine
before. I never needed you anyway.

There she goes

And no one knows

What she does to my heart, still, she'll never know

How we speak

Across the room

Eye to eye she's holding him, holding me soon

It's too bad and it's too late

Was it such a big mistake?

You don't call me anymore

And I still miss you

So I lie. Nothing I�ve ever had before will ever compare to
what you gave me, what we both made for ourselves; the happiest years of my
life. So far. But I try to move on. I guess coming back to this bar isn�t the
best way to get over you and your hold over me, but you�re guilty of the same
thing. You saw me here the first I ever followed you in. If you were truly
happy and never wanted to see my disgraceful face again at risk of reminding
you of your unfulfilling past, you would�ve asked him to go to a
differear. ar. Plenty of them in London.

But you and I are the same in this way, too, you see.
Change does us no good. Only your rash actions upon the belief that what you
once thought you�d do is how it�s meant to be makes us different. I�d
never stand by what is expected of me; I guess you see that now. You saw how my
friends shunned me when I refused to follow in my father�s footsteps and his
bordering-on-illegal pride-and-joy business. Again I thank Zabini for stepping
in and doing something I was too blind and incoherent at the time to do.
Blinded by the wounds you caused me. You should�ve killed me. Or at least those
were my thoughts at the time.

But I made through it without ending up homeless,
friendless, and a drunk. I see the irony, don�t worry. I haven�t lost my mind
completely with you here. My bar experience has only reached a dangerous point
that first night. I passed out because, let�s face it, I�ve never been one to
have more than one or two drinks. I don�t hold down more than five drinks
properly. I�d say I...exceeded that range that night.

But not anymore. I sip my drink calmly as you stare at me
longingly, your eyes big and black with a slight hint of brown around them, the
dark only strengthening their effect on me. Or it was supposed to strengthen
their effect on me.

Every other night, I�d see you sitting either next to him
or on his lap, always turned in my direction and within five minutes of
arrival, he�d start talking to the bartender about something completely
irrelevant to you or check out girls. And we�d begin our staring contest. And
neither of us were ever surprised that he never noticed what was going
on between us. And he never noticed.

Your slumped posture, big black sorrowful eyes and empty
expression would only fuel my heartache for you and because of
you. I�d always wait until you left together and I�d always leave after. No
matter how much you hurt me, I always felt obligated to let you have your share
of me, to never leave you alone when you so obviously craved my gaze while you
were at the bar. And that knowledge should�ve left me smug and gloating,
knowing that you need me even after what you did, but it only left me
willing to cooperate with you silence yet deafening request.

And that obligation always hung in the air; even tonight.
And I�d always wait to leave after you no matter how much I hated
watching you with him, giving him the occasional kiss or lick on
the neck when he�d say something to you. When he�d finally
notice. That you were there.

I slip from the bar stool, stretch my arms overhead,
flexing my muscles, and gather my jacket on my right arm, earning a surprised
quirk of an eyebrow from the bartender who was calmly wiping freshly-washed
shot glasses. I offer him a small smirk and retract it as soon as I met your
eyes.

They held an emotion in them that I haven�t seen after all
these years; envy. Yes, and you can�t deny it. What I saw in your eyes was
something I�d asked myself so many times before that I�d lost count before the
first week was over��How can you move on without me?�

How?

I push open the bar door, pause, then step outside to meet
the crisp night air. Without looking back. And turn left, down the street,
glaring at the bright headlights of moving cars and the dim streetlights glow
on random rooftops. And go.

Remember the first time

God Damn we got so high

She held me so close that I thought that I might break

And know she's a mile high

And I'm on Texas time

She traded rattlesnakes for bunny runs in Colorado Springs

My hand is on the doorknob again and I curse myself
mercilessly. I want to kill myself because I�m such a pathetic idiot. I want to
punish myself for what I�m thinking of doing and for what I�ve already done.
I�d taken a step I never thought I would, I�d walked out. Without looking back.
What am I waiting for? I should be on my way to a dark alley where I can
apparate to my flat and get ready for work tomorrow.

What am I waiting for?

Goddamn it, what am I doing this for?

Shutting my eyes tightly and tilting my head back to get
the sensation of a faint dizziness I pause for the briefest moment and decide
what I am going to do; although I knew that I was going to do this all along.

And I open the bar door and walk back in. And I deposit my
jacket on the empty stool beside me and order up a drink and look your way. And
your eyes light up for the briefest moment then turn back to their monotonous
gaze and I return it.

And think about you. About change. About Zabini. About the
Malfoy name. About the meaning of life at all.

And close my fingers around the chilled drink I�d ordered.

o:p>

___

Author�s Note:

Yes! I really like this one. Thank you to Bowling for
Soup whom are letting me borrow the lyrics for their song �Surf Colorado�
unknowingly. Thanks, guys, you rock. And I beg of all of you beyond awesome
people who are going to review, don�t review just to tell me that
Colorado is not in London, England, or even the entire UK. Thank you. That�s a huge
revelation. Whoa. Let�s imagine for a second that the song had some
actual meaning that correlated with the story.

And speaking of that, this story is funny because I
originally based it on the BFS song but got carried away into a land of where
the story only slighty correlates with the song now. Ah, well.

Muchas gracias for lending your literate ability and
reading. Now lend your other and write a review.
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Toxic Time