Chapt. 1 of Get Drunk
T: Get Drunk
C:8
S:Percy's a drunk
P:HP/PW
R:R (though I don't pay attention to the whole N17)
Sp: OOPT
-----------------------------------------------------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. Where
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 money, and always walking around in hand- me- downs.
I am the Weasley that forsook 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. Perhaps his retribution was that, 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?
Not that sitting here twirling the coffee stick in circles, will help me.
Hmm. I think I'll leave the country. Go on a trip ending up in another country. Work for them, since I'll find no work here.
I lean back in my chair. The world feels like it's 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. 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 doesn'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; unloading the
machines. The pulp, they call it, takes the most of time.
The lumber is the least of work. I smell like sweat.
I've been called sissy 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 none of your strength or endurance is to be
wasted.
I hurt after it's 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 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 cleaner cut Muggles about the whole politic thing with the country Sudan. How stupid I find it.
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 morning to you Percy. I made some coffee.
Bit cold now.” I have to admit that I like his smile.
I got up.
And so here I am. Drinking coffee as this strange but
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. It is my boss, John Armstrong.
I just scalded myself with the coffee.
“So are you feeling any better?” He's leaning against
the doorframe. 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
supposed 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 wakened today it's late
afternoon. I feel sore all over. But strangely I feel
great. I'm in pain, and yet I think it’s a lovely sort of 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 is on my lower back. 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 a while. 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.'
------------------------------------------------
It has 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, who actually like me.
I am Percy, nothing more, and nothing less. The world is beginning to shine for me. It's 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 you're 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, which 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 almost handsome.
No wonder I don't look in mirrors anymore. They tell a lie. Because, it is a lie that I am living 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?” Is it any of your business?
“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!” I do believe that they never thought of the possibility.
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'm 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 from now on.
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 hangover that I have, not at all helping the
problem.
“PERCY WEASLEY OPEN THIS DOOR. RIGHT NOW!” I know that
voice. It's 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 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 the
only one not looking disgusted.
I ignore them and go to the cupboards.
Nothing. Nothing. 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!” storming into my
room.
I lock the door and turn on my CD player that John gave
me. I listen to it while finding one
last bottle of vodka.
“...Paralysed 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 just whispering words 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 weren'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' overwhelm my
senses.
I black out. Wake up and I'm on the floor of my room
with a black eye and a sore stomach. Groaning I roll
to my side and throw up.
“Percy?... Oh my God PERCY.” It's Ginny.
I ignore her. Getting up. I walk past everyone, in only the way that the drunks can do. Father and mother telling everyone to just 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 with the intentions of
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 supposed to be here. 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. I hate the way that the woman forgets to dress her age.
“A lot.”
“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, 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.” The words are like acid burning through my stomach. I don't care. Let her
write what she will. I am Percy nothing more, nothing less.
I'm sitting in my room. With sober thoughts about how dramatically in the space of a year my life has changed. How much in
a month it changed again.
It's interesting. Especially when I came home to a snowy owl on my table. Hedwig. I got the letter. An apology. I remember once someone saying to me that it is rare for one to write a letter without wanting 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 that 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 Millennia'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 breathe.
By the time I'm done I'm lying on the floor staring at
the ceiling thinking 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.”
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