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27 June 2005 @ 10:25 pm
So it begins  

Just, remind me never to wear black mascara again? Yuck. I don't feel myself unless it's electric blue.

In case one has not made it absolutely clear before: Commenting is not a requirement. One would turn off the function, only one is afraid certain people who know who they are would thwap one upside of the head for doing it again. One's head is a delicate thing. :P

As far as ratings go, take it that it all will be mild on the Western Front until I finally nerve myself up to smut. You'll have ample warning when that *cough* comes.

Well ... I liked this yesterday, when I was trying to prove I'm not just a smiley face.

An obituary of sorts

Memories would have been a good thing if only he could remember them.

“Mind like a sieve,” his mother used to sigh. He wished so hard that he knew a way of stopping the trickling sand of memories draining away, like another of his ruined potions down the sink. He wanted the images to stay in his mind, even if they made his eyes prickle and his chest tighten. What would he have if they left, too? Everyone else was gone.

There was Pansy; he could remember her, the first time she’d smoked a cigarette. She’d borrowed one from him behind the greenhouses and coughed like mad on her first inhale. It was stupid, there was nothing difficult about smoking, even at the beginning. Pansy just liked to make a big deal out of everything.

There was Blaise, who could never sit still for more than five minutes and was always laughing. He laughed in the morning to see the sun come up and laughed when logs spat and jumped in the fire. He laughed in the middle of the night, because he didn’t care that everyone else knew that Draco was in his bed.

He’d loved to hear Blaise laugh. Once, Blaise had said, “Draco, you know that humans are the only creatures who kill their own kind?” Draco, sounding bored, had said, “Where’d you read that?” “In a Muggle book,” said Blaise, “I think it means that to be human is to hate. What does that make us if we love?” Blaise had laughed and he’d smiled to hear it, even if he had no idea what Blaise meant. Because of the Muggle comment, Draco didn’t speak to Blaise for weeks.

There was Millicent, who’d had a crush on Blaise from the first moment she’d seen him. She’d told him so, mainly because he wasn’t likely to say anything to Blaise. In return, he never told her about the laughter in the night. It was pretty obvious after a while anyway, but Millicent didn’t have to hear it said right out loud. She used to knit in first-year, horrid mucous-green socks that never matched and never fitted. Blaise, had once said to her that they looked like huge boogies from a diseased Muggle. After that she didn’t knit anymore.

There was Azalea Moon, who kept her long dark hair done in a plait. He didn’t know her that well; nobody did. She used to go off for walks every weekend for hours on end. Everyone knew she went in to the Forbidden Forest because she came back with odd, funny-looking plants in the evening.

The other boys had once dared to ask her what they were; she’d paused for a minute, her white hands spread over the bunches on the table in front of her. With a slow smile, she’d given Blaise a red leaf to eat; within seconds, he’d turned a splodgy purple and stopped breathing. She’d had the sweetest singing voice he ever heard.

There was Theo, whose hands were all burnt from a fire. He never knew why Theo didn’t get those healed, or Charmed away, but in the dim light of the common room the scars glowed silver. He had once seen Draco touch a fingertip to those scars when they were all studying at one table. Theo studied thrown back in his chair, as far back from the books as he could go. When Draco touched Theo, just once, without asking permission because he never did, Theo had opened his hand. The skin there was all wrinkled too and for a second, Draco put his palm over it. Then he said, “That’s disgusting,” and opened his Potions book.

His favourite memories were of Draco because he missed him the most. Draco had been so keen on everything -- taunting Potter, winning Quidditch, charming Millicent because she was the only one who refused to give him sweets. Draco had claimed a chair in the common room and everyone, after a while, called it “Draco’s chair”. Draco would sit curled up on the faded green cushions for hours and hours, just reading. That always amazed him, because books for him were always a confusion and a pain. Draco never failed to tease him about the finger he had to drag under the words as he read, but it was easy to forget that when his face was soft and a book was open on his lap.

He didn’t know what had happened to Crabbe. Oh, he knew what had happened to him, had helped gather up the broken body and seen that it had a proper burial, but not what had happened. Crabbe had left Hogwarts soon after Christmas in seventh year and he didn’t see him again until the day of the green lights. He didn’t really miss Crabbe so much as miss the feeling that they were all complete with him there. Now he was the only one and he’d never be complete again.

Tombstones didn’t say much. They weren’t very chatty, either. Carefully, he went to each in turn, smoothing the lichen away from the engraving. None of them said “Dearly Beloved” or “Much Missed”. He’d seen Arthur Weasley’s grave and it had a huge list of things like that; the writing was so small it could barely be read. It wasn’t really fair. He was only one person, doing the beloved missing for so many. It took up nearly all his time. He was sure Harry Potter and Granger and the other Weasleys, even the widow, were able to share around their sadness. He couldn’t. He was the only one left.

He didn’t resent it, though. Sometimes he missed all of them so much he couldn’t breathe. If his boss noticed him stop working, he’d slap and yell at him. No one minded that sort of thing, down in the abattoirs. Slaughtering was not too good a job, even for a Death Eater.

“Former” Death Eater was what they called him. It wasn’t true. He was a Death Eater because, now, that meant he remembered, and remembering meant he’d be a Death Eater, always. It wasn’t the death of the Dark Lord that had stopped him being a Death Eater, or Dumbledore’s weary face as he proclaimed “Peace for our times” or even the ceremony where everyone knelt before him and the few others that were left and forgave them, just before they stripped them of their magic.

“It’s no good unless they see that you’ve won,” was what Blaise always said, when Draco suggested another half-baked evil plot to them as they got ready for bed. He’d be lying on his four-poster, with his olive chest bare; both Nott and Draco would look at him, Draco scowling but Nott’s hair hanging forward and hiding his face. Crabbe would roar from the bathroom, complaining that they’d used up all the soap.

He’d stop being a Death Eater only when he finally stopped remembering.

finis

 
 
Current Mood: coldcold
Current Music: "The Ballad of Tom Jones", Space & Catatonia
 
 
 
gabbysun on June 27th, 2005 02:38 pm (UTC)
YAY FOR YOU! GOOD FORMATTING MAKES ME HAPPY/
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 27th, 2005 02:50 pm (UTC)
Heee.
(no subject) - scoradh on June 28th, 2005 01:34 pm (UTC) (Expand)
starts with kanyotherknight on June 27th, 2005 02:54 pm (UTC)
Guh. Your imagery has killed my commenting abilities but for mono-syllabic exclamations. Ungh.
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:29 pm (UTC)
Um, thanks? I think! I hope you're not permanently incapacitated.
(no subject) - anyotherknight on June 28th, 2005 05:44 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - scoradh on June 30th, 2005 04:50 am (UTC) (Expand)
(Deleted comment)
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:33 pm (UTC)
Gracias, senor. xD

That reminds me of that line from [Bad username: Men at Arms] -- "falling like a giant oak on its way to becoming a thousand "Save the trees" leaflets." About Detritus? Your theory has merit.
(no subject) - scoradh on June 28th, 2005 01:36 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - gabbysun on June 28th, 2005 01:40 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - scoradh on June 28th, 2005 01:45 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(Deleted comment)
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:34 pm (UTC)
It is. :) I was thinking of being all mysterious and saying "No, tis someone else" but yeah, that would suck!
(Deleted comment)
(no subject) - scoradh on June 29th, 2005 02:04 pm (UTC) (Expand)
kabeyk on June 28th, 2005 01:25 am (UTC)
Aww, darling.x Everyone's writing sad things today (yesterday). Oh, I'm glad I didn't read this drunk last night. Oh he's so sweet in his own horrible way. And Draco and Blaise, ah.

You made me want to hug Gregory Goyle.

Wonderful. Wah.

kxx
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:36 pm (UTC)
I'm exploring my moody side. Considering it's the only side I have, that could prove of Amazonic proportions!

But is it Goyle?!
Mithmithborien on June 28th, 2005 04:40 am (UTC)
Ooh, that was sad but in a good way.

Tombstones didn’t say much. They weren’t very chatty, either.

I liked that line for some reason :)

This really showed the Slytherins in a different light, showed that they are human beings after all, regardless of circumstance or alliance.
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:39 pm (UTC)
This really showed the Slytherins in a different light, showed that they are human beings after all, regardless of circumstance or alliance.

Durn, I was actually hoping to show them as mean bastards. :)
Lord Marmaduke Newbrycatsmeat on June 28th, 2005 06:34 am (UTC)
A plague on your house.
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:42 pm (UTC)
*quakes in fear*
(no subject) - catsmeat on June 28th, 2005 06:08 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - scoradh on June 30th, 2005 04:40 am (UTC) (Expand)
Minnowminnow_53 on June 28th, 2005 12:04 pm (UTC)
I've just got home, and wouldn't even have seen this if Kabeyk hadn't recced it. Sorry for such a brief comment for now; it's lovely. You usually, with a couple of exceptions, do witty, but actually I think you do yearning and mysterious (and bitterly ironic) at least as well. That is a great compliment.

^_^xx
every Starbucks should have a polar bear: Shrek -- omg wtfscoradh on June 28th, 2005 12:45 pm (UTC)
I was discussing the semantics of "ironic" v "sarcastic" the other week; we decided most people mean the first when they say the second. This makes me a completely ironic person. xD
(no subject) - minnow_53 on June 28th, 2005 02:00 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - rainspots on June 29th, 2005 03:19 pm (UTC) (Expand)
moocowmisconstrue on June 28th, 2005 12:50 pm (UTC)
Pansy just liked to make an a big deal out of everything.
Forget to delete the "an?" I really love the imagery of this paragraph and how it describes Pansy so well.

Blaise had laughed and he’d smiled to hear it, even if he had no idea what Blaise meant.
Who is the speaker here? I thought it wasn't Blaise, but is it? It's a Slytherin, that much I know, but who?

Millicent knitting = brilliant

With a slow smile, she’d given Blaise a red leaf to eat; within seconds, he’d turned a splodgy purple and stopped breathing. She’d had the sweetest singing voice he ever heard.
Now it feels like maybe Blaise again?

Okay, after you told us about Crabbe I realize it's Goyle and *sniffs* I heart Goyle and the not chatty tombstone thing really brings home what it means to be on the losing side. And the whole being a DE until he forgets? absolutely perfect.
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 01:40 pm (UTC)
I did indeed! *has recified*

It's the one speaker all alone, but I was feeling bolshy and did not wish to put a name to him; hence the "he" everywhere. I did my best to make it as unconfusing as poss. xD

Naw, it was Goyle all along. I feel odd now, being able to connect with Goyle that much. :P
Rose: Cat's eyefourth_rose on June 28th, 2005 01:37 pm (UTC)
Wah. That was - painfully beautiful, really. I think I'll go and sit quietly in a corner for a while now...
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 28th, 2005 01:41 pm (UTC)
Ah, don't! Go read something nice and amusing. :) This was only messing about, anyway.
amazing vaguely humanoid armadilloperson: Murraycryptid on June 28th, 2005 08:42 pm (UTC)
Your ability to write serious matches your wit. This is lovely. Structure, narration, the works. Hurrah for undemonising the oft-demonised. I feel sorry for Millicent.

(D/B makes so much more sense than D/H. Just had to say it.)
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 29th, 2005 01:30 pm (UTC)
I feel sorry for Millicent.

Thank gawd someone picked that up!!

D/B -- I know. Even as I wrote it I felt it.

Slytherin OTP, def. :)
let's keep it casual: Andrew Destiny [poisonfruit]casually on June 29th, 2005 12:25 am (UTC)
I've been a lurker in your journal for a while, checking in now and then to read up on the Terry/Michael (which I love by the way, I'm trying to make commenting more a habit).

I liked this a lot, you have such a talent for writing in a flow of things that a reader would be entranced to follow. And the descriptions, no matter how little is given or whatnot, they stand out. You are fast becomming one of my favorite writers. ^^

I'll be adding you, so that I don't miss out on any fics that are posted. Hopefully you'll add me back in time?
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on June 29th, 2005 01:59 pm (UTC)
*restrains urge to do a Sir William Lucas*

*fails*

We are all free and easy here, m'dear! There's no need to be so polite, you can say stuff is shite. ;)

If you can put up with the fact that I'm the lj version of an overly-enthusiastic, incontinent Labrador puppy who is quite possibly piddling in your shoe, you're very welcome. As for the writing, you should go by way of kabeyk, cynicalpirate, spectacular or sarahtales ... put me to shame, as most people do. :)

... see? All I meant by this was *friends back*. Urr.
Caitcoralia13 on July 4th, 2005 05:09 pm (UTC)
That was beautiful. That is what's going to make me cry when any of the Slytherins die in the books. Through those brief, wonderfully understated, Goyle-ish memories, I came to really feel for them, and regret their loss. Well done.
every Starbucks should have a polar bearscoradh on July 6th, 2005 01:42 pm (UTC)
Yes I am a little disturbed at connecting so deeply and well with Gregory Goyle. o.O But I'm glad you liked it. I quite like what I'm writing nowadays. Generally the things I hate got more f/b, though. Irony's a bitch. xD
(no subject) - coralia13 on July 7th, 2005 09:32 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - scoradh on July 8th, 2005 12:58 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - coralia13 on July 8th, 2005 01:49 pm (UTC) (Expand)