Silver Ties

The rest of the night and Saturday was spent on my kitchen floor accompanied by four bottles of Jack from my stash along with a joint I luckily saved from my birthday.

I barely made it home on time last night. I couldn’t bring myself to care too much, a common occurence lately. I drank all night and all day. Never experiencing a hangover because I just never stopped.

When there was a knock at my door I stumbled over to the door and cracked it open, not knowing what to expect.

“Shit mate, you look a mess.” Miles muttered, eyes wide in disbelief. Annie behind him with a matching expression, reeking of shock and worry.

I looked down at myself, practically naked save for boxers.

“Can we uh– how ‘bout we reschedule…?”

I didn’t even know it was Sunday but that would explain why it got dark twice.

“No,” they said in unison, Miles pushed the door open and Annie followed him in, plugging her nose.

“Gods, it reeks of weed,” She grabbed my arm and pulled me down to her level. “Are you high?”

“Drink.” I shook my head and then frowned. “Drunk.”

She groaned and then flicked her wand and all the windows flew open. Miles was observing my stash of alcohol, or lack thereof, three mostly empty bottles strewn about the kitchen and floor.

“Mate… what the hell happened?”

I shrugged and Annie shook her head and summoned her bag, she stuck her arm in and moved it around until she found what she wanted. She pulled a small vile out and I shook my head as she approached me.

“No– no.”

“Yes Mattheo, this is absurd.” She cornered me in the kitchen and I kept shaking my head.

“You guys should go– just go. Tell Barlowe I quit–”

“–What? Mattheo what the hell is going on?”

Miles came over and shook his head. “You can’t quit mate, that’s not– it's a contract. This gets you out and keeps you out, if you just quit you’ll go back to azkaban.”

“...I don’t care.” I whisper. I sink to the floor and feel the corner of a cabinet scrape my back.

‘I know that’s not true, you’ve been working so hard.” Annie kneels down next to me and tries to meet my eyes.

“Whatever this is— you’ll get past it, alright? We’ll help you.”

Annie nodded. “We’re always gonna be here for you.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

“None of it matters.” I shook my head. “I don’t deserve any of this I—I don’t— I've ruined so many people’s lives.” My vision got blurry and I dropped my head into my hands.

Annie was on me in a moment, pulling me into her arms and holding on tightly.

“Don’t say that Mattheo— of course it matters. You matter— you mean so much to us,” Her own voice wavering. “You did everything you could— he made you Mattheo you didn’t have a choice. You were a kid.”

I shook my head and silently cried into her shoulder.

We sat there for I don’t know how long. Long enough for me to calm down and eventually agree to taking the sober up potion and for Miles to get me dressed.

Before I could stand they made me drink two glasses of water and then they helped me over to the couch where I was forced to eat the lunch they brought.

After a while Miles had put on my record player and sat on the arm of the couch across from me, a troubled look on his face.

“Is this because of Ramona? Did she do something?”

Annie was sitting next to me and held a pillow in her lap to stop her from grabbing me again.

“No, no I just—” I laughed a little. “I met this girl at a muggle cafe and she— she was flirty and nice and Arthur had been buggin’ me about getting a girlfriend, real or fake. So I asked her out after I saw her again and— and so we went out -–umm— Friday and it was fine.” I shrugged, staring at the floor, still trying to make sense of it all. “It was fun for a bit but she was pretending the whole time? She wasn’t a muggle and she knew me and she was— it was like she crafted the whole thing— pretended to be into me pretended to be nice— just to corner me and tell me how my— he killed her family and I was there and I just— I don’t even know.”

They both look mortified by the news and beyond shocked.

“And she was right– I don’t remember her or her family because he did that so many times and he’d drag me along to every single one— and none of this would’ve happened if I didn’t tell Ramona that I loved her— I never would’ve asked —”

“What?!” Miles nearly fell off the couch and Annie gasped and tossed the pillow aside. “No!”

“So that’s what happened when she took you home? Fuck, man.”

“I… yeah.” I grimaced. “It was stupid— I’m so fucking stupid.” I dragged my hands down my face.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well…?” Miles said with his own grimace.

I snorted. I told them how I was late to curfew and how someone from the department showed up, how Ramona just took care of it. I don’t think any of my friends could’ve done what she did.

I told them everything I remembered about Tuesday night, which was more than I originally thought. I guess more of it came to me over these past couple days, unfortunately.

Annie was death gripping the pillow the whole time.

“She probably thinks I’m crazy now.”

“Right. Now she will.” I looked over at Miles and blinked.

“Maybe Miles should pick you up tomorrow and you can walk together?” Annie looked between the two of them and Miles nodded.

“No I– I’ll go. It’s fine.”

“I’ll come.” He insisted.

I sighed, knowing I didn’t have a choice. I had said I was gonna quit not long ago. I’m sober now, and I realize that I can’t but part of me still wants to. The same part of me that still thinks I have a shot with Ramona.

The stupid part.

And unfortunately the part that gets most of my attention.

I want what I can’t have, and I feed myself delusions until I think I can make them a reality. Being with Ramona, having the job I want— I’m not sure what that even is— being happy, having a normal life, not being hated.

They’re all delusions.

My reality is the exact opposite of all of that. And I’m just going to have to try my best to be okay with that.

_____________________________________________________________

After ranting to Arthur about Lori and Josephine and Ramona I downed the tea and leaned back in the chair, avoiding his eyes.

He was quiet for a long while, sipping his tea slowly and sat comfortably in his scratchy looking chair.

“Happy belated birthday.”

I smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath and set his tea cup in its matching saucer. He met my eyes again and smiled. “What next?”

I paused. “Huh?”

“What will you do next?”

“Shouldn’t you be telling me? Isn’t that the whole point of me coming here?”

He shook his head. “My job is not to tell you how to live your life, I’m simply here to guide you.”

“So guide me.” I stared back at him bewildered.

“I have.”

I blinked. “... you still want me to fake a relationship? After all that you still think it’s a good idea?”

“I do.”

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. “I can’t. I tried and it went as bad as it could have.”

“I disagree.”

I groaned and refrained from getting up and walking out. I took a deep breath and scrubbed my face before looking back at him.

He smiled. “Maybe you could ask a favor from a friend.”

“I don’t have many of those.”

“You have some. It might be easier for you if it’s a friend.”

“Two of them are in a relationship– with each other, and…. I think that’s all I have.” I used to have more I think, back in school. Me and Malfoy were in the same group and most of them stuck with him after everything happened. It’s not that they aren’t allowed to associate with both of us, it’s just less complicated for everyone.

I’m eternally grateful for Miles and Annie.

“A friend’s friend, then. What about that other young boy you work with?”

I look at him horrified. “What about him?”

He sipped his tea again.

“Arthur— no I… you think I should fake date Ramona’s brother? And still expect to have a chance??”

He sipped again. “Might be a good way to make her jealous.”

I blanched.

_______________________________________________________________

Watching Dolohov being brought into custody didn’t feel like I thought it would. I didn’t think I’d really care, or have any feelings on the matter. But it’s kind of freeing, knowing that he’ll rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Knowing that he's no longer out there, conspiring and attempting to resurrect my— the dark lord.

Apparently that’s what they were doing. ‘They’ as in Dolohov, Jugson, and Rosier. As I predicted he wasn’t alone— even better I had predicted who he was with.

Yaxley is still out there, but I know he was involved. He has one of the largest libraries in the magic world. Stacks of his books were found in the same location as Dolohov and company.

Knowing what they were up to made me feel uneasy. I know deep down it can’t be done again. He’s dead. For real this time. But doubts lie everywhere.

“Have anything you’d like to say to me?” I turned towards Graham who was watching Rosier whine about his too tight magic-cuffs.

Graham huffed. “You’ve still got a lot of work to do, don’t go getting a big head now.”

That was as good as I was going to get. I was surprised he didn’t ignore me or punch me in the face. But he actually— in a way— admitted that I had been right.

“Yes sir,” I saluted and turned back to my desk, grabbing my coffee.

The sound of heels made my spine straighten. As she neared I noticed another set of steps with her. I kept my head down, waiting until Ramona passed to move.

But she didn’t.

The sound stopped abruptly and I opened Yaxley’s file, pretending to read, instead just staring down at the words.

“Congratulations guys,”

“Yeah, good work.”

Warrington’s voice, I believe.

“Thanks,” Graham said, his voice was a little deeper than normal and I bit back a smile. “I always knew he was working with others.”

You’ve got to be kidding.

“Oh?” Ramona said. She knew that was a lie, I ranted to her about just the opposite a while back.

“Yeah,” Graham said casually. Like it was no big deal.

“One step closer, Riddle.”

I looked up at Cassius and Cassius only and pressed my lips together in an awkward smile.

The blonde smiled at me. “You’ll get there mate.”

Graham’s eyes flicked between us looking displeased that he was no longer getting the attention from Cassius.

My mind goes to what Arthur said about Graham and I have the sudden idea that’ll— hopefully— upset the latter.

I stand up straight and throw on a charming but casual half grin. “Thanks man.”

Cassius’s smile widens and his eyes flick down for a split second before going back up.

I’m so hot, aren’t I?

Graham noticed, of course and his face twists in displeasure once again. He turned to the blonde and touched his arm. “Let’s go see Barlow.”

“Alright, yeah.”

The two of them walked away and the smug feeling I had quickly washed away when Ramona didn’t follow. I could see her just standing there out of the corner of my eyes, not moving. Why wasn’t she moving?

As much as I would like to know that, I’m not all that interested in actually finding out. My eyes move from Cassius and Graham’s receding figures to my desk. I stare for a moment before I grab my coffee and turn on my heels, walking towards the lifts.

Not today, no thank you— not ever if I don’t have to.

_____________________________________________________

The weather has been cooling down slowly throughout the month, most days were manageable with a light jacket. Today was not one of those days. The wind whipped past my face, biting at my fingertips even as they held the hot coffee cup.

I wanted to go home but there wasn’t much to do and it was only a quarter past five. So I found a bench and sat down, slouching against the building it was in front of.

In my mind this was a punishment; sitting in the cold for a bit, but I didn’t really feel it until a couple walked by, holding hands and laughing together. I glared halfheartedly at their backs as they retreated. Disgusting.

Ramona pops into my head without permission and I take my scowl to the ground.

Deep down I know that I’m not good for her but less deep down I’m selfish, I suppose. Some would say very selfish. I can’t help the way I feel. If I had the ability to control how I felt, I certainly wouldn’t be here—

I would honestly be dead. The truth is that I always wanted to please my father. As much as I knew he was a bad person, and that he didn’t care for me let alone love me, I wanted his validation.

He couldn’t love people, he’s not physically and mentally capable of doing that— but I am.
Sometimes I think that’s a misfortune.

I think I would have killed my mother all those years ago, when he wanted me to prove my loyalty to him, if I could control how I felt. I sometimes think she’s the worst of the two because she did love me. In a weird twisted way it was clear she cared for me. But then she put me through the worst years of my life because she too wanted his validation. I don’t know if I can completely blame her—

“Hey man, thought that was you.”

I snap out of my thoughts and look up, expecting to see Miles or Graham, maybe even Cassius.

But it’s Anus, and it’s smiling at me.

He sits next to me before I can really respond with something more than an instant disgust in the form of a nose scrunch.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.” He says casually, like we’re friends.

I sip my coffee and look the opposite way of him. I was already punishing myself, what the hell is this? Did Ramona tell him what happened— that I confessed my love to her and got shut down? And what— now he’s feeling all high and mighty and ready to rub it in my face that his girlfriend is loyal?

Man, fuck him.

He chuckles. “You’re quite hard to catch, being on probation and all— speaking of, heard you broke it the other night?”

You heard so why the fuck are you asking me?

“How’d you get outta that one, huh?”

You girlfriend showed her fucking boobs to the Auror just for me pal. Bet she hasn’t done that for you. I don’t say that, I don't say anything, but man do I wanna.

“Suck the officer off when he got to your flat, maybe? I remember hearing rumors about your… activities in school.” He scratches his jaw like he’s just asked about paperwork and not accused me of giving a blowjob for my freedom. “Not judging, I’d actually prefer if you completely leaned that way.” He chuckled.

I refrain from choking on my coffee before finally turning back to him.

“Why?” I smirk. “You interested?” Not an amazing quip but it was all I could munster from deep within my shivering, wilted soul.

His lip curled but I continued before he could get a word out.

“Thruples aren’t really my thing but if you and ‘Mona want me, I'm sure we can work something out.” The look on his face makes it all worth it. This interaction and any physical pain my words might cost me in a few seconds.

But Acorn doesn’t throw a fist my way, instead he just forces another laugh that makes me roll my eyes. He does not have the art of indifference mastered quite like I do. It’s honestly pathetic and hard to watch, but points for trying, very few but points nonetheless.

“What’s this obsession you have with her? She’s hot, obviously, but I mean, she’s no Parkinson.” He chuckled.

My grip on my coffee tightens.

“Do you enjoy futile chases? Is that your thing maybe? Women who aren’t interested?” He laughs again and it’s like nails on a chalkboard, loud in my ears, rattling against my brain.

“Because she’s not, mate.” He adds, in case I didn’t know that’s what he was getting at. “Don’t you think she’d be with you if she was? She’s a smart girl and she knows what she wants and what she doesn’t.”

He doesn’t stop there. Why would he when he’s on such a roll?

“She’s only entertaining this idea of yours because she feels bad for you. That’s why she talks to you, why she lets you follow her around like a puppy— somehow she looked at all the shit in your life, and concluded that you were the victim.” He laughed, genuinely this time. “Women are so fucking fickle.”

He stood and slapped my shoulder as I stared at the sidewalk, watching as the sudden light rain darkened the sidewalk. “Lay off my girl, yeah? I’d hate to-– well I’d actually love to kick your ass.” The amusement in his voice was palpable. I didn’t have to look at him to know he cheesing so big.

I’m just getting well and truly shit on lately, and I’m starting to grasp that this is probably what the rest of my life is going to look like. The thought makes my chest ache and I’m suddenly feeling the urge to bash Apricot’s face in and then be arrested and then be executed for my “hostility” and finally be put to rest. Maybe Josephine was right.

By the time I’m able to lift my head he’s long gone and I’m soaked to the bone.