Title: That Damned Clock
Draco/Ron love. Angsty. Probably a detriment to society, but I couldn't help but write it. Sorry, ya'll. Review if you like, anything is good but flames. Helpful hints on how to write better are always appreciated.
- Denotes thought change. It's all written through Draco's mind, flip-flopping all over. I hope it's not too bad...
--Damn that clock.
I wanted it to be on the wall for forever. I wanted to be so old my bones would break as I turned my head to look at it. And I would see two hands to the clock, one with your name and the other with mine, both pointing to 'home.' And our own hands would drift across the table and join, as you curved your lips into that shy smile I adore. But no. Before I was old and crippled and happy you had to leave.
-
Damnit Draco... I just can't do this anymore. We can't do this anymore. Nothing is working out like it should have... I'll be back in a few days to gather up my things. Until then, I... Well, I think it would be best if we stayed away from one another.
Fine. Go off and leave. You don't even need to come back. I'll send you your things, what little you have.
Fine.
-
That fucking clock, I looked at it as you left. 'Traveling.' That wasn't what you were doing. You were leaving. You were gone. Gone to 'Harry's and Hermione's.' You stayed a few days there, never moving. I hope you were crying. I hope you were laying in bed and sobbing because your heart was breaking. I hoped that you realized you needed me. You loved me. You still do. You would realize this and you'd start 'traveling' again and then you would be home, in my arms.
But you never moved. I never moved. I sat and watched the clock for hours, days. I stayed in the same place for weeks. I was afraid to move and go do anything, because I was sure that as soon as I left, you would come back in. Into our home and my life. After a few years I realized that while you moved around, you would never come back.
Why not, I would wonder. Weren't we happy? Didn't we work well together? Weren't we the kids that so foolishly thought that we could make it through anything? I left my family, my friends, my other life for you. Didn't that prove something? Did you need me to scream my love for you? How could you need a declaration of love when all my actions were focused on you and your happiness? Were you embarrassed of me, of us? Is that why you left, is that why you didn't show the world our love in the first place?
-
And it was so sad when I finally had to leave, Draco. You wouldn't believe it, I almost didn't. The whole family gathered outside our home and waved and hugged me off. It was really sweet, even the twins controlled themselves enough to not put a joke in my pocket as they hugged me good- bye. I think they did bewitched my suitcase, though. It won't stop singing.
We stopped to laugh as we thought of said suitcase, held closed under belt and buckle beneath our bed. My finger slowly danced across the table and met yours, and you continued the story with an even sweeter smile on your face.
Anyway, Mum wouldn't stop crying as she hugged me. I don't know why she's so protective, she knows I'll be rooming with someone. But before I actually left she gave me a clock.
A clock?
Yea, like the one we have in our kitchen. She gave me some hands too, to mark as needed because she never actually found out who you were. It's really sweet of her.
You opened a large package and brought out the largest, gaudiest clock I'd ever seen.
She gave me a ton of hands too... She thinks I have tons of roommates. Doesn't know how else I'd be able to afford an apartment.
You tinged a little, and I tightened my grip. Don't worry about that. We'll make it.
Yea... I know. So, want to grab a hand and get this clock set up?
We spent the rest of that day fiddling with that contraption. We finally decided to hang it in the kitchen, just like in your house.
The kitchen is the heart of the home... And the heart always wants to know where it's partner is.
-
I'm glad we took so much time with the clock. I got a certain amount of experience from that. After you left, I enchanted it some more. In addition to 'home,' 'traveling,' and such, I added emotions. 'Happy,' 'ecstatic,' 'morose,' and my personal favorite, 'climaxing.' Your hand had been positioned on climaxing exactly twelve times after I enchanted it. Who were you with? I would calmly muse as my hand slipped to 'seeing red.'
Sometimes I would worry that I paid to much attention to the clock. But I couldn't stand to leave it. I couldn't get rid of it... I started living my life through the clock as soon as you left.
My hand has been dancing dangerously around 'mortal peril' for these last few years. But does it matter? Your hand has been jumping all over the clock, whizzing from 'angry' to 'happy,' bouncing from 'traveling' to- and this hurt me the most- your new 'home.'
The first time your hand rested on home after you left, I jumped and searched frantically for you. I knew you would come back. It didn't matter how long it took you. (One year, three months and seven days.) I forgave you.
As realization came, glass was broken and blood was streaked across walls. You can still see a tinge of faded red across the hallway that leads to our bedroom. Sometimes I glance at it and remember as I creep along that hallway, gone from the kitchen to rest for the few hours I would let myself before I would watch you again. I'd only fall sleep when you were. Sometimes I'd reach out and feel the emptiness as if it were your body. I'd drift into believing that it was you again. But I'd always jerk away. You were never that cold.
-
My eyes are just beginning to register what I see on the clock. While I've been flirting with 'mortal peril' for some time now, you would only graze it as your positions and emotions changed. But something's different. Your hand is pointing straight up. There isn't a sound in the kitchen as you start to waver.
What's happening?
You're wavering...Just a little, barely a twitch. But I see it. I've watched the clock for so long I know everything about it. But I don't know what's happening now. I can feel the fear spill out of me and fill the room, colder than emptiness and much more harsh and jagged as it lays in the air.
You snapped. Your hand fell to the floor with a dull sound.
What... Is this?
I can't control myself... I get up and walk to your hand. It looks the same, it's wood and hard and your name is still there, but...
I try to stick it back on the clock.
It's a mistake.
You're not...
You couldn't be...
This won't happen.
Your hand falls again. I have to sit down. Leaning back in my chair, I hold your hand in mine.
As my hand finally falls to the floor, I follow.
I have nothing to live for anymore. Even when you were gone, I lived for you.
At least when I died....
At least I had your hand in mine.
Oh, Ron....