Chapter 1 : Bed of Roses
| ||Rating: 12+||Chapter Reviews: 7|
Background: Font color:
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The lyrics belong to Bon Jovi's Ė Bed of Roses
England felt far away today. Draco Malfoy was sitting on a worn stool, his usually neat appearance disheveled, his blonde hair hanging in his eyes and his shirt was wrinkled looking like heíd slept in it. A half empty bottle of Vodka stood on the old piano in front of him the cap was gone somewhere on the dirty floor.
The cold and bleak morning light seeped through the dark curtains making Dracoís headache worse. A wrinkled picture lay beside the bottle on top of the piano showing a waving and smiling girl. He had spent the night holding the old photo wishing for the girl to be there. Well, not the whole night. Some girl, (Sandra? Sarah? Sophie?) Had been there he remembered and groaned. He couldnít remember if she had left yet or not. He couldnít care less. Women came and went in his bed as always. The girl in the picture hadnít changed that, no, he did his best to forget that she existed at all. It was just too bad it didnít work. For the first time in years he wanted to play the piano again. He hadnít felt the urge to do so for such a long time that his fingers didnít adjust to playing immediately and he brought some clashing tones out of the instrument. Soon enough the melodies were flowing out fluently and effortlessly, filling the room.
ďYou know, Ginny I have a feeling this will be over soon. For once I actually believe in Potter. Heís gonna kill Voldemort and we can start over. And I wonít need to hide in Russia anymore,Ē he told the picture, never missing a beat in the melody he was playing.
Sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano
Trying hard to capture the moment this morning I don't know
'Cause a bottle of vodka's still lodged in my hand
And some blonde gave me nightmares; I think that she's still in my bed
ďItís funny, really, you and me. A Malfoy and a Weasley. But the thing is, Ginny that you make me believe in things. Like Potter for example. Like love, feelings and such. I never craved it before I knew about it and now I want it every moment of the day when I canít have it. You who are so perfect have turned me into a wreck. I wake up every morning with hangover and a new woman beside me. I canít sleep, I canít eat, I canít bring myself to do anything. I can just wander around thinking of how you looked when we said goodbye. Your hair was blowing in the wind and you assured me that you would wait for me as I went to hide and you went to fight. I canít fight I can only hide. I donít even have a side to fight for. I could fight for you but I never got the chance to say that.Ē He continued.
While some marching band keeps its own beat in my head while we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe,
About love, the truth, what you mean to me
And the truth is, baby you're all that I need.
ďBut I will come back and you will be waiting and it will be you and me again. I would give you anything you asked for. Anything. A house, a mansion, a castle. A new life. You wouldnít ever again need to do something. I could give you England if you wanted, yeah, even Russia if thatís what you want. I canít see why you would want Russia but thatís not the point. The point is that I could do anything to make you forgive me for everything Iíve done, when I was young, when I was stupid, when I was drunk. If you just loved me again I would beg, plead and bleed for you. If you just forgave me for being a coward I would die for you.Ē His voice was wavering slightly and his vision couldnít be described as crystal clear but the melody was steady and never hesitating.
I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I'll sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as it only goes,
And lay you down on a bed of roses.
ďI was so bloody close to call you yesterday with a Muggle telephone. I thought that maybe it was less risky than sending an owl. Then I remembered that if I so much as whispered your name you would be in danger, as Dumbledore put it. Being with me could lead to your death. The Death Eaters would love to capture the girlfriend of the Ďtraitorí. Still I could have given all the money I own for one moment of hearing your voice. All I can do is imagine you,Ē He closed his eyes and the music changed growing softer, more romantic.
Well I'm so far away
Each step that I take is on my way home
A king's ransom in dimes I'd give each night
To speak through this payphone
Iíll just close my eyes and whisper; baby blind love is true
ďI wonder how long this war will continue. For how long wonít I be able to see you? For how many hours more do I have to drown my thoughts in alcohol? Why have you done this to me? I hate you for making me so weak Ginny Weasley! It was you who made me a coward; it was you who made me see I was one! And I love you for it...Ē His tone had grown soft and the headache he had ignored while playing hit him with full force. ďIíll go to bed now. And Siri or whatever her name is doesnít mean a thing. I will be lonely with her. Youíre the only one who can make me feel warm. Youíre the one I love, Ginny Weasley.Ē
Now as you close your eyes, know I'll be thinking about you
While my mistress she calls me to stand in her spotlight again
Tonight, I won't be alone but you know that don't mean I'm not lonely
Iíve got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend.
He left the room with heavy steps as the first ray of sunlight broke through the wintry sky, illuminating the vodka bottle on the piano in gray tones. Against it leaned a photography showing a black and white picture of a smiling girl. The red roseís velvety red petals stood out starkly against the shadowy background where it lay across the music paper with the heading Bed of Roses.
A/N2: So? Donít hesitate to tell me what you thought! I really liked the ending of this. It makes me want to be good at drawing so I could do a fan art to it with the bottle, the picture and the rose...Well.
Other Similar Stories
by cinnamon ...