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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter 4
Chapter Five
Chapter 6
Chapter Seven
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| Potions and Addicts |
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| Chapter 5 of Identity |
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“Alex go down the cellar and bring up another barrel of bitter, will you?” “Yeah, two ticks, we’re runnin’ out of change. ‘V’we got any fives in the back?” “Nope, just have to make do. Besides, the punters can live without their change. If you don’t get that barrel up soon, we’ll be duckin’ pitchforks for a month. Now scoot!” Dave shooed him off into the back and to the cellar stairs. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m the one who’s supposed to be in charge here!” Sniggering to himself, Dave made his way back out to the front of the establishment. He rolled his eyes when he heard a loud screech. ‘Oh fuckin’ hell, give me strength, it’s too early in the morning!’ “Sapphire, what brings you here this fine morn’?” She jumped from foot to foot, and waved an envelope in front of his face. “You went on ‘Who wants to be a millionaire’, and hit the jackpot! You’re now a rich-bitch dominatrix, who wants me as your sex kitten?” She thumped him upside the head, but still couldn’t bring herself so speak: all that came out were squeals. ” “You went on ‘Who wants to be a millionaire’ and bummed out on the £32,000 question. Feeling enraged you removed your AK-47 from under that disgusting thing you call a hat,” he pointed at the multicoloured abomination atop her head. If he had known Dobby, he would have said she stole it from him. “And shot Chris Tarrant between the eyes.” Sapphire was bent double now; unable to breathe from her previously obtained excitement, and her recently acquired fit of giggles. “Will you shut up! I’m suffocating here! Div-, div-“ Dashel chose this moment to interrupt. He had been sitting on a stool along at the end of the bar, nursing a pint, and watching Alex work. “Your divorce came through?” he questioned. She nodded breathlessly. “Back in a mo.” He ducked under the counter-flap next to his stool rather that lift it up, and practically skipped down into the cellar. He slammed into Alex at the foot of the stairs. “What are you doing down here? If you fall and break your next don’t you dare sue me!” Dashel however could see the twinkle in his lover’s eye: he knew that both their minds were at equal depths in the gutter. With this in mind he pushed Alex against the adjacent wall, and kissed him soundly. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” “That, was because we’re no longer living in sin.” “The papers came through?” Dashel pressed his body closer, and kissed him again in response. He looked at the man in front of him with an incendiary lust. One that Alex had seen before, but never at such an echelon. “I. Want. You. In. Me.” he breathed. They apparated back to their home, arms and legs entwined to such a degree that it seemed splinching was a very pronounced possibility. If Dashel had known the true extent of Alex’s power, he needn’t have worried. (The following scene can be found on the Home Page) “Daddy, can I have popcorn?” “Of course, honey” “Can I have sweets?” “Do you want sweets?” “Yes” “Yes what?” “Yes please, Daddy sir” She mock saluted “Was that cheek?” Alex raised an eyebrow “No, just a joke” “Good, good. Help yourself, and then we’ll take it over to the counter to get weighed” “And then your father will dump about 8 scoops of chocolate raisins in with it… Because he’s a pig” “Was that cheek?” “Yeah, but you know you love me.” Dashel couldn’t resist sticking out his tongue: A youthful action to follow his childish words. The three were at the cinema to celebrate Alex’s newfound freedom. Sapphire and Ginny had tried to convince them that it would be far more pleasurable to go out with them. Alex, knowing full well that this generally consisted of going to a club, getting VERY drunk, getting VERY naked, and getting VERY lost somewhere just south of Inverness; had declined. They had decided to see a re-showing of the film adaptation of “The Witches”, by Roald Dahl. “Are you sure honey? It might be quite scary.” “I wont get scared Daddy, I swear. Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaaasssssssseeeeeeeee… Please please…” “Oh ok, but don’t blame me if you have scary dreams tonight. Also, never beg, It’s very unbecoming of you.” Dashel shuddered, at this moment being greatly reminded of his father. “You okay Dash?” Alex circled an arm around his waist in concern. “I’m okay, it’s nothing.” He looked gratefully into his soulmate’s eyes, and rubbed his nose against its counterpart. “I love you.” “I know.” “Ewwwwww, Uncle Dave says I need to tell you to ‘go to a room’ when you do that.” “No he didn’t.” His daughter nodded adamantly, and he shook it in reply. “He said ‘get a room’” “How do you know? What did he mean anyway?” “Because it’s Dave, and you’re too young for me to tell you.” As soon as they returned home Alex made his way upstairs. “Where d’you think you’re going?” “Potions lab.” “Why?” “To brew a potion.” “Why?” “Because I’d like to get to sleep tonight.” “Why?” As an afterthought Dashel added: “And what potion?” “Dreamless sleep.” “God Lexie if I snore that badly you could have just told me,” He pouted and Alex’s heart melted. He felt like crying; not because of any sorrow that had burdened him, but simply because it was just so damn cute. “No you dolt! It’s for Belle.” He had lowered his voice to express this point, and looked warily through the portico into the sitting room. Seeing that his daughter was happily parked three inches from the television screen, and thus distracted from their conversation, he continued: “There’s no chance of her getting a peaceful night’s sleep after that film; at least not in her own bed. And I for one not like that idea of her watching.” “She seems fine to me. Come on Lexie it wasn’t really that scary. Although I have to say that if a bunch of balding old ladies advanced on me in a dark alley, I’d probably run for cover. Dirty minds old people have, you know. Alas, sometimes beauty is a curse.” “Brat! And you’re forgetting that she’s only four.” “Yeah, but she’s the only four year old I know who can blow up the boogie-men as she see’s fit. Besides, like I said, she doesn’t look like she’s frightened” “She wouldn’t, she’s got far too much pride for that. Just trust me.” Dashel nodded his assent, and the two climbed the remainder of the stairs towards the lab. Dashel watched in awe as he saw Alex create the afore mentioned potion almost blindly, rhythmically even. Ingredients were not measured with the grand looking scales sitting atop the large stone and marble bench. Instead they were pinched, sprinkled, and practically thrown into a small well-used looking cauldron. He got the impression that this was a very practised and rehearsed ritual. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get it wrong?” “Nah, done this far too many times. I could probably brew it while bungeeing off the top of Mt Everest, decapitated, with bad hair, and still not err.” “We’re full of ourselves aren’t we?” “I’m a potions master, I’m allowed to be cocky.” “You are? Curiouser and curiouser. Let’s see who was good at potions at school?” “Hey you stop that! Your not supposed to be trying to figure it out Dash. Besides, potions weren’t exactly my forte at school. I could put together this little number though. Hell, I wouldn’t have managed through my last two years if I couldn’t. But anyway, after some faffing about after graduation, I moved to the US to study. I found that it was actually quite an interesting subject, and was granted my titles just over two years ago.” He paused to collect his creation into a small purple vile. “Then I went to Russia…” Dashel paused to assemble his thoughts before querying: “What do you mean you wouldn’t have made it through your last few years without being able to make this?” The question wasn’t demanding, or concerned, as that bar had not quite hit home for Dashel as yet. It was merely inquisitive. “I had to be able to brew it myself, there’s only so much of it Madam Pomfrey will give you, before she starts to think that you’re addicted to it or something.” His eyes shifted nervously between his partner and the floor. Concern opportuned this moment to smack Dashel upside the head. “Were you addicted to it?” “Do you want the honest answer, or the one we tell Rita Skeeter?” “The former if it pleases.” “Yes, that and quite a few other things, muggle and magical, which I don’t care to name. I wasn’t deliberately trying to harm myself. You have to understand that. I just had so much going on in my head at the time: I needed a way to escape.” Dashel nodded and decided it was time to change the theme of converse. He could see that Lexie was ashamed of himself, he wanted to reach out to him and give him the whole- “Everybody makes mistakes” lecture; however, he knew that this would probably make things worse. “So… d’you reckon you could give Snape a run for his money?” Looking relieved, Alex expelled the air that had been trapped unwittingly in his lungs. He smiled, “I’d give him a bloody marathon, the man’s got nothing on me.” “There’s the big-headed git I know and love.” Dashel kissed his forehead, and rubbed his shoulders. Silently telling him it was all right, that he wasn’t revolted by him. It was clear that this had been Lexie’s thinking. Some hours later the two were curled up on the sofa, watching television, and stoking one another’s hair. They heard the front door open and shut. It would be wise to question why the two did not make an effort to guard themselves from the intruder. The raison d'être, as Alex had explained following about a week or two of their courtship, transpired from the very strong wards surrounding, and within the house. No one with the slightest bad intention could floo, apparate, port-key, or even set foot past the front gate. Well they could, but every one of their blood vessels would split open. This rather unique property was derived from one of Alex’s innate magical ability’s: to boil blood. Suffices to say they wouldn’t be much of a threat. Alex had defended his reasons for allowing the then stranger into their home on that first night they shared together, by correctly stating that if he had been an evil dark lord then he wouldn’t be alive to discuss it. “Uh, can I crash here tonight Alex? The wife kinda kicked me out again.” Home Previous Chapter Next Chapter |
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