Gifts and Other Misfortunes: The Series

Part 2: Miserably, Draco

7 April, 2021

Granger,

I told the shrink I was happy today– better . Said it was the first good day, and that it'd been so long since the last good day that I'd forgotten how happiness felt. Said I'd cried tears of joy when I looked in the mirror and smiled for the first time in years. I sat in that leather chair and told her how grateful I am to be walking this Earth and breathing and living amongst beautiful people, eating beautiful foods.

She actually believed it.

Stupid cunt. Sorry, force of habit.

Stupid woman.

Because good days don't exist, not without you. Not since you're gone. Every day I get up and pray for one of these so-called good days that I've been promised for over ten years. I pray that I want to be alive today, every single day. Then I pray that my brain didn't bring a gun to our daily wand fight– but I've found that my brain traded jelly-legs jinxes for cruciatus curses long ago.

Some days are better than others.

Some days I'm lucky, and I find the strength to rise from my bed without reaching for a bottle of Firewhiskey– liquid motivation to drown out the voices telling me how disappointed they are that I awoke at all. Some days the voices are quiet and I can turn on one of those spinning discs you loved and fill the halls with soft melodies and time my steps in sync with the percussion. Topsy will make me a cup of coffee and I'll pretend to enjoy it black because I can't sweeten it without your voice in the back of my mind reminding me my arteries can't handle four spoonfuls of sugar three times a day for the rest of my life. Just so you know, I tossed out the sugar; there's none left in the manor. I even trashed the artificial sweeteners because the muggle scientists said those are basically chemicals, and I just know you wouldn't approve.

Some days I'll pick up your tattered old copy of Pride and Prejudice. If I'm particularly motivated, some days I'll even read it. Some days I'll sit on the floor by your favorite chair and trace my fingers over the scribbled notes in the margins, or I'll get Topsy to work the picture box television. Gilmore Girls reruns air at 11:00 a.m., if I'm awake by then.

Some days, Weaslette will show up unannounced with Albus and Lily. You should see how much they've grown, the little delinquents. Albus is already keen on expulsion– if Longbottom didn't owe Potter a favor or two, he'd have been on the first train home the moment he stepped foot in the school. Every time he owls he says he's wasting away at Hogwarts. Kid's clever, but it's probably best he wasn't your Godchild; books aren't his strong suit. Oh, and he goes by Albie; I thought you'd like that name. Apparently it's what his boyfriend calls him.

Lily's in her fourth year, playing quidditch now– Potter won't admit it, but I reckon he's jealous of the girl. At her first game she caught a Snitch in the first five minutes. She's still so shy; baffles me that she's even related to Weaslette Ginny.

I've started calling her Ginny. At least to her face.

I rarely see James though, that one's off at Uni studying politics now– only comes home on holiday. You would've never guessed out of all the Weasley-Potter offspring, James would be the one with the brains, after all the stunts he pulled when he was younger. I think you rubbed off on him, though. He's aiming for a position under McGonagall– wants to be the next Minister of Magic once she croaks. Oh yeah, McGonagall is Minister now– they tried to find someone as qualified as you, but she's all they found. She's not half bad. But she's not you.

Some days, when Ginny's not around, it's Pansy and Daphne knocking down my door– they bring Jean around every once and a while too. Her name's Hermione, but most people can't bring themselves to say it. I try, every once in a while, but Jean's easier– hurts less. She's not good with new people, with her ASD, but she's grown slightly more comfortable with me. She was born in December of 2009, like a little Christmas miracle after we'd all spent months in darkness. She looks just like Blaise, too– he brags about that every time he sees her.