(no subject)
Who? Isaiah Rookwood - Sebastian Savage (Snape and McGonagall too once the boy gets recovered)
What? Drunk and disorderly and out in the Muggle world.
Why? Because it would have been better if his mother was dead.
When? Set the same night as this After waking up in the middle of the night and sneaking out of the hotel.
He didn't fall asleep so much as just drop away from consciousness. When Isaiah crashed he crashed hard but he didn't stay down for long. He woke up feeling just as sick as he had earlier. Snape had fallen asleep in a chair next to his bed and Isaiah looked down at him for a long moment.
He'd overheard Snape asking Sebastian for five minutes with his mother. Isaiah knew what that meant. He knew it meant that while the rest of his mother's 'friends' had forgotten her, had left her behind to rot there was one of them willing to make it stop. Of course he doubted that Snape was going to be allowed near Azkaban anytime soon. But in a twisted way, in a Slytherin way - it was the thought that counted.
Reaching over onto his bed, Isaiah pulls a blanket off and used it to cover Snape with before scribbling a note saying he was going for a walk.
There was a pub not far from the hotel that was on the floo network. The owner was a Squib who let wizards coming and going use his floo. He was also nice enough to sell Isaiah a bottle of vodka. He wound up at The Leaky and considered Diagon Alley but there wasn't anything there that interested him and the last thing he wanted was to run into more of his schoolmates. So instead of heading to the back, Isaiah went out through the front door.
The first drink of vodka burns like rubbing alcohol but it acts like some sort of anti-freeze and Isaiah almost feels like he can breathe again. By the time he's halfway through the bottle he's reached a wonderful kind of numbness that starts at his lips and goes alllll the way down to the soles of his feet.
There aren't many Muggles out so late, but the ones that are out are fascinating. They remind him of a time when he was just a boy and his father took him to the zoo. He was having a hard time remembering why that was a bad comparison to make so he just focused on all the new things he was seeing. He spent twenty minutes in a phone booth wishing he knew someone with a telephone so he could call them because drunk dialing is a universal urge.
He stumbled a little bit when he left the phone booth and finished off the rest of his bottle. It was very sad. A sad sad empty bottle. But there was a store! And Isaiah was very proud of himself for having mastered Muggle money. except he maybe didn't need to tip the man that sold him more alcohol but it seemed like the nice thing to do before he continued on his way.
Isaiah walked until his legs got tired. He took several random turns and wound up in a dead end alley with only a couple of cats, a dumpster and a parked car for company.
Car. Vehicle. Automobile.
Once when he'd been a 1st Year Isaiah had found a magazine in the library obviously left behind by a muggle born. Inside the magazine was nothing but cars. Cars in every shape and color and kind. More cars than Isaiah had ever imagined. He'd kept it for three years. Read it so many times the pages were floppy and some of the sheen was off the paper and there were permanent creases from being folded in half and stuffed under one of the floorboards of his room.
Cars.
Unfortunately the magazine didn't say anything about how to operate them. But Isaiah was smart and he had an idea. If he were Gryffindor he'd just get in the car and try and make it go. A Ravenclaw would check out all the books they could find and study cars until they were an expert. Hufflepuffs...he's not entirely sure what a Hufflepuff would do, but it would probably involve boosting the car's self-esteem and making it want to move. But Slytherins...they dissected things. Learned what they could then applied it to get what they wanted and Isaiah was a very good Slytherin.
The wheels came off first. The doors were next. He got rid of the hood and was sitting on the curb carefully inspecting the engine on the ground in front of him when the car's owner arrived.
Everything sort of started to run together after that. There were words and threats and grabbing and Isaiah drew his wand but somehow it got lost between the curb and being introduced face first into the brick wall. He laughed. It could have been the vodka, or the adreneline or insanity creeping up on him but he laughed like hell all through the thorough beating he got. He laughed.
Until the Muggle Police Officers showed up.
Laying on the bench in his cell, Isaiah held a thin towel that was wrapped around a bucket full of ice over his face and wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do now?
He didn't think he could convince the nice officers to go back and look for his magic wand. So he lay with his head back tasting copper and vodka in his mouth. He thought of what Snape and McGonagall would do if they found him and decided that he was probably better off right where he was.
What? Drunk and disorderly and out in the Muggle world.
Why? Because it would have been better if his mother was dead.
When? Set the same night as this After waking up in the middle of the night and sneaking out of the hotel.
He didn't fall asleep so much as just drop away from consciousness. When Isaiah crashed he crashed hard but he didn't stay down for long. He woke up feeling just as sick as he had earlier. Snape had fallen asleep in a chair next to his bed and Isaiah looked down at him for a long moment.
He'd overheard Snape asking Sebastian for five minutes with his mother. Isaiah knew what that meant. He knew it meant that while the rest of his mother's 'friends' had forgotten her, had left her behind to rot there was one of them willing to make it stop. Of course he doubted that Snape was going to be allowed near Azkaban anytime soon. But in a twisted way, in a Slytherin way - it was the thought that counted.
Reaching over onto his bed, Isaiah pulls a blanket off and used it to cover Snape with before scribbling a note saying he was going for a walk.
There was a pub not far from the hotel that was on the floo network. The owner was a Squib who let wizards coming and going use his floo. He was also nice enough to sell Isaiah a bottle of vodka. He wound up at The Leaky and considered Diagon Alley but there wasn't anything there that interested him and the last thing he wanted was to run into more of his schoolmates. So instead of heading to the back, Isaiah went out through the front door.
The first drink of vodka burns like rubbing alcohol but it acts like some sort of anti-freeze and Isaiah almost feels like he can breathe again. By the time he's halfway through the bottle he's reached a wonderful kind of numbness that starts at his lips and goes alllll the way down to the soles of his feet.
There aren't many Muggles out so late, but the ones that are out are fascinating. They remind him of a time when he was just a boy and his father took him to the zoo. He was having a hard time remembering why that was a bad comparison to make so he just focused on all the new things he was seeing. He spent twenty minutes in a phone booth wishing he knew someone with a telephone so he could call them because drunk dialing is a universal urge.
He stumbled a little bit when he left the phone booth and finished off the rest of his bottle. It was very sad. A sad sad empty bottle. But there was a store! And Isaiah was very proud of himself for having mastered Muggle money. except he maybe didn't need to tip the man that sold him more alcohol but it seemed like the nice thing to do before he continued on his way.
Isaiah walked until his legs got tired. He took several random turns and wound up in a dead end alley with only a couple of cats, a dumpster and a parked car for company.
Car. Vehicle. Automobile.
Once when he'd been a 1st Year Isaiah had found a magazine in the library obviously left behind by a muggle born. Inside the magazine was nothing but cars. Cars in every shape and color and kind. More cars than Isaiah had ever imagined. He'd kept it for three years. Read it so many times the pages were floppy and some of the sheen was off the paper and there were permanent creases from being folded in half and stuffed under one of the floorboards of his room.
Cars.
Unfortunately the magazine didn't say anything about how to operate them. But Isaiah was smart and he had an idea. If he were Gryffindor he'd just get in the car and try and make it go. A Ravenclaw would check out all the books they could find and study cars until they were an expert. Hufflepuffs...he's not entirely sure what a Hufflepuff would do, but it would probably involve boosting the car's self-esteem and making it want to move. But Slytherins...they dissected things. Learned what they could then applied it to get what they wanted and Isaiah was a very good Slytherin.
The wheels came off first. The doors were next. He got rid of the hood and was sitting on the curb carefully inspecting the engine on the ground in front of him when the car's owner arrived.
Everything sort of started to run together after that. There were words and threats and grabbing and Isaiah drew his wand but somehow it got lost between the curb and being introduced face first into the brick wall. He laughed. It could have been the vodka, or the adreneline or insanity creeping up on him but he laughed like hell all through the thorough beating he got. He laughed.
Until the Muggle Police Officers showed up.
Laying on the bench in his cell, Isaiah held a thin towel that was wrapped around a bucket full of ice over his face and wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do now?
He didn't think he could convince the nice officers to go back and look for his magic wand. So he lay with his head back tasting copper and vodka in his mouth. He thought of what Snape and McGonagall would do if they found him and decided that he was probably better off right where he was.