Author's Note: Implied Mentions of Attempted Suicide, Implied Mentions of Severe Depression.
Hospital Walls
1 April, 2012
Everything ached. Arms, legs, back, chest, throat. But what hurt most were his stomach and neck. George's insides felt like they were trying to consume themselves for substance. It was enough to make him gag. Nothing came up, but it shot a fresh wave of pain throughout.
His eyes opened in slits, yet the blinding light above had him quickly re-close them. Was the afterlife supposed to hurt this much? George could hear sounds echoing and mixing with the ring in his ears before it subsided. Soft footsteps tapped on hard flooring as they approached.
An involuntary groan escaped him as his body slowly became aware of his consciousness. It ignited a burn in his throat.
"He's waking. Get the Healer!"
'Healer? No…'
More footsteps hastily shuffled around and he wanted to investigate, but he kept his eyes closed. The brightness stung through his eyelids enough.
"Mr. Weasley? Are you with us?"
A crisp voice flooded George's ears. He tried to move an arm but it felt heavy. He only managed to rest it on his chest before giving up.
"'Nfortunly," he murmured. The searing pain from his throat made it scratchy and ragged.
Breathing shouldn't hurt this much. Suffering shouldn't hurt this much. Dying shouldn't hurt this much.
A cool hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist. Firm, slender fingers pressed into the veins at the base of his hand and the room went quiet. George thought he passed back out until the Healer spoke.
"Are you able to open your mouth?"
George wasn't sure if he could without retching, but tried anyway. The air he took in burned and he wanted to close it immediately, but that same cool hand held it open. A close presence hovered right above him. The light that pierced through his eyelids darkened from the person's interference.
"Mr. Weasley, you are currently in St. Mungo's. You have suffered severe damage to your esophagus," the Healer explained in a cool, almost bored voice. "You've also sustained major internal damage with the lining of your stomach."
"'Vrything hurts," George could barely hear himself whisper, but the pain in his throat was nothing compared to the rest of him.
A tilt of his head was a grave mistake, it set the room spinning behind closed eyes. It was then that George felt it, that ever familiar feeling that his stomach decided to not agree with him. The urge to vomit was coming quick.
The Healer must have anticipated it, for George suddenly felt a sting in his arm and the darkness consumed him.
.oOo.
1 May, 2012
George was unsure how long he was unconscious for, but the next thing that he could properly recall was a blond-haired man dressed in lime green robes standing over him.
"Here to harvest me? You know, you can get a lot for a kidney on the black market," George's hoarse voice half-whispered. The chuckle that followed made everything ache.
Expressionless grey eyes looked back at him, not finding humor in the statement at all. He pulled a purple sweet from one of his robe's pockets and George felt instantly sick at the sight.
"Taking several of these Puking Pastilles was extremely reckless. You are lucky to be alive."
The tone was cold and condescending, something that would be expected from the one who appeared to be in charge of his care.
"You've pleasant bedside manners."
"I'm Healer Malfoy," he said with a clipped voice, "I finally flushed the toxins from your system, and based on the extent of the damage inflicted, you have a long healing process ahead."
"I know who you are," George rasped out, "How long have I been here?"
Based on how strange he felt, he had been stationary for some time.
"You were in an induced coma for a month."
"Blimey…"
"I'd recommend keeping your verbal answers to a minimum to prevent agitating your esophagus," Draco warned.
He pulled a chair from the corner to make himself comfortable for the array of questions to follow. George coughed, his throat was dry and scratchy. Lifting his head up to scan the end tables for a drink, he quickly fell back on the pillow with a thud as the room started to spin. Draco offered him the glass of water he sought.
"You alright?"
He waited for George to recover from the spinning episode. "Yes."
"Was this your first attempt?"
What a loaded question. Was willingly fighting in the war an attempt? Was severely injuring himself as a result from the countless experiments and tests made to create products an attempt? What about drinking himself stupid, or sleeping for days, not sleeping for days. Not eating, not doing anything but merely being there. What counted?
George nodded, it was the only time he tried it on purpose. The room started to spin again and it irritated his stomach. Placing his hands over his face, he focused on a fixed point at the ceiling through his fingers.
"I can't– my head, the movement jostles everything."
Draco flipped over a page. "You suffer from vertigo, a result from internal damage sustained from your ear injury. Unfortunately, nothing can be offered without risking a negative reaction with the acids in your stomach."
"Fantastic," George muttered, resting a hand over his eyes.
"What compelled you to use some of your own products to aid your attempted suicide?" Draco jumped right in, quill waiting to scribble a reply.
He weakly shrugged. "What better way to die than by one of our most successful inventions to date?"
"You're aware you could damage your product's name should your own mishandling of them go public?"
George glared at Draco. "Who says it will?"
The blond remained impassive. "Merely an observation, Mr. Weasley."
.oOo.
16 May, 2012
"Your parents are here. Shall I send them in?" the mediwitch offered the stooping ginger.
George had been able to sit upright without blacking out for a week now. The witch kept encouraging him to get up and move around as well to stimulate circulation after a long period of being inactive and stationary.
"No," he responded sharply.
He didn't want to deal with the flood of questions, scoldings, worry, concern, and overbearing doting he'd for sure receive that made him want to keep them at arm's reach. They could ask the Healers about his progress, but he was going to prolong the confrontation for as long as possible.
"I'll inform them. But they are worried about you. They want to see that you are well."
"But I'm not well, am I?" he questioned darkly.
The mediwitch didn't say anything. Instead, she placed a large glass of water, a milky white potion, and a few cups of pureed fruits and vegetables on the end table before quietly slipping away.
That potion tasted horrible, he could barely drink it –and keep it– down every time. Nevermind his soft food diet to top it all off. George knew they were needed for his body to stimulate healing and recovery, as well as maintain energy levels, but it sure was awful.
Draco entered a couple minutes later. The closing door silenced the familiar voices of his family standing outside as they were refused entry. George didn't care how much of a fight they'd make, he didn't want to see them.
"Your physical healing is improving ahead of schedule. A couple more weeks and you should be fully recovered." He ticked off something in the file he always carried. "However, your mental health is my main concern now."
George scoffed, ignoring the flare up it triggered in his throat. Sipping the cool water, he glowered at Draco. "Is it really?"
"It is my job to make sure both your physical and mental health are sound," Draco explained.
He shook his head in disbelief, he just wanted to go home. "What loads of questions do you have for me today, Malfoy?"
Draco ignored the sarcasm. "Let's start with why you are refusing to see your family. They flood the halls daily, and it gets quite… heated speaking to them."
George met grey eyes, he wondered how exhaustive it was for Draco to remain so poised and professional around people he despised. "I can't ask for their forgiveness if I can't forgive myself, now can I?"
The blond appeared surprised that he made such a revelation on his own. "Do you feel like you are able to forgive yourself?"
George's silence told Draco enough, but he waited for a response regardless of the discomfort the ginger was in. It grew eerily quiet between patient and Healer. George fidgeted for a bit and suddenly had the need to stand up. Doing so carefully, he made for the window on shaky legs and stared out at the drippy scene. George hated being prodded for difficult answers, it meant that he was forced to acknowledge things he'd rather keep buried.
.oOo.
17 May, 2012
George decided to take a stroll through the hospital halls early. He needed to get out of the stuffy room and give his legs a proper workout. He made sure it was way before visiting hours so he didn't risk having a run-in with someone he didn't want to see.
Bypassing a room with the door ajar, George noticed a boy who looked a lot like his Healer playing with a deck of Exploding Snap alone. Giving the door a gentle knock to signal his presence, the kid looked his way briefly as George entered.
"Need a player two?"
"Sure."
He gathered the cards back into a neat pile to shuffle them as George approached. "I'm George."
"Scorpius." The boy looked up again and smirked. "You're the one who runs that joke shop in Diagon Alley, aren't you?"
"That's me. You ever been?" George split the deck offered to him and Scorpius sat each pile in front of them on the bed.
He shook his head. "I'm not allowed."
"Ah, not surprising," George stated offhandedly.
"Why?"
"Because I know how your father is. Just seems very like him."
Scorpius appeared surprised by the statement. "You know my father?"
"He's my Healer."
"Oh." The kid placed a hand over one of the decks.
Gently clearing his throat, George mimicked the action. "I warn you I'm quite good."
A smirk reappeared on the boys lips. "Yeah? Well, I've had loads of time to practice myself."
Scorpius wasn't kidding about being good at it, the kid had some quick reflexes. This didn't deter George, however. Their scores were on par, and the small snapping explosions attracted attention in the halls. After a third loss in a row, George called it quits.
"Told you I was good."
"No kidding," the ginger chuckled before he grimaced at the jolt of pain in his throat.
Concealing the painful reminder as to why he was there, George busied himself looking through drawers. Finding three stress balls, he turned to face Scorpius. "Bet you can't do this."
George tossed each ball in the air, catching one that fell in one hand and switching it to his other to catch another while simultaneously tossing the other ball back into the air. He started slowly at first so Scorpius could see what he was doing, but then quickly picked up the pace, tossing a ball higher than the others every so often as he juggled away for Scorpius' entertainment.
The boy was astonished. "What sort of magic is that?"
"No magic, just skill. It's called juggling."
"It's a muggle trick?"
"Yup." George caught the balls and grabbed another. "Think I can do four?"
The laughter that came from Scorpius echoed through the halls as he watched George struggle juggling four balls at first, but then got the hang of it. He then caught two of the four and demonstrated single-handed juggling.
"What is going on in here?" Draco snapped, startling George and causing a ball to bounce off his head and toward the blond.
Scorpius looked to his father, who was staring down the ginger.
"Relax, Malfoy," George said with a wave of his hand. "The kid looked utterly bored when I walked by. Figured I could give him a show."
Draco flicked his gaze over to Scorpius, who was now fiddling with the cards. "It's time for your tests, son."
Scorpius groaned and reluctantly got out of bed and went to his father.
"Tests? What tests?"
He placed a hand on Scorpius' back to guide him out.
"That doesn't concern you, Weasley. I'll be expecting you back in your room," The blond said coldly before leaving.
George collected the abandoned cards and returned to his own room.
.oOo.
5 June, 2012
George was glad to be moved to the Department of Mental Ailments and Health ward when his physical health stabilized. Being in the hospital for three months was making him go stir crazy, but Draco allowed him to return home to gather some belongings to bring back to his new room.
He had snuck in some things from the joke shop he gifted to Scorpius whenever he saw him during his treatments three times a week. Scorpius told him it was for a blood disorder he suffered from, but couldn't explain it much further. He loved seeing the kid grow excited about what George brought him, much to Draco's irritation. Scorpius needed some thrill in his life after having to be prodded and stabbed regularly.
"Hey, Scorp. Take this and put it on your father's chair for me, eh?" George coaxed, handing Scorpius a Whoopee Cushion after they walked into Draco's vacant office.
"What does it do?"
"You'll see."
The boy quickly went and placed the cushion on the chair behind the desk before occupying the other chair beside the one George had sat in. "Now remember, blank face. You can't physically show that you know something is up, alright?"
"Okay. How's this?" Scorpius went from a huge grin to an almost glaring scowl.
The look almost had George bust up laughing. "You're definitely your father's son."
Draco came in and warily eyed the two. Every time he found his kid with George it meant something was going to happen, like the party popper that went off in his face a minute ago. He wasn't pleased knowing the prankster was teaching Scorpius bad habits inside the hospital.
He held up a handful of confetti string, staring at the ginger.
George raised his hands in mock innocence. "Whatever it is, I swear it wasn't me this time."
"The guilty always say that, Weasley." Draco subconsciously took a seat and a very loud raspberry sound ripped through the small office.
Scorpius fell off his chair laughing while George leaned over in painful chuckles himself. Draco was not amused and quickly stood up. The expression on his face barely concealed his annoyance. He grabbed the offending joke item and tossed it at George.
"Trying to kill my son with laughter?" Draco hissed, picking Scorpius up off the floor who was finally calming down.
"Tha-that was great!" the boy wheezed.
"You need to grow a funny bone, mate. You're too uptight."
Draco rolled his eyes.
George nudged Scorpius with an elbow. "Good luck at your session, Scorp."
His face fell almost instantly. "Thanks, I guess."
Draco returned a couple minutes later, staring George down with silent judgement as he sat down. "You are aware I won't order your release until I see improvement with your outlook on life, right?"
George knew, he just needed to broach the subject about his brother. Thirteen years of suffering while trying to avoid the pain nearly did him in, but it was also no way to live.
"Perhaps there never will be any improvement. Ever think of that?"
"Only if you think there can't be." Draco observed George's confusion.
He stood up and paced the room, rubbing his hands over his face and hair. The minutes ticked by, and all he could think about was Scorpius laughing his way out of the chair and the sudden dread in facing his treatment.
"How can anyone go on living when they lose half of themselves?" George finally half-whispered, barely glancing Draco's way.
"It is a figurative and common way to perceive it."
"It really isn't," George snapped back. "No one will ever understand such loss unless they themselves experience it first hand. He was a part of me. Nothing will ever mend it."
The tears that pricked his eyes burned of sadness and anger as he glared back at silver-grey. "But you certainly want to try, don't you?"
"I don't need to." Draco smirked, pulling some parchment from his desk.
"Do you know why I tolerate you giving those terrible joke products to Scorpius? To endure your schemes and pranks? To even permit him to be around you at all?"
George never thought about it. He just saw a lonely kid in a sterile room that he was compelled to entertain so many weeks ago. After learning about why he had to be in the hospital, he felt sorry for Scorpius having to deal with so much pain for the sake of his survival. When the boy confided in him that he never knew his mother because she died during his birth, he felt himself break for the kid.
He wasn't sure why Scorpius was so comfortable around him, maybe he gave off an aura that made him easily approachable. George certainly loved amusing the kid with all his tricks, especially since they were new to him. In the short time he knew Scorpius, he felt normal when he was focused on entertaining him.
"Because I'm a free babysitter?" George quipped.
"Scorpius trusts you, for whatever reason. He isn't the sort that can do that easily."
"Gee, I wonder why? Seems like everyone he knows in his life experiment on him," he said almost scathingly. "Does he ever interact with other kids at all?"
Draco narrowed his eyes and ignored the question. "Seeing him so lively around you has changed my outcome for your situation."
"Why's that?"
"You're right in your element when you're around him. You make him happy," he continued, taking a quill and signing the parchment. "I was once told that, if you can't live for yourself, then you should learn to live for another."
"I did. He's gone."
"Find a new one. I had to, and I did."
George was watching Draco carefully now, realizing that he subtly slipped something very personal by him. The blond's mask didn't crack, however, but he already knew who he spoke about.
"Wasn't the point of your joke shop meant to be the source of laughter and happiness during dark times?" Draco continued. "What stopped it from being that when you faced your own?"
"Who told you that?"
"An anonymous source," Draco said with a smirk. "Just because I can't stand your family doesn't mean I won't gather information from them to help you. It's my job."
Draco offered the parchment to the ginger. "I've set your official release a week from now. I trust that you have found a positive mindset to work within. I strongly advise you to make regular visits, however, just to keep you on the trail to recovery."
George was speechless. Draco was right, he did feel different when he entertained Scorpius. Nothing else seemed to matter when he focused on his muggle magic tricks and sleight of hand gimmicks or demonstrated his joke products he gave to the kid. The desire to see him smile after returning from his treatments was a subconscious goal. No one should have to dwell on something so depressing like that all the time. It reminded George of the true reason as to why he and Fred wanted to open the store in the first place.
It wasn't just for them to sell their groundbreaking inventions and get-out-of-school pranking kits, it was to spread addicting joy and happiness to others. How could he forget the core reason behind their success? His brother's legacy that he should be honoring and treasuring.
He could continue creating and inventing things for others and be satisfied seeing them be happy. He just needed to not forget about himself. The pain wasn't going to go away, he realized, but he could learn to cope instead of suppressing it. A heavy weight seemed to have lifted from his chest. Was this what forgiveness felt like?
For the first time in a long time, the smile on George's face shone through his eyes.
"I'll accept your offer, on one condition."
Draco let out a puffy breath, ruffling his hair. "Yes?"
"I still get to see Scorpius, right?"
Leaning back in his chair, the blond folded his arms. "Only after you confront your family."
Written for Round 8, Year 2 of The Houses Competitions
Written for By Any Other Name Challenge April 2018
Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)
House: Hufflepuff
Category Assigned: Themed (2)
Theme Prompt: Redemption
Prompt(s): [Prompt] Blessing in disguise.
By Any Other Name: Fill 09
Representation: Malfoy-Weasley
Bonus Challenge(s): Found Family
Muggle History: The American Revolution - Task 7 - Eliza Schuyler: Write about forgiveness.
The Insane House Challenge: 31. [Character] George Weasley
365 Prompts Challenge: 108. [Dialogue] "You know, you can get a lot for a kidney on the black market."
April's Auction Challenge: [Dialogue] "Whatever it is, I swear it wasn't me this time."
Word count: (Per Google Docs) 3,457
Beta(s): Jet, Pix