I am so sorry for the delay on this - I've just had a six months' worth of writer's block and I've really struggled to pick this one back up again. If you're familiar with my other works then you'll know that I have a Fred/OC on the go that I'm very passionate about but I promise that ALFEP hasn't been dropped in favour of another piece. I've just found this a little harder to write lately. Thank you to everyone who has review for their continued support and I hope you don't feel too let down.
Chapter Twenty Two - Daisy
George idled awkwardly in the plush hallway that led to the restrooms, twirling the stem of his mostly empty champagne glass between his fingers. He was drunk, or at least he very soon would be, but not in the same way he had been the night that Alice had dragged him from his bed and taken him to the bar with the Jagerbombs. That night had been an all-consuming, dedicated march toward oblivion - a swan dive off a cliff into an ocean of numbness. Comforting, but accompanied by the unavoidable knowledge that such a feeling would later return to exact a price from him.
But this... George peered into the glass at the shimmering, effervescent liquid and wondered how they managed to make it so that he could feel it fizzing gently in his veins. It was like he had been drinking the stars. With this, there was no looming threat of a vengeful hangover in a few hours' time.
Of course, there was a very real possibility that it was not the champagne that was causing him to feel lightheaded, and George blushed when he thought about Alice's soft skin beneath his fingers, the way that his palm had fit so neatly into the small of her back. He had not realised up until that moment that his expectations for the remainder of his life without his brother had been so low that a mildly risqué sensory experience had not only exceeded them, but left him stupefied.
Turning his good ear in the direction of the ballroom, he could hear the party continue it's medley of boring chitchat, vicious gossip and horsey-sounding laughter. Growing up without money or connections had never been an unpleasant experience for George, but as a teenager he had occasionally indulged himself by fantasising about the incredible parties he and Fred would throw when they finally made their fortune, the society they would be able to rub shoulders with. George had to admit that although the aesthetic of the party was not what he had envisaged (too many muggles and not enough Elvish wine), in his mind's eye the atmosphere of the event had been identical to this one. Back then, he had craved it, longed for it. Now, with an all-access pass to such an occasion he only felt suffocated, overwhelmed by the sheer smallness of the people he saw everywhere he looked.
Perhaps it had never really been about the parties and the glamour after all, but rather about proving something to the Malfoys and the Notts and the Parkinsons of the world. Proving that it was possible to succeed through sweat and toil and sheer bloody hard work instead of relying on your father to shake hands with the right people. He and Fred had built their empire from scratch, charted their own course to success. There had been difficulties of course, but that had only made their victory sweeter.
And then Fred had selfishly gone and got himself killed, and George had realised with sudden and alarming clarity how high they had risen and how easy it would be for him to plummet straight back down.
George downed the last mouthful of champagne and cast a hopeful glance down the hallway when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, hoping to see Alice sashaying back toward him. He sighed when he realised that it wasn't Alice hurrying down the hall in his direction but a harassed looking waitress. She hurried past George, not meeting his eyes. He watched as she scurried back into the ballroom and disappeared among the crowds before sighing and leaning back against the wall to wait for Alice. She had left him here to wait for her with a smile and a hand that had lingered a little too long on his arm. George had watched her go, hoping the blush creeping onto his cheeks wasn't too obvious.
The entire evening had been like that after her tosser of an ex-boyfriend had stormed off. Tentative to begin with - little unnecessary touches, standing too close to one another, a gaze that lasted a second too long. At first George thought he had imagined it or at the very least been unrequited in the attraction he had to his landlady, but when she had leaned forward and placed her hand over his to emphasise the point she had been making, George had been unable to resist catching her fingers as she had gone to pull away. Alice continued to talk as though nothing had happened, lazily intertwining their fingers, running her index finger softly across his palm. George was spellbound by the feel of her touch. It felt dangerous to be heading down this path with Alice given what he now knew about her, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. After so long living only half a life, he could feel himself craving the way she made him feel - a way he hadn't felt in a long time.
The smell of smoke accompanied by a piercing scream filled the air and George was dragged from his reverie. He realised with dismay that the commotion was coming from the Ladies' restroom and without stopping to think, took off at a run toward that end of the corridor. As he reached the restroom door, an alarm sounded somewhere overhead and suddenly he was soaking wet. How had muggles invented a way to make it rain indoors?
George burst into the Ladies' room, coughing on the acrid smoke that was already beginning to obscure visibility "Alice! Are you alright?"
Through the haze, he could see only the vague outlines of two people, one cowering on the floor crying hysterically, the other standing over by the cubicles, batting her hands wildly in the air and coughing harshly.
"Alice!" George yelled again before bringing his sleeved arm up to cover his mouth, his eyes watering.
"George?" Alice's voice, strained and brittle from smoke inhalation, seemed to be coming from the figure by the cubicles "George, there's a fire!"
"You ruin everything!" The figure on the floor wailed "This is all your fault!"
Despite the more immediate pressing concern of how he was going to get Alice and himself away from the fire, George felt a faint cold fear at the words the other figure had uttered. Alice's fault? Had she performed magic again? In front of a muggle?
"George, get my sister out of here!" Alice choked "I'll look for a fire extinguisher!"
"Don't be insane, Alice!" George yelled back, stooping to the floor and hauling the weeping woman roughly to her feet. There was no avoiding it now. He would have to alert the Ministry.
Charging out of the restroom door and depositing Alice's sister on the luxurious carpet outside, he cast around a quick glance to make sure they were still alone before retrieving his wand from his jacket. Sarah's eyes widened.
"What on earth do you think-"
"Obliviate." George whispered with a flick of his wand and Sarah's indignation gave way to a mellow docility but George didn't even stop to check that the charm had taken properly before running back toward the Ladies' Room. The visibility was so poor now that he almost tripped over Alice, who was on her knees fiddling desperately with a strange red contraption. He sank down next to her, grabbing her arms.
"We have to go now, Alice!"
"You don't understand!" She cried brokenly "It was me! I started the fire! I didn't mean to but I started it!"
"That doesn't matter now!" George pulled her to her feet "We just have to get out of here!" Without waiting for an answer, he began to drag her toward the exit, ignoring her cries.
Sarah was no longer where he had left her on the floor outside the Restroom, and George could only assume that she had been found and evacuated by some well-meaning person. Although if he was being totally honest, he didn't much care what happened to her. The only person he cared about was huddled into his side, her arm around his waist, shaking as she coughed profusely on the smoky air.
George steered them officiously back through the ballroom which was in the final stages of being evacuated. Together, he and Alice surged with the crowd back out into the street, gasping as the freezing night air hit their lungs. Alice instinctively drew even closer to George, shivering with the sudden temperature drop. He immediately shed his jacket and wrapped it around her, taking her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes "Are you alright, Alice?" He asked gently "What happened?"
Alice stares back at him, lip quivering and eyes bright with unshed tears "I started the fire," she whispered shakily "I didn't mean to… I just couldn't stop it." A single tear escaped and dribbled down her smoke stained cheek. Without thinking, George reached up and wiped it away with his thumb. Before he could reply however, a voice appeared at his elbow.
"Mr Weasley? Doctor Clark?" They both jumped at the sound of their names, wheeling around confusedly to see one of the waitstaff standing next to them. She was holding a tray of champagne, presumably to prevent the guests from going back inside in search of a bar to charge their glass. She proffered it, a look of concern in her eyes "May I offer you a drink?"
George frowned "Didn't I see you in the hallway earlier?"
"You left the Ladies' room just before the fire started!" Alice exclaimed. The waitress smiled reassuringly at them.
"My name is Daisy - our mutual friend sent me to keep watch on you tonight." At George's blank look, she rolled her eyes "The instruction was to 'follow you around like a dog'."She held up a hand to silence George as he opened his mouth "Don't worry - I'm not with the Ministry. I owe Arlene a favour." She grimaced "About a million favours, actually. My job was to make sure nothing…" she paused, seemingly searching for the right words "Set things off, if you know what I mean."
"Bad luck," Alice said miserably, her shoulders slumping "Didn't quite manage to catch me before I set the joint alight, did you?"
Daisy laughed, a raucous, boyish sound "You didn't start that fire - I did."
George and Alice gaped at her "You started the fire?" Alice echoed disbelievingly. Daisy nodded, grinning. Around them, partygoers were talking in loud braying voices about how cold they were. It was only when Alice heard someone querying whether it was alright to go back in out of the wet did she realise that it had started to rain, soaking through the clothes that had already been ruined by the hotel's sprinkler system.
"But… why?" George asked.
Daisy shrugged "I saw Alice's sister follow her into the restrooms and decided to apparate into one of the cubicles and listen in." She threw Alice a sympathetic glance "She's a vicious one, isn't she? Anyway, I could sense that she wasn't going to leave you alone, so I started a fire as a distraction." She pulled her waistcoat aside to reveal her wand neatly tucked into the waistband of her trousers "You'd be amazed how far a little incendio will go."
George shook his head "Trust me, I know exactly how far." He said grimly at the same time as Alice sputtered "That was not little!"
Daisy grinned "It did the trick, didn't it?" Behind her, a red-faced middle aged man was attempting to catch her attention, his eyes fixed on the tray of drinks she was holding. Daisy steadfastly ignored him, her gaze on George "Listen, you should go. It won't take long for the Ministry to get word of this and when they do, it will only be a matter of time before things get tricky for you. Get out of town for a while, maybe? Take a break?" She glanced at Alice meaningfully and this time, George could not mistake her meaning. Daisy gave them a final smile as she began to back away into the throng of people. With a final wink, she was gone.
George and Alice stood in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the space where Daisy had been. It began to rain harder, the icy droplets hitting the tops of their heads with some force now. Alice began to shiver, the adrenaline high of the previous hour's events wearing off.
"George?"
"Alice?"
"Are we absolutely certain that I haven't lost my mind?"
"It's always a possibility, but I would say in this instance you're quite sane."
"Just checking."
"Don't worry; when it happens I'll let you know."
They turned to look at one another, their breath rising in the cold night air, clouding between them. Alice frowned.
"What did she mean by 'get out of town'? Are we in some sort of danger?"
George grimaced "As much as I hate to admit it, it probably would be best if we got you somewhere safe for a little while. Not tonight though; I need to talk to Arlene before we go anywhere. We'll leave tomorrow." He looked at her apologetically "I'm sorry, Alice. This must be so strange for you."
Alice smiled grimly "What do you have to be sorry for? The chaos would have come either way, George." She reached out and shyly took his hand "I'm just glad you turned up too."
George smiled at her, and in spite of the cold night air and their wet clothes, the same unaddressed spark they had been nurturing all evening flickered back into life. Alice took a step closer to him.
"George?"
"Alice?"
"Take me home."