CW: alcohol and drug abuse

Chapter 3

Anniversary

"Wake up Ange!"

Angelina had just fallen asleep. All evening she had tossed and turned, trying her best not to think of what day it was.

"You've got to come, quick!"

She woke with a jolt and could just make out Lee's Patronus floating over her, the blue light illuminating her dark room.

"Ange, hurry- it's George."

Angelina was having one of those days when one wakes up feeling hungover, without having a drop to drink the night before. Her body ached and her head pounded, protesting her waking up.

She normally did not work on Tuesdays, but she had volunteered; anything to keep her mind off of what day it was. It had been exactly a month since the battle of Hogwarts. One month since the death of Fred and so many others.

She groggily put on her work uniform, glad to have a muggle job today. Perhaps that was why she hadn't applied for her Ministry job back-the anonymity of the muggle world was intoxicating.

When she graduated from Hogwarts, Angelina went for any and all quidditch-related jobs she could apply for. She had made second team for the Wigtown Wanders, but taking that job would mean that she would have to move to Scotland. She and Alicia had already settled in their flat, and Angelina wasn't ready to leave. So instead, she took a job in the Departments of Magical Games and Sports. While there was a lot of paperwork, she had enjoyed her year there. Lee worked there as well, though as a commentator he was often travelling.

But then, all hell broke loose. She was in her office, filing more paperwork when Thicknese took over. Soon it was obvious that the Ministry was not a safe place. Her coworkers were resigning left and right. She thought of doing the same, but before she could, the entire Department was disbanded-all quidditch was banned.

So, she took up her position in the muggle cafe. It was as safe as anything, and paid her bills, at least initially. She was paid in muggle money and would have to go to Gringotts to have it converted to wizard money. After a few months of Thicknese's administration, that was stopped. They would no longer take muggle money, it wasn't seen as proper. It hadn't mattered really, as Diagon Alley was no longer safe to travel about in. Even the twins had closed their shop.

She continued to work her muggle job, still able to use her earnings for food and other necessities. Thankfully, she had enough saved to help pay her rent, as her flat was owned by a wizard. But, towards the end of the war, money was running out, and things were looking bleak.

All throughout her shift, she was distracted. She had taken a week off after the battle, and her boss was aware that her friend had died (in a car crash), so she hadn't questioned Angelina about her absent-mindedness. Angelina couldn't wait to get home, though she didn't know why, as there was nothing to distract her there. But at least she could drown her sorrows with a good bath.

At around 11 that evening Katie had knocked on her bedroom door. They were going out and invited Angelina to come along, but Angelina couldn't be bothered. Instead, she resigned herself to a night of restless sleep.

Lee's flat was unnaturally dark, and it took a moment for Angelina to understand why she was called there.

She could barely make out a figure lying on the floor. Immediately, she felt sick as she was transported back to the battle, seeing Fred's body, unmoving, on the cold ground of the Great Hall. But this wasn't Fred; it was George. And he was alive. Right?

Lee quickly motioned her over, and she went running.

"I don't know what happened," he said fearfully. "He went to the loo, and minutes later he was like this. We were only drinking."

Angelina bent down and checked George's pulse. It was still beating, but only just.

"Get a healer, God damn it," she yelled at Lee. He followed her orders and quickly disapparated.

Angelina magicked the lights on to get a better view. She could see they were not alone; Oliver and Katie were watching, both frozen in their place, looking terrified. George's breath was faltering, and his heartbeat was slowing-she had to do something, and she had to do it quick.

She pushed George on to his side and positioned herself at his head. Opening his mouth, she stuck her fingers down his throat until he was sick. Being sick seemed to wake him, and she stroked his hair as he leant over.

When he was done, she scorgified the mess and placed a pillow under his head. To say he looked worse was an understatement. His face was sunken in and greying. There were dark purple half-circles under his eyes and his eyes were glassed over-only showing a feeling of despair.

Before she could complete her scan of him, Lee reappeared with a healer.

The healer pushed Angelina aside and took her place next to George's head. Angelina moved away, avoiding looking at her friends. She tried her best to indiscreetly eavesdrop on the healer's conversation, wanting desperately to know what happened.

George wasn't giving up information easily, but Angelina could make out a few things. Firstly, he had gone on a bender with his friends and was unaware of how much alcohol he consumed. Then someone had given him something in the loo, though he wouldn't say who or what, and that's how he ended up where he was.

The healer scanned him with her wand and determined they were out of the "red zone," as she said. She wanted to take him back to Saint Mungo's for observation, but George refused. After pleading with him for a few minutes, she gave up and addressed his friends instead.

"Someone needs to monitor him for the next 12 hours or so. He can sleep, and he likely will be very tired, but he should be checked regularly that he is breathing. If he gets worse, bring him to hospital immediately. No matter what he says."

With that, the healer left. In silence, Lee and Oliver helped him to the couch. They began talking about taking shifts to watch George, but Angelina interrupted.

"You two have done enough," she almost yelled. The anger in them for allowing such a thing to happen was overwhelming. "I'll stay with him," she said sternly.

Oliver looked like he wanted to say something, but he thought better of it. The two men slowly went back to their rooms. Katie also headed to Lee's room and uttered a pitiful I'm sorry as she did.

Much like the healer had said, George was exhausted and fell asleep almost immediately, not appearing completely aware of what was going on around him. Angelina stayed with him for the rest of the night, checking his breathing and heart rate every 10 minutes. She had nothing to distract her, but she figured that she was so upset that it would be hard to be distracted properly.

She kept going over the night's events in her mind. They went out, presumably to drink away their sorrows, and somehow got George to go with them. Which was not an easy feat, at least not recently. As far and Angelina knew, he had locked himself in his old room, not allowing visitors or replying to letters.

They went out and got smashed. Though that was par for the course with her friends. And then George went into the loo and got some mysterious drug or potion from an unknown person. Or was it? Could he be lying? Maybe he had the drugs with him the whole time. Maybe this was his plan; why he agreed to go out in the first place. Angelina did her best to push these thoughts out of her head.

She was also bothered by the fact that Lee called her, not a healer, or any of their other friends. She assumed it was because of her past. That's what she gets for sharing.

Katie was the first up and offered to take Angelina's spot. Since Angelina had to be at work in an hour, she took up the offer.

If she was spacey the day before, she was a zombie now. Thankfully, it was a slow day, so she didn't have to do too much. Unfortunately, it was a slow day, which meant the time went by extra slowly, with nothing much to distract her.

She was barely able to floo back to her flat, she was so exhausted. But she made it, ready to head straight to her bed. She was stopped, however, before she could get there.

George was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking just as exhausted as Angelina.

"Hey," he said, barely moving his head out of his hands.

"Hi," she responded cautiously.

"Look, Ange," George said, making eye contact with her. "Lee told me what you did. I'm so sorry."

She didn't know what to say, so she continued to stare at him.

"You shouldn't have had to deal with that. They shouldn't have called you. You weren't supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?", she asked a little too aggressively. "I wasn't supposed to be there."

"I-," he started, but faltered. "I mean you shouldn't have had to deal with me, especially not with everything. It wasn't fair."

Angelina took a big breath, trying to calm her emotions.

"It's not fair," she agreed. "Not that I was there, but that you were. That you went through that. That you almost died," she said the last part barely above a whisper.

"It won't happen again," he pleaded.

"You can't promise that," she said matter-of-factly.

"I can and I will. I won't put you through that again," he said determinedly.

"It's not about me," she said with a sigh. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"What do you mean?", he asked, appearing taken aback.

"Like a mind healer," she said.

"No."

"Well that would be a good start," she said.

He nodded. "Okay, I'll look into that."

"Good," she said.

"Thank you," he whispered in her ear as he stood to leave.

She nodded and headed up to bed, immediately taking sleeping drought. No matter how exhausted she felt, there was no way she would be able to sleep tonight without help; her mind was too distracted.