Chapter 4

He felt the slight wind rippling through his hair. Whether it was from the nearby open window or the myriad holes that had been blown into the walls of the castle, he didn't know. It didn't really matter; George's sole focus was on the pair in front of him. He'd spent the better part of an hour looking for Fred. He'd nearly died four times in his effort.

But now he was here, mere feet from his twin. He'd felt strange fighting without Fred by his side and had determined that he needed his brother, his other half. A smile broke across George's face as the breeze continued to ruffle his hair.

"Fred!" George called out, carefully picking his way over the rubble that littered the floor as a result of multiple curses that had been delivered against the walls of the castle. At the sound of his name, Fred turned and smiled at his brother.

"Hey, George! I was wondering where you'd gotten too!" Fred exclaimed happily. George felt his heart lighten. He was only an arm's length from his brother at this point. If he extended himself a little more, he could reach out and touch him.

Then, the world went black. George was thrown back, away from Fred, his arm still reaching out towards his brother…

George shot up, his heart racing. Along with the quickened pace of his heart, a soft, slightly annoying beeping, sounded in rhythm. George felt groggy. His head felt cloudy. His body felt heavy. It wasn't the first time George had awoken feeling like he did; he knew he'd probably had too much to drink. However, the one thing he couldn't puzzle out was where the beeping was coming from.

As George took a few deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart, and the beeping slowed in conjunction, he took a minute to take in his surroundings.

He wouldn't say that he was a decorator. His room currently contained a bed, a wardrobe, a slightly cracked mirror, a small bookshelf, a few family photographs, and a few Quidditch team posters. However, the room that George found himself in was much starker than even his bedroom. There was the bed he was sitting in, another bed a few feet from him, two plain wardrobes, and an uncomfortable looking chair.

Then he turned to look at the other wall and found the second chair. Though unlike the one across the room, this one was occupied, and by someone George knew very well.

"Leesh?" he spoke, his voice hoarse and raspy from non-use. His voice was quiet enough that Alicia Spinnet didn't even stir in her sleep. She was curled into a small ball, a pose that looked uncomfortable to George. She had a stack of paper's balanced on her lap and some other papers littered the floor around her. Her face was the picture of peace, a serene smile, lightly closed eyes, and even breaths. Just the sight of it helped calm George down further.

Finally, George took in her pale green healers scrubs. He vaguely remembered her talking about wanting to become a healer and, at the end of seventh year saying that she'd signed up for Healer-in-training courses at St. Mungo's. So much had happened since then though that George hadn't had a moment to catch up with her and confirm whether or not she'd gone through with her dreams. Apparently, she had. And the sight of her scrubs gave George the final clue he needed to figure out where it was, he had woken up in.

"Did I really drink myself into a stupor? Did I drink so much that I needed to go to St. Mungo's? That's a new low," George mused quietly to himself. He was trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake the peacefully sleeping Alicia. He wasn't sure what time of day it was as there were no windows in his room, and he didn't want to wake her up if it was still the middle of the night. George wasn't sure when Alicia had come to sit by his bed side. Nor did he know when she'd fallen asleep. He didn't want to be the one to wake her up far too early.

George lay in his bed for several more minutes, the silence stretching, but not becoming awkward. In the months since the end of the war, George had gotten used to silence. Growing up, silence was not something George was well acquainted with. He had older brothers and a younger brother and sister. There were always a lot of people in the Burrow. Even when Bill, Charlie, and Percy went off to Hogwarts, there was still Fred, Ron, and Ginny to add to the noise that was omnipresent.

However, George had slowly become accustomed to silence. He currently lived alone, his only human contact his employee and the people he met at the bars each night. Most of his life was currently spent alone, in the silence. It was like a warm, comfortable blanket. George felt pleasantly enveloped in the silence as he lay in his hospital bed.

But then, another sensation overtook the joy of silence. His head was absolutely pounding. His hangover was coming on strong. If he didn't get some relief, a pepper-up potion or a pain reduction potion, he was pretty sure he was going to be sick. Slowly turning his head, George looked for a way to contact the nurses and healers outside his door, but he didn't find anything that was obvious to him. He was sure that someone would be in to check on him, but he didn't know how long that would be, or if he could last that long before what little he had in his stomach was brought up.

Finally, his eyes landed on Alicia, peacefully asleep in a somewhat uncomfortable position in a chair beside his bed. She was a healer; she could help him relieve his pounding headache and his other hangover symptoms. But, in order for her to do that, George would have to draw her out of her peaceful reverie. He really didn't want to do that. George had such a large lack of peace in his life that taking it away from someone else felt like a sort of crime or evil act.

His headache eventually won out. The pain grew to an almost unbearable level and George felt he couldn't wait a minute more.

"Leesh," George spoke, his voice hoarse from the alcohol he'd consumed. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Leesh."

She stirred slightly but didn't wake completely. George almost stopped his attempts to wake her up. She so obviously didn't want to be awoken. But then a flash of pain went through his head and he once again lost the fight.

"Leesh!" George nearly shouted. It hurt his head to do so, to speak at such a volume, but it was finally effective. Alicia started at the sound of her voice. In the process she wacked her arm on the armrest of her chair, causing her to swear under her breath. George chuckled at the sight which brought Alicia's attention his way.

"Oh!" she said in surprise. Her forehead and nose wrinkled as she tried to piece together where she was, why she was there, and what was going on.

"Morning, Leesh. I didn't want to wake you but my heads killing me and I don't know how to call the other healers," George responded sheepishly. At his words, Alicia reddened. Realisation and remembrance passed across Alicia's face. She dropped her eyes and ceased looking at George.

"Yes. Right. Sorry about -uh- falling asleep in your room. I was tending to you last night. Wanted to make sure you didn't swallow your tongue or something," Alicia rambled as she removed the papers from her lap, stood from the chair and stretched out her sore muscles, and then moved across the room to a small cabinet. George watched her, transfixed. She moved so elegantly, like she floated across the room. And she did so after spending several hours in a cramped position in a small chair.

"You're staring," Alicia spoke as she returned to George's side with a steaming cup. Her face was still flushed, but she was once again looking at George.

"Just admiring the fact that you aren't limping. I've fallen asleep in some pretty strange places in my time and I've always woken up with at least a limp," George flashed a roughish smile before greedily gulping down the healing potion Alicia had offered him.

"It's a part of Healer training. How to cram yourself into small uncomfortable places for several hours on end and then still be able to move around when you stand up," Alicia teased back. For the briefest of moments, George felt his soul lighten. This back and forth banter, playful, maybe verging on flirting, was so incredibly familiar. In those few seconds, the years and months of heartache vanished and George was once again a student at Hogwarts, sitting in the Gryffindor common room with his friends.

"How are you feeling?" The playful smile faded from Alicia's face and a look of concern replaced it. The small bubble that George had momentarily been living in popped and he was once again in late September 1998, after the horrors of Voldemort and the second Battle of Hogwarts.

"Head's starting to feel better. Other than the headache I feel fit as a fiddle." Despite the heartache and pain that was coursing through his veins, George once again tried to plaster on a second roguish smile. He wasn't as successful, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't coming across as the sad-sack that he actually felt like.

"In fact," George spoke, swinging his legs over the side of the bed in an attempt to stand up, "I think I really should be going. Have a business to open and all that." George got to his feet, but he then immediately reached out for the wall or something else to steady himself. What he found was the petite form of the healer-in-training.

"I don't think that's a good idea George. You had -um- quite a lot to -um- drink last night. When I checked on you, you weren't even conscious. You should stay for at least a few more hours, so we can keep an eye on you," Alicia spoke, her normally confident tone turning hesitant, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. She also tried to use her body weight, and the fact that she was currently in better control of her extremities than George, to try and manoeuvre him back to the bed.

George tried to resist, but he was still feeling the effects of his hangover and didn't really have much fight left in him. After a few seconds of futile struggle, George eventually returned to sitting on the bed. However, that didn't mean he was done fighting.

"Look, Leesh, I know you're just doing your job, but I really do need to get to Diagon Alley. My business hasn't been doing great and I need to make sure that I'm doing all I can." He left the fact that he couldn't lose his business as it was the only thing he had left that connected him to his brother. He felt his eyes welling up and quickly turned away from Alicia to wipe away the tears before they could start to fall. "And, I know this probably isn't a great thing to be admitting to, especially not at a hospital, but this isn't the first time I've blacked out. I've gotten quite skilled at managing my own hangover." George tried to infuse his voice with a sense of bravado, though he was less than successful. He also tried to smile playfully, hoping that Alicia would take it all as a joke, even though he was essentially admitting to having a drinking problem. George wouldn't label it as that, but it was essentially what it was.

"That's really not good, George," Alicia responded, her tone still filled with concern. "You shouldn't be drinking to excess. It's not healthy and it could lead to some serious damage."

George bristled at her mothering tone and words. He had a mother, a mother he hadn't really spoken to in several months, but that was beside the point. He didn't need another mother; he didn't deserve caring and concern.

"I'm fine," George responded brusquely, once again trying to stand up. This time, he didn't feel lightheaded and managed to take a few steps. Then he felt a light hand on his arm and he stopped.

"George," Alicia spoke, her voice so soft that George almost didn't hear it. His heart, already a broken useless organ, shattered. He found himself frozen to the spot, trying to decide how he could comfort the petite woman. How he, as broken and battered as he was, could heal her.

"I'm really worried," Alicia continued, her voice a little more forceful, but still heartbreaking. George couldn't stand it. It was part of the reason why he'd begun to distance himself from his family. He was struggling with his own grief and he couldn't handle the grief of the rest of his family. He was too broken to deal with other people's brokenness.

But there was something about Alicia. She, in that moment, held a strange sway over him. It was so powerful that he couldn't just walk away from her, even though there was nothing physically stopping him from doing so. Instead, he wanted to find some way to fix her.

Maybe it was the fact that she was upset over him and he could easily fix it. He had a clear solution to her worry; allow her to take care of him. It was an easier solution than any his family required at that moment. He could fix at least this one thing and that was quite compelling.

"How about we make a deal," George responded. He didn't turn around to look at Alicia. He was sure, by the sound of her voice, that if he did, he would see her worry and it would break him. "I leave and go to work, but you come check on me. Whenever you want, whenever you can, and as often as you want and can. Then you won't have to worry about me."

There was several seconds of silence between the two before Alicia, composed from her earlier emotional lapse, spoke. "You've got a deal Weasley. I'm done my shift in an hour. I'll be around your flat in about an hour and a half."

With that resolved, George walked stoically out of the hospital room. He felt good to have helped Alicia, to have provided her with a solution to her emotional turmoil. He just hoped that it didn't come back to bite him. So many things were biting him now, he wasn't sure he could handle another.