Chapter 6

Alicia was still angry at George when she heard him padding through his hallways. He'd been out for a solid four hours. Normally, it would have been enough time for Alicia to cool down from her initial flash of anger and come to a point where she could understand, or at least begin to see, the other person's point of view. It was a strength of Alicia, to be so quick to forgive. But there was something about George Weasley deciding to completely throw his life away that made it hard for her to extinguish her anger even the smallest bit.

She'd thought that she would be able to work through her anger as she deep cleaned George's flat. She'd even forgone the use of evansco and other cleaning charms, instead deciding to clean most of the mess with her hands. Cleaning had always been something that had calmed Alicia down. It gave her hands and mind something to do other than dwell on whatever thought was causing her distress. It also gave her a sense of accomplishment when she was finished and the previously messy, dirty thing was now spotless. This time though, she felt just as angry as she had when she started.

So, when George appeared in the kitchen and tried to engage her in conversation, Alicia was having none of it. She had the choice to either stay quiet or begin to ream George out. She was pretty sure that George was not in a state where he could emotionally handle being yelled at. So, Alicia remained silent.

"This smells delicious," George spoke. He'd made a comment moments before, but Alicia had ignored it. She could feel the hopeful, almost pleading tone in George's voice. He wanted to talk to her, to open up a conversation like the ones they'd had before, like the one they'd had only a few hours ago at the hospital even. But, in the minimal hours since then, George had gone and done something so incredibly stupid, Alicia wasn't sure she was up to pretending like things were the same as they'd always been.

However, Alicia was still a caring person at heart. She couldn't leave a man so clearly in distress. It wasn't in her nature. So, instead of ignoring George outright, she quickly prepared him a bowl of stew, her mother's stew. It was a dish that, no matter what was going on and how crappy her life was at that moment, she could have a bowl of the stew and instantly feel better. She hoped it would have a similar effect on George.

"Eat this It should help you feel better," Alicia said. She grabbed up her purse and coat, looking forward to her own flat, her own bed. She hadn't realised until that very moment just how exhausted she was. She felt dead on her feet. "I'm exhausted. I'll check on you later."

Alicia took a few steps toward the door before she turned back to George. He was staring, a little melancholily into his bowl. The absolute look of defeat nearly brought Alicia to her knees.

"Please George," Alicia spoke, her voice quiet and pleading, "please take care of yourself. Please." Having said her piece, Alicia continued out the door. She hoped, for at least twenty four hours, that George wouldn't do anything to harm himself. She needed twenty-four hours to herself, to make herself feel human, and then she could come back and care for George.

The water, hot almost to the point of scalding, was exactly what she needed. Hot water was cleansing, disinfecting. It got all of the dirt, grime, germs, and anything else she was caring around. Only hot water would do that. The hotter the better. The bubbles and the essential oils, and everything else she added to the water only made her feel calm and relaxed, but it was the hot water that did most of the work.

She let it wash over her, tingling her nerve endings and washing away all of the icky-sticky feelings with George. There had been a point, in the not so distant past, when Alicia had dreamed about a life with George. A house in the country; plenty of kids running around in the yard. She had been so hopeless in love with George Weasley that there hadn't even been a whisper of another man in her life. No one could come close.

But in the years since they'd finished school, their lives moving in different directions, Alicia had moved on from George. They'd been friends for years and, despite the occasional bout of flirting, he didn't seem at all interested in her. He didn't ask her to the Yule Ball in their sixth year. He barely spoke to her in their seventh after he'd been kicked off the Quidditch team, as if he resented her or something. They only exchanged the occasional letter in the year after school and then nothing.

Alicia, quickly wrapped up in her healer studies, began to forget about her all-consuming adoration for George. Slowly, with time and distance, she'd come to realise other men. She even had a boyfriend now. Her life, though not exactly as she'd pictured it in all her childish daydreams, was coming together. And then George had drunkenly stumbled back into her life and those old feelings came rushing right back.

She needed the hot water now, more than ever.

With a deep inhale, Alicia submerged herself in the water, allowing it to completely wash over her.

She was happy. She didn't need George. Her life was good. It was only her caring nature that was drawing her back. It meant –

"Leeshie!" the high-pitched squeal of her roommate sounded only seconds before the door to the bathroom door burst open. Startled, Alicia shot up out of the water, sending it and the bubbles and essential oils all over the bathroom.

"There you are! I was looking for you everywhere. I had the absolute worst day!" Lucie exclaimed before collapsing dramatically onto the toilette. Alicia took a deep breath and tried to let the warmth and lilac sent of the water wash over her and calm her back down.

Moving in with Lucie had been an act of desperation. She couldn't stay with her mother anymore. That relationship was far too complicated. Originally, she'd thought about moving in with Angelina or Katie. But Angelina got a position with the Holyhead Harpies and couldn't commit to a flat for any length of time and Katie was still in school for another year. Alicia couldn't wait that long, so she'd looked up adds in the paper and took the first one that didn't seem like a crazy person.

Instead, she'd got the clingy, overly-open Lucie. Any thought, any feeling, that went through the thin blonde woman's head she felt the need to express. When Alicia moved in, they were essentially strangers and yet, Lucie had spent a solid week regaling Alicia, mostly against her will, with her entire life story. Now, Alicia found she could barely get five minutes to herself. The only saving grace was the fact that she spent most of her time at the hospital.

"So, I get to work. And I was only like twenty minutes late, but my absolutely insane boss said he needed to 'talk to me' about my punctuality. He took like twenty minutes to tell me how I can't be like twenty minutes late! It was such a waste of time! And he said because I had been late so often this last week, which wasn't my fault incidentally. My alarm just didn't go off on time! I swear!

"So anyway, he tells me that because I've been late so often this week that I have to work through my breaks until I've made up the time! Either that or have my wages docked the hours that I've missed. As if I've missed an entire hour! It was twenty minutes! And like, isn't these illegal? He can't do that! Can he?

"It was terrible. And then when I went to talk to my coworkers about it, they were on his side! They said that I was being annoying and selfish by showing up late all the time. I am not late all the time! It was twenty minutes!" As Lucie spoke, her tone got higher and airier, until she sounded like an enraged breathless chipmunk or something.

Alicia eventually tuned out the words that Lucie was saying. It was basically the same thing she'd been complaining about for the past week. Alicia had heard it all already. Instead, she focused on the image in her head of an angry, blonde chipmunk yelling at her, his tiny fists waving up at her as he yelled. Despite herself, Alicia felt a smile working its way across her face.

However, Lucie was so far into her rant, and was reasonably self-absorbed, that she didn't even realize Alicia was no longer paying attention. Allowing the angry chipmunk to drift off into the background, Alicia once again slips into her state of bliss, the warm waters of the bath lapping up over her.

Alicia woke up the next day feeling refreshed. She was a firm believer in the power of a good night's sleep. All the terribleness of the day before could be forgotten if you got a good eight hours. That was how she was feeling that day. All her anger at George and his poor life choices, her irritation at her roommate Lucie, and her fatigue after her hours of work. It was a new day, and things would surely be better today.

She didn't have to be at work until after noon. She was in the middle of night rotations so that her mornings were reasonably free. Normally, she would sleep in, knowing that she would be up for the next several hours after that. But on that morning, Alicia planned to check in on George. She'd left him sobering up around dinner time, hopefully he'd remained inside for the rest of the evening and not gone out to drink any more. She wasn't sure what she'd do if she found him passed out again. Maybe it would be the final straw and she'd finally break ties with him.

She had enough going on in her life to have to deal with a drunk, self-destructive George on top of that. Not to mention she had a boyfriend she barely had time to see, let alone go out on a date. She definitely didn't need to be worrying about George Weasley.

And yet, Alicia couldn't seem to help herself. she felt drawn to George, compelled to check in on him and make sure he was doing well. She was hoping it was just some left over emotions from her schooldays. That was it.

Alicia stepped out of her flat and the faint warmth of the late fall sun fell across her face. Even the weather was better today. She took it as a sign. With a wide smile spreading across her face, Alicia apparated from the alleyway behind her flat.

Seconds later, she appeared on the doorstep of George's Diagon Alley flat. She took a deep breath. Suddenly, being back here, where she'd experienced so much turmoil only hours before, was shaking her confidence. She needed a minute to recompose herself, then she turned and knocked on George Weasley's flat door.

No one answered, but the door, poorly closed, swung in open at her touch. Not a good sign. She'd made sure she locked the door before she left the night before; if it wasn't locked now that meant that George had gone out at some point after she'd left. And it's remaining unlocked and ajar now meant that he most likely hadn't been sober when he returned.

Alicia's heart dropped.

"George," she called out, hesitantly. Worried about what would meet her, she hesitantly walked up the stairs and into the flat. It was still clean, at least. She'd spent several hours last night cleaning it from roof to floor, so the fact that George hadn't immediately destroyed the place was a decently good sign. The place also didn't have an odour, so if George had been drinking the night before, he hadn't done it in his flat. Or at least he hadn't spilled anything. Alicia wasn't sure why, but the fact that George didn't seem to be keen on drinking alone seemed better somehow. It was a strange logic that she wasn't entirely comfortable with.

"George," Alicia called out once more. She was mere feet from his bedroom door, but she couldn't seem to make herself move any closer. She was absolutely sure that he was drunk, lost to the world as he slept off the alcohol he'd consumed the night before. She didn't need to see the proof.

Then, as if he was called by her presence, a very drunk George stumbled out of his room. He leaned against the doorframe for balance, looking down at the floor. He must have caught sight of her shoes because his brow crinkled. He then slowly, and with more effort than was normal, looked up her body. When his eyes finally reached her face, a silly smile crossed his face.

"Morning, Leesh! You spend the night?" his voice was cheery, and his words slurred together. All of it, his drunkenness, his lack of care over his drunkenness, and his happy reaction to her presence set her off. How could George, after acting nothing like the George she had known, then act just like he always had, as if nothing had changed. As if everything was the same as when they were in school.

"Are you drunk again, George?" Alicia asked, though she already knew the answer. She asked it partly to try and gather her thoughts, figure out what she wanted to say to him, and also partly to see what he would say.

George flushed, clumsily rubbed the back of his head, and tried to laugh it off. "May have had a drink or two too many last night," he responded, no longer looking her in the eye.

"George!" Alicia exclaimed, angry and exasperated, "You were in the hospital all of two days ago because you drank yourself into a coma essentially! Then when I come to check on you yesterday, I find you drinking at a bar and then again today! Is there ever a time that you aren't drunk?"

The question, which Alicia didn't expect to get an answer for, hung between the two of them. George was still staring at the floor. He'd momentarily glanced up at her exclamation, but then had quickly dropped his eyes again. Alicia was breathing hard.

"Well, it's obvious that you don't care about your life, that you're willing to throw your life away. So, I won't bother myself with worrying about you anymore. I have way too many other things that need my attention." Alicia then turned on her heel and stormed out of the flat.

She was still seething when she got to work. Snapping at Healer Greenslow in her anger had gotten her awarded a shifts worth of scut which only added to the absolutely terrible mood she was already in.