Secrets Unknown
Chapter 12: "To Be Alone "
Angelina woke first. Keeping her eyes shut tightly, she stumbled out of bed and over to the window where she attempted to close the curtains to stop the light coming in. As she did so she heard a voice mumble behind her, "Thank God."
Pulling the curtains closed she opened her eyes and turned around. In the dim light she could see George's scruffy red hair poking over the top of the covers where he had pulled them up to avoid the glare. Climbing back into bed, she asked gingerly, "How are you feeling?"
A raspy voice answered, "Like shit."
Not wanting to press the matter of the previous nights antics, Angelina snuggled down beneath the covers once again and rolled over. She had every intention of going back to sleep and letting George do so but after a minute or two he spoke again.
"I'm really sorry, Angie."
Angelina rolled over and saw George looking at her, a pained expression on his face.
"It's okay," she told him, "I'm just glad you are alright."
He nodded, a look on his face telling her that he wasn't sure about being alright.
"How's your head?" she asked him, propping herself up onto one elbow.
"Throbbing." George tried getting into the same position as Angelina but failed as his head swam. He lay back down, eyes tightly shut. He opened them again and rolled over to face her.
"How are your shoes?" he asked, remembering an embarrassing piece of information from the night before.
Angelina blinked in surprise, "You remember that?"
George stifled a yawn, "Vaguely," he told her.
"How's your stomach?" Angelina asked him, knowing that he had been up several times during the night. She pretended to be asleep every time he got back from the bathroom to avoid any embarrassment on his part.
"Terrible. I want to die."
Angelina's heart did a back flip and fell off the tightrope.
"Don't say that." She whispered.
George realized what he had said and he cringed.
"Sorry Angie. I didn't mean it to be like that. All I meant was-"
"It's okay," she cut him off, "it's just that…Fred said that once. I laughed at him for it."
"When was that?" Ignoring the pain in his head, George leaned on his elbow, his cheek in the palm of his hand.
"After a party we went to. It was the birthday of a girl I work with. Fred drank. He drank a lot. Did you ever notice that?" she said unexpectedly, turning to George once again.
George thought for a moment. Both boys enjoyed a drink now and then. He could remember times when they had just sat at home, watching television and drinking just to have fun. But, thinking back, George realized just how often Fred took it to that next level. He'd passed out a few times, waking up the next morning with a slight hangover, but getting over it in an hour or two. It had happened way too often.
"Yeah, I did notice that," George said softly, remembering, "I guess I just never thought anything of it."
Angelina nodded, "You and me both. Well, anyway," she continued, "I had never seen him drink so much. He got home and just passed out cold. I guess I just figured he was really tired. Are you okay?" she looked at George with concern for he had suddenly turned pale, his freckles sticking out more than usual against that stark white of his skin.
"I feel sick," he said not untruthfully, "go on."
Angelina continued, still watching George in case he fell out of bed or something.
"Anyway, I just thought that he was really tired, and tiredness mixed with alcohol…in the morning he felt pretty bad. He said he wanted to die-" her voice cracked and George looked at her with alarm.
She shook her head and continued, "At the time I thought he meant because of the alcohol. But now…" tears ran down either side of her nose and she wiped them away, embarrassed. "I keep remembering things about Fred," she said softly, "things that make much more sense now than they did at the time."
George nodded, realizing that she should just keep talking. He didn't need to say anything. He knew what she meant but he didn't have to say so.
Angelina continued, "I just…I wish I had known what was going on in his head. I wish that I had not thought he was joking all the time and actually read deeper into the things he said."
George sighed; he was no stranger to thoughts such as these. Every day since Fred's death all he had wondered was "Why didn't he see it coming? Why didn't he see the signs?" And ever since he found the diary all he had thought was exactly what Angelina was voicing. He shouldn't have taken his twins joking manner for granted. George's head gave an extra large thump as he realized just how much he had betrayed his brother and best friend. All the time he had been feeling anger at Fred which should have been directed at himself.
"Don't do that."
George looked up, startled. "Don't do what?"
"I can see what you are doing. You're thinking the same thing I am. That we betrayed him, right?"
George nodded, "Actually that is exactly what I was thinking. How did you know?"
Angelina shrugged, "I feel that way too. I loved him so much and yet I just didn't take the time to actually realize he was hurting."
George nodded. Feeling as sick as he did, the last thing he wanted to do was to dwell on his best friends recent suicidal tendencies.
Angelina must have had the same idea for she suddenly stretched and sat up. She pulled George to his feet and dragged him to the door.
"You need a nice greasy breakfast!" She told him brightly.
He appreciated her trying to help but all the bouncing around was not doing anything for his head or his stomach. As they stepped out into the hall, the smell of bacon and eggs wafted up the stairs and George's stomach churned. He held his hand over his mouth and ignored Angelina's question of whether or not he was okay as he rushed off to the bathroom.
George sat down next to Angelina, trying to breathe through his mouth to avoid any questions about why he was rushing out of the room. Angelina eyed him, as though to make sure he wasn't going to faint or throw up but he gave her a nod and she turned back to her food.
Porridge seemed to be the best bet so George eagerly put spoonfuls of it to his mouth, surprised at how hungry he really was. The last mouthful was barely to his lips when the fire in the fireplace suddenly glowed green and the disembodied head of Oliver Wood bobbed casually amongst the flames. Mrs Weasley screamed when she saw the head there but realizing who it was, smiled and said hello as though disembodied heads floating in her kitchen was a very normal and acceptable sight.
George looked away, highly embarrassed about the previous nights exploits and forcefully aware of the reason to Oliver's visit. Angelina, however, got up from her seat and squatted down in front of the fireplace. The rest of the family, realizing the visit was for either George or Angelina, went about their normal everyday business, ignoring the floating head.
"Hi," Angelina said quietly to Oliver's head.
Oliver smiled, "How's he holding up?" he nodded towards where George was talking enthusiastically to Hermione who had a look on her face as though she wondered where the sudden burst of energy had come from but was far too happy with George's turn of attitude to question it.
Angelina shrugged, "He's really embarrassed, I think."
Oliver looked grim, "He's not dealing with Fred's death very well, is he?"
Angelina shrugged, stung that Oliver would say something so blasé about her boyfriend's suicide.
Oliver must had sensed what he had done and cringed, "I'm so sorry," he apologized, "that was tactless."
"Yeah," Angelina said softly, "but don't worry about it."
Oliver seemed to be at a loss for words for the moment so Angelina helpfully provided conversation.
"Are the others awake yet?"
Oliver nodded, "Katie is here but Alicia went to buy eggs."
"When do you have to go back?" Angelina asked suddenly, remembering that Oliver was only allowed out for the one night.
"This afternoon," he said glumly, "do you want to do something today? Something not involving alcohol," he added, glancing in George's direction.
Angelina looked over at George who was gesticulating at her in a way that suggested he badly wanted her to make her excuses and leave the conversation. She ignored him and turned back to Oliver.
"I think that would be a great idea. What did you have in mind?" Oliver shrugged, looking thoughtful for a moment before grinning.
"How about a game of quidditch?"
Angelina groaned. The game that had brought them all together in the first place was a distant memory in Angelina's mind. She had long forgotten what it was like to have the courage and talent to win game after game. She didn't miss it.
"No," Angelina rejected the idea and Oliver laughed, "Why don't you just come here? I think the family is going into town today to see a movie with Mr Weasley."
"A movie?" interjected Oliver.
Angelina shrugged, "Muggle thing, I think."
Oliver leaned over his shoulder and muttered to Katie before turning back to Angelina and nodding, "We will be over in an hour."
George sat on the edge of bed, far more embarrassed than he wanted to admit. Although the exact details of the previous night's activities were all a blur, he knew explicitly just how foolish he had acted and he had no desire to face the people who saw him in such a state.
"Oh, George, come on," Angelina pleaded half-heartedly, "we are your best friends, we don't give a shit how you look most of the time."
George smiled but he wasn't convinced. He didn't want them to come over. He wanted to stay home and read the diary. In the last entry Fred had described his current life as tiring. He suddenly appreciated the sentiments.
Oliver, Katie, and Alicia arrived and sat around George's room chatting and avoiding the issue of what had happened the night before. George was silent for the most part, answering only to say that he was fine. Finally he was sick of the pretence and he said loudly, "You can bring up last night, you know."
Alicia and Katie looked uncomfortable, Angelina and Oliver exchanged looks and George laughed, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head that had not yet subsided.
"Once again you treat me like a child."
"George-" Angelina said quickly but he glared at her and snapped.
"What, Ange? What were you going to say?"
Angelina shut her mouth and looked away, eyes burning.
Alicia and Katie squirmed in their seats but Oliver stood up.
"Look, George-" but George cut him off too.
"What dumb-fuck motivational thing are you going to come out with now, Wood?"
Oliver clenched his fists, trying to control his rage against the guy who had just lost his brother.
"Look man, we did a lot for you last night." Oliver noticed that George at least had the decency to look abashed but the emotion did not last long and was quickly replaced by anger.
"Hey, I didn't ask you to fawn all over me like I am an invalid."
"No, you didn't," both Oliver and George were standing now, facing each other as though the girls in the room did not exist, "But we helped you. You are our friend and we wanted to help you, you thankless-"
"You should have let me die there!" George roared before a harsh slap caused him to lose balance and fall to the floor. Angelina stood, fists clenched, tears splashing angrily onto her cheeks, breathing heavily.
"You think you are the only one who lost someone they love, George?" Angelina's voice was quiet and controlled but every syllable shook with emotion. "You think you are the only one hurting? Do you?" She screamed the last two words and Alicia and Katie took their leave. George looked angrily up at her from the floor but she glared furiously back.
"Hey, guys-" Oliver tried to make peace but neither party responded. They saw only each other.
"You were born together!" Angelina screamed, "I chose to love him! I chose to devote my entire life to him when you were just beginning to separate yourselves. He left the both of us, George!"
George stared at her, "Angie-" he started to apologise but she didn't care. Storming from the room, she slammed the door so hard that Oliver was surprised the rickety house stayed standing. Soon her angry footsteps subsided and it was just Oliver and George. The latter sat ashamedly staring at his hands.
"I'm not a very good friend, am I?" he whispered.
Oliver sighed and sat down, trying to wind down from the argument.
"You're a great friend. You just experienced one of the worst things a person can experience."
George nodded, the effects of the alcohol and the emotion of what had happened getting to him. Not wanting to cry in front of Oliver he turned away but Oliver got up and walked over to where he sat on the floor. Sitting next to him, Oliver put his arm around the crying boy and pulled him a little closer.
"George, we are here to help you."
George nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. He didn't want to cry. He was tired of showing emotion and weakness.
"George?" Oliver asked tentatively. "Talk to me."
George sighed and shook his head, his throat hurting from the sobs that were trying to escape. "Just go away." George whispered but Oliver just tightened his grip.
"I can't do that."
Finally George couldn't take it anymore. He let the tears fall from his eyes and the sobs escape his mouth. He thought Oliver would be uncomfortable with such a display but he just stayed seated on the floor next to him, occasionally giving George's shoulder a squeeze. George cried until he was too tired to move and he remembered his brothers words.
"I am so tired of acting. I need to rest. One day I will have my rest. Until then I will continue to be tired."
Oliver helped George climb into bed before leaving the room. George's last thoughts before he fell asleep were disturbing and frightening. What if he turned out like his brother? What if suddenly he felt the way Fred did, that life just wasn't worth living anymore? He felt so tired lately. Closing his eyes, George fell into a sleep filled with uneasy thoughts and dreams.