Molly nodded. "Alex was only about nine or so, when he started asking not to be called Fred. He'd only really started looking like George that summer, and I admit, it gave me moments. Remembering his father and Freddy when they were small... You should have seen them..." She gave Mona a wistful smile.
"And you're not just the girlfriend. You're his girlfriend, and he cares for you. Very much, if the way he watched you at the party was any indication."
She folded her arms on the table, listening to Mona. "Can you think of any other places he'd have it? If his parents took what was in his room. George doesn't keep spirits in the house anymore, not even wine. He must have somewhere he'd hide it..." Molly frowned. She was going to have to talk to George and Angelina, she supposed. Alex couldn't be allowed to continue down what was obviously a self-destructive path, but it sounded like he needed help.
"It's worrying, that he seems to need it," she agreed. "I'm glad that you're telling me. I don't want to see Alex punished any more than is fair, but I don't want to watch him destroy himself either. I watched George do that, many years ago, and it wasn't anything I care to repeat."