Who: Fred Weasley and Cecily Harrison When: 30 October, 11:30 pm Where: Tau Bar What:This must have been how George felt Status / Rating: Complete narrative / open thread. PG-13 for drinking and angst.
It had all become too overwhelming, Mum's birthday. Anyone's birthday really. His own would be worst of all. He had been fine, and more, everyone else had believed he was fine, for the bulk of the party and that was what was important. But as the night wore on and siblings went to their partners, and their children, and their best friends, it had become harder to smile, to entertain the children and to laugh like he and his brother always had. How long had it been. An eternity, but it was still as fresh as yesterday.
It started with one rum and coke. It always did. Or one gin and tonic. One scotch on the rocks. One or three beers. Really whatever the first one was a matter of convenience and availability. Tonight it had been rum and soda, followed by a few too many rounds to the punch bowl some saint (other than himself of course) had thought to spike. It always started like that.
And it usually end just like this. He had left the party about an hour ago, not stumbling back to his own half empty room, but instead to the purple bar painted red like Murder. He had grabbed a bottle. It could have been mouthwash for all he cared. It had been whiskey. What had started at a party quickly dissolved to the bottom of a glass, then a third, He filled the fourth when he caught a blurred motion out of the corner of his eye.
There was a mirror behind the bar that he hadn't noticed. He hated mirrors, the gauze over his ear an ugly reminder of the year he wanted more than anything to cancel. He sneered and reached up to rip it off. Let the world see the hole in his head that was nowhere near the size of the hole in his heart. His reflection almost looked like it had two ears.
But that was Fred and Fred was gone. There were no Saints or angels here.