So, this is basically just a fanfic I thought up. It's a Harry Potter fanfic, surprise surprise. I decided to make it a Katie Bell/ George Weasley fic, because I love that pairing. And the beginning of the story takes place about 2 months after the Battle of Hogwarts , and is written in Katie Bell's point of view. Constructive criticism is more than welcome, criticism, no.
I sat on the curb of Diagon Alley, just in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I was clearly too drunk to have noticed where I was, as while sober, I tried to avoid that shop. It hurt too much to be near it. Besides, I was always too busy training for Quidditch or just playing to take my mind off of things.
Training. Ugh. I'd trained so hard, for so long... So many people wasted so much time, just to help me train... I tried out for the Hollyhead Harpies last week. I didn't even make the first cut... I haven't been sober since. I was afraid I had let so many people down... Mum, Dad, Oliver, myself, and... Fred...
It hurt so much to think that I'd let down Fred, of all people. When he and George got separate detentions, he'd spend hours at a time helping me practice. He'd have loved to spend those hours pranking Filch - I know it, but instead he helped me practice. He knew how much getting onto the Harpies meant to me, so he took the time to train me, just for me. I took so much time away from him. Now it's all gone to waste.
With dad gone, I had no one left. Parents dead. Grandparents dead. I never did have any aunts or uncles. I lived in an apartment all by myself. I couldn't even take care of myself anymore. I hadn't eaten in 2 days, and I'd been drinking and smoking nonstop since tryouts. I needed help.
I lit a cigarette and held it to my lips, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, I heard a door open. I didn't dare turn around, afraid of what I'd see. I blew the smoke out of my mouth and took a swig of Firewhiskey, setting the bottle down when I finished. I heard footsteps coming toward me.
"Can I help you?" I heard a familiar voice ask softly. George Weasley knelt down beside me and I then felt a hand on my back. "Wait-- Katie?" he asked, suddenly wide-eyed.
I merely nodded, my eyes starting to fill with tears. I couldn't find the courage to look up at him. He'd see what a mess I was and the pain in my eyes. He sighed and took the cigarette from my hand, putting it out on the cold, damp pavement. I frowned and made to take another drink of Firewhiskey, but he took that as well.
"I was drinking that." I snapped. I didn't mean to, though I was drunk. I didn't know half of what I was doing. I looked up at him, my vision very clouded and watery. I saw a look of pain on his face as he scooped me up off the ground and started carrying me into the shop.
"No more drinking and no more smoking. I can't stand seeing you like this," he said quietly, pushing the door open and walking through the shop, up the stairs toward his flat above the shop. "What the hell happened to you, anyway?"
I didn't answer. He sighed, walking into a small bedroom and setting me on the bed, pulling the covers over me. He took out his wand and summoned a glass of water, handing it to me. I reluctantly took a drink. The water tasted so bland, compared to the amount of alcohol I'd been consuming that week, but I ignored the taste. He took the glass when I'd finished drinking and set it on the bedside table.
"Katie..." he began as he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked tired and stressed. He looked at me with tired eyes and frowned. He dragged a hand through his hair and started anew. "Kates... What's wrong? What happened to you?" he asked, almost begging for an answer.
I frowned and looked at him, then looked away, unable to see him so glum. I sighed. "What's right, these days, Georgie? I worked so hard, all my life... so many people helped and all of that hard work has gone to waste..." I managed to choke out, breaking into sobs.
I sat up and hid my face in my hands. "I didn't make the Harpies..." I concluded. I felt George wrap his arms around me, holding me tightly.
"It's not the end of the world, Kates. You'll have more chances." he murmured into my hair.
"But I've let everyone down!" I cried. "Mum, Dad, Oliver, Fred... They'd all be so upset if they found out! I know Oliver is!"
"But Oliver is a Quidditch junkie! He gets sad when people don't play Quidditch." he sighed, then continued. "And Fred would be more than happy that you tried."
Even George was beginning to cry. I shouldn't have mentioned Fred. The angst was hard enough without mentioning him. George frowned and got up.
"I'll go make you something to eat. You can't be any more than 90 pounds..." he commented, biting his lower lip. "D'you know how dangerously unhealthy that is? When's the last time you ate?"
"Two days ago..." I replied guiltily, looking down at my hands in my lap.
George sighed once again and walked out of the room and into the kitchen. After a couple minutes, I got up and walked clumsily out to the kitchen to see what was taking so long. There I saw him, leaning over the sink, crying quietly. I frowned, feeling my own tears trickle down my face as I walked over to him and hugged him tightly.
"Please don't cry..." I pleaded, crying into the back of his shoulder. He turned around and pulled me into a warm embrace, hiding his face in my hair.
"Promise me you won't smoke or drink alcohol anymore? Please?" he begged, sobbing, now. I clung to him tightly and nodded reluctantly, unable to form anymore words. As much as I wanted a Firewhiskey or a smoke at the moment, I wouldn't dare have one. For George's sake.