The Years Between || G.W

1998- George's POV

***A/N*** Hello! Fair warning, This chapter contains substance abuse and all-around sad vibes. Be warned. Not so happy reading this time I guess? xx

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I haven't left the bar in three days.

Cause three days ago my life fell apart.

The war happened.

My school was destroyed.

I lost my other half.

I lost the love of my life.

I think my friends hate me.

I think my family is scared of me.

I can't even look at myself in a mirror.

So I drink. I drink till I can't see straight then I drink more till I forget that it happened.

"George!"

I look down the bar and towards the front door slowly. A figure moves out of the crowd and walks over to me.

Lee.

How'd he find me?

"Go away please," I groan before gesturing at the bartender for a refill.

Lee comes over and sits down beside me, "I need your help with something. Then you can continue to stew in whatever it is that your stewing in."

I slam my empty cup on the bar, "OI!" I shout, "I asked for another!" Lee flinches beside me but I don't care.

The bartender comes by and takes my cup, "You're with him?" He says to Lee.

"Yeah." Lee nods.

"Get him out. He smells rancid and he's making my customers uncomfortable."

Lee puts his hand on my shoulder, "Come on mate, you can stay at our - my flat till you're sobered up. Your Mum doesn't have to see you like this."

I shrug him off, "Don't fucking touch me."

"George, come on mate. I can send an owl to Walter, and Emma, and..." His voice falters.

I look at him through tears that have welled up in my eyes, "Yeah, go call all of her friends, really make my day better." I get up from the barstool too fast and stumble forward. Lee catches me and I push him off again.

"You owe me twenty galleons." The bartender says.

I shove my hand deep in my jacket pocket and pull out my coin bag. I toss it onto the counter before pushing past Lee with my shoulder and stumbling out into the street.

The setting sun burns through my eyes and only fuels the biggest headache I've ever had. The doorbell rings behind me and Lee comes up to my side, "Flat's that way. Do you think you can walk?"

"I'm not going with you." I snap.

"I'm not letting your family see you like this, so yes, you're coming with me and we're sobering you up." He grabs my hand and before I can shove him off me we have apparated into his flat.

Apparating in general does a number on you, but apparating when drunk?

I vomit all over Lee's carpet and collapse onto his sofa.

"Christ mate, look at the state of you." Lee grumbles. He cleans up my mess with a wave of his hand and goes into a different room. Coming back with a clean set of clothes, a pair of pyjamas, a blanket, a pillow, and a toothbrush. "They're Wally's... Walter's so the clothes should fit you, fucking giants the two of you. Go get a shower and change into something clean before you pass out. And brush your bloody teeth."