Malignant ••• George Weasley

Chapter 53 - Promises

TW- Discussion of mental health.
If that's something that may trigger you, please don't read this chapter. If you decide not to read it, skip through and comment at the bottom to say you need a recap before the next chapter and I'll be sure to help you out :) xx

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Clutching Fred's hand, Juna walked slowly around the corner, away from Elsie, away from Charlie and George's watching eyes. Juna couldn't understand why they were even in this part of town, she assumed because of Charlie, but seriously? Could she not escape these people?

She walked slowly, not knowing what she even wanted to say, knowing that she had to say something. She had hardly been able to contain the guilt about what happened to Fred, she was taking out some unhealthy coping mechanisms to try and cope.
It was clear from Fred's appearance he wasn't doing well either. His shoulders slumped in a defensive and defeated manner, his eyes sagged with dark bags and sunk back into his skull, his cheekbones popped more than before - he clearly hadn't been eating or sleeping.

Fred said nothing as Juna led him toward a bench nestled under a large tree. He let it happen, clearly knowing that words needed to be exchanged between them both.
As they lowered themselves onto the bench, they let go of each other's hand and sat in silence for a full minute.

"Fred..." Juna breathed finally, attempting to summon the strength to say something.

"I don't blame you." Fred mumbled.

Juna looked up at Fred as he spoke.
"I don't blame you, Juna." He still didn't meet her eye.

"But it's my fault. I knew Perseus was a vindictive bastard, hell bent on ruining every aspect of happiness I could ever have. I shouldn't have got involved with George and his family, his friends. So yes Fred, it's my fault." She wiped her mouth with her hand.
"I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so fucking sorry."

"I'm ok though. Look, I'm alive." Fred waved his hand in front of her face, the hand with 4 fingers instead of 5 now.
"Maybe... not a good example." He said as he noticed Juna staring unhappily at the stump where his pinky finger use to be.

"I um... I heard you're suffering from more than physical injuries though."

"So you have been reading Georgie's letters then?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes... well, no. I was ignoring them, but I made the mistake of opening one. The one that detailed how you were going. I promptly moved out of the flat at that point, I couldn't keep receiving them. It was killing me."
Juna studied her hands in her lap, ashamed.

"The Anxiety is starting to fade. The healers have some incredibly effective potions available these days to help manage it, but the PTSD... that's harder."

"I know." Juna nodded.

"How?"

"What?" She looked up at him.

"How do you know PTSD is harder? You said you know as if you actually know. Do you?"

Fred's eyes softened slightly as he studied Juna. Pain was etched on her face, she knew it was. But for once she couldn't control the emotions she exuded.

"I do... I've battled it for some time. Many of the employees at the MIU do at some point or another, many of the things we have to do or witness are traumatic. They really stay with you."

She paused, staring straight ahead at the shop window boasting fine dresses for fine ladies, studying the dipped neckline and delicate lace the surrounded the sleeves.
"It's been under control for a while now. I don't really have flashbacks anymore, when I do I know how to manage them, push them away. I have a habit of burying it so I don't have to actually... deal with it. We've always been trained to push things away, to mask them, bury them. Dealing with emotions has never been an option."