Spitfire | Fred Weasley [2]

Chapter Eighty-Four

tw: mentions of drug abuse

[Spitfire : Chapter Eighty-Four]

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5 September, 1997

The first time Wendy cried that day, she was fifteen minutes late for her mission with the boys, and the next of kin. At that moment, she stood in the dining hall of her apartment, hovering over Isaac Deehan as his head drooped and mind swirled with the effects of too much oxycontin in his system. She held up the bottle, which was missing the label and was surely filled too much to be doctor-perscribed. "Isaac, where did you get these?" The boy didn't reply, too out of his mind to comprehend his surroundings. Wendy, in her 5'0" stature stood like a dragon stalking her prey. She nudged him in the shoulder, his head bobbed up from where it was lying against the counter. "I said, where did you get these, Isaac?"

The boy still didn't reply, and Wendy's fuse was growing short.

Wendy woke around ten am, the apartment completely silent. She assumed Isaac was asleep in his bedroom, so Wendy continued her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Two hours passed, her reading the Daily Prophet and listening to the muggle news, before she decided it was time for breakfast. Not knowing what Isaac would like, she went to wake him up to ask him. And that was where she found him on the floor, beside his bed, in a pool of vomit and unconscious. Naively, her initial thought was that he had a stomach virus--but by the way he acted when she woke him up, she recognized the symptoms. He was high. While she wanted to scold him, she first helped clean him up and then sat him in the dining room as she cleaned the vomit off of his floor. Next, she went searching for the bottles. She found oxycontin in his drawer, uncapped and spilling onto his belongings. Assuming he took that, she grabbed it with initiative to interrogate. Momentarily leaving behind the unopened xanax and percestets she also found.

Of course, as she cleant the throw up off the floor, a familiar illuminating shaggy dog jumps through the window and tells her it is time to retrieve Regulus Black, before vanishing altogether. So now she was stuck in a purgatory of fulfilling a promise, and protecting her child-figure that possibly took too much medicine for his body to handle.

Wendy hit the table, and Isaac opened his droopy eyes. "Where did you get these?!"

He groaned, his words slurring together, "I had a headache."

"I didn't ask why you took them, I asked where did you get them?"

Isaac didn't respond, instead collapsing his head into his arms and mumbling. Wendy pulled out the chair beside him and sat down, leaning forward so she could be closer to his ear. "Isaac, I know why you took these, okay? But tell me where you got them?"

He sat up, growing hostile as his mind continued to recollect soberness. "Why'd I take 'em, huh? Wendy, Miss. I-Know-Everything, why'd I take 'em?"