Never Give Up

Chapter Eight

There was a tremendous thud as though a weight had been dropped. In a way a weight really had been dropped and Fred felt its sore impact surge through his back. He rolled over with a snore and toppled off the small sofa and onto the ground with a thud. The shock of the fall had him frozen in shock for a couple of seconds where he could hear the clock tick its steady way on as though even time wouldn’t stop just to catch up with him.

‘I reckoned I’d find you here. Protecting Hermione from the dangers of the dark, are you?’ a voice spoke out and Fred jumped a little but when he recognised his brothers voice from the countless fights they have had, he rolled his sleep stricken eyes. Fred sighed softly, feeling his chest heave a little - he must have slept on his stomach too long – and then got up off the floor, ‘I thought you’d stay away from her.’

Ron was leaning against the living room doorway and his eyes were red underneath. There was something that looked oddly like puke on the front of his shirt and his wedding suit didn't seem fit to wear. It seemed fit to through in the bin and burn until they turned to ashes, Fred thought revoltingly. There was also a strong smell of alcohol radiating from his little brother but he didn't look drunk at all. He looked a little hung-over that was all. Fred rubbed a hand over his face and sat down on the table after glancing at the clock which told him it was after noon... late afternoon. The sun was not so high in the sky. Fred wondered if Hermione was asleep or if she had waken but decided he could use some sleep so she didn't wake him up. Fred was just glad it was Sunday.

 ‘Nice to see you, little brother. I saw that blonde hanging from your arm at the wedding. Pretty one, she is. Gave up on her so easy? I reckon she was a keeper, don’t you think?’ asked Fred, mumbling his words a little. His head was also a little sore but Ron scrunched up his eyes when Fred talked as though the mere sound of voice would drive him insane.

‘I wasn’t... I was directing her towards the bathroom. I didn't hook up with anyone at the wedding,’ Ron explained, rolling his eyes and then focusing them directly and accusingly on Fred, ‘but it seems like you did.’

‘I bought her home and one thing lead to another. I was going to stay away from her but... what can I say? She spilt all of her feelings out and I had no choice but to tell her the truth about what I felt,’ Fred sighed and then got to his feet. He looked towards the kitchen and saw that it was empty. Hermione must still be sleeping... or maybe she went to get changed. Fred pointed to the kitchen, ‘want a drink?’

‘A drink? You just woke up,’ Ron narrowed his eyes and Fred raised his eyebrows as if to say what’s-your-point. Ron considered him for a moment and then he shrugged, leading Fred into the kitchen. He dug in the cupboards and found two small glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey. Fred looked over his shoulder as Ron said, ‘Mum will kill us for drinking so much in one weekend.’

‘Scared of Mummy, are you? Leave it to me. Besides, this stuff,’ Fred reached across and grabbed a dark bottle of alcohol, one that Ron had never seen before, ‘is better than firewhiskey, trust me. I never knew Harry had such good taste... or maybe it’s our dear sister that we need to watch out for.’

 Fred poured in two glasses and handed one to Ron who was eyeing him speculatively. Fred raised his own glass and smirked as Ron shook about the clear alcohol in the glass. Fred smiled and raised the glass to his lips, drinking all of it one go and then scrunching his face as though he had sucked a lemon.

‘That’s amazing. Try it,’ Fred muttered but Ron was still eyeing him nervously. Fred rolled his eyes and added in a low tone, knowing his brother hated this, ‘unless you’re too scared.’

That was all it took for Ron to drink the whole glass in one go. He sucked in a deep breath as he swallowed it and leaned on the chair, coughing violently. Fred only laughed and patted his back. His memories went subconsciously back to the time that he used to drink with George and a couple of friends and this was exactly how they were at first; coughing uncontrollably, feeling a huge burning in his throat but it felt amazing and rebellious since they were only fifteen when they drank for the first time.