It's Better If You Do

“…and then we got on our broomsticks and flew off, leaving the fat, pink, bloated toad in the dust,” George finished. He had just finished telling Bellamy the story about how he had left Hogwarts before he got to complete his N.E.W.T.’s. She was staring at him with a lazy sort of smile and unfocused eyes. Two rosy splotches of color had appeared on the apples of her cheeks, making it apparent just how much the Firewhiskey had affected her. Every so often, her body would shake with a hiccup and she’d let out a tiny giggle afterwards.

“That’s really brave of you, George,” she said in a voice that didn’t betray how tipsy she appeared to be. George was well on his way to being drunk as well, but it showed much more obvious in how he occasionally stumbled over his words or slurred them. The tips of his ears had been progressively getting more and more red with every sip of Firewhiskey and now it seemed they glowed red permanently.

“That’s what us Gryffindors are known for: bravery,” he said with a proud nod. Bellamy shook her head as Tom cleared away their empty plates. “Of course, I don’t know why my brother Ron is in Gryffindor, he’s not too brave.”

“You aren’t too brave when it comes to me,” Bellamy said with a smirk. She hiccupped softly, causing her soft ringlets to bounce slightly. George slowly shook his head, smacking his lips together before he took a sip of his Firewhiskey. The had worked their way through one bottle of Firewhiskey and were staring on their next.

“Well…that’s because you’re scary when your angry,” he said with wide eyes, causing Bellamy to let out a loud laugh, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. The old witch beside her gave her a birdlike scowl, almost as if she were insulted to be sitting next to her. Bellamy scowled right back before turning to George.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed, pointing at her and nearly upsetting the Firewhiskey bottle had not he reacted quickly and grabbed it before it fell from the table. “That’s the look you get whenever your angry. Frightening, it is.” Bellamy pouted dramatically, her scowl loosing it’s ferocity with such an exaggerated expression. The woman was dividing her scowl between the two of them now, since they were being quite loud. She was murmuring to her husband, being not too quiet herself, about how improper the two of them were being. Bellamy, with the mixture of her temper and the amount of alcohol consumed, turned to the woman as the color on her cheeks grew in intensity.

“This is a pub, for Merlin’s sake! If you wanted quiet, you should have gone somewhere else, you hag!” She yelled before letting out another violent hiccup that nearly uprooted her from her seat. The woman’s scowl only grew in ferocity at her words as George smothered laughter behind his hand. Bellamy scowled even more at the woman and George stood, noticing they now had the majority of the attention of the Leaky Cauldron. He sobered up slightly as he glanced around and stepped to Bellamy.

“C’mon then…let’s get some fresh air,” he said, gently lifting her from her elbow and guiding her to her feet. She snatched her clutch up from the table in one hand and the bottle of Firewhiskey in the other, murmuring about the “hag“ that had sat next to her the entire time. George quickly put down a few galleons on the table, probably more than was necessary to pay for their meal and both bottles of Firewhiskey, and wrapped an arm around Bellamy’s back as he began to slowly guide her from the pub. She was still scowling at the old woman, craning her neck to look over her shoulder as George opened the door. Bellamy managed to get in one more “Hag!” before the door closed behind her.

To George’s surprise, she was quite steady on her feet as they slowly walked from the Leaky Cauldron, the both of them swaying slightly as it seemed the world was moving beneath them. He then noticed that she was shuddering slightly; it had gotten quite cold since the sun has gone down. Stopping their slow steps down Diagon Alley, he quickly pulled off his jacket and, in a gentlemanly notion, draped it securely over Bellamy’s shoulders. She looked up at him with an appreciative smile, before it seemed she remember the scowling woman and burst out laughing.

“Did you see her face?” She asked cheerfully, through the widest smile George had seen from her. George began laughing as well, nodding in reply. “They shouldn’t let hags like her into the Leaky Cauldron. It’ll be bad for business one of these days.” They began walking slowly again, both of their minds too boggled to realize they were two of the few people that were still out in Diagon Alley.

“I bet you she’s thinking the same thing about us kids,” he said with a shrug. Bellamy snickered and looked over at him before uncorking the bottle of Firewhiskey and tilting it back into her mouth. She offered it to George, who gladly took it from her.

“We’re not kids, George,” she said in a voice so full of disdain and disagreement that anyone could have sworn that she was perfectly sober. “Clearly, anyone can see that weren’t not.” George took a swig of Firewhiskey. He swallowed it and replied in a voice rough from the burn of the liquid.

“Then what are we if we aren’t kids?” Bellamy suddenly stopped walking an extremely thoughtful expression falling over her features as she swayed a bit on the spot. George took only two more steps before he stopped and turned to look at her, curious as to what her answer would be. A smile slowly crept across her lips and her eyes crinkled slightly with mirth.

“We, Sir George, are drunk,” she replied causing them both to fall back into snickering as they began walking yet again. Well…Bellamy tried to walk and George tried to keep her off the ground. Finally, George returned the Firewhiskey bottle to her grasp and crouched down so that she could climb onto his back. He looped his arms under her thighs for added support and they continued on toward the shop. He was amazed at how light the girl was and he let her know it before putting an extra bounce in his step. This had Bellamy squealing loudly and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Just because I’m light doesn’t mean you can toss me around like a Quaffle,” she said in a disapproving voice that reminded him an awful lot like his mum.

“I thought you didn’t like broomsticks, Mademoiselle Lefebvre,” George taunted playfully, glancing over his shoulder to her. She scoffed, pouting a bit at him.

“Just because I’ve never flown a broomstick doesn’t mean that I don’t know how others play Quidditch,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. George merely hummed in response as they stopped in front of the shop. He let go of Bellamy’s legs as she stood beside him, slipping her arms through the sleeves of his jacket as they both silently contemplated walking through the door. They both had their wit’s enough about them to know that Fred and Rose were still there and deserved to be alone.

“Let’s go somewhere to look at the stars,” Bellamy said in a softly commanding voice, turning to George suddenly. He looked over at her hesitantly.

“Where is that?” He asked, raising a brow. Bellamy looked around for a bit, trying to look for the highest place somewhere close that wouldn’t be blocked by any buildings.

“The top of the shop,” she said, pointing up to the roof. George still had a hesitant look on his face as he glanced between the roof and Bellamy.

“I don’t know,” he said, his words slurring together more than they had before, “I’ve never been there before.” Bellamy scoffed and looped her arm tightly through his.

“You’re a wizard. Just apparate us there before I start calling you ‘hag’,” she said impatiently. George cracked a wide grin at Bellamy, realizing that she was actually touching him and standing next to him by choice.

“Right,” he said slowly, causing Bellamy to laugh lightly and look up at him. “On three then: one…two…three…” They turned on the spot and it was only a blink of an eye that they felt an uncomfortable feeling of being suffocated before they found themselves on the roof of the shop. Bellamy quickly detached herself from George’s arm, much to his dismay, placing down the bottle of Firewhiskey on the roof, and walked over to the waist-high ledge around the top of the building and leaned over to look down upon the alley before glancing up to the sky. It seemed that only a few of the brightest of the stars were visible to them.

“Oh, I forgot how hard it was to see stars in the city,” she said softly in a slightly downhearted voice before stumbling a bit over herself as she tried to step backwards and falling onto her backside with a loud thud that could have no doubt been heard in the shop. George laughed lightly at her before walking over to her, stumbling a bit himself. She laughed a bit as well at George as he pulled her to her feet again. She let out a sigh as she turned, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head to the side.

“You know what? This isn’t so bad,” she said softly, turning and looking up at him.

“What isn’t so bad?” He asked once he had recovered from his bout of laughter. She grinned widely and secretively to him before stepping past him, making sure to brush his arm with hers, picked up the bottle of Firewhiskey she had put on the ground, and took a large gulp of it to keep from talking.