New Beginnings

Positive?

The concerning yet unpleasant sounds of echoed gagging and choking coming from the bathroom woke Veronica out of her sleep that morning.

As she adjusted her eyes and focused her ears on the worrying and sickening sounds, she realised it was her Mother. Had it had been any isolated instant, the concern on her face wouldn't be as prevalent, but this was now the third time Hermione had woken up sick, emptying her guts out on the bathroom floor, and the sudden shifty behaviour she had picked up on between Fred and her Mother certainly didn't help her fears.

She threw her duvet off her body, quickly swinging her leg over the bed and briskly walking down the hall towards the bathroom and cautiously leaning in, propping her ear against the door and gently knocking her fist against the the wood.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Hermione abruptly rose her head from the bowl as she heard her daughters scared voice, her eyes gaping wide as she released a shallow breath from her lungs and gathered herself together the best she could.

"Y- yeah, honey I'm fine." She stammered, flushing the toilet and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, rising from the ground and settling her jittery nerves as she prepared to open the door.

Veronica lifted her head as she heard the unlocking sound on the other side, finding her Mother's infamous faux sweet smile that she painted on when she was trying to hide something.

"Are you sure?" Veronica asked wearily, staring her up and down. "What if you're coming down with something?"

"Of course I'm sure sweetie!" Hermione assured her, wanting to put her feet filled daughter at ease. "If anything, it's probably just a bug." She explains with a soft smile appearing on her face. "Try not to worry, okay? It's my job to worry about you. Not the other way around."

She could tell through Veronica's tight smile that the young girl wasn't buying a single word of it, and simply trying to respect her Mother's wishes, but as she calmly stepped aside and made her way down the mahogany staircase to find Fred sat at the island, appearing distant with his head in his hands and a steaming mug of coffee at on the coaster in front of him, she couldn't help but feel wracked by guilt.

"This is not going to get any easier, is it?" Hermione rhetorically doubted, running her french manicured fingers through her silk raven hair, immediately pacing back and forth. "I just hate lying to her!"

"She heard you throwing up, huh?" Fred concerned as he stood from the island, calmly approaching her and resting his hands on her shoulders. "How about I make you some ginger ale? Settle your stomach?"

"Think I need something stronger, don't you?" Hermione callously retorted, shoving past him and reaching for the liquor cabinet door, briskly pulling out a bottle of scotch along with a glass and beginning to pour.

A highly concerned Fred sighed in frustration before prying the glass out of her hands and slamming it onto the counter, much to her dismay. "That's not gonna help!" He sternly advised her, his hazel eyes filled with a blend of vexation and worry gazing into her before turning soft. "I know things are tough right now, but we have to keep it together. Both of us."

He understood the plight of her struggles, he wasn't handling recent events so well himself, but the acting out and drowning of sorrows in alcohol wasn't the solution and he knew that all too well.

An edgy Hermione finally allowed her sturdy wall to fall down, reluctantly and calmly relaxing and denying the temptations of the booze as Fred rested his comforting hands on her shoulders.

"I killed him." She whispered through a shaky tone, running her frail hand through her hair before leaving it over her mouth. "I took someone's life. He was a bastard, I know, but I can't just forget about it."