𝘀𝗺𝗲𝗲, george weasley

˗ˋ 09

CHAPTER NINE
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-: the beginnings :-

── IN WHICH SHE HAS A HEADACHE

. . .

It wasn't too surprising that Rhea woke up with a headache, even if it was just the slightest of things, a small, dull ache pulsating by her temples as she forced herself to sit up. Her hair was a knotted mess in the nape of her neck, escaped curls matted in a way that reminded her of her father. 

"Fucking hell." She whined, eyes flickering shut again in the harsh morning light. The words didn't seem to fit her at all, yet she just felt so out of it that they slipped out. 

They had drunk a lot of butterbeer - and the drink wasn't even that alcoholic yet she had drunk that much it had affected her like this. It hadn't hit her during her traipse back to her attic with George Weasley, but it certainly hit her now. 

It was quickly fixed though, and when the girl finally forced herself out of bed and over to her tiny kitchen, muttering spells all over. She set up her cauldron, honeywater bubbling in the bottom of it in no time. 

Added to the honeyway came finely chopped ginger and willowbark, a singular dried dirigible plum. Clover settled onto her shoulder with a content roar, climbiing down her arm and only adding to the small fire beneath the cauldron, temperature heightening.

Then, in a simple movement of her wrists, she added springs of lemonbalm and peppermint, five dried billywig sprigs. And when the potion boiled a rather dark colour, she added the final touch. A sprinkle of crushed amethyst, considered to be a strong antidote against drunkenness mixed with a teaspoon of Armadillo bile to help bring down the pH. And with that combination, the potion turned into a pale lilac colour, a shimmering sheen. 

The fire was distinguished with a wave her wand, which she had been using to stir the potion of course. Drying it on the silken shorts of her old Beauxbatons pajamas, she summoned several different coloured glass vials and bottled up the purple liquid.

Three she saved for later, storing in in one of the kitchen cabinets amongst other potions. Two she placed near the door so not to forget it and the final she held up to her lips, placing the slightly thicker rim against pink and tilted her head backwards, swallowing it in one.

The effects were instantaneous, but began to kick in as she got showered and ready, opting for a simpler outfit. She really was putting her Beauxbatons uniform to use - her summer uniform had consisted of a pale blue pleated skirt, which was easily turned a beige colour by a short spell. With that, she wore a thin, looser-necked turtle neck in cream and then over that a olive green sweater with the stranger, fanatical image embroidered onto the front (it involved several unicorns, centaurs, a mermaid, nargles and what was suspected to be appearance of a Heliopath).

She ate some blueberry jam on toast after that, preparing a saucer of milk for the very pampered Clemency - who had provided for Clover by catching a mouse that she refused herself - before pulling on her one thigh-high mustard yellow sock and the other, only knee-high brown one (this one had a ring of daisys embroidered around the band) and the black battered Converse, laces scattered with beads.

Leaving the beetroot-purple stained teacup to soak in the sink, Rhea said her goodbyes to the creatures settled on the end of her bed, pocketed the two vials of hangover potion as she grabbed her bag and slipped out of the door. 

She knew she was late, but that didn't seem to matter. Because when she pushed open the orange front door into the premises of Weasely Wizard Wheezes, she spotted both Fred and George leaning against the walls they had painted the previous day, blinking up wearily at her.

"How are you so okay?" Fred groaned. "You're a lightweight as well, but me and Georgie, well we're used to this."

"Many parties? I'm guessing of course." Rhea turned to the twin closest to her - George - and crocuh beside him, holding out a vial. "Here, drink this. Fred - you can catch right?"

"Mhm." Was then followed by a "Oof-" as the Lovegood girl threw the second vial of pale lilac liquid at the second twin. Fred had downed it within seconds, but remained seated with his eye closed.

George however, was so groggy that he was having trouble with the stopper. "Here, let me help you." Rhea reached out and managed to pry it back out of a very tired twin's hand, pulling out the cork. "It's the least I can do after you walked me back to my flat."

"You have a miniature dragon." Came George's reply, letting Rhea tip his head back slightly and holding the vial to his lips. "Did you make this?" He asked, and across from him, Fred was waking up a little more.

"How much butterbeer do you have to drink to get a headache like that?" He groaned as he pulled himself to his feet. "It must be because of how sweet it is."

That made a lot of sense, but whatever it was that worsened the hangover was fixed quickly by the potion Rhea made, and in no time at all they had set out to work on the shop once again.

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