Malignant ••• George Weasley

Chapter 55 - Drunk

"Sit your arse down." George ordered, pointing at one of the wooden stools that bordered the small kitchen island.

"You're not the boss of me." Juna sassed back, crossing her arms against her body.

"Oh, now look. You've gotten blood all over your shirt." He sighed. "Just please, sit. I need to fix up your hand and then get back out there."

"Out where?"

"To the shop. It's the grand re-opening today."

George gently grabbed the reluctant and drunk Juna by the upper arm and led her to the stool, making her sit. She stumbled slightly before planting herself and looking down at her hand for the first time since apparating.
Her left hand was splinched, there was a chunk of her flesh missing from her palm that was bleeding profusely.

"You're lucky you didn't leave your whole fucking hand behind." George grumbled as he rummaged through a cabinet.
"The hell were you thinking? Apparating while drunk?"

"You wanted me to tell Fred I wasn't allowed to see him, so here I am." She snapped.

"It could have waited until tomorrow! It's hardly midday, Juna! Why are you so drunk?"

"Because you were a bitch to me, Georgina." She slurred, giggling.

George rolled his eyes, walking back over to her with two small bottle's in his hand.
"Give me your hand." He said. "I didn't realise me being a bitch to you would turn you to the bottle."

"There's lots you don't realise about me."

"Drink this. It's sobering solution." He held out one of the bottles to her, ignoring her last comment.

"No!"

George looked up with mild amusement.
"Why not? Juna, the alcohol is making your blood thin so you're bleeding more. Plus you're being really quite annoying."

"I want to be drunk. It feels better for my heart."

A flicker of something crossed George's face, but Juna couldn't pick up on what it was.

"Fine. Well, hold still. I'm going to perform the healing spell then apply dittany so it doesn't scar."

Juna scoffed. "What's another fucking scar? I'm essentially Frankenstein at this point."

George held her hand firmly in his grasp, the wound was pooling blood that dropped down her arm and onto the floor. He pulled out his wand and cleared his throat, concentrating hard.

"Vulnera Sanentur." He muttered the incantation three times as he traced the wound with the tip of his wand.

The blood stemmed and the flesh slowly knitted itself back together, eventually leaving nothing but a nasty scar in its wake. George unstoppered the bottle of dittany and applied a few drops to the scar which then faded to nothing.

Juna flexed her hand a few times, testing out the new skin.
"You're a good healer. Maybe you should be a doctor."

George said nothing as he put the unused sobering solution and the dittany back in his cabinet.

"Is Fred here?"

"Of course he is." George replied.

"Can you get him? I have to tell him I can't help him with his PTSD anymore because George said so."

George paused.
"Help him with his PTSD?"