|| Alicia & Fred
Fred had two states of being. The one with the bedcurtains and the blank wall and the screaming pain was consciousness, according to the St. Mungo's witch who smelt odd and called him Frederic. Needless to say, he didnât quite trust her. She also said the one with the smoke and the darkness and the mauled faces of Bill and George was unconsciousness. The divide was hazy. Sometimes he could stare at the curtains and watch beads of his brothers' blood roll down them.
He was, or so she told him, conscious when at one point a different face presented itself. He recognised her instantly, but the smoke in his mind obscured her name for a long moment. In the meantime, he propped himself up on bony arms long since atrophied of their Beater's muscle and sat up, slowly. This was one of the better recommendations of that witch's. She did have good advice at times, like "Don't eat that all at once" and "Hold your nose while you drink this" and "Don't try to stand."
"'Licious," he said at last, and tried to remember how to smile.
