The bell of the off licence rung as Iris exited the shop. Brown paper bag in hand, she knew it looked rather suspicious, she headed in the direction of somewhere familiar. A frequent spot she could usually be found in on the few nights she had off. 

If there was one thing Iris loved since moving to the Leaky Cauldron was the park that was located about 15 minutes away. It was slightly run down and hardly ever used by the local kids, but still it was good enough for her personal use. There was a nice couple of benches located in the park of which were nearly always unoccupied. And therefore, in an evening Iris often found herself walking to the park for a little moment of peace. 

Taking a bottle of alcohol with her wasn't exactly a new thing, she knew that it would be frowned upon drinking so blatantly in public. But that was the reason for the brown paper bag. And there was a muggle pub just around the corner if she got really drunk, she was sure the locals would just think she had wondered from the pub out and into the park for some fresh air. In fact she only really took a bottle of alcohol when she had what she personally liked to call a 'purple day'. A purple day was a day when she couldn't stop thinking about her sister, when Lavender had been so heavy on her mind that it controlled her entire being. Iris had named it a purple day considering her sister's own hatred for her name. And she was sure that is she was going to name anything after Lavender, she would find some way to make her pay. Even a day like today when all Iris was doing was remembering her sister, if she had named it a Lavender day, she was sure she'd wake up tomorrow covered in acne or something. 

But someone being sat on the wooden bench she favoured. That was something new. The most out of character thing about the entire evening was the fact that there was someone sat in her bench. Iris fully intended to walk straight on past them, to the bench just a little further up. After all she could see the smoke from their cigarette long before she could see them. Yet despite this she still slowed a little, something told her to walk past this person slowly. It would seem her subconscious really wanted second hand smoke damage. But she did as though the urge prompted her to, and walked slowly past the person smoking at her preferred bench. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to people smoking, loads of people did it at school it was one of the few things everyone did no matter blood status. 

"Iris?" A voice she was suddenly getting very familiar with called out. And Iris stopped in her tracks definitely for she turned to look at her tall, gorgeous, ginger haired arranged husband. 

"Hello George." Her voice was strong and certain as she stared him down. Challenging him for ignoring her for a few days. It would seem as though the fates were currently working some magic for their relationship. 

"I didn't know you came to this park." He tried to seem nonchalant as if he had never ignored her, as if they had only spoke to one another the day beforehand. But Iris didn't want to forget what had happened between them a few days earlier. She was no longer furious with him, but she could hold a grudge. 

"It's a rather popular park George." Iris shrugged as she stood there feeling rather like a muppet watching as he took another drag from the cigarette he was smoking. 

"Bullshit, only drunks use this park." He replied immediately, and Iris knew he was right she had enough experience herself to know that it was true. 

"I never said I wasn't a drunk." Iris despite the way their words might have seemed like they were bickering still took a seat beside him on the bench. The moment she sat down and placed her little brown bag on the floor beside her, he immediately offered the cigarette her way. 

"I'm okay thanks, don't smoke." Iris waved his offer off and watched as he took another drag before going to put the cigarette out on the very conveniently placed bin next to the bench. 

"Whats your poison then?" George seemed to be fully interested in Iris for the time being.

"Whatever I can get my hands on in the pub." Iris shrugged and subtly hinted at her bag on the floor. 

"I bet you can make a real mean cocktail." 

"We'll have a cocktail night and I'll show you how to make some proper ones and not just mix everything with fire whiskey."

"I don't do that."

"Yeah and I'm not two years younger than you."

The pair's conversations lulled to a stop for a while. It must have been a good twenty minutes that they both sat there, silent watching the world go by. There was nothing to comment on going on in front of them after all they were currently in a very quiet park. All there was adding sound to the background was the clear cheering from the pub as whatever sport was playing, the teams were obviously scoring. 

"Do you reckon it will ever get easier?" George's voice was the one of which broke the silence that had lapsed. 

"I hope it will be less painful." Iris responded, she knew without having to ask what he was referring to. As she too pondered whether things will get easier, if life will eventually sort itself out and get a little easier. 

"Really?"

"I mean I'm really hoping it will. I want to live for them, not in constant pain that they're no longer here." Iris' hand reached down for her paper bag beside the bench. It was heavy as she recalled the bottle inside. She knew the bottle of whiskey in there was heavy, she had brought a rather large bottle after all. Treat yourself was the principle she had employed at the shop and a measly 14 muggle pounds later she had a nice sized bottle and a hangover ready to be brewed in time for the morning. She opened the bottle lid using a skill Iris always like to think developed because of her job and not because of the parties that they all used to drink at whilst still underaged at school. She took a swig from the bottle, a grimace at the initial taste of the alcohol accompanied it. 

"You brought alcohol with you to a park?" George questioned the moment he caught sight of the bottle peaking out the top of the paper bag. He took a moment to stare at Iris' face before returning his gaze to the bottle and then back up again.

"Yeah you want some?" Iris titled the bottle his way, she wasn't against sharing it. And after all, this park was quiet them drinking in it wasn't really a big issue. George's hand reached out without him agreeing to anything for the bagged bottle and she was more than happy to pass it along so he could take it from her. Their fingers brushed and Iris wished she had that instant spark feeling when they did so, just like the books and movies. Yet she felt nothing other than the fact that his hands were freezing, fair enough the end of November was quickly drawing close but his hands were too cold. 

"Jesus George, ever heard of gloves?" Iris almost recoiled away from his insanely cold touch, as if the cold hands had the ability to burn her. 

"Fuck you, my hands are fine?" George's voice was higher in pitch in the first two words. But when he grinned at her Iris knew he was joking. 

"They might as well be turning blue." She chastised him. Though it meant nothing real or harsh or anything but when he responded by knocking his shoulder against her own, she saw it as progress. Sure they probably weren't like a lot of the arranged couples who were going on dates and getting oddly intimate. But they were moving along at their own rate. After all they had until October the next year, there wasn't anything to rush at all about it. 

The pair passed the bottle between themselves until they were both definitely drunk. It didn't take too long to do so, as it would appear both were decent at holding their drink but not brilliant. They were about three quarters of the way through the bottle and Iris could admit she had reached her limit. She wasn't sure George would though. He once again reached for the bottle that was in her hand, a pretty obvious wordless message to say to hand it over. But Iris didn't really want to give it, she might have been fairly intoxicated but she wasn't going to let him get black out drunk. Not if she had to find a way to get him home safely, that wasn't what she was going to do. 

"I think you've had enough Georgie." Her words were sluggish and she knew she had nicknamed him but she hoped it was enough to at least get his attention.

"I'm not finished." His words were probably even more affected by the alcohol he had consumed than hers were. He had probably drunk more than her if she was being honest considering her thoughts were pretty solid. But he had reached his limit. 

"I know, you're not finished but I think you need some water now." Iris was trying to be a little bit responsible, whilst also not slipping into the bartender persona where she would just cut him off for the night because he had too much. After all she couldn't say too much, this was probably the most she had drunk in a while. But it was nice to have someone to drink with for a change. 

"There's not loads left why take the bottle back when we can just bin it." George thought his logic was pretty decent, Iris could tell that. And sure carrying the bottle back would be difficult, thought she would probably put it in the first bin she saw, she had enough disposable income to allow her to buy another bottle when she next wanted to drink. 

"I might want to save it for a rainy day." Iris hoped her ill founded logic would be enough to confuse the drunk man.

"I could make it rain." George's voice filled with an almost childlike wonder as he reached to his coat pocket, where Iris assumed he kept his wand. Not the most safest of places but she supposed they didn't have many of them really. 

"George, no. We're in muggle London don't you dare." Iris felt at his hinting of using magic she had suddenly become a lot more sober than she had been just seconds prior. She really didn't want him getting caught by accident. 

"You just said muggle London out loud that'll give us away." George's voice was much louder than it had been before this moment in time. And Iris hoped to normal passerby's that it sounded just like the mumblings of a very drunk person. The slurred speech and volume should have just made people assume that, Iris would have if her voice wasn't louder than usual and her words slurred. 

"It will if you keep shouting." A drunk George seemed like a lot to put up with but it was entertaining. Good enough to take Iris' mind off the day and the past and into the present. 

"Let's get you home. You're only getting colder." Iris thought that perhaps just getting him home would be enough. She could feel the drop in the temperature outside even whilst drunk. And considering he had been cold beforehand, even though the alcohol made you feel warm. She knew if they stayed out much longer he had the chance of getting ill. 

"I don't want to go home. I don't like being at home. He's there always." George's voice cracked as he spoke the emotion immediately pulling at Iris' emotions. She knew who he was talking about and the problem he was facing. It was the reason she had moved to London in the first place she could no longer be in the same house her sister used to be in. 

"Oh George." Iris wasted no time in manoeuvring as much as she could on the bench to bring him into her arms. He looked like he needed a hug. 

"I think I need help Iris. I can't do this alone anymore." George's voice was a lot quieter than it had been during their conversation. As if he didn't really want to admit it out loud and she wondered if he would have ever said anything if he wasn't drunk.

"And that okay Georgie. You don't have to do it alone anymore. You never have to do it alone again. I'll get you in contact with my lady and you just have to remember I'm here too. We can work things out together." Iris felt as though they really could both benefit from having the support system in place, it wasn't an empty promise. 

Her biggest task came after he had finally agreed to go home. It took a bit of convincing and the offer of a room in the Leaky Cauldron for the night. But he didn't like the idea of that, he wanted to be in a nicer, softer bed. Which she could see, her bed at the Leaky Cauldron was only so nice because she had spelled the mattress until she could find a legitimate reason to buy one for there. Getting into Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron was the easy step considering someone from inside let her in, a regular had obviously recognised the waitress/bartender with ease. 

Walking down Diagon Alley basically dragging a 21 year old man who was quite a bit taller than her. That was not easy in the slightest. Not when he was drunk and about as excitable as a child first brought to the wizard shopping street. George was at every window of the shops they passed looking in, wondering what they were selling. He was jumping about along the cobbles to feel the difference under his feet. He was quick like a toddler and despite not being steady on his feet in the slightest making quick time to his own shop.

"Wow Iris that one has my name on it. And look that's me." George was pointing all over the place when he finally arrived at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Like he was seeing the shop for the first time after having it redone. 

"That sure is George. That's your shop." Iris could feel the sobriety draw up on her a lot quicker than she thought it would. And upon checking the wristwatch she wore she could see that it was drawing closer to 3am.

"My shop. I want to go inside." George was pushing at the door and she wondered if she had severely underestimated how drunk he was, considering he seemed to no longer be affected by the emotional moment he had less than an hour ago. 

"You have the key George." Iris tried to be subtle as she reminded him but she wasn't sure it was going to go well. At all really. He thumbled around with his pockets until a silver key was produced, on a rather cute keychain which looked hand crafted by a much younger child before then attempting to open the lock. Iris watched on as he struggled with the key for a little while before letting himself in.

"'M home now Iris. It's your turn now." George had spun around to look at the young woman who had accompanied him back to the shop he lived above. Iris was wondering if she should probably ensure he gets into bed and doesn't fall asleep downstairs in the shop itself. But she supposed as long as he shut the door and locked it behind him he would be reasonably safe overnight. 

"Okay I'll head home now. Lock that door behind you." Iris waved as she watched him not only wave back but follow her instructions. She didn't move to leave until she watched him lock the door and stand at the shop front window waving away.

The night had gone pretty well in her own opinion. Really well, they had bonded, had a decent time. Even if they had a little emotional moment, nevertheless it was going so well. She just hoped firstly that they could both remember it in the morning, and that the alcohol foggy brain wouldn't interfere with the memories. And secondly that her hangover wouldn't be too bad that she would regret the night. Not that she thought she could ever regret a night spent with George. 

They barely knew each other but she could see the charm. She could see how it could be so easy to fall in love with him. George Weasley was enchanting and he always left you wanting more. Iris just wasn't sure to what extent she wanted more. But she knew she was starting to head down a very dangerous path. Sure there was loads to learn about each other. But Iris knew, that it wouldn't be long before she too fell for him. Just like all those girls beforehand. She just hoped that perhaps these feelings would be reciprocated. She prayed that maybe she could go into this, and not be devastated at the result.