Things had begun to slowly go downhill after the two had finished their sandwiches. Their conversation had fizzled out, and it was clear to Molly that the more irritable Greg was becoming, the better it was if she was more of a silent participant instead of a vocal one. He didn't need her jumping down his throat with encouraging words, or heartfelt advice. She figured that'd just irritate him further. Over the course of the next few hours they had coexisted in almost complete silence, so it surprised her a bit when her brother approached her and asked that she take his wallet from him so he couldn't go out and buy more alcohol. She had assumed they'd be in for a rather long evening when that request had been made, but when it was followed by them agreeing she would make arrangements for Teddy to stay elsewhere for the night, Molly felt apprehensive about just exactly how horrible he was anticipating things to get. On her way to go hide Greg's wallet, she had noticed his wand had been left unattended and grabbed it when he wasn't looking. If he was going to get belligerent, the last thing she needed was him angrily shooting random spells her way. Alone in her bedroom, Molly hid her brother's things under a loose floor board under the window, and covered the spot with a rather large trunk she had been keeping quilts in.
Later, when Greg had grumbled something about going to lie down in his room, Molly had reached out to St Mungos to see if there was something they'd be able to do for her brother. The news had been a bit disheartening. Unfortunately, Greg would most likely have to just muscle through the next several hours, as there wasn't all that much they could do except wait it out until his body was back to a more natural state of homeostasis. All Molly could do was lend her support, and keep an eye out for any sign of a fever, which could possible indicate a more serious reaction to the withdrawal, in which case admitting him would be appropriate. They did, however, offer to send of a package full of electrolyte replenishing potions to help keep him hydrated and give him some energy, which Molly had immediately said yes to.
Molly had just plopped down on the couch after putting away the potions in the fridge when Greg began shouting at her from his room. She hadn't answered, as she knew his inquiry was mainly rhetorical. Letting out a sigh, she settled down with some papers to grade by the light of a small lamp that sat on her end table. She had taken it upon herself to lower the lighting throughout the house, and draw the shades. The kind nurse at St. Mungos has also suggested that a setting with dimmer lights would be a bit more comfortable to be in considering Greg's....condition.
The sound of stumbling quick footsteps, followed by retching coming from the upstairs bathroom made Molly visibly cringe, and to think they had only just begun. As Greg made his way downstairs and questioned her spot on the couch, Molly again chose not to answer him. The truth was she was afraid he'd try to leave the house if she went to bed in her own room, but the squeaky old stairs were much more audible from the couch, and there was no way she'd be able to miss it if he tried to sneak out. Quickly she began to set her work aside, but before she could get up, he was at her side practically begging her to give in to him, and let him drink.
"Molly. Please." He had pleaded. Molly chewed on her bottom lip as she took in just how sickly he looked, and how desperate he sounded. He was glistening with sweat, and looked more ghostly than human. Before she answered, Molly quickly placed her hand on his forehead. It was clammy, but not feverish, at least not yet. Pulling her hand back she sighed.
"I'm sorry Greg. You know I can't do that."
Rising to her feet, Molly offered her arm to him for some support. Seeing him looking so ill was difficult to process. She so badly wanted to take his pain away and help him feel better. But if she gave in, they'd be back at square one, and it'd only make doing this again that much harder.
"Come on now, I'll help you back upstairs to bed, and I'll bring you some water and an electrolyte potion for you to sip on." She said, trying to keep her cool and speak calmly. Based on their experience that afternoon in the kitchen, and the growling tone in which he had spoken just a few moments ago, this could go one of two way. Either he'd give in to her help, and she' get him back upstairs, or he would have none of it, and become angry. Bracing herself for the worst, just in case, Molly stood and quietly waited for her brother to respond, praying this wouldn't turn into an all out war.