The Life of Charlie:
The Second Son
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This disclaimer stands for all the vignettes I post.
Written for the Family Boot Camp Challenge, and the Fantastic Beasts Challenge.
If there was one thing that could be said about Charlie Weasley, it was this: he loved his family.
Honest, he did.
Only sometimes they got on his nerves. Like today.
Tomorrow, Bill was leaving for Hogwarts. Mum said that while he was gone Charlie would be the oldest in his place.
Charlie knew what that meant. It meant he had to help mum around the house, and with the younger Weasleys, even more than he already did. He had to be someone the younger children looked up to, a role model. A model of good behaviour who followed the rules and didn't act out. And he had to do all that while keeping up with the work mum set him. 'Homework,' she called it. That made no sense to Charlie - he was always at home, so what other work would it be?
Without Bill, he didn't know how he was going to cope.
Bill was the one who calmed his nightmares by sleeping in the same bed as him. Bill had the same nightmares himself; sometimes Charlie would awaken to the sound of a child's cry and Bill's fingers would be digging into his arms. Once Bill had buried his nose in Charlie's hair, breathing him in, his hands shaking.
Charlie had snuggled closer to his big brother, feeling... almost safe. It had been the first time he felt like that after waking up in the middle of the night.
Right at that moment Charlie was sitting on a broom, sideways - his legs both on one side. His socked feet (he hadn't stopped to put on shoes) were swinging back and forth. He could see the orchard beneath him; he wasn't that far up.
Still, Bill would have said, "It's dangerous to sit like that."
To which Charlie would have replied, "It's exciting, you mean. I like it. It makes my heart beat really fast - I like it." And then he would have smiled up at his big brother, who, after trying to look stern, would have smiled back.
He was going to miss Bill something awful.
Bill who was probably still in the kitchen at that very moment.
Charlie could still hear Ginny's high-pitched keening, even from up in the air.
She hadn't stopped for ages, like she knew Bill was leaving. Now, while Charlie had shared that sentiment, the sound made him want to rip his ears off. It seemed like there was always someone screaming in that house.
Earlier, when Charlie had gone to the kitchen to grab a bucket and scrubbing brush, one twin hadn't stopped making these strange noises. It had been a while before someone figured out that it was laughter. Why the twin was laughing, well, that was one question of the day.
When Charlie had walked through the kitchen the second time, Bill had been crouched in front of the laughing twin. "Why are you laughing, Fred?" He'd asked, curious.
"That's George," Percy had said, standing beside the other twin. Both hovered behind their mother, who was rocking Ginny.
"Are you sure?" Bill asked.
Percy shrugged, looked to their mother for an answer, but she had none to give. (Charlie'd had a sneaking suspicion even she didn't know who was who. Both twins had been dressed the same; right down to their socks. They always were for some reason, as if their clothes had been duplicated with a spell.)
That's when Charlie had left them there, in the kitchen, and gone outside for some peace and quiet. And that was what he had now, as Ginny's cries had stopped, but he still wasn't any happier. Before he'd passed through the kitchen, he'd been clearing up Ron's vomit in the sitting room. The smell had almost made Charlie vomit. He'd had to clean it up by hand, too. No magic -but wasn't that always the way when it came to chores?
When he'd finished, he sat back on his heels, thinking that was it. How naïve he'd been.
Because that was when Ginny had started to scream. He'd felt a headache starting to pulse behind his eyes. And he remembered thinking: And so it begins.
Charlie wondered what it would be like to just fly away. He felt like the wind teasing his hair, and caressing his skin, was beckoning him. Beckoning him towards the big, wide world outside of the orchard.
He could do it.
He could just let the wind take him. What was stopping him?
Charlie had never strayed from the boundaries of the orchard, he didn't know why. But he wanted to, now. He wanted to so much that he ached.
Still, as he couldn't remember ever leaving the familiarity of his home, the thought of the outside world was a bit daunting.
Also, just a little bit exciting.
A smile curved his mouth.
Then his dream fell to pieces around him when he heard his name on the wind. Someone was calling him. Calling him back. One of his brothers, probably Percy - he was less conspicuous than the soon-to-be Gryffindor, Bill.
Charlie didn't want to go. Oh, it hurt him to think such things but he didn't. Want. To. Go.
Not back down there.
If there was anywhere he wanted to go, it was away. Away from here. Away from them.
He immediately felt guilty. He moved closer to the house, ignoring the wind whipping his hair, pulling him back.
No further, it seemed to cry to him. No more...
I can't... He thought, sadly. Charlie continued to move closer. The voice calling his name became louder - as did the cries of the wind, it seemed.
Undaunted, he stayed on his course, towards the house. If his mum hadn't already seen him outside, flying when he wasn't supposed to, she would if he didn't get down soon. And she'd give him such a beating he wouldn't be able to walk straight after, he was sure of it. Not that it was his fault his parents had forgotten to lock up the brooms, they had the twins to thank for that. Running them ragged, they'd been, and then there'd been Ron and his sick stomach; Ginny and her keening.
Even so, Charlie didn't think his mum would care to know that.
He touched down on the grass. Looked behind him and up; up at the grey sky that seemed to reflect his mood. The wind wasn't as strong down here. But it still felt like his only chance had slipped out of his grasp. It felt like Charlie was stuck here now.
He held in a sigh, turned back to the Burrow. Took his first step towards what awaited him for the rest of his life, if he let it.
Charlie intended to do anything but that.
