He's eleven years old, listening to an infinitely older and wiser Bill (age thirteen) tell him about the wonders of the female gender; expound upon the glories of the fairer sex.
"It's like… flying," Bill says, "but there are tits, so it's even better."
Charlie takes a moment to wonder how anything could be better than flying, and how in the world tits could make anything better.
~P~
Tonks, predictably, is his first kiss for both genders. His worst fears are confirmed when, as his lips mash up against hers in the best fashion that two fourteen-year-olds can manage, he feels nothing but disappointment and wrong, wrong, wrong.
Tonks just smiles sadly as she pulls away and sees his downtrodden face. "Shame, really. I know about twelve girls that are liable to die of a broken heart."
Two weeks later, she's shoving him into a deserted classroom with an excited smile that worries him. "I've been practicing," she says, and his day gets better—becomes one of the best days of his life as her face transforms into seventh-year Carl Tumlin's. "I can't manage the other bits," he (and with that voice and that strong jaw, there's no way Charlie can think of Tonks as anything but a he right now) says, "but I figure this is good for now, yeah?"
Charlie answers with a kiss that produces much better results than their last.
~P~
There might be a small, minute possibility that his interest in Quidditch isn't as wholesome as everyone thinks.
But then again, he thinks, in the locker room after a particularly spectacular game, watching Gerard Turpin take off his shirt, that isn't a bad thing.
~P~
He's eighteen and about to leave for his first year training with the dragons when he finally decides to tell the people who matter most.
His parents act exactly as he imagined—his father clears his throat and pulls him into a lung-crushing hug, while his mother tells him she loves him and starts making a list of friends to call about finding him a 'nice boy to settle down with once this dragon business is out of your system.'
Charlie looks over at Bill, waiting for the shouting, or the accusations, or the mocking, or the punch to the face, or the millions of other terrible scenarios that he's run through his head a million times. Bill just smiles and says, "Not all Weasley men could like women—the rest of the world would kill us all just to get some attention from the ladies."
Charlie laughs, and feels the weight of secrecy lift off his shoulders.