The dark grey light of dawn started to filter through the gap in the curtains. Charlie had been awake for hours. Dreading and waiting. Soon Charlie would hear the quiet rumble of his parents talking in the kitchen as his mum made breakfast. He'd been putting off this day for weeks and he had to face the reality that there was no reasons left to put it off.

Charlie rolled onto his back on the narrow cot, away from Harry who gave a moan of protest as cold air hit his bare skin. Harry burrowed his head under the featherdown pillow as Charlie pulled the quilt up to cover him.

In May Harry had offered to bunk with Charlie in his and Bill's old room so that Ron and Hermione could be together up in the attic. Harry's nightly nightmares had had Charlie rousting out of bed to quiet him before his shouts had woken the house. Somehow in the dark it had all turned into something more. They'd been sharing his single cot for weeks, Charlie sleeping with his arms wrapped tight around Harry, keeping the demons away.

Harry was going through the motions of moving on but Charlie knew that Harry was hiding something. Something that haunted him night and day. Harry went through the motions of moving on. He played chess with Ron, helped Ginny prep for Quidditch tryouts, he sat at the table everynight and listen and smile at the conversations but never joined in. Never laughed.

Now it was nearly September and Charlie was long overdue to return to Romania. His worn canvas duffle bag was already packed and resting on the other cot. Charlie had put off leaving four times already, owling excuse after excuse to Stavros the foreman. The ultimatum had come yesterday: Charlie was to take the next portkey or they would hire someone else for Charlie's spot.

Harry hadn't said a word yesterday as he'd read Stavros' owl over Charlie's shoulder at the kitchen table. He'd just turned and headed out the door like he'd been doing for weeks. Harry walked the country lanes and footpaths alone for hours, returning long after tea time.

The worry for their friend cast a shadow over Ron and Hermione's joy of being in love. They were ready to move on. Hermione was returning to Hogwarts for the special eighth year term. Ron was helping George at the shop. George's grief for Fred making it to hard for him to run things day to day. Harry had spoken not a word about what he planned to do next. Kingsley had come to try and persuade him to the Ministry and Harry had refused.

With a deep sigh, Charlie got up gently, not wanting to wake Harry. They hadn't defined what this was between them. Never talked about sharing the single cot. Charlie didn't even know if Harry was gay, or if he just needed to be held in the dark to be safe. Who would hold him once Charlie went away?

"Charlie."

He turned to see Harry awake and watching him.

"I need to go." Charlie wished his voice hadn't cracked as he spoke. He didn't want to hurt Harry by knowing how much leaving was tearing Charlie apart.

"Stay." Harry whispered the word, his face was in shadow so Charlie couldn't read his expression. Charlie's heart cracked as Harry said the one word that Charlie had been wanting to hear for weeks. Did Harry really need him, or just someone, anyone to hold him and stave off the nightmares.

"Please stay." Harry reached out his hand and Charlie took a half step towards him before making himself stop.

"Why?"

"I…" Harry's hand fell to the mattress and his head sank back into the pillow.

"Harry. I can't do this anymore." Charlie's shoulders sagged and he backed away.

Grabbing his jumper Charlie pulled it on before jamming on his trousers. "If you want me to stay you have to give me a reason to stay. You need to talk to me." Charlie looked back and Harry's head was turned towards the window.

Charlie bit back whatever else he was going to throw at him. Whatever Harry was hiding, having Charlie yell at him wouldn't help. "I'm going, my portkey leaves in an hour. If you need me, you'll know where I'll be."

He picked up his duffle and walked to the door. Charlie was halfway through the doorway when Harry spoke.

"I died."

"What?" Charlie turned back, Harry had spoken so softly that Charlie didn't think he'd heard him correctly.

"That night. I died." Harry was staring at Charlie. "I died. I let him curse me and I died because it was the only way. The only way to defeat him."

Charlie's mouth fell open as he started to deny what Harry was saying until he remembered the overheard whispered conversations between Kingsley and his parents. One of the first nights back when they'd been so worried about Harry. They had talked about what the interrogations with the Death Eaters. They had said that Harry had been cursed and had survived.

"You died."

Harry nodded and turned to look out the window again. "It was so quiet. And peaceful. And I wanted to stay there forever. But I couldn't. I came back and now Voldemort is dead and everything is moving on and I can't stop thinking how lovely it had been to...not be here anymore." Tears were sliding down Harry's cheeks and Charlie dropped his case and flew across the room. The cot groaned as Charlie climbed in next to Harry and wrapped him tightly in his arms.

"Talk to me."