Disclaimer: i do not own anything you recognize
A/N: this one was hard, not going to lie. but on the upside - 3/4 previous stories have been charlie stories! oh yeah. haha not much else too this one. I hope you guys like it :) thanks to Lucy and Nancy for the beta! both are awesome writers (My Dear Professor McGonagall, thosedarndursleys).
qlfcS4R5: catapults' beater 1: write about Charlie Weasley (the weasley mystery box's character prompt); prompts - 1. 'let's face it, this isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing' - tony stark, 9. word - dangerous, 13. phrase - under lock and key; the word count is 2801 according to wordcountertool
Seeking
Charlie Weasley was nine the first time he made a big catch.
Charlie and Bill, who had one-year old Ginny on his shoulders, were walking out of the house as Charlie began to pester his older brother once again about Hogwarts, where he would finally be going in just two weeks for his first year. It seemed drastically unfair to Charlie that he had to wait a whole year before he got to go, too.
"Tell me about Peeves again."
"Paa!" Ginny shouted.
Bill looked up and smiled at her before answering Charlie. "Good job, Ginny. You could just read the book, you know," Bill told him. Charlie rolled his eyes. This was the first time Bill had put down his tattered copy of Hogwarts: A History since Mum had bought it for him two weeks ago.
"You tell it better."
They settled on the grassy hill as Charlie began to ask about midnight astronomy classes, and Bill laid out the quilt embroidered with Ginny's name, placing her on top of it so she was free to crawl. Ginny had been getting into everything, and Mum had said that it was only a matter of time before she started walking. Bill and Charlie had been tasked with keeping their sister occupied in the yard while Mum prepared dinner, with Ginny out of her reach for the first time in a long time.
Charlie watched Ginny as she began to move around, picking at dandelions in the grass on the edge of her blanket.
"Hey." Bill, who had disappeared briefly to the broomshed, caught Charlie's attention and tossed him an old, beaten-up Quaffle over Ginny's head. Charlie caught it, stood up, and tossed it back. "Peeves is a poltergeist; drives the students crazy, apparently." Bill tossed it again.
Charlie caught it. "And who's he scared of?"
"The Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin house," Bill explained.
"You're gonna be scared."
Bill tossed it back hard. "That's what you think."
There was a peal of laughter, and they both looked at Ginny. She was playing a game with herself where she lay on her back, rolled onto her tummy, and then back again, giggling all the while. Simultaneously, the brothers stood and took two steps back from the blanket, upping their catch game. It was unspoken, as usual; the loser is the first to drop.
"What house do you think you'll get?"
Toss.
"Hopefully Gryffindor."
Catch.
"You're too much of a prat."
Toss.
"Well at least I'm not—" Charlie noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
"Bill, look!"
Ginny was on two legs, taking tiny but confident steps across the quilt. Her expression was nervous.
"You can do it," Charlie said, but he was surprised to hear it come out in a whisper. He was nervous, too.
And all of a sudden, Ginny stepped out and her foot came down on uneven ground; it twisted beneath her. She cried out and she began to fall, but Charlie sprang forward, and she landed in his arms, startled and crying.
.o.
Charlie made another brilliant catch when he was twenty-two, and his brother Ron wasn't a baby, but he was definitely in immediate peril.
Charlie heard the fighting the second he got home from lunch with an old school friend.
He didn't know much about Hermione Granger, but what he had learned since meeting her a week ago he very much liked. She didn't take anything from anybody, especially Ron, and she could walk the walk as well, acting much older than her fourteen years.
He also had quickly learned her level head seemed to explode whenever Ron pushed the right buttons.
Charlie knew what she could do with a wand, too. That was a dangerous situation if he'd ever seen one.
"He's just a cat, Ron! He doesn't know any better, I've told you that. He just wants to mind his own."
"He'd have no trouble minding his own outside of my room. Let him go hunting." Charlie started up the stairs.
"He does."
"And then don't go back inside."
"It's not fair that the only one he listens to is you and you let him destroy my stuff anyway. You're not my mum, Hermione. Don't act like it and play terminator to all my stuff."
Hermione's voice broke the tiniest bit. "I...I don't want to fight. I want to spend time with you. You invited me, this is important to me."
"Well if I knew you were gonna be Mum number two I don't know why I even—"
Charlie pushed open the door faster than humanly possible. "Why I even let us spend time here when there's so much to do!" Charlie surveyed the damage. Hermione looked to be between wanting to know what he was going to say, pushing him off the roof, and being hurt. It was in her eyes. The comments had stung. Ron was in a fighting stance, clearly ready to say whatever was on his mind, but he seemed to slowly be catching up to his fiery temper, and he looked down as his ears flushed red.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Sorry...we were so loud..."
Charlie waved her off before she could finish. "Not a problem. Listen, you guys should get out of this stuffy house. We don't have long-term company a lot. Go get ice cream at Fortescue's, my treat, and stay out until you're expected for dinner. Too much time in here can make you go crazy." He gave Hermione a charming smile, who seemed to be looking at Ron, waiting for him to accept the idea.
Ron broke out into a smile. "Really Charlie? You're the best."
Hermione looked him in the eye. "Thank you."
"Of course. Now, would you mind going downstairs so I could have a private word with my brother for a moment?" Hermione smiled at him and went downstairs.
Charlie looked at Ron, who was looking away. He kept his voice low. "You like this girl?"
"As a friend."
"A good friend?"
"Great."
"Then don't muck it up, you tosser!" Charlie shoved him, and Ron shot him a glare as he exited the doorway.
He popped his head back in. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
.o.
Charlie had another great catch a year later, in his mother's living room.
"Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing." Fred was looking indignant, but Charlie could only stare.
Fred stood in the middle of the living room, his foot tapping in his signature tick, with two people whom Charlie took to be Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson, although admittedly it was a little hard to tell at first glance; their faces were dyed brilliant shades of red and green, respectively.
Mum was out, apparently, but Charlie knew that Fred would be in deep if Mum came home and caught Fred testing on his friends.
"Where's George?" It was the first of his mental list of questions.
Fred scowled and rolled his eyes. "Upstairs. Dying, apparently. Won't stop throwing up, he's green and pale as a ghost all at once, and he's got a huge fever, according to Mum. She went out to get medicine but needs to talk to Dumbledore about Harry first."
"Hi Charlie!" Lee Jordan grinned, flash pearly whites in the sea of red that covered his face. "How's the dragons?"
Angelina said hello, too, but only looked at him for a moment before she continued to glare at Fred.
Charlie grinned. "Hello, there. Not much has changed, you know. They still breath fire, still make me happy one day and stressed the next. But I'm sure this is far more interesting."
"Not really," Fred said meekly.
"Yes, really." Charlie looked back at their dyed faces and laughed. "Merlin, what did you do?"
"Just...working on something. We usually test it on ourselves, but since George is sick, I asked Lee and Ange. They were pretty willing when I took it and they realized it wouldn't kill them, but about five minutes later I turned to this," Fred said, gesturing to his face, "and so did they."
"What's it supposed to do?"
"It's just supposed to turn your tongue a bright color that lasts for days. The stuff is white and the color you get is random."
"You didn't tell me that!" cried Angelina. "I can't go around like this for days!"
"I dunno, I kind of like it," Lee grinned, and she shot him a murderous look.
Fred looked annoyed. "It didn't work properly, anyway."
"Stop!" called Charlie, before they could get carried away. "Let me see what you ate." Fred picked up a spoon from the coffee table and pulled a bag out of his pocket. In the bag was a fine, sweet-smelling powder that looked like sugar. Charlie pulled out his wand and pointed, turning the powder into three solidified pieces of candy that looked like beans. With another tap of his wand, he dyed them blue, red, and green, each.
Charlie extended his hand and winked. "Now it's Bertie Botts' fault, if Mum asks."
...
He passed the three of them and took the rickety stairs two at a time until he reached the twins' room and took a breath, preparing himself for George when he was sick. It wasn't pretty.
There George was, just as Fred described him. He looked miserable, and his face was indeed a sickly pale green. Looks notwithstanding, when he saw Charlie he grinned and began a monologue in a passable impression of an old man.
"Well, I haven't seen this lad since yesterday, already a few gray hairs I see. Must be getting high on them dragon fumes. Not healthy, no."
Charlie laughed out loud. There was nothing like the way the twins could put on a spectacle. "So what happened to you?"
"Dragon pox," George replied nonchalantly.
"Mmm...I'm willing to bet it was some toxic crap you and that idiot brother of yours brewed up. The earlier version of what I saw downstairs?"
George looked guilty; he'd never been a good liar. "I'm fine! We read up on all the ingredients we put in there and their combinations-I'm not gonna die. I just...feel like I'm going to."
"Where'd you get the supplies?"
"We've just been buying with what we have saved up. We're only doing cheap tricks because we can only afford cheap ingredients, anyway. I'm serious Charlie, I'm not gonna die. I'm fine."
"Well you don't look fine. At all." Charlie looked him in the eyes. "And I guess I believe you, since you obviously improved it enough that none of your friends down there are in your position."
"What's happening?!"
"They went rainbow."
George cackled aloud. "I bet Ange loves that."
"She certainly said her piece. Why so concerned?" He gave George a knowing smirk, to which George rolled his eyes.
"So she doesn't die. Get off your high horse."
"This high horse is about to get you better, so I would think about revising that."
George grinned. "Your Majesty." He bowed to Charlie, who chuckled and turned to go.
"I'll be back." A Healer friend owed him a favor, anyway.
.o.
This time, he caught it when he was needed most.
The only sounds that filled the Great Hall were sobs. Hogwarts was in ruins, and the mourning had already begun.
Charlie looked at his family. So close, so exhausted, so loving, and so sad.
Fred was at the center of their huddle.
And Percy was lying at his side, his entire body wracking with sobs. George had yelled, and his hand gripped Fred's, and tears fell silently now, but Percy was literally trembling with anguish. Bill had his face in his hands, and Ron stood next to their parents, silently weeping, as Dad and Mum held each other.
Charlie walked forward and knelt beside Percy. He wanted to comfort him, but he couldn't help reaching over to grab Fred's other hand as his own tears fell.
Gripping Fred, he slowly began to rub Percy's back, hoping it would calm him down. Instead, Percy scrambled to a crawling position and dashed away from his hand, curling himself into a ball and crying again.
He followed Percy slowly, not knowing what to say. "I...we're all family here. You're not alone. You're not the only one mourning."
Percy shook his head rapidly back and forth, trying to say things in short spurts that only turned to sobs. Charlie reached out another hand and Percy scooted away again.
"Let me be there."
Percy's voice was clear only for a moment. "No."
"Let me." Percy shook his head again. "Let me." He pushed Charlie's hand away.
Charlie moved fast, not giving any time for Percy to react when Charlie wrapped his arms full around him as they sat together, and Percy sobbed into him as Charlie cried silently, holding tighter.
.o.
Charlie had another great catch a year from that day.
"I have news. But it's strictly under lock and key, understand?" Charlie looked up. Bill was looking up from his drink with a blazing look, clearly with the words tumbling out of him. They had been here for a quarter hour making small talk; at least they were finally in the thick of things.
And Charlie was looking forward to it because he knew the whole story without Bill even having to speak. A lot can be said about a man who orders firewhiskey at three in the afternoon, especially if that man can be read like a book by his brother of many, many years. Bill and Fleur had a fight; had ascended to the world of normal couples. It was hard during the war, but since it had ended they'd been nothing but sunshine and rainbows. It was nauseating.
"Fleur's pregnant."
It was the picture-perfect moment. Charlie did a spit-take, his butterbeer flying across the table between them before Bill vanished it.
"What? I thought you guys had a fight. Nothing mortal about this news." Bill looked at him curiously, then shook his head.
"We're not perfect, I've told you that."
"Whatever."
"I'll prove it. We did fight today. I don't want to have a kid." Charlie looked at him, knowing a shocked expression had overcome his features.
"Bill, you love kids."
"Children of friends are always happy to see you, always eager to please, and once they start to cry you give them back. And you six were different. I was stuck with you."
"This is your child, Bill. You're stuck with that too. No buts."
"But we hadn't even talked about it yet! She didn't tell me that the spell might be affected by her veela magic and let me stop using the condoms anyway."
"Well who's fault—"
"—you and I both know—"
"—nevermind! Nevermind." Charlie made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.
Bill quieted. "I'm not ready, Charlie. I know I'm not. And to pretend that I am is stupid. Because I'm not."
Charlie sat back in his chair, thinking, and then lean forward on his elbows. "Bill, close your eyes." Bill peered skeptically at him. "Just do it, I promise it's worth it." His older brother relented, his eyes falling closed. "I want you to take a deep breath and imagine this." Charlie thought fondly of Tonks momentarily. It was she who could always get Charlie to listen this way. Listen, calm down, and remember there are people to help you. "You're in Mungo's. A Healer hands you the most beautiful baby girl you've ever seen."
"How d'you know it's a girl?"
"Fleur is too hormonal. The baby starts to cry and you don't mind because you love her as much as you love me, as any of us, as Fleur, who has stopped screaming for the first time in hours. You pull her closer and rock her and she softens. It's really quiet. It's really special. And when you get home, you decide you want to have another, because you can't get the image of a summer at your house ten years from now, swimming with your brigade of children. I swear to Merlin you're going to end up like Dad." Bill laughed. "Open your eyes."
Bill looked at him, dumbfounded. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me feel like a sane person. Make me want to have seven children. Make me want to go home and kiss Fleur and her stomach and ravish her again."
Charlie smiled. "I know a few people who always knew exactly what to do. They taught me well."
Bill shook his head and chuckled. "You taught me and you taught them, too. You're brilliant."
Charlie didn't know what to say to that.
.o.
There are more important things than Golden Snitches.