Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter *shuffles away to corner, sniffing*

Author's Note: This story is set during Ron's 3rd year of Hogwarts. Bill is 22 and Charlie is 20. Percy and the younger siblings are all still at school.

I really enjoyed writing this and would've made it a bit longer but I had a word limit to consider. I really really hope you like it! Please drop a review once you're finished! They help spur me on. Alright, love ya'll. Peace out, peeps! :)

Written for the Grammar School Challenge for the IWSC

I'm from Mahoutokoro, Year 2.

Word count - 990 (actually the limit)

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"Where's Charlie Weasley?" Bill Weasley was at the hospital front desk, looking at the young witch behind it.

"And you are?" she asked kindly.

"Bill Weasley, Charlie's brother. I got a letter saying he was here." Bill replied hurriedly.

"Of course, follow me," she said, giving Bill a sympathetic smile.

"He's right through there," she remarked, after leading him down a short corridor, pointing at a closed door. Bill nodded his thanks and went in. His heart plummeted. There was Charlie. His little brother. His best friend.

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"Arthur!" Molly Weasley shrieked, holding a letter in her shaking hands.

"Molly, what's wrong?" Arthur Weasley bolted downstairs into the kitchen, for he had heard the desperation in his wife's voice.

"It's Charlie," Molly gasped.

"What about him?" Arthur asked worriedly, pulling on his cloak for work. Charlie Weasley, their second oldest son was a dragon handler in Romania.

"He - he got hurt by a dragon," said Molly, her voice quivering. "He's got third degree burns all over, and he's unconscious." Tears started pricking behind her eyes, as she handed the letter to her husband. Arthur took it and read it quickly.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but Charlie was seriously hurt yesterday afternoon. We had just finished feeding some young dragons, but two of them had gotten angry with each other and Charlie was injured as he was leaving the enclosure. He has third degree burns everywhere and deep cuts from the dragon's tail, and he's unconscious from the loss of blood. I think you should come to the retreat immediately. Again, I'm so very sorry. I'll see you while you're there."

- Raymond, a good friend of Charlie's.

Arthur's hands were shaking like Molly's.

"I'll tell the office I can't make it," he muttered. Arthur left immediately. Once he had returned, he and Molly left, disapparating from the Burrow and to the Romanian hospital.

A little while later, when Arthur and Molly entered the hospital room of their son, the first thing they noticed, was that their eldest son, Bill, was already there. He was dozing in a chair next to the bed, his hand tightly grasped by Charlie's. His parents' eyes turned to him.

Charlie was sleeping, although it seemed that the pain followed him even there, for his face was etched with a look of suffering. His skin was bright red and completely raw. Even his handsome face had burns all over it, and as Charlie's chest rose up and down slowly, Molly was forced to wonder why he insisted on remaining at the retreat, where he was hurt an infinite number of times. Molly and Arthur approached their sons. Molly sat down next to Charlie in the remaining chair, while Arthur gently shook Bill.

"Bill? Bill, wake up," Arthur said softly. Bill started and stared at his father for a moment, then engulfed him in a large hug.

"Dad, Mum, I'm so glad you're here," he said thickly, releasing his father and walking over to his mother.

"Mum," Bill said, and Molly stood to hug her eldest tightly.

"Bill, what - what happened? What's going to happen to Charlie?" Molly asked hesitantly.

"They - uh - they're not sure yet," Bill replied despondently. "They've been keeping him on lots of pain potions and putting cream on his burns every few hours." He shook his head. "But it's not so much the burns that are the problem. Those can be healed over time. It's these." He moved closer to Charlie, pulled the blanket down slightly and pulled his brother's white hospital shirt up, revealing his chest and abdomen. Molly and Arthur gasped, for their son's entire front was covered in long bandages.

"Charlie lost a lot of blood from those," Bill began softly, staring at his brother's bandaged wounds. "Raymond came by a few hours ago and told me what happened. Apparently, when Charlie was leaving the enclosure of some young dragons, one got angry at another, and they started fighting. One of the dragons got Charlie with its fire, and the other dragon caught him with its tail and threw him a few feet. Good thing Raymond and a few others were just ahead of Charlie and were able to rush in and drag him out. Otherwise . . . " Bill trailed off, covering his brother with the blankets again.

"Otherwise, he might not be here anymore," Arthur finished quietly, and Molly dissolved into tears. A few of Molly's tears fell onto her son's charred hand, and he let out a soft gasp at the stinging sensation. This made his parents' hearts clench.

But it seemed that the pain had awoken Charlie from his unconscious state, for he moaned weakly.

"Charlie?" said Molly. "Oh, Charlie, dear, I'm here. Your father and I are here," Molly continued, bending forward and placing a soft kiss on her son's tender cheek.

Charlie's eyes flickered open, landing on his mother and father.

"Hi," he muttered, smiling slightly, but erasing it instantly because of the agony it caused.

"Hey, son," Arthur said smiling, a few tears sliding down his own cheeks at the sight of his broken son.

"Dad," Charlie remarked.

"Hey, brother," Bill said thickly, and Charlie's eyes turned to him.

"Bill," Charlie said, his eyes lighting up immediately, but his voice still soft. "What happened?"

"You were caught in the crossfire of some dragons. You - you're hurt really badly."

"Well, nothing that won't heal, right?" Charlie said, forcing a small grin. That was Charlie, always cheerful. Bill nodded, chuckling in spite of the situation.

"Yeah. Yeah, you'll be fine."

"How long have you been here?" Charlie remarked, noticing Bill's wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and tired eyes.

"Since an hour after it happened," Bill replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed and gently covering Charlie's hand with his own. Charlie grimaced but didn't pull away.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes flickering shut.

"Anything for you, brother."