In My Father's Footsteps, I Follow by Luvscharlie
"If you can give your son or daughter only one gift, let it be enthusiasm."—Bruce Barton
The Floo Call interrupted breakfast. That didn't make Mum happy at all.
"Another exploding toilet," I heard Dad say. He pulled his head from the fireplace and turned to me. "Charlie, would you like to go with me today?" I had my jacket on faster than Dad could say Hippogriff.
Mum started to protest, but Dad held up his hand. I loved it when he did that. It meant I was going to get to go, even if Mum raised a fuss. "Don't worry, dear, I'll bring him back in one piece."
"He is only eight." Mum had some prejudice against eight-year-olds. I was sure of it. "You had best return my baby in tip-top shape, Arthur Weasley." That was Mum's stern voice. I'd heard that many times before… but it was usually directed my way. It was nice on days when it wasn't.
Dad and I Flooed to his office first. I followed him down the Ministry corridor, running to keep up. My dad has long legs. Mum says one day I probably will, too.
When we got to the suspect locale (Dad called it that), Dad tried a Containment Charm, but the toilet belched sludge all over us. It was seriously cool. My dad worked his magic on it though.
We started for home covered in stinky sludge.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Charlie?"
"Do you think I'll have a job as cool as yours one day?"
Dad turned to me with what Mumma calls 'that twinkle' in his eye, "Whatever you do, Charlie Boy, don't you settle. You do what makes you happy."
~*~
The day I stepped on that train for Romania, Dad patted me on the back, that same twinkle in his eye. "I'll make you proud," I said.
He hugged me close and whispered, "You already have."
Fin.
A/N: Originally written for the cw_ldws (Charlie Weasley Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition) on Live Journal where the prompt was "If you can give your son or daughter only one gift, let it be enthusiasm."—Bruce Barton. This one made it through to the next round.
