Charlie exhaled slowly, trying to get his head on straight. This couldn't be happening; this wasn't happening. Fred...of all his brothers, Charlie would have never expected it to be Fred. Ron, most likely, Percy, yes - Bill maybe - even George had a better shot - but Fred? Charlie had always felt that Fred was the lucky Weasley - never injured, so much humor, everyone loved him - brilliant businessman - and he was the one to go. All of his brothers had all been injured - Ron more times than he could count, Bill was missing half his face, Percy had suffered in his own way, even George had lost an ear, but nothing like that had happened to Fred, so for him to go like this...it was wrong.
Fred was the charismatic Weasley, the one with ideas, the one with a future - the one without a plan. He deserved to live, to enjoy his life, to at least figure out where it was going. Charlie felt, though no one knew this, that it should have been him. He had lived his life; he had gotten to work with dragons. Fred was only twenty one years old... his life was just beginning, Charlie had been living his life for awhile now, since he was nearly twenty seven. It wasn't fair; he would have gladly taken his place. He should have taken his place. He really had nothing special to live for. He wasn't married like Bill, searching for himself like Percy, making his way in the world like George would be and Fred had been, nor was he in love like Ron. No, he was simply there. Living his quiet existence and fighting for the right thing. He should have been hit. It should have been him. He wished it was.
He wished he had a better mode of existence to justify his being alive and Fred being gone, but he didn't. No wife, no girlfriend...just a field full of sun and scales on the rocky shores of Romania. Fred had a business. Fred had a future. Fred had a dream. Hell, Fred even had someone who loved him. That striking and tall black girl in the back row, sitting with a pale, red haired Irish girl, had looked so stricken at the funeral that Charlie was sure it was her. He could just sense it. He had motioned to George, who had remained quite composed during the service, and mouthed, "Which one?"
"Angelina, the one on the outside. The red head is Katie." George gazed at them both for a moment, but said nothing else.
Days later Charlie learned from George, as they were sharing a room together at the Burrow, Molly wanted to make sure George was supervised at all times, as she feared for his sanity after losing Fred, that Fred had in fact loved Angelina. So much that he was planning to marry her, not right away, but soon enough. He had been saving for a ring. Charlie wasn't shocked, it seemed like the Weasley tradition to marry young and to love hard - Percy had, Fred did, Bill was now, Dad still was - and Ron was learning how to. Charlie hadn't, although it wasn't for lack of trying. Nothing had ever really worked out...another reason to switch places.
George sighed then and looked across the somewhat dark and dusty room at Charlie, "Bet you're glad to have Romania to go back to...get away from all this."
Charlie sat there, unsure of how to answer, "I didn't pick my career to escape my family, George."
"I know you didn't. But now you can escape - the pain, not us. Must be a relief."
Charlie shrugged, "I don't think so. I may not be going back. I think I might need the pain."
"You're mad you know that." George said his eyes dead in his face, "this is hell Charlie - why do you want to be surrounded by this if you don't have to - why see it when you can go away?"
"Fred deserves it."
George turned his head away, wiping his hand across his eyes slowly and nodded, "Yeah, he does...so you're staying then?"
"I think I am, yeah." Charlie said, realizing he had just made a very important decision quite casually.
"What are you going to do then?"
He shrugged, "Go wherever I'm needed I guess. A lot of repair work needs to happen, that I know. How about you?"
"Keep the shop open. I owe that to Fred, and people are still going to need laughter in their lives...or they will, again. They always do."
Charlie nodded, "Good for you, George."
Some time later, after the two had lain in silence for awhile - and shared half a bottle of Firewhiskey that George had kept beneath his bed - toasting Fred about ten times over, George spoke up in the dark.
"You think things will get better, Charlie?"
He sighed then, not really knowing how to to answer that one, without sounding a bit pompous or over done or overly confident so he said, "I hope so, George. I really, really do."
George took the Firewhiskey bottle back out and laughed, bitterly. It was a heartbreaking sound, "Yeah, me too, but right now I wouldn't much count on it. Fred was the positive one, really. He was like you in that respect, you know."
"What?"
"Oh yeah, didn't you know? Fred idolized you, Charlie. Always doing your own thing, not giving a damn about being on your own, doing what you loved rather than what was expected of you - and you were never Head Boy. Put you a tad past Bill in admiration - and whenever we saw you, you were positive. Upbeat, assured, relaxed - like Fred."
Charlie felt fresh tears sting his eyes and his throat seemed to close a bit, "I never...Fred never, I mean -"
George just smiled a little and said quietly, "Surprise. Be thankful that at least it's not Ron he idolized...ickle ronnikins - the baby war hero..." But then he sobered up a bit to proclaim, "We were too young for this, Charlie."
"I know. You know if I could take his place I would."
George nodded, "In a heartbeat, but its no use discussing that is it?"
Charlie, shook his head slowly, "No, I suppose not."
"At least we're all together. Fred would have wanted that..." George said, his voice sounding thick, and slightly muffled, his face must have been buried nearly into the pillow."
"That he would, George, that he would."
And then Charlie knew that while this was wrong and unfair and a million other hurtful things, obviously this was the way it was going to be from now on. They would all just have to learn to live with it. Charlie laughed then, quietly to himself, as way to relieve the tension, because really, it was what Fred would have done, and now Charlie decided, he had a reason to keep living. He had a reputation to uphold after all - as the idol of Fred Weasley.