The Choices We Make
Part I
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Nights in the mountains of Romania always held a bit of a chill, even early summer nights. Members of the Strecovin Camp unusually spent such nights in their low, wooden houses warmed by cheery fires, but two red headed figures huddled close to a campfire in one corner of the camp's open square. Both held lukewarm mugs of coffee, but rather than drink they both stared into the fire, one talking, one listening. Bill and Charlie Weasley were sharing an uncharacteristically serious moment, one which neither wanted to be a part of.
Charlie stared into the fire for a long time after Bill stopped talking. The silence, after such news, seemed almost...unholy. "Thanks," he ventured. "For coming out here. I got Mum's owl right after it happened, of course, but...it's...it's not the same."
"Yeah, I know." Bill stared pensively into his cup, then took a large gulp hoping it might clear his head a bit. Strong, fresh tea would have worked better. Or a shot of firewhisky.
Charlie filled his cup and offered to top off his brother's drink from the pot warming near the fire, but Bill shook his head. He didn't like coffee; especially coffee the way Charlie made it. Searing hot and weak as possible.
The silence, tainted by both the need to speak and the absence of anything worth saying, settled between them again. They watched the fire, silence edging toward comfortable, when a petite brunette suddenly bounced into being behind Charlie and wrapped her arms around him, then rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Hey."
Charlie broke out in the first smile Bill had seen since the previous summer and reached up with one hand to remove her arm from around his neck. "Hey. Just get off?"
"Yup." She smiled at Bill and back away from Charlie a few inches, but still held her arms possessively around him. "It's getting cold out. Why don't you boys come inside? I'll fix a little midnight snack or something."
"No thanks, dear," Charlie answered, squeezing the hand he still held. "We'll be fine."
"Well, okay." She leaned in and kissed Charlie's cheek, then dropped her arms and backed away a few steps. "Enjoy your visit," she said with a smile for Bill, then sauntered away with a cheerfulness that was at once offensive to and a refreshing break from the seriousness of the moment.
"Mariette?" Bill asked with a wicked grin.
Charlie blushed and stared at his coffee mug. "Yeah."
"Have you told Mum yet?"
"Not yet. And don't you go telling her. You know how Mum gets. She scared Joan half to death when I took her back for Christmas."
"Fred and George scared her half to death, chasing her around with that bloody quaffle." Bill grinned at the suddenly worried look on his brother's face. "But never fear, no one will anything from me." He glanced at the gold-lit houses, lined up in neat little rows across the open square. "I guess I should feel grateful you told me about it at all."
"Who else am I going to get dating advice from?"
"You do remember I'm single, right?"
"Right. You screw up, and then I know what not to do."
"Har dee har har."
Charlie topped off his coffee mug, something he did often in order to keep it to the required boiling point. Bill took another sip from his drink, more to have something to do than because he liked the over watered coffee. The silence returned.
"So what happens now?" Charlie asked, trying desperately to keep the heavy silence away.
"Well, Dumbledor's recalling the Order for starters. Mum and Dad are joining, now that they don't have kids in the house to look after. What's left of the old Order has been told, and they're all willing to help.
"What will you do?"
Bill didn't answer for a long time, choosing instead to stare into the fire. "I'll join, too."
Charlie carefully watched his brother, who refused to look up from the flames. "But you didn't come all the way to Romania just to tell me this, did you?"
"I just want you to know what's going on, so...so you can make the best decision."
"Or so you can make the best decision for me."
Bill glanced up, anger flashing in his eyes, then sighed, utterly deflated, and with a half formed argument dying on his lips.
"Sorry, Bill. That was a bit low."
"No, you're right." He sighed and unconsciously played with the coffee mug, twisting it around in his hands and staring at the ground. "I haven't exactly been the perfect older brother."
"No, you've been the typical eldest brother. That makes you imperfect by default."
Bill chuckled a bit and put the cup down. "Well, don't spare my feelings, little brother."
"You've always been so smart and yet you know next to nothing about people. Especially yourself."
"Oh, and you're suddenly Dr. Eshder? Thinking of leaving the dragons and going into psychiatry?"
"Even I'm not that crazy. And even if I was, I wouldn't get a talk show on the WWN. Wonder how many curses a week that guy gets in his post?"
Charlie drained his cup, making Bill wince just watching, and stood stretching and yawning. "I'm turning in."
"Right behind you."
Bill stared at the fire for a few more minutes before dumping the rest of his cold coffee, extinguishing the fire with a wave of his wand, and following his brother back to the cozy wooden house.
Bill woke the next morning with sun shining on his face and dragons roaring outside. He jumped, got his legs twisted in the sheets, and literally fell out of bed. He stumbled out of the linen and cast about for his wand in panicked confusion before he finally remembered where he was. Irate dragons were probably a normal wake-up call for this camp.
Laughing nervously at his own foolishness, Bill detangled himself and paced through Charlie's living room where he'd taken over the extendable couch, pulling new clothes out of his bag and tying his hair back and out of the way. He wandered over to Charlie's room, determined he wasn't there, and went instead to the kitchen.
Poking through the kitchen until he found a teakettle, he put it on to boil and leaned against the counter. The sudden jolt of fear his wake-up call had given him was wearing off, leaving him in a sleepy, befuddled state.
Clutching his cup of tea, Bill finally ventured outside. The narrow lane Charlie's house opened on to was full of slightly rumpled looking workers hurrying toward the dragon pens, where occasional roars were still heard. He followed them to the edge of the square, then stopped close to the houses, sipping his tea and watching from a safe distance.
A Welsh Green broke free of her restraints and attempted to flee, but three wizards on broomsticks blocked her way. They attempted to bring her down peacefully, but soon gave up on that and resorted to Stun Spells. She fell after five Stun Spells hit her simultaneously and the entire camp seemed to breath a sigh of relief.
Feeling a great deal safer, Bill started off across the square toward the dragon pens. Charlie met him halfway, looking more than slightly harassed but grinning from ear to ear.
"That's some wake up call you've got there."
Charlie looked over his shoulder at the stunned dragon who was being attended to by half a dozen witches and wizards. "She's just a but temperamental. They hate getting colds. Blocks their sinuses so they can't breath fire."
Bill shuddered. "No, that doesn't sound like much fun."
"Come on," Charlie said, pushing his brother toward the house. "We'll get some breakfast and I'll show you around camp."
"I saw the camp. Last time, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Well let's get some breakfast anyway."
"I won't say no to that."
Charlie led the way back to the house, scraping the mud off his boots on a convenient log outside the door. Bill tried to do the same, found it took some skill he didn't posses, and simply left his boots on the porch.
"Damn, Bill. It looks like something exploded in here."
"What," he asked, looking around. The sheets were torn half off his couch bed, his clothes were strewn across the floor, and the kitchen showed signs of his morning efforts. "It's not that bad."
"I shudder to think about what state your apartment must be in." Charlie kicked a pair of pants out of his way and moved on to the kitchen, letting the subject drop. "What do you want to eat," he asked, sweeping the empty teakettle and dirty spoon into the sink.
"What have you got to eat is the question."
Charlie gave his brother a lop-sided grin. "Toast?"
"One of us really should learn how to cook," Bill noted as he joined his brother in the kitchen.
Working together, the two managed to produce toast, eggs and sausage, and coffee, which Bill flatly refused.
"I'll just keep my tea," he said as they carried their plates to the small kitchen table.
They ate beside the small kitchen window at what served Charlie for a dinning table. Outside, the camp workers streamed by, hurriedly going about their daily tasks. Neither said much as they ate, opting instead to stare out the window and watch the passers-by. The silence was rather comforting, and Bill was enjoying the quite morning when Charlie suddenly broke the silence.
"When are you going back?" he asked.
Bill glanced at his brother, who was staring out the window.
"Not long. I need to get back."
Charlie grunted a bit and pushed away from the table. "Well, I've got to go back to work now."
"Hey, could we meet for lunch?" Bill asked, holding out a hand to stop his brother's sudden hasty departure.
"Uh, sure. Cafeteria? Around noon?"
"Yeah. That's fine."
Charlie dumped his dishes in the sink and all but ran out of the house. Bill tipped his chair back, rested his feet on the table, and eyed the sink.
"Boy must really be nervous." He sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling. "This won't be easy."
