Written for the QLFC Round 2, Chaser 1, Kenmare Kestrels
Task: Write about a Light Character Protecting themselves (Chaser 1).
Additional Prompts:(character) Charlie Weasley, (setting) The Forbidden Forest, (dialogue) "Aww, does somebody need a hug?"
Word Count: 1398
Or, yet another way to make truth or dare interesting… Thanks to ValkyrieAce for the beta!
"Aww, does somebody need a hug?" To Charlie's fury, Fred's amusement shone in his voice as much as on his face.
"Not from a git like yourself! That's a nasty dare, and you know it!" Much to his consternation, Charlie felt his voice shake. "Just be glad Perce isn't here!"
"Perfect Prat Percy?" George gave Charlie a friendly punch. "Nahh. So, you doing it or not?"
It was a beautiful spring day, the type of Scottish morning where the chill was fresh and not cutting, and where the sun made the dew on the Quidditch pitch sparkle as if alive. Easter holidays had just begun, and Arthur and Molly had arranged to pick up their sons at the castle before lunch. A morning game of pick-me-up Quidditch had degenerated into a silly game of Truth or Dare. Charlie had tried a cockroach cluster, admitted his crush on Felix Rosier, and even snuck into Filch's office to leave flowers...and then, craving a thrill, asked his brothers to "Merlin, give me something hard!"
But sneaking into the Forbidden Forest wasn't what he'd had in mind.
Charlie is running, bare feet crushing the wet grass. He hopes it's wet with rain and not blood. Blood staining his beloved Quidditch pitch, the place he'd laughed and cried and sweated and become the man he was…
"PROTEGO!" He screams as jets of lights fly towards him, desperate to stay alive. He hears cries in the distance.
His brothers. Ginny. Mum and dad. Tonks… Harry… Fleur…
He has to find his family. They are meant to fight together…
"Mum's going to kill me!" They were just inside the forest, smoke from Hagrid's chimney visible above the trees.
"Not if Good Boy Bill gets to you first!" George retorted, just as his brother replied:
"Mum will never know."
"Besides," George added, "We know you've been in the forest before, Charlie."
It was true. But that had been with Hagrid, and Charlie always felt like much more of a Gryffindor around the half-giant.
All three were wearing identical fur caps, Muggle pajamas and their latest Weasley jumpers. Naturally, Fred's sweater sported a white "G" against the crimson yarn, and George's an "F". But it didn't confuse Charlie - not even Molly could tell Fred and George apart the way Charlie could. And of that he was proud, even more so than off his top marks and his shiny Captain badge.
Fred pulled off his jumper, shivering as he did so, and Charlie let him tie it around his eyes. His sweater was more orange than red, put his pajamas were a dark maroon - and now, with the makeshift sweater blindfold, he probably looked like some sort of fanatic Gryffindor demon.
"One hundred steps." As Fred tied off the jumper's sleeves behind Charlie's ears, George gave him a small shove forward. "Go on, Charlie boy!"
And Charlie walked.
He hears a scream from the trees, and runs towards the clearing. The screaming continues past it. He's evaded his killers, for now anyway.
There's smoke, but Charlie doesn't think Hagrid is cooking.
Another scream. Charlie had thought it was a woman, but he hears the crack and realizes it is a boy on the edge of manhood. He draws his wand and runs, branches slashing at him, blinded by the dark. Away from one danger into another, desperate to save the youth…
In the dark, red is everywhere - sparks from spells, splashed on the trees, in his eyes.
A low, menacing laugh. And the boy's scream is muffled.
"Ninety one."
Charlie knew he wasn't in any real danger, but murmuring the count calmed him nevertheless. He waved his arms in front of him before each one, have already been bruised by two trees.
Fred and George, he decided, were bloody gits. Bloody gits that he had half a mind to throw a few stinging hexes at once he finished their bloody dare.
All in the name of self-defense, of course.
And then, behind him, a branch cracked.
He finds the boy and the man. The boy looks around twelve, not old enough for this fight. His robes are tattered and his Ravenclaw scarf tied like a noose around his neck. He's under a Body Bind, but his eyes are moving, full of fear and tears they cannot shed.
The man - Dolohov - shouts "CRUCIO!" just as Charlie leaps in front of his wand. And then, Charlie is screaming, in pain…
Something huge was behind him. The branch cracked again, and then he felt a shower of twigs landing in his hair.
And then something whinnied. Centaurs!
"Um...hi?" How did one speak to a Centaur? Professor Kettleburn had talked about them - they were intelligent, proud creatures, who tended to look upon humans as pesky but not actively malicious. "I'm Charlie. I'm - sorry. I'll just - take a few more steps - then be going? Unless I should leave now?"
No response. Charlie took another step, and then three more. "Is this...okay?"
Still no response. Five more steps. He only had one left. That last step was almost a lunge, and the instant his foot hit the ground he reached to yank Fred's sweater away from his eyes…
...and then his footing gave way, and suddenly he wasn't standing on solid ground, but lying on a bed of rope, and as he felt himself yanked into the air, he screamed.
"Leave him…"
Charlie's words come out in hoarse gasps. Dolohov laughs, that cold, cold, laugh. "The boy is nothing. But you...Weasley…"
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
Dolohov dodges, but it's enough. He has enough time to free the boy.
Charlie kicked furiously, but the ropes only tightened. He couldn't reach his wand pocket, but he managed to thrust his boot upward towards his left hand, giving his fingers just enough time to close around his silver knife….
Maybe the creature who had done this to him didn't want to hurt him. But Charlie had no desire to find out blindfolded and hanging from a tree.
It's like dancing, what he and Dolohov are doing. Leaping around trees, the sparks from their wands like silky cloth flying through the air. His shield charm minimizes Dolohov's next Cruciatus, but he is still shouting to the silent trees…
And then Dolohov kicks him, dirt flying everywhere. "Aww. Does somebody need a hug?"
A couple slashes of the knife sent both Charlie and the knife flying, thankfully in opposite directions. The knife lodged in a tree, and Charlie plummeted. He pulled his wand out as he fell, casting five shield charms around him in quick succession. He yanked off his blindfold as he hit the ground, ready to have to defend himself further…
...Only, he hadn't landed on the ground. And there was no fearsome Forest Monster attacking him. Only his younger brothers, in a pile beneath him.
"Is itty bitty Weasley scr-"
Charlie jumps up and kicks Dolohov, then sends a stunner his way. It grazes his cheek, not enough to do any damage. Dolohov sends a stunner back. Charlie raises his wand to disarm…
"Wh… how… MERLIN'S BLOODY HELL!" Furious, Charlie aimed kicks at both pairs of shins, and was rewarded with yelps of pain. "You think this is some funny prank! People have died in the forest. And you scared me! Imagine if you'd had to go tell Gin I died in the forest. Huh? How would you -"
But he was interrupted by Hagrid's booming voice. "Charlie! Is tha' you?"
Their disarming charms hit both at the same time, and instantly both scramble to retrieve their fallen wands. But then Charlie remembers.
It's a stroke of luck, or maybe it's magic. But the knife has been embedded in the tree for all those years. He flings it, and it lands in the Death Eater's shin, giving Charlie just the time he needs to escape.
He's done it. He has fought, defended himself, survived. He hears a woman scream, and prays it isn't his Mum, running into that danger...
"Wha' happened to yeh? Yer all three covered in dirt!"
All three boys stood up, Charlie still panting and the twins still wincing. None of them spoke a word. And as they walked to the clearing, they saw the last person they wanted to see. The one person they couldn't defend themselves from. None of them would survive, that was certain.
Molly Weasley did not look pleased.