A Charlie Weasley story.

Disclaimer: I sincerely hope that one day JKR sees my stories and decides they are so fantastic that she makes them cannon. Though I do not foresee this day ever coming.

I actually thought of this story as I was thinking about what I would write here if I wrote a different story. Anyway, usually I use the most powerful emotions I can find in myself to write with, but recently I have not been because I become quite nervous that if I do that the wrong person will read this and take things wrong and it will all be very wrong. So anyway, I've been working very hard to remember old powerful emotions I have felt to use those to write with. (Does this all make sense.) It has been sort of dumb, since I have noticed myself becoming a lot sadder since I've decided this would be a good idea, but I need them. I am terrified to find out that I am like SE Hinton who admits she will never be able to write as passionately as when she was a teenager Every emotion is strengthened at that age and there is no way to re-channel those old emotions once grown up.

No Amount of Time

CossetteLune

A recognisable sob rang through Molly Weasley's ears. It was one of the sobs that sent chills down her back and immediately put her into a frenzy. Nothing hurt her more than a child of hers crying. She rushed down the long garden patch that she was about to start degnoming and found Charlie Weasley, sitting on an old stump in the middle of a cluster of trees. It used to be a favourite hiding stop of his as a child when they played hide-and-seek, now as a 30 year old man, he still could be found there from time to time. More often than not, with the young Teddy Tonks, telling the young boy stories of his mother.

"Charlie?" Molly's soft voice reached the man and he froze, not wanting to wipe his tears away in front of her.

He stammered a little, "I, I thought you were out all afternoon."

"Ah, yes. I was supposed to be out for tea with an old friend, but some things came up and I thought I would spend the time degnoming the garden, you know how bad it can get."

"Hm, yes," he sort of grunted in reply. Charlie sniffed and Molly walked around the old tree stump to face him. She could see the tears that had just recently fallen down his dark cheek and frowned. Reaching a hand out to his cheek and placing a kiss on his forehead she made it clear that she was not about to leave until he felt better.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Now that she had already seen him, he quickly wiped his eyes and sniffed again. "It's nothing. Just wanted to come somewhere to... think."

"Think? Think about what, Charlie?"

"To... speculate, ponder, reminisce."

Molly's frown deepened. "I am getting a feeling that the latter was all you were really doing." Charlie did not reply and they both stayed still for several minutes. Molly knew that there was only one thing that ever got Charlie really down and it upset her terribly to know that these same thoughts were still plaguing his mind. Five years had past since he had last seen her face. Ten years had passed since they broke up. "I wish you would stop thinking about her," she sighed eventually. "Let go, time heals everything but you have to give it a chance."

"That's a lie," Charlie snapped, bitterly. Molly only blinked and let her son continue. "Time does not heal everything. Time makes you forget, gives you a chance to find new things and think about those and not the old ones."

"That's not entirely true either, I think," Molly said slowly. "Though, part of it does make sense. What is wrong with new memories though? Why hold on to the old ones?"

"I don't need new ones," he replied plainly.

Repositioning herself so she would be on her knees facing him, Molly bit her lip. "Why are you holding on to so many things that hurt. Please let go, forget about her, she would not want you to dwell on this for so long."

A dark laugh erupted from Charlie's lips, "How? How do I forget someone that I love?"

"She moved on, you should too."

Another short, bitter, chuckle came from the man, "She made some bad decisions. She tried to move on, now she is dead. What good came from that?"

Nearly whispering, afraid to set him off, Molly replied, "She was happy, Charlie."

"I suppose she was," gazing into the distance, Charlie's eyes looked as though they were ready to drop tears down his face again.

"You could be."

"I can't be," he replied before the last word was completely out of Molly's mouth. "I can't, I am reminded of her every day of my life. Time only heals people's wounds because they think about other things, how do I think about other things when I spend half my time with that bloody son of hers? He looks exactly like her, he acts like her, he always asks for stories about her. Please, tell me mother, how do I just move on?"

She gulped loudly. "Charlie..." Words were failing her, it had been so long since Tonks had been around. "Why do you do this to yourself? You don't have to spend all your time with Teddy, he loves you, but he has lots of friends and you need time to yourself."

"I have to!"

"Why?" Molly pleaded with her eldest son.

"He's Nymph's son, I can't just leave him. I promised to love and care for her, forever. That still counts now and he is all that is left of her. I have to."

"You don't have to," insisting, Molly needed something more from him. Whenever this topic came up she could tell there was something more that he wasn't telling.

Charlie repeated, "I have to."

"A few days on your own, that is all I am saying you need."

"I don't want that."

"Why?" Her voice was growing more desperate, but Charlie did not even notice. He was too absorbed in his own feelings.

"I don't..." Catching his tongue, he stoppd himself from going any further.

"You don't what, Charlie?"

There was a long pause. Charlie closed his eyes and took deep breaths, in and out, eventually he licked his lips and let the words that he refused to say out loud run from his lips, "I don't want to let go of her."

"But it is hurting you, so much, all the time."

"Mum," he finally made eye contact with her, "If Dad died, would you want to let go of him?"

"I... Of course not, but that is different-"

"How? How is that different?"

"Charlie," she was becoming flustered. "We have seven children together, we have been together for longer than I can remember, I love him."

"Yes, I love her. We had been together for as long as I could remember. I had fancied her since I was eleven years old. I remember the train ride to Hogwarts, first year, I met her and suddenly understood what older kids were talking about when they said they fancied someone. Two years later, only thirteen, I knew I loved her. Two years after that I finally got the courage to ask her out. From them on, I don't remember a moment without her." The words were pouring out so quickly, at last he paused, took a breath and muttered the last sentence so quietly that Molly had almost missed it. "Until I ruined everything."

Molly's voice grew very stern and serious, "You did not ruin everything."

"I did." He replied simply. "I moved away, I left her. She ended up with him, and died."

Shaking her head, Molly made her voice as clear as possible. "That has nothing to do with you."

"I never would have let her died. She shouldn't have been there. We all knew Bellatrix was after her, and we all knew Bellatrix was stronger than her. She had just been recovering from having Teddy, why was she there? I should have saved her."

"Charlie."

"I love her, I have never stopped loving her. No amount of time will heal these wounds, the best I can do is care for Teddy and never let him get hurt. I don't want to move on, I don't want another girlfriend or relationship, I want my Nymph back."

"But, that can't happen."

"Exactly. I can't have her back, but I do have her son in my life. I can take care of him and though it sometimes feels like there are daggers repeatedly stabbing me in the heart, he needs a good life. He is so much like her and he reminds me of how fantastic she was. I can tell him about her, I can ensure he knows how heroic and funny and charismatic and friendly and caring his mother was. She deserves that. And one day, well, eventually I'll die and then it can all stop hurting."

There were no words that Molly could find. He seemed so intent on what he was saying and she knew nothing she could say could help, eventually she instead offered him his favourite meal and brought him inside the burrow. Over lunch he told her some of his most nostalgic memories about Tonks and it broke her heart hearing him tell them as much as it broke his remembering the love he lost.

Please, please, pretty pretty please tell me what you thought of it, please. I don't think anyone realised how valuable reviews really are!

xx

CL