AN: Yes, Charlie's back. I couldn't just leave him in a cave in Mexico, now could I? Based on characters created by J K Rowling. I haven't written anything in a long time, so forgive the lousy writing. I'm hoping to get my mojo back.-Rita
Magic yourself out of this one, Charlie Weasley.
The words repeated in his head over and over. Where was he? Who was he, for that matter?
Slowly, he reached his hand out and felt his head. It was bandaged. It felt odd. He didn't recognize the material. Hell, he didn't even recognize his head. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to be swelled shut.
He tried to remember something; anything, but all he remembered was a bright light and then nothingness.
Maybe I'm dead, he thought. That would explain the bright light. But his head hurt too much for him to be dead. And he smelled something; not Sulphur nor roses, but rather an antiseptic odour. He couldn't remember the smell but it seemed familiar. And how in the hell did he know what Sulphur or roses smelt like?
"Charlie?" He heard a voice close to his face. He tried to reach out and touch it, but thinking it was a hallucination, he turned his head away.
"He's awake!" another voice chimed in.
"Where am I?" he choked.
"St. Mungo's, of course," a female voice said.
"Of course. What the hell is that?"
"St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Oh, Charlie." There was a sobbing sound. It was the female. She sounded old; not really old, just older, not like a kid. Maybe it was someone close to him.
"Mum?" he asked, guessing.
There was that sobbing noise again.
"I knew it! I knew he'd remember!"
"What do you remember, son?" It was a male voice this time. His dad, maybe?
He sighed. The light; the bright light that sent him flying back into a rock wall. There was someone with him. Who? Damn!
"Why can't I see?" he demanded. "What happened to me?"
"You should be able to see perfectly well within the next couple of hours," a clearly authoritarian voice said. "We had to repair the damage to your retinas. You remember who you are?"
No, he didn't remember who he was. The name Charlie rang a bell only because of the sentence that had been ringing in his head forever: Magic yourself out of this one, Charlie Weasley.
"Sure, Charlie Weasely." Why he lied about that, he had no idea, but decided he'd figure it out later. Right now he wanted answers and he wanted to get out of where-ever-the-hell he was. He needed to find the others.
There was the collective sobbing and laughing at the same time.
"How did I get here?" he asked.
"George and Bill, of course," his "dad" said. "They flew all the way to Mexico and found you. It took them forever, but they never gave up."
"Okay. George? George who is my…"
"Your brother. You do remember him, don't you?"
Of course he didn't remember George. He didn't know any of them. "Of course I remember George. Silly."
He wished he could see! If he could put a face with the voices, he may be able to remember them. He blinked his eyes a couple of time and tried to open them. It was beginning to work. The images were foggy and out of focus, but he kept blinking until the room came in focus.
"Well, that's better," he said. He looked at the crowd of people standing around him. The woman, his mum, probably and the older man. There were three younger men and a woman.
Christ! A room full of gingers. He saw his own reflection. Aw, crap!
"George?"
A man stepped up closer to him.
"Yes, Charlie?"
"You rescued me in Mexico?"
"That's right, Charlie."
"What the hell was I doing in Mexico?"
His mum began sobbing again.
"You were in the mountains looking for a new breed of dragon."
That was certainly not what he expected to hear. Dragon?
Someone was looking for dinosaur fossils. He was there to help them. Mike! Who was Mike? His friend! He and Mike were there with the others! Did they get out alive?
"Did the others get out?"
George looked up at one of the other red-headed men who shrugged his shoulders. The man, another brother, Charlie surmised, had a huge, ugly gaping scar on his face. For some reason, the scar didn't frighten or repulse Charlie; it added something to his character of the man.
I know him! His name is Bill! He is my brother and he is married to the hottest chick in the world.
He was remembering! Yes, there was Molly and Arthur, his parents—Arthur sure was dressed strangely. He recognized his baby brother, Ron, and his sister, Ginny. Where was Fred and that other one, Percy? Oh, right, Fred died in an accident.
No. Fred died in the war.
"Am I a wizard?" he asked, stupidly. Everyone in the room began to laugh, cry, and talk at the same time. Charlie had finally come home.
"It's all starting to come back now. They're still there! The others. I have to go back," he said desperately. He pulled himself to a sitting position and moaned loudly at the incredible pain in his head and back.
"Take care, Charlie, you're not ready to get up yet. You've had a terrible injury."
"But I have to go back. I've got to save them. I know where they are!" Crying out in pain, Charlie fell back into his pillow, passed out from the pain.
To be continued…