You don't know about me
And you don't care what affair still haunts me
And you don't know what it is about me
And I don't care, I don't care if you love me
When His voice boomed so loudly it shook the walls of Hogwarts, Millicent Bulstrode cringed and shook in terror. She didn't want to die. She was so unaccountably afraid that she clung tightly to Pansy, whom she didn't even like, until they were surrounded in the safety of The Great Hall. The Dark Lord only wanted Harry Potter, and at this point, Millicent would give anything, anyone, if she could go home to her parents and survive even another day. She sighed in relief when Pansy shouted out what she was thinking.
Professor McGonagall asked those not participating to file out and get away from the castle safely. Millicent followed Professor Slughorn obediently, her head bowed, denying even to herself that she was ashamed to be leaving her classmates behind. Just as she was leaving, she glanced at the number of students staying behind and saw Sally Ann Perks, her best friend for years, staying behind with a defiant look on her face. Millicent's stomach plummeted into her feet as Pansy pushed her through the door.
They took the long walk through the secret passageway, off of a room that Millicent had never seen. The first and second years from all of the houses were in different stages of crying, and Millicent had to force herself to keep from shedding her own burgeoning tears. All she could do was picture Sally, fighting for her life, without her best mate at her side. When they slipped into the worn down pub in Hogsmeade, the stench of shame was so thick, that Millicent couldn't move forward, she could only go back.
She ignored Pansy, Blaise, and Theo shouting her name. She ignored the cries coming from the exit of the passage. She just ran and ran until at last she was back inside of the room…back and ready for battle. She readied her wand and immediately left the room. She searched desperately through the fray.
On her way back toward the Great Hall, she found a small battle going on near the Astronomy tower. Professor Sinistra was waving her wand frantically, with Flitwick at her side. Millicent wanted to keep going, to turn her back and find Sally Ann, but her newfound need to fight…to be courageous, demanded that she assist her professors. They were up against five Death Eaters, and she lifted her wand and rolled her eyes, warring with herself as she began to fight the war around her.
Curses slashed across her arms, tearing her blouse to shreds. She could feel blood dripping from her wounds, including one across her forehead, but Millicent fought on. She knew she would get to Sally eventually, and she would slash her wand over and over again to find her friend. The cause of light and dark meant little to her before the moment Sally's eyes met hers across the Great Hall. But now, well, now Millicent knew that there were things she loved, things she longed to protect, on one side and not the other.
While her friendship with Sally had caused her to turn back, the will to fight came from somewhere even deeper inside of her, and she was shocked to discover it. She fought hard for her school, for the people giving their lives to save the world from a cruel, heartless group of people. Millicent had never felt the urge to fight for anyone or anything but herself before, and she relished the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She headed down the hallway to the noise of another battle being broken hard fought.
She turned the corner where the one-eyed witch was and came face to face with Sally Anne and Cho Chang struggling mightily against a female Death Eater Millicent had never seen nor heard of. Another man was coming up to aid the villain, and Millicent handily took him out from her vantage point. The woman they were fighting turned her back at the sound of the stunner hitting the male Death Eater's chest, and that gave Sally and Cho enough time to shoot a Reducto at her and take her down in a gruesome cavalcade of blood.
Sally looked at Millicent and smiled, looking morbid with her dark brown hair and tan skin spattered with Death Eater blood. She had some bruises, and to Millicent's shock, some missing teeth, but she was intact. Millicent ran forward and did something she can't recall ever doing to anyone except her parents: she embraced Sally Ann affectionately. Millicent had never even held Theodore Nott that tightly after their awkward fumblings in an abandoned classroom and harried meetings in varied broom closets. She felt awkward, but was so happy to see Sally alive that her distrust of physical affection was forgotten.
Cho shouted at them, and Millicent and Sally ran behind the dark haired girl, following her back around the corner where the statue of the one-eyed witch stood. Cho immediately dove behind the statue, dodging a menacing, purple looking curse. Before Millicent and Sally could find shelter, four Death Eaters came, still wearing their metal masks, and blasted curses at them. An explosion of stone came cascading down on Millicent and Sally, and everything went dark.
When Millicent woke up, Cho was shouting her name, tears streaming down her face. Her voice sounded like a distant whisper among the ringing in her ear. She could feel Sally's hand near hers and reached for her, only to find her grip cold. Millicent sat up, stone and debris flying off of her tattered blouse, and began to frantically remove the stones from Sally's lifeless form. She felt Cho's hand on her shoulder, and the resigned, sad look on her face told her all she needed to know: Sally Anne Perks was dead.
Millicent sat utterly still, unmovable, until finally Cho gave up and moved on to the next fight, her wand drawn. When they were alone, Millicent drew her wand and blasted a hole in the wall next to the one-eyed witch. She levitated Sally's body into the dark cavern, and then crawled in after her. She drew her knees up to her chest and began to sob.
(((())))))))))
All this feels strange and untrue
And I won't waste a minute without you
My bones ache, my skin feels cold
And I'm getting so tired and so old
Charlie Weasley tried to remain numb, but sparks of pain, with sharpened edges cutting through his chest, kept barraging his rough façade. There was more war to fight, there were more battles to be won, and he couldn't afford to dwell on Fred. The world couldn't afford to dwell on what they had lost. He tried to swallow down the heart-wrenching image of his brother, lying lifeless but with a smile on his face, and continued on to assist in the fight. When Hagrid had carried Harry's limp body toward the gathered crowd, Charlie had a moment of pain for his brother's newest loss, and then shut his body back down, drew his wand, and readied himself for another fight.
After that, the war was over quickly, and Charlie came out with cuts and bruises that could be easily healed. He had one gash across his chest that he ignored while others with far worse wounds were treated. He sat with his family, holding his brothers and sister in turns, but eventually he needed to move before he exploded in sadness and rage. As morbid as it was, he decided to help gather the bodies into the Great Hall.
He walked along hallways, searching rubble and looking for survivors and those not so lucky. He re-lived what Fred must have gone through over and over again as he moved stones and rubble away in search of undiscovered bodies. In one alcove, he moved rubble to see a trail of blood. The trail led to another pile of stones and a blasted out hole in the wall. As he searched for the source of the blood, he could hear quiet sobbing coming from the cutout in the wall. He approached the scene carefully with his wand drawn.
A young woman was rocking herself back and forth, sobbing openly against the dead body of another young woman. Both had on school uniforms, but they looked old enough to be out of school. Charlie assumed they were seventh years who stayed and fought. The crying woman had long, blonde hair that was shining out against the torchlight of the hallway despite the bit of plaster and dust gathered in it. The dead woman's face was so plastered with blood; he couldn't even make out her features. Charlie must have gasped audibly, because the auburn haired girl jumped.
"Don't you dare take her!" She screamed, her wand pointed toward Charlie in her shaking grasp. "I'm going to take her to her parents when it's all over. She needs to go home," she cried desperately again.
"It's alright, I won't take her," Charlie said softly, placing his wand in his pocket. He knew her grief, he could feel the look on her face in such a tangible way that he thought her sadness would tear away the walls he was building to protect himself from his own anguish. "What's her name?"
"Sally Anne Perks," The woman answered with quivering lips. The pink of her lips stood out against the dust caked on her face, and Charlie licked his own lips subconsciously, only to feel a wave of nausea follow. "She…they…when we were fighting…."
"It's okay. It's okay. It's over now. Voldemort was killed. The fighting is over," Charlie said, letting his fingers graze her shoulder lightly. She flinched. "I promise."
The blonde woman looked into his eyes. She had gray-blue eyes with bits of brown in them around the edges, and Charlie lost himself for a glorious, if fleeting moment. He reached out his hand in the hope that she would stand and take his. She did, wrapping a strong grip around his fingers and pulling herself up. She was almost as tall as him, and she was larger than average. She had full breasts, broad shoulders, and broad hips to match. Charlie took the time to imagine how soft she would feel against him before the horrors of the war and what was lying next to them came flooding back to him. He was grateful for the escape. When he looked at her, he saw a second of similar feeling flash across her face. He longed to reach out and grab a hold of something beyond the terrifying aftermath of battle, but the hole in his chest wouldn't let him.
"C-Can you help levitate her? I don't trust my magic well right now," She said, looking ashamed at her feet.
"I don't either, but I can carry Sally for you," Charlie said, leaning down to lift the fragile, bloody form before his companion could protest.
They walked in silence, and the blonde woman's arm never moved away from its spot resting against Sally Anne's leg. When a gust of wind came in from a broken window, the dust blew away from the blonde strands of hair, and Charlie caught sight of streaks of bright, cherry red running through her shoulder length mane. He almost wanted to smile at the garish, out of place, and daring colour she was sporting, but he couldn't get his face to move. The woman turned and caught him staring.
"I'm not a coward," She said angrily. Charlie was puzzled. "I know you're staring because I'm the only Slytherin you've seen fighting. I know I ran, but I…I wasn't thinking. And when Sally- nevermind. Why am I explaining that to you?"
Charlie noticed her green and silver tie tucked in to her blouse for the first time. In truth, he was shocked. He had seen all the Slytherins leave himself. However, she obviously felt ashamed, and Charlie was not in the mood to judge anyone for the acts of desperation they committed during war. He knows that if he had to chance to send his siblings out with the Slytherins, he would have. Instead, he decided to deflect the tension, even as Sally weighed heavily in his arms. "What's your name, Slytherin Girl?"
She paused, almost like she was considering not telling him. Finally she looked at him, and Charlie was once again offset for a moment by her eyes. "Em. You can call me Em."
"Is that short for anything?"
"Yes."
Charlie knew that was all he was getting, but had no time to further his questioning as they approached the Great Hall. He carried Sally Anne to an empty spot on one of the long tables and set her down carefully. He pulled off his robes and draped them over her body. He deliberately avoided looking around at the rest of the room. When he looked at Em, she was doing the same, which meant looking at him.
"You're hurt," she whispered. Charlie saw that fleeting spark in her eyes again, the one he had sworn he saw earlier, and tried to hold onto it with his gaze. He craved the escape it offered. However, she turned away from him slightly and the moment was gone. "I can heal that for you."
"I'm not too bothered by it," Charlie said, looking down and trying not to shudder as her hand trailed down his chest and over his abdomen. He bit his lip.
"Why don't you follow me to the Slytherin common room? I know no one is going to be there," She said the last part with pain in her voice.
"As long as I can heal you, too," Charlie said, brushing the fringe away from her face to reveal a long cut on her forehead.
Em nodded and took his hand, leading him away from the Great Hall and to the promise of perfect escape.
(((((((((((())))))))))))))))
Tonight we'll be whoever we like
Tonight we'll leave our troubles behind
Tonight in each other we'll hide
Tonight will be alright...
Millicent fought every single practical muscle in her body. Her conscience was begging her to rush back in and wait with Sally until the next day, until the parents and families would come in to retrieve the bodies. However, he promised more. This kind, conflicted man meant that Millicent could drown in someone else for a while, and forget. She wanted so badly to forget, even if it was just for one night. She clenched her hand more tightly around his and pulled him on toward the dungeons. She debated even asking his name.
"I'm Charlie, by the way," he said, his tenor voice floating through her ears and giving her chills. She looked up at him, into his deep brown eyes, intending to acknowledge that she heard him. She didn't expect to be so drawn again, but she was, and she had to force herself to look away. He held too much promise, and she wasn't looking for a daydream.
The common room door stood open, and the entire room had a haunted feeling to it. She cast her wand toward the fire and let the flames roar in the hearth for warmth in the dank dungeons.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering slightly, and noticed how dirty she was. Before she could make excuses to shower, Charlie's hands had wrapped around her shoulders and he began to rub soothing circles through the patches of torn cotton. She took a calming breath and melted into his touch, willing herself to shut out the rest of the world.
"Charlie, I'm filthy," Millicent whispered, closing her eyes and letting her hands linger over his.
"Scourgify," he answered quietly, and the dust and rubble was sucked away from her body. She turned to him and mouthed the words 'thank you' before returning the favour.
Then, she felt the collar of her shirt slide over her shoulder and down to the exposed wound there. Charlie's whispered healing spell instantly cooled her heated flesh. His large hands swept away her fringe and he healed the cut on her forehead, swiping his thumb to catch the dripping blood. Millicent bit her lip before looking down at Charlie's chest. She pulled his torn jumper over his head and gasped at the faded burns and scars that were lying underneath the fresh marks of the current battle. She couldn't help but to reach out and run her hand over his abdomen and trace the lines of a few of the pronounced scars. She felt a rush of electricity when his body quivered under her touch. She healed the gash on his chest slowly and carefully.
It was obvious that Charlie was that fabled Weasley brother who was a dragon tamer, but Millicent didn't care. Her eyes raked over his pale skin, dotted with trademark freckles and encasing impressive muscle, and her mouth watered. It felt good to want someone so much. She had never wanted anyone as badly as she wanted Charlie in that moment, and the specter of Sally Anne was far from her mind. She nearly moaned with relief.
The relief ended when she met his eyes. His deep brown eyes echoed the fire behind her, and he looked like he was burning a hole completely through her. She couldn't help herself. She was about to get completely lost, and the stiff composure she had held herself in her whole life was about to fall to pieces with one stare…one flaming touch. He rushed to her, pulling her body close to him. She had no choice….there was no option but to give in.
(((((((((())))))
Tell me that you'll open your eyes
Tell me that you'll open your eyes
It was supposed to be a one off, that's what Charlie told himself as he followed Em to the Slytherin common room. It was just something to dull the pain. However, when those stony, blue eyes collided with his, he was filled with so much want…so much hope, that it sparked inside of him. The hope, the potential happiness brought back painful realities as well, but Charlie took the lump in his throat, he handled his clenching heart, and placed it in her hands without her even being aware.
He pulled her against him, revelling in the way her soft, supple body felt pressed into his bare chest. He kissed down the side of her face, eventually threading his fingers through her choppy hair. When his lips met hers, and his tongue slid into her mouth, she moaned and he nipped happily at her bottom lip in between thrusts of his tongue. He leaned back and unbuttoned her blouse, letting the shirt fall from her shoulders.
Her pale skin flickered in the pulsing light of the fresh fire, and Charlie's mouth watered. He wanted to drown in her, to hide his face against her welcoming skin and never leave. The urge to take her became so overwhelming, that he ripped the rest of her clothes off with alarming speed. She looked up at him with shock, wrapping her arms around her body.
Charlie pulled off his jumper, then his jeans, and finally toed off his socks. He tossed her his best, most charming grin, and when she rolled her eyes, he found her even more beautiful. Her hands fell from her body, and Charlie couldn't help himself. He had to stare.
Her bra was blue, and made of some sort of shiny material, but even it had blast holes and curse marks on it. Her matching underwear remained intact, and Charlie had to fight the urge to rip them off. Her body was round, with full breasts, tapering into a slightly smaller waist, before finishing off in wide, inviting hips. His mouth watered as he pictured settling himself between her full thighs.
He tried to avoid the bruises, both faded and fresh, and the similar curse scars on her body, but he couldn't. He walked over and decided to memorize every one of them, to map her body out and explore each inch. His lips brushed a faded bruise over her ribs.
"It's been a rough year, here at school. Even for a Slytherin," she said, blushing.
"It's over now, Em." He spoke with certainty, his own words strengthening his confidence and resolve.
She looked up, her gray eyes shining, and hope reflecting back at him so ardently that his heart clenched. He kissed her passionately, trying to say everything in physical acts, lost for any words. Her warm hands clung to him, pressing against his back and pulling him to her. He guided them over to the sofa and laid her down roughly, falling on top of her. When he felt her legs close around his waist, he couldn't stifle his moans any longer.
"I want you." She moaned, thrusting up.
"Yes," he growled.
He pulled down her bottoms and slipped two fingers inside of her wet entrance. He was caught off guard by how tight she was, but his body shook with need. He brought his thumb to her clit as he fingered her slowly, devouring the delicious moans coming from her throat. She took off her bra and he latched on to her nipple as she arched hungrily into him.
Needing to be closer, he sat them up, guiding her on top of him. She straddled his hips and gripped the back of the curving sofa, leaning in for a surprisingly gentle and reverent kiss. He let himself go, pressing his forehead to hers and breathing in her scent greedily. He wanted to prolong the escape.
He gripped his shaft and moved it along her centre, clenching with the effort not to thrust inside of her. When she began to lower herself onto him, his hips shot up, and he was fully sheathed in a split second. He clenched his eyes shut and groaned; worried he would come like a Fourth Year if he moved to fast. When he opened his eyes, her eyes were still clenched shut, but she looked like she was in pain. When he saw a tear leak out, he froze.
"Hey," he said, turning her face and imploring her to look at him. She wouldn't.
"Just give me a moment," she said, and Charlie complied. Worried he had pushed her too far and her grief was resurfacing.
When he looked down at their joined bodies as she lifted off of him slightly and began to move, he was shocked to see faint remnants of red streaking down his shaft. When he gasped and glanced back up at Em, she had her head turned away from him and her jaw tightly clenched.
"Sweet Merlin, you're a…"
"Yes, but please Charlie! I need this! I want you. Just move," She said, lifting up and seating herself on him. She was so hot and tight that he cried out, gripping her buttocks hard. When she began to moan in pleasure, he thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
"Here, love, let me," He whispered. He pulled out of her gently and guided her onto her back. He lifted her leg, and she wrapped it around his waist. When he entered her, he kept his pace as leisurely as he could, and she was soon writhing beneath him. He kissed her kneecap and down her thigh, whispering promises that he wished he could keep.
When he felt the head coil at the base of his spine, he reached down and pressed his hand over her mound, rubbing quickly and lightly. As her body clenched around him, he exploded inside of her, crying out her name and grabbing her hand.
They stayed, joined hand and body until their hearts slowed. He pulled out carefully, summoned the wash basin, and conjured a flannel. He warmed the water, washing the blood off of them both. He had never done something so intimate with anyone, and when her eyes met his again, he had to bite back the urge to whisper promises that he did intend to keep.
((((())))
And I don't know about you
And I don't care about the girl behind you
And I don't know what it is about you
It makes me want to run and jump inside you
Millicent woke to birds chirping, and momentarily forgot where she was. Birds never chirped near the windows of Slytherin, the entire place was underwater. She looked up and saw a hole in the ceiling she hadn't noticed the night before. The burn marks around the crumbling brick indicated that some spell damage must have made its way into the dungeons. A bird was perched on the edge of the hole, staring at her curiously.
Charlie smelled amazing, like a home she never knew in a place she never heard of. She leaned her head against his naked chest, trying to avoid leaving the warmth of the expanded sofa. She knew she had to go before he woke up, but she wanted just a few more moments of contentment before she took her heart and ran.
Millicent may have not had her share of romantic relationships, but she knew people. People lived to hurt others. The scars on her body and on her soul were proof of that. Hogwarts was a paradise to Millicent. Her parents were cold, lifeless people who only seemed happy on days she was leaving. Her primary school days were filled with taunts and bullying about her above average size. It took years for Millicent to feel beautiful, to know her own worth. It took years and no one but herself.
The only person in the world she ever relied on was Sally Anne, and without her, Millicent was alone. She was not about to fall into bed with some brown eyed soulful man, no matter what he promised with heated whispers and gentle touches. Ignoring the impulse to wake him up and shower him with kisses, Millicent instead picked up her clothes, redressed, and scowled at her reflection as she left the common room. She made sure to shoot a silent stinging hex over her shoulder to scare the birds away.
A week after Sally Anne's funeral, Millicent moved out of her parents' home and took a job in an old wizarding village in the north of the country. She was only a 30 minute broom ride from Hogsmeade, and it made travel easy. Having always been great with hexes, she joined a private healer's team casting counter hexes and reversing some nasty spells that she was all too familiar with. It felt good to help others, and Millicent had to laugh at herself for enjoying her work so much. More than once, she postulated that maybe she wasn't as cold as she had let on.
She lived alone, in a modern flat decorated impeccably. Pansy came over now and then for drinks, marvelling at Millicent's independence and pestering her about her love life. Of course she wasn't seeing anyone; the company of expensive wine, occasional friends, work, and study was enough to keep Millicent's nights as happy as her days.
On evenings when her home was stifling, she made her way down to the local pub. The bartender always flirted with her, and she liked the chance to try new cocktails for free. When the bartender, Jimmy, asked her out for lunch, Millicent said yes, and she soon found herself inexplicably in a relationship. She wasn't overly invested in him, but she liked it that way. Jimmy could never hurt her, because she didn't care.
She ignored the dreams that flooded her, dreams that made her wake up with a racing heart and sweaty palms. The freckled skin and soft eyes had no place in her life, and she pushed down the feelings of want and loneliness as quickly as they came.
((((()))))
Get up, get out, get away from these liars
'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time
Charlie looked forward to the semi-weekly tradition of meeting his brothers and sister for drinks at various pubs around England. It had started the day after Fred's funeral, and while that evening brought melancholy and despair, as well as a catatonic George, the subsequent following get-togethers were increasingly jovial. Six months after the war, Charlie marvelled at the fact that he could see a smile on everyone's face, even George's, and he was excited to get thoroughly pissed and waste away his Saturday night.
Coming home from Romania every other weekend was a challenge, but well worth it. Tonight it was Bill's turn to pick the pub, and Charlie was headed to some barmy old place in the middle of Muggle London which happened to house a small wizarding neighbourhood. Bill called it the 'Poor Man's Diagon Alley.' Charlie thought it suited the Weasleys just fine…except maybe George.
The sea of red heads in various states of cut and style welcomed Charlie like any sitting room hearth, as did the rousing cheers of welcome from their crowded table. Charlie ordered himself a nice, dark lager and sat down in between Ginny and Percy. It was apparently significant other night as Percy was clinging to Oliver Wood like a life raft, Neville Longbottom was shyly holding Ginny's hand while stealing glances at her brothers nervously, Hermione had her hand resting on Ron's shoulder, Fleur was busy marvelling at some strong looking cocktail, and even George was whispering mischievously in Angelina's ear. Charlie tried not to be maudlin enough to feel alone, but the situation called for the obvious.
Getting rightly pissed was the only respite Charlie could find in this heady, coupley environment. When Ron and Hermione started snogging in a dark corner of the pub, Charlie couldn't help but laugh. He literally couldn't help it. He was too drunk, that everything seemed funny, and nothing was tragic at all. He didn't even notice when Harry Potter came and sat down beside him.
"A lone wolf!" Charlie shouted, pulling Harry into a crushing hug.
"Nah, I'm just waiting for someone actually." He shrugged, sipping his own drink.
"Of course you are. Who isn't?" Charlie slurred.
"Obviously you're waiting too."
"What the fuck is that supposed to say?" It sounded better in Charlie's head.
"Oh come on, Charlie! Everyone is talking about it. You're lonely, and you're not even pulling like you used to," Harry said, blushing despite his firm tone.
"How do you all know? I'm only in England every other weekend," Charlie argued. His defiance was making him dizzy.
"You get cranky when you don't get laid." Bill came up behind him, putting a plate of chips down in the centre of the wooden table and popping one into his mouth before licking his fingers. When he fed one to Fleur, Charlie started to imagine that cranky was an understatement. "Have you met anyone at all?"
Em flashed in his mind. The truth of the matter was, Charlie had met lots of women, all of them better than the last. But none of them came close to moving him the way that enigmatic Slytherin girl had. She invaded his dreams and brought him to the edge more times than any other woman he had ever met. All Charlie wanted was Em, and nothing else was good enough.
Bill was looking at Charlie far too closely, and when Charlie caught the knowing look on Harry's face, he groaned. He had never been good at hiding things. He was nearly as expressive as Ron when it came to his emotions. He tried to get up to get another drink, but he felt two pairs of hands on his shoulders, forcing him to his seat.
"Who is she?" Bill asked excitedly.
"That's the thing!" Charlie groaned, gripping his hair. "I don't really know."
"Wow…" Harry said with lifted eyebrows.
"No, it's not like that. We…well…oh Gods don't judge me. I needed it. I needed something! She was there, and she was so- I can't even describe it. I just wanted an escape," Charlie's foggy mind pleaded.
"What are you talking about, mate?" Harry asked, obviously confused.
"The night you killed Voldemort…"
"You didn't!" Bill shouted, slamming his cup down. He looked angry. "When….we were….Fred had just…"
"I get it," Harry whispered, taking another swig of his drink. "After the war, all I wanted was escape. It can feel so good. I understand the need for relief."
Harry's eyes darted for the door when a gust of cold, November air blew into the pub. He immediately got to his feet, murmuring 'speaking of which' under his breath as he gathered his drink. Charlie and Bill looked frantically around the room for the newcomer, but couldn't see any woman standing out. When they looked back for Harry, they had lost him in the crowd as well. Bill shrugged and took another drink.
"Where'd Harry go?" Ron came over, sliding into his empty seat. His lips were red and swollen, and his hair a mess. Bill gave him an appraising look. "Hermione's in the loo."
"Harry's special friend came, but we can't seem to figure out who it is, or to find him," Charlie answered, hoping Ron would shed some light on the situation. Ron's jaw clenched and he looked away. Obviously it was a tense situation and Charlie couldn't handle any more tension.
"So did ya ask him about his knob and wetting it yet?" Ron asked Bill, punching Charlie in the shoulder when Charlie shoved him.
"Yeah, and apparently Charlie hasn't gotten any since the night Voldemort was defeated," Bill answered bitterly. "Tasteless pervert."
"Why is he a perv?" Ron asked, genuinely puzzled.
"If I have to explain myself…"
"Hermione and I…we…well that night was…" Ron stuttered and then took another drink. Bill threw his hands up and walked away. "So who is she?"
"She told me to call her Em and she's in Slytherin," Charlie said warily. Ron's expression darkened, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "She's tall, my height, with choppy blonde hair that had bright red streaks in it. She's a bigger girl, full figured and strong."
Ron's pale face became even paler, and Charlie held out a fleeting hope that maybe she had been in Ron's year. He looked at Ron anxiously, even as his brother's face went from shock, to disbelief, to disgust, and back to shock. Charlie tensed for ridicule, though he didn't quite understand why.
"Millicent Bulstrode," Ron groaned, putting his head in his hands.
It was an odd name, but as Charlie moved the letters of her name closer to her face in his mind, it suited her. He smiled, imagining calling her Millie in their more tender moments. With a name, he could send an owl. With a name, he could find her. With a name, he knew what to call out if he ever saw her again. He leapt from his seat with a strong resolve, and instantly passed out.
(((((((((((((((()))))))))))))
You don't understand why my heart feels bad
From the love you hold out in your hand
And you offer it without command
I just don't know why I can't get you inside,
Why I need you tonight...
Millicent rolled out of Jimmy's bed and walked over to his closet. She kept a spare bit of healer's robes tucked in the back, and she gathered them together and made her way to the shower. After a while, she began to enjoy the feeling of spending the night with someone, of waking up in his arms. Jimmy may not have been her first choice, but she knew she could never have what she wanted. Charlie Weasley was out of her reach, and it was her fault. Being with Jimmy was nice, it was comfortable. No one was going to throw around love or commitment, but they had an understanding.
She walked out of his loo fully dressed and ready for work. Jimmy was standing in his kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand and a scowl on his face. "Leaving again, are you?"
"I have work, Jimmy."
"Wanna come back tonight?"
"Do you really want to see me again so soon? We'll get sick of each other!" Millicent smiled and rolled her eyes.
"You mean you'll get sick of me," Jimmy said, frowning. She shook her head, gathered her things and walked out the door. She didn't have time to deal with Jimmy's dramatics right then, and she didn't want to.
Millicent spent her entire morning trying to undo a nasty Rictumsempre that some vindictive little nine year old wizard decided to cast on his nanny, using her own wand. When the curse was finally relieved and the patient sedated to sleep off the after effects to her muscles, Millicent grabbed her lunch and made her way to the nearest park bench. She was eating her sandwich happily, closing her eyes against the sun, when an owl landed on and dug his claws into her shoulder painfully. Millicent opened the letter, addressed to her in unfamiliar handwriting, with apprehension and annoyance.
Millicent, Hi! It's Charlie. Charlie Weasley. Remember me? It took me forever to figure out your name. You were certainly keen on hiding, weren't you? Well, I finally told Ron about you, and he caught on right away. So I was wondering, do you wanna get together for dinner sometime soon? We can catch up. I'm sure there's more to be said…wouldn't you agree? -Charlie
She wadded up the letter, startling the geese in the pond in front of her and deeply offending the owl which delivered it. She got a shoulder full of scratches as a result.
"Well what did he expect?" She yelled at the owl. "It was…it was an awful night and I needed that. But that is all it was. Why in the world would I want to catch up after all this time?"
The old tawny owl cocked his head to the side as if to say "You know the answer to that."
Millicent huffed and stormed back to work. She suddenly wasn't hungry at all.
When she arrived at the steps of her flat, she sighed in relief. She couldn't wait to sit down to a nice cup of tea, the next novel on her reading list, and her fluffy, overstuffed sofa. She jumped when she heard an indignant 'squawk' to her left. She recognized the handwriting this time when the beautiful spotted owl held out her leg delicately. Millicent was smart enough to smile, say thank you, and offer a treat this time.
Millicent, Listen, there was something there. I know there was! I can't just let this die out without at least exploring it. Please write me back, even if it's to tell me you're not interested. I'm not the kind of man who likes to waste time on 'what if'. -Charlie
Millicent would be lying to herself if she said Charlie and their night together meant nothing. She refused to acknowledge that moment, when they were joined together, and she gripped his shoulders tightly, that she felt like they belonged together. In those minutes, where her eyes met his, she could have given in to him, and let him hold her forever. Her weakness was an added tragedy when it was over, and she left before she could humiliate herself further. Now here he was, reaching out to her, like she hadn't turned her back on that feeling.
She crumpled the paper and threw it in the fire.
Getting blind drunk and fucking Jimmy in the mattress was the best idea Millicent could come up with, so she headed down to the pub. Jimmy wasn't on shift, and she went up to his flat to find him and shag him before the serious drinkers trickled in. She opened his door to find him naked, with some bird's legs wrapped around his torso. She was tall, thin, and had perfect, shiny black hair. Millicent held back a cry as she slammed the door. Heavy footsteps followed her.
"Millie! Millie, wait!" Jimmy was following after her, a sheet wrapped around his waist.
"Don't call me that!" She screeched back, making her way down the steps. Despite his appearance, he followed her.
"Listen, I don't know what you're so put off about. You're the one who didn't want anything serious!" he defended. Luckily the bar wasn't too crowded yet.
"But I wasn't going around shagging anyone else!" she shouted incredulously.
"That's because no one will have you," Jimmy snapped back. Millicent felt a stab in her chest, but swallowed it down. He looked apologetic. "Listen, I was doing you a favour. You needed some, you're a good shag…but…well…you aren't much to look at."
Before she could break down in tears, Millicent turned and walked away. She was always so comfortable in her body and happy with her looks. But there was a chink in her armour eroded away by criticism and indifference. She clenched her hands tightly by her side and tried to convince herself that Jimmy was a chav who wasn't worth her body. She was better off and she knew it.
So why did she suddenly feel so worthless?
She trudged up the stairs to her flat, made it to the couch, and Accioed her best bottle of wine. When the room started to spin, she finally began to fall asleep. A voice somewhere in the back of her mind kept whispering "someone wants you, and you know it."
((((((((((())))))))))))
Every minute from this minute now
We can do what we like anywhere
I want so much to open your eyes
'Cause I need you to look into mine
It had been a week since Charlie sent that letter to Millicent, and he still hadn't heard anything from her. He tried not to get discouraged. Confidence was a Weasley trait after all (well, except for Ron), and he clung to it in his more doubtful moments. It was with that thought that he held off writing another letter. He had to give Millicent time to consider him. For all Charlie knew, she had forgotten all about him. However, if anything about that night were real, she wouldn't have.
He sat down to write his third and final letter. The light-hearted nature of Charlie's usual missives, and indeed all of his banter would have to be abandoned. He pictured her face clearly in his mind, and his hand stretched out as if to palm the phantom line of her pale jaw. He needed her, and she needed to know that.
Millicent, I am a patient man, but I'm not a fool. This is the last letter I'll send to you. You and I could be great together, given the chance. I felt it that night. It took me a long time to convince myself that it was you I needed, but I'm here now. I'll wait for you tonight at the Hog's Head pub. You can come, and I'll promise to give you everything I can. Or you can choose not to show and I'll move on. -Charlie
He sighed and sealed the letter. He walked down to the Owlery in Hogsmeade and selected the most beautiful owl he could find. He was a large, snowy owl that matched Hedwig in beauty and grace. If she didn't want to be moved by him, at least the letter got there in a moving way. He sent his owl off and made his way to Zonko's to help George with the latest Wheezes buyout. The bell clanged, and he didn't pay attention to the "grand entrance generator" currently blowing cheering charms and confetti at him.
"Bit the bullet then, mate?" George asked, a quill between his teeth as he looked over contracts.
"Yeah, now I just have to wait," Charlie said, suddenly feeling more hopeless.
"Any woman who doesn't know the worth of a Weasley man isn't worth him anyway," Angelina said, pressing her lips to George's furrowed brow. He jerked away and slammed the contracts on the counter.
"Fucking Merlin! I have no head for numbers! This was Fred's part!" George said, gripping his hair tightly.
Charlie and Angelina locked eyes for a moment before she walked over to him. She gingerly picked up the contracts and took a seat next to George. She ran her thumb over the top of his spine, where his neck met the collar of his shirt, and pressed her nose against the soft skin there. She whispered a few words in his ear and George visibly relaxed. Charlie had a moment of painful longing at the sight of their partnership, and went further into the store to help old Zonko pack up his personal items.
When it came time to head to the pub for the semi-bi-quasi-weekly-monthly Weasley drinking fest, Charlie was feeling especially sorry for himself. He was sure Millicent wouldn't show up. He spent all night telling himself that she would have answered the first letter if she wanted anything to do with him. Despite the statement that he was no fool, Charlie felt foolish. He didn't even bother to drink, and just sat there sipping at coffee and watching everyone else laugh. At last call, he sighed and got ready to set up the international Portkey to take him back to Romania.
(((((())))))
Cause you don't know about me,
And you don't care how this affair will break me.
And why should I care about you, if you don't care,
You don't care that I love you?
Millicent paced along the walkway directly in front of The Hog's Head. She took it as a sign when Charlie said he would be so near to where she lived, but now that she was there, all of her bravado had faded away. She didn't think she could face all of that possibility in one sharp-eyed grin. She groaned as she once again stopped herself from turning the handle and walked in the other direction.
When she turned back around toward the door for what felt like the hundredth time, Draco Malfoy was standing there, smoking a cigarette and smirking menacingly at her. If he wasn't an omen of bad luck, she didn't know what was. She quickly shielded her face and turned back around, only to hear the 'crack' of Apparation right in front of her.
"It gets easier after the first big plunge," he whispered, blowing a smoke ring into the air.
"What are you on about, Malfoy?" she said, silently relieved that she didn't have to face her own demons when there was a ridiculously blond one facing her.
"Letting some of the walls down, going for it…" Draco said, taking another drag. He got a scowl on his face and whispered, "Falling for a Gryffindor."
"How did you-"
"You don't think Charlie has spilled his guts out to everyone in his little circle?" Draco said haughtily.
"Oh, best chums with the Weasleys now, are we?"
"No, not exactly," he answered enigmatically. "Listen, Millie…"
"Don't call me that!"
"You're destroying him. He's just sitting there, watching the door like some sort of pathetic, bitter puppy. It's not so bad, giving up a little part of yourself, compared to what you get back," he whispered. He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and went back into the pub, leaving Millicent speechless and completely bewildered.
Shaking, she walked in the other direction. She couldn't face it, she couldn't face him. It was too much. She was not ready to let so much of herself go. It wasn't safe to trust someone, especially someone she barely knew. He had gained so much power over her, and in such a small amount of time, that she spent months trying to get it back. To lay all of the most delicate pieces of herself at his feet was a horrifying thought. Her stomach clenchedas she turned the corner.
Then, she pictured him writing those letters. He had already laid those pieces out for her. He had already given her the power, without question. She pressed her back up against the chilled brick of the nearest building and tried to calm her breathing. Her arms ached to reach out, and her eyes watered as she continued to war with herself. Finally, she began to run back toward the entrance of the pub, fast enough that her mind couldn't catch up.
She nearly fell to her knees when she saw the barman closing the doors and turning off the lights to the pub. Self loathing like she never felt before flooded her. She had lost her chance. She kicked a wall, and started crying at the pain it caused in her pinched toes. She was happy for the excuse to cry.
"International Portkey Office, about five kilometres north," a man whispered in her ear. She turned to find a retreating red head, but from the back, they all looked the same. She only knew it wasn't Charlie. His voice was burned in her mind. He may not have said many words, but the timbre of his voice sang in every dream, every fantasy she had.
Millicent knew where the office was, and she hoped beyond hope that she wasn't too late. She raised her wand and didn't even flinch at the tight pull her body took as she moved to her destination. When she landed, she stumbled slightly, and then began to look around frantically. She ran through the vacant office, her heels clicking madly against the worn wooden floor.
It was a nondescript building for being the only hub of international magical travel in Northern England. She panicked at how desolate it was. She floated frantically from room to room, fighting the urge to shout his name, she knew he wasn't there.
She sat heavily on the guest couches in the waiting room and began to cry. It wasn't just Charlie. She never had him for long enough to really feel his loss. It was the loss of that momentary hope that had invaded her soul for a glorious few hours. Millicent longed to just feel like things were doing more than just passing by contentedly. She was so lonely, and paralyzed with the fear of having to recognize that her left wasn't quite…well…living.
The warmth that enfolded her body was so foreign that she jumped and struggled for a moment. When she stopped moving, the first thing she noticed was his smell. He always smelled faintly of smoke, and soil, and sweat, and something sweet that didn't fit at all but was immensely perfect. She couldn't bring herself to touch him back.
"I'm sorry. I probably should have said something before I manhandled you," Charlie whispered, beginning to pull away.
Millicent finally found her courage, finally found the will to reach back, and gripped his forearm, willing him to remain as he was. He did, and they both sighed in relief, like pouring water over a burning fire. When Millicent finally found her voice, she was shocked at the words that came out.
"Look at me, let me see your eyes," she said, her throat hoarse. He leaned back, brushing away strands of her hair before fixing his deep hued eyes on hers. There it was, that small ounce of assurance she didn't have before. She was suddenly invincible, instead of just unbreakable.
There was something to his stare, a promise she'd never asked for, but something she desperately needed. He leaned down and kissed her softly, lightly, before wiping away the tears on her face. He pressed his forehead to hers.
"I know that you don't know me, but the spark is here. I can feel it. I can't ignore it. I'm sorry if I bothered you with letters, but I'm not one to give up so easily," he said, kissing up and down her face.
"I'm glad you're not, because I tend to get discouraged when the situation doesn't warrant it," she answered, pressing her nose into his neck.
"Let's pick up where we left of, shall we?" he asked, tracing the line of her face with his finger.
Millicent backed up and let go of his hands. She didn't want to pick up there. That night was exactly what they needed in those dark hours after the war. But now, Millicent wanted more. She never did anything half-assed. She wasn't going to tiptoe her way through this.
"No, Charlie Weasley. You are going to take me on a proper date. And not some hole-in-the wall pub. A real date!" she said, smirking as she backed away and crossed her arms.
Charlie rushed forward, grabbed the back of her head and kissed her hard. His tongue ran across her lips and she complied, kissing him greedily. She pressed her body so tightly against his, that she thought they'd never be free of each other.
"I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow," he whispered. He kissed just below her ear, and then Disapparated on the spot.
Millicent had to fight the urge to squeal like a first year Hufflepuff. Of course she never actually would do something that ridiculous, but the fact that she wanted to was a perspective she was excited to undertake. She thought back to the bottle of wine on her coffee table and Apparated home to anticipate the next day with excitement and delicious apprehension.