Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Title: Some You Give Away
Author: Kris
Gift For: Kyle
Beta: Kamerreon / elainemalfoy88
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Past RW/HP, HP/CW, RW/HG
Warnings: slash: male/male, het: male/female, implied sexual intercourse, mentioned underage sexual relations, and AU.

Summary: Ron and Hermione give Harry and Charlie a Christmas gift. No matter how much it hurts.

..::..::..::..::..::..::

I've watched him since I've known him. It started with chocolate frogs, progressed to wild adventures, and then one night we fell into bed together. I was ecstatic, but I knew, even then, that he didn't know. He's never known. And people call me oblivious.

I couldn't tell you when I fell in love with him. It could have been when we battled a Mountain Troll together, or sometime during the flying trip to Hogwarts, or maybe it was when I was waiting for him to bring my baby sister back to me. I've never been able to pinpoint it, but it feels like it's been forever.

People assume that my anger towards him has always been jealousy. I let them think that. They assume that I was jealous when his name came out of the cup. Honestly, I was terrified. I was angry; I hated that he had entered and not told me! I would have tried to talk him out of it. When he denied entering the stupid tournament, my fear tripled. I've never been as slow as everyone assumes I am…. I knew in that moment that something horrible was going to happen. I was terrified and in my naïve stupidity I took my fear out on him. I replaced it with anger and jealousy and lashed out at the one person I should have been pulling in closer. Maybe that's why things have turned out the way they have.

He thought I didn't notice, but then again he never knew how I watched him. It started simple enough: a quick glance, a subtle blush, a random question about his wellbeing. I knew what it would lead to, and I couldn't help but blame myself. Maybe if I had handled my own emotions better, his interest would be in me – rather than my brother.

He never told me, but I'm certain that he knows I know. Somehow, it became one of the few forbidden topics between us. Even as we lay together in the aftermath of a glorious orgasm, I know his heart is elsewhere.

I know that I'm not the one who stars in his dreams and that the mumbled name that falls from his delicious lips is not my own. I watch, my heart breaking, as he smiles and whispers of love and commitment and satisfaction. I watch, wishing that I held his heart as he holds mine.

..::..::..::..::..::..::

We sit quietly in the compartment on the Hogwarts Express – our final Christmas Holiday as students. I'm amazed we made it this far. After our first year I wondered how long the 'Golden Trio' would live. Our adventures are legendary and usually disastrous to our health.

I sit next to Hermione and watch him sleep; his sleep has been riddled with nightmares since that blasted tournament. The final task, the night when he defeated Voldemort for good. The night that he came to me for comfort. The night that we began our twisted nocturnal relationship. I dare not ask if he came to me because I'm the closest he can get to him.

I was pleased that he came to me and thrilled to know that I was the only one he had been with – even as I knew that he would eventually leave me. I sigh because I know that the end is drawing near.

I look to my left and flash the wonderful woman next to me a sad smile. I know her secret, and she knows mine. I take her hand and lace our fingers together as we continue to watch our love. I indulge in selfish thoughts of how I had at least been with him, while she had not. Our love had never been inclined towards women; Ginny had sulked endlessly when she found out.

Hermione lays her head on my shoulder and sighs softly as his thrashing quiets and his dreams take a turn. A mumbled name slips from his lips and she stares. The name had been distinguishable – now she knows as well.

"It's him?" she asks.

I nod. "It's always been him. Since fourth year," I say quietly.

"I'm sorry, love," she says. And somehow I know she means it. She hates that we both hurt over a love we will never have.

"He's going to be there this year," I tell her. "We should do something."

She chuckles shortly. "What can we do? Is he even interested in our Harry?"

I nod once. "He watches."

"Okay, then."

..::..::..::..::..::..::

I always dread the day before Christmas Eve. My family calls it a memorial day. A day to remember the fallen. I call it morbid and depressing. Every day spent as Harry's friend reminds me of everyone we've lost. We don't really need a day dedicated to grief.

The Burrow is as full as ever: a sea of redheads with a spattering of brown, black and white. I find it amusing that brown, such a common color, sticks out as odd here. The kitchen is too small, so dinner is held in the garden under warming charms and fairy lights.

He looks beautiful, his eyes shining with suppressed emotions, as he watches my brother, who is perched on a chair next to Bill. A small smile graces his lips and his green eyes sparkle, reminding me slightly of the Headmaster, who is surprisingly joining us tonight.

He told me once that in life we have to take every available chance to celebrate. How he knows what's going to happen before it does I'll never know, but sure enough there's a bit of celebration tonight. An engagement. Who knew Bill could land a Veela?

I watch him as he watches my brother and feel a soft hand grasp mine and squeeze gently. I tear my eyes away and they fall upon the chocolate brown of my fellow sufferer.

"Tonight," she says quietly in my ear. I'm surprised by the shivers that run though my body and the sudden arousal that accosts me. Only one has ever caused that reaction.

I nod and turn back to watching. I chuckle quietly as Charlie looks up and catches Harry staring. Neither of them has any sense of subtly. It amazes me that no one else has caught on yet. They constantly try to watch the other without being noticed. This should be easy.

..::..::..::..::..::..::

The guests have left, leaving only the Weasley family along with Harry and Hermione – although I guess you could say that they are family as well.

Harry had moved in after fourth year. With Voldemort gone he no longer needed the protection of the Dursleys. Sirius had finally been freed, but is in a required three-year mental health rehabilitation. He'll be finished at the end of the year.

Hermione was here often enough that she had finally been given her own room. We converted the attic into two small bedrooms. They never complained about the size, and Harry never migrated to another bed in this house. He claimed it was disrespectful, but I think he just doesn't want anybody to know. He's afraid that if they do his chances with the one he wants will be shot. I hate that I agree with him….

I can't fault him for loving my brother. Everyone does. With his laidback, friendly attitude and quiet charm, it's somewhat amazing that he's still single. But then again, not many people are willing to share him. Harry's different. He's willing to share – if only because he understands.

Harry understands and shares the love of dragons. Maybe that's the connection that I don't have; maybe I just can't ever understand that urge. Ever since the first task, Harry has been obsessed with dragons. Maybe they just understand each other in ways that I never could.

It's late, and my love is lying on a rug in front of the fire. He has his books spread out in front of him and a warm butterbeer cradled in his left hand. He studies endlessly these days. N.E.W.T.s are coming soon, and he refuses to lose his dream job because of low test scores. He's determined to go play with dragons.

Charlie is sitting in the center of a threadbare sofa, sipping a snifter of Firewhisky, watching. I turn to Hermione and tilt my head in his direction, an unasked question in my eyes. Her gaze shifts from me, to Charlie, to Harry, and back. She nods twice and moves across the room to sit on Charlie's left; I move forward and perch myself stiffly at his right.

Charlie's eyes never stray from the beautiful figure lying in front of the fire, and I know that I have to do this – I have to say something. A subtle flick of my wand surrounds the sofa with a privacy charm, ensuring that Harry remains ignorant of this conversation.

"He's in love with you," I say quickly, knowing that if I stall I will never be able to do this.

Charlie starts and his gaze whips to my face. His eyes hold questions, fear, and hope.

Hermione reaches her hand over to grasp Charlie's. "He is," she agrees. "It's always been you."

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly, his body stiff with tension.

I chuckle and slip an arm around his shoulders. "Yes," I say firmly. "I'm sure."

"Since when?"

"Fourth year."

Charlie gasps quietly. I can understand his surprise.

"He loves you," I say. "When Harry loves, he loves completely. He never does something halfway," I explain, and try to keep certain images out of my head. I know for a fact that halfway isn't possible for him.

"Why…?" Charlie trails off, his eyes glued to our love.

Hermione fills in the silence. "Didn't he say anything?"

A nod is our only answer.

"He was scared," I say simply.

..::..::..::..::..::..::

I watch them, but this time I'm not alone. Hermione's sitting next to me, holding my hand. I glance at her and the small smile on my face is mirrored on hers. They are standing together beside the shed. The full moon reflecting off the snow illuminates them as if it were day.

It hadn't taken long after we talked to Charlie for him to drag Harry outside for a conversation. We can't hear the words, but the emotions reflected on Harry's face are enough. The sheer happiness shining from his eyes, a sight so rare that it is to be cherished, tells us that our love has finally been given a chance.

They talk for hours and I wonder what they are saying. We watch as the emotions filter. At one point I see fear and reluctance cross Harry's face. Jealousy and anger cross Charlie's and he nearly leaves Harry standing there alone; Harry grabs his arm and begs. Charlie reluctantly turns back and listens. I wonder what exactly they are talking about, but I am fairly certain that Harry is telling him about me.

I can see the tears falling from emerald eyes and long to wipe them away, but I know that is not my place. Rough hands reach forward and erase their trails from his cheeks and I close my eyes, willing myself to be happy for them.

When I look again, they are close, embracing as their lips meet, and I can see their passion as Harry's hands curl into Charlie's shaggy hair. It's a passion that has always been missing from our encounters, and I know. I know that we did the right thing; I gave Harry the best Christmas gift I could. My breathing hitches and I allow a single tear to fall before I turn away and drag Hermione with me to my room, where we seek to chase away the pain together.

..::..::..::..::..::..::

It's Christmas Eve and we're sitting at the table. Last night had been surprisingly wonderful. I've never been with a female before, and Hermione has never been with anyone. I wonder slightly if I'll always be cursed to be the 'comfort' but, when I look into her eyes, I find myself hoping that I'll be more.

She smiles shyly at me and blushes slightly when I smile back. Maybe this can work.

We're quiet as Harry and Charlie enter together: both wearing their Weasley jumper and a pair of cotton sleep pants, a matching smile on their lips and their hands joined. I'm not sure if they've even noticed us as their lips meet once again in a tender, loving kiss before they sit next to each other and ignore the slightly surprised questions coming from the rest of our family.

I mourn quietly until I feel a hand grasp mine, and then I look up and smile at Hermione. Maybe together we will be able to move past our love.

..::..::..::..::..::..::

It's late, and I'm watching them again. Charlie is sitting in his favorite armchair next to the fire with Harry perched comfortably in his lap. They're reading a book with a Welsh Green flying across the front cover. Charlie's eyes are alight with amusement, and Harry is captivated as he listens to Charlie pointing out various facts and myths.

I smile softly as Hermione joins me on the sofa and leans against my side.

"He's happy," she says.

"He is," I agree.

"I'm glad."

"Me too."

I wrap my arm around her and we watch, quietly, as I wonder if maybe my pushing Charlie in the right direction has given me a wonderful gift as well.

Somehow I know that this Christmas changes everything. Harry will always be our best friend, and we will always do anything we can for him, but I think we just gave him away. His care is now coming from my brother, and I'm happy that I, at least, know he is capable. I know, because Charlie is the same. He's wild and free, and matches Harry in a way that I never could.

See, I've never had a desire to run away from everything I've ever known.

I want to settle down and build a life. Harry wants to escape the pressure of his. Maybe together Harry and Charlie will find their balance, and dragons will become a career rather than an escape.