A/N: Rated T due to non-explicit sex references.

A Missed Memo

You used to think that couples arguing about their sex lives was something that only happened on the soap operas your mum used to play on the Wizarding Wireless Network when she thought you and Bill weren't listening.

You were wrong, evidently, and you morosely consider this as you regard your girlfriend, angrily standing in front of you with her hands on her hips in what you recognize as her battle stance. You're not sure you can even call it an argument—you don't consider the topic interesting or important enough to talk much, and so you silently listen to her as she lays out her sharply articulated points, one-by-one.

"I don't really see the reason for it—I mean, it's just movement, after all," you finally reply with a casual shrug, because you can see that she's mad but you can't begin to comprehend why, "But if it makes you happy, then that's that."

"That's my whole point, Charlie," she snaps, "For normal people it's more than that."

The sentence stings because she intends it to, but you squash the temptation to reply that as far as you're concerned, you are normal.

"Merlin, haven't you noticed yet?" Your newest girlfriend suddenly snaps shut the book she was reading and gives you an exasperated, accusing look. Your Friday night tradition of snuggling up in front of a fire to ward off those cold Romanian nights and quietly reading seems to have come to an abrupt end.

"Noticed what?" You finally reply, slowly closing the book on Norwegian Ridgebacks that you yourself were reading.

She's regarding you with an incredulously disbelieving look. "I thought—I mean—I wanted to see if you would care, or even notice—if we just stopped doing anything. And you didn't!" The expression on her face almost suggests offense.

"What do you mean? We do things all the time," you slowly reply. "We went on that trip to Yugoslavia just last week, and we have tickets to see the Holyhead Harpies in a few days."

"I meant physically, Charlie," she states with a tone reminiscent of a teacher explaining something to a student slow on the up-take.

"But we're cuddling right now," you reply in a similar tone, and she responds with an eye-roll and a sigh.

"I didn't mean it like that, I meant more than that."

Oh. You briefly scan your memories and suppose that's she's right. It's just that the thought never really occurs to you in the first place, so it's not like you notice when it's missing.

She snaps her book up again and hostility grumbles under her breath, "Sometimes I wonder if you're for real, Charlie Weasley."

You've started recognizing the pattern to how your relationships wither away by the time your most recent girlfriend lets out a sad sigh as she regards you. "Charlie—" she begins hesitantly, and she lets out another one of her little sighs. "Sometimes I feel like you don't really have feelings for me."

"What? Of course I have feelings for you!" you exclaim, surprised she could even doubt that. "I love you, and if this is about my working overtime last weekend—"

"I didn't mean—I should've phrased that better," she softly interrupts. "I don't doubt that you love me, I just don't think you feel any sort of spark towards me, any chemistry."

"But of course I care about you!" you repeat. "Just being around you makes me so happy, and when you got too close to that Norwegian Ridgeback I was worried sick—"

"Sweetie, that's not the same thing as feeling chemistry for me," she gently explains, and there must be a confused expression on your face, because she continues with a wry smile, "You don't even know what I mean, do you? What a 'spark' is, or what 'chemistry' is?"

You feel a bubbling frustration in your heart as you try to comprehend what is perfectly uncomprehendable to you. It's not the first time you've felt this way—indeed, it seems to follow slightly ahead of the death knells for each of your relationships—but you can't help feeling yet again that the whole world is in on some inside joke you never received the memo for.

"Charlie, I love you too, but I don't want this sort of relationship—I want a relationship with some sort of mutual passion to it, and I don't think you can give me that." She stands up to give you a peck on the forehead before leaving the room.

"Und was machst du?" The manager of the dragon colony, a German man with grey hair and a fatherly sort of face, is walking towards you. "It's the veekend, is it not? You aren't on dragon-watching duty." You mumble something under your breath, hoping that will appease his question, but instead he replies, "Eh? Vat's that? I'm getting to be an old man, Charlie, you have to speak up."

"Elena and I broke up," you repeat slightly louder. "She's moving out of our flat today so I thought I would give her some space."

"Ah, I zee. Vell, I'm sorry, but I shouldn't complain if that means you vork extra hours." He gives you a teasing grin that you weakly mimic, before he becomes a bit more serious. "I've always thought dragons vere more interesting than relationships, personally."

There's something almost relaxing about his understanding and you reply with a lighter tone, "You'll be getting more hours out of me yet; I've been thinking of taking a break from relationships to study dragons more." And you can't help but smile as you think that perhaps someday you'll find someone who, like you, seems to have never received the memo concerning the world's inside joke. Until then, though, you think you'll be more than happy focusing on raising dragons.

…

A/N: So I posted too late for National Coming Out Day (October 11th), and I'm posting too early for Asexual Awareness Week (October 23rd), but I really wanted to write a one-shot about an asexual character, so I chose to write this piece with heteroromantic!asexual!Charlie. (Quick note for those of you who don't know: asexuality is a sexual orientation defined by a lack of sexual attraction. Asexuals can experience romantic attraction, though, as separate from sexual attraction, as shown in this piece.) If you think this piece didn't do a good job of showing the perspective of a romantic asexual, definitely let me know so I can improve it, and any other constructive criticism is also appreciated. (I've written an asexual character before, since I wrote Avery as an aromantic asexual in "Kissing Chess Pieces", but it was a bit more of a challenge to write an asexual character who wasn't aromantic.)