A/N: This was written for the Family Fic Competition, where the objective is to write a family fic (duh) between 500-2000 words. I was given the characters of Arthur and Charlie. This is also for the Connect The Weasleys Challenge, with the prompts Arthur and Charlie / tea.
All week, Charlie had been grumpy and sarcastic and snapping at everyone. The atmosphere was very tense, everyone was walking on tiptoes around him and even that did little to improve things. One day, when Molly left the room in tears after another one of Charlie's outbursts, Arthur decided this nonsense had lasted long enough.
"Sit down."
Charlie huffs. "Why should I?"
"Because I say so."
"So?" He makes to leave.
"You're not going anywhere. We're going to have a word," Arthur says firmly.
"What if I don't want to?" Charlie challenges.
"You don't have anything to want."
Charlie shrugs. "Whatever."
"You're acting like an arse, Charles Septimus Weasley, and that's not how we raised you!"
That gets his attention alright. Arthur isn't usually one to raise his voice against his children, but when he does, they know it means trouble. Charlie freezes on the spot.
"Did you just say I'm an arse?" he inquires, angrily.
"No, I said you were acting like one. There's a difference. Now sit down."
Reluctantly, Charlie complies. He crosses his arms and looks sulking in the distance, purposely avoiding his father's stern look. Everything about him signals unwillingness.
Arthur sighs. Teenagers.
"Look, I know what this is all about," he tries, his voice a bit softer now.
Charlie raises an eyebrow as though he questions Arthur's sanity. "I highly doubt that."
"This is about Romania."
Charlie doesn't reply, just snorts. But by the way he shuffles in his seat, Arthur can tell he's on the right track. So he pushes on.
"You're scared of leaving all by yourself."
"That's not true! I'm…"
Arthur raises a hand to stop him. "Let me finish."
Charlie glares at him, but shuts his mouth.
"Yes, you're looking forward to going to Romania. Yes, studying dragons is all you ever wanted since you were five years old. You've got the posters on your bedroom wall to prove it. But you've never really been on your own. There's always been us, and your brothers and sister, and at Hogwarts you had your friends. You're excited, yes, but you're also scared. And you dread saying goodbye and leaving everything – and everyone – you know behind. So you're picking fights, pushing them all away, so it won't hurt so much when it's time to leave."
"Quite the speech, Dad, I'm impressed," Charlie sneers.
Arthur knows he's trying to evoke a reaction, but doesn't rise to the challenge. Instead, he lets his gaze rest on his son.
"So what if I were?" Charlie asks defiantly.
Arthur continues his silent gaze. Charlie starts to feel uncomfortable and shuffles his feet. After a minute of prolonged silence, he looks up.
"Okay, so what if I were?" he asks again, less hostile this time.
Arthur sits down next to Charlie.
"It's okay to be scared," he says. "No one thinks any less of you if you admit that. But this… this is not the Charlie I know. The Charlie I know would never yell at his mum that's she's suffocating him."
"Well, she does! She never fretted this much when Bill left the house!"
"Bill didn't leave the country. He went to work in London first. Can't you see the difference?" Arthur inquires softly. "You're going hundreds of miles away. We all care about you, and your mum's just scared that you won't cope in a foreign county, with a different culture and with different rules. You may act tough on the outside, but you're still only seventeen years old."
"I can take care of myself," Charlie huffs.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But look at what you're doing. Your brothers are on edge, Ginny is afraid to even be in the same room as you, and you mum is upstairs crying. Even Bill doesn't know what's gotten into you lately, and you two were always so close." He shakes his head. "That's not how we handle things in this family, Charlie, and quite frankly, I'm a bit disappointed by your behaviour."
"I'm sorry," Charlie mutters, but it doesn't sound like he means it.
There is another silence.
"I'll be in my room if you have nothing more to say," Charlie says after a while and gets up.
"I have an idea," Arthur says, when Charlie's almost at the door. "How about we go together?" The idea just pops into his head, and he's spoken the words before he's even had a chance to think it through. But as soon as he has said it, he knows it is the right thing to do.
Charlie turns, looking confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that we take the trip together. I'll go with you to Romania, see that you're settled in, and when you feel confident enough to continue on your own, I'll return to England."
"Would you do that?" Charlie's eyes are big.
"I will if that makes it less difficult for you."
"But… you have your work…"
"I'll arrange something."
"What about Mum?"
Arthur chuckles. "I think your mum will be a lot less stressed out if I go with you, so don't you worry about that." Then he gets serious again. "However, the choice is yours. If you'd rather go by yourself than with your old man, I will respect that choice. But whatever your decision, I will not accept you stomping around and hurting people anymore. For the past week, you've been acting like an elephant in a porcelain store, on a rampage spree to destroy everything that gets in its way. Or perhaps, in your case, a Romanian Longhorn in Diagon Alley would be a better comparison."
Charlie grins despite himself.
"There's the Charlie I know."
There's a moment of silence. Charlie shuffles his feet again.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"How did you know…"
"I observe," Arthur answers. "I observe and I listen. And I was young once, too."
"Ah."
Arthur senses that there's something else Charlie wants to say, so he waits patiently until Charlie has mustered up the courage to come forward.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"I think I would like it if you came with me," Charlie confesses.
Arthur gives him a warm smile.
"Then that's what we'll do."
"Only… could you… could you not tell the others? Bill'll probably think I'm a baby and I don't want my new colleagues to think I need my Dad to see me off…"
"I don't know what there is to tell. Works brings me to all kind of strange places, and there so happens to be an international congregation on the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts next week in Bucharest. It would be ridiculous not to travel together when our destinations lie so close apart, wouldn't it?"
"You're making that up," Charlie states accusingly. "There's no such thing."
"Am I?" Arthur's eyes sparkle mischievously and Charlie grins again.
"Right. International congregation. Got it," he murmurs. "Of course we can travel together, Dad."
"And since I'm going to be there anyway, what harm is there in visiting my son at his new workplace?"
"None at all," Charlie smiles, and lets out a relieved sigh. "Thanks, Dad."
"Good. Now that we've settled that, go upstairs and apologise to your mum. She doesn't deserve to be treated like you've done."
"I'll do that," Charlie nods. "I guess I have been making a mess of things, haven't I?" He asks in a timid voice.
"Yes you have," Arthur confirms. "But then again, I don't think it's something a sincere apology won't repair."
-0-0-0-0-
"Charlie came to me today," Molly says later that evening, when the children are all in bed and they are snuggled up together on the couch. "It was shortly after that fight we had."
Arthur feigns innocence.
"Yeah? What did he say?"
"It was really weird. Something about being sorry for being a Longhorn and for breaking the porcelain. I checked, and not one piece is missing and I honestly don't know what he was talking about…"
Arthur can't help it, he bursts out laughing. That's such a Charlie way to handle things.
"He may have taken things a little too literally," he says at Molly's confused look. "But trust me, he was trying to apologise for the way he behaved."
"I suppose so," she sighs. She has her hands closed around a mug of tea and she gently blows into it to lower the temperature.
"I wish he wouldn't be going to Romania all by himself," she says all of a sudden, a worried look on her face. "He's just a boy. And Romania is so far away..."
"Yeah, well, about that…" Arthur says and clears his throat. "There's something I need to tell you…"
