It's cold, for May, but then again, it's England.

Bill sits outside on a discarded folding chair. He's staring in the distance, and doesn't seem to notice as Charlie plops down beside him.

"Fred's dead," he says heavily, suddenly.

"Yeah." Charlie looks grim, but he puts his arm around his brother and does not cry.

"Fuck." Bill's head goes down, down into his hands, and his shoulders begin to shake.

Charlie does not cry. He does not say anything. He only hugs his brother and closes his eyes against the tears.

"I got there after he was…down," he says presently, with no preamble.

"Yeah. I know. I—Godric, I'm so sorry. I'm so goddamn idiotic! I was lecturing Fleur to stay home, and then I Apparated to Hogwarts, and then I was trying to find someone—anyone—who would point me towards my family. And Lee Jordan tells me he's dead." He says the word baldly, truthfully, but Charlie does not cry.

"At least you've been here—you've been here for the shop, for him to quit Hogwarts, for everything. I've been away—gone in Romania. Out of sight, out of mind." Yet he does not cry.

"No, Charlie, you were always on our minds. We missed you. We still do, Charlie, we always will."

"I don't know if I can go back," Charlie says, but he does not cry.

"But you love the dragons!" Bill says, shocked from his usual calm and even his tears.

Charlie shrugs. "But I loved Fred more. That doesn't mean he's still alive. But I'll be here from now on, dragons or no."

His brother stares, but Charlie does not break down. He does not cry.

Thunder claps overhead, and he shrugs again. The rain comes all at once, blinding them, soaking them.

But his eyes are dry.

"Let's go," Bill says, pulling his brother to his feet. "Mum'll kill us."

Charlie trudges behind him, blinking very fast and scrunching up his face. He does not cry.

Finally, they are at the door of the Burrow. Bill forces him inside before him, and they shake like dogs at the entryway.

"For heaven's sake, boys!" Molly says, bustling in and pulling off their coats.

"It's alright, Mum—we're all right." Charlie does not trust himself to speak, so it's Bill fending off their mother.

She rolls her eyes and walks off to get towels. Bill grins and turns to his brother—who is gone.

He's slipped back outside. His shoulders shake, but his eyes are dry. He sits on the lawn chair and does not cry. He stands and paces, but he does not cry. He walks away, away from the Burrow. But he is not crying.

A block later, the rain is much too salty and hot on his cheeks. He licks a tear from his face and rubs his eyes. He is crying.

The rain still falls, and he continues to cry. He collapses in a heap a few blocks from the Burrow, sobbing. He cannot possibly help it anymore.

He's still crying as he stands up and walks back. He's shivering, wet, and he bawls on. He's half way back to the house when his brother meets him, glaring. His face softens as he reads Charlie's expression and pulls him into a hug.

"It's alright, Charlie. We're all right."

"No, Bill, we aren't all right." He hasn't cried since he was eleven, leaving his family behind. But he's crying now.

"We're here," Bill says, and leads his brother back to the house. Molly gives them reproachful looks, but like Bill, she softens at the sight of Charlie crying. She takes over the hugging, her motherly touch nearly drying his tears.

"I wasn't there…" he tells her.

"You were," she insists. "You were in Freddie's heart when he was hit, baby. You were with us."

The rain falls, and Charlie cries.


A/N: I've had this one saved for a while now, but I keep forgetting about it...It's for Cuba's Nature Challenge.