Charlie:

Mum's asked me to put up the final touches for the wedding. She's been flustered for the past month and on a brutal cleaning crusade that involves any Weasley dumb enough to show his red haired face around the Burrow lately. You'd think she'd get used to, Ginny's not the first to get married. And I doubt she'll be the last.

Gets me thinking about marriage for me myself, really. I always thought that I'd end up hitched at some point. Now, though, as I've gone through the war and am getting older, I'm realizing marriage might not be for me. We, as Weasley's, have grown up with powerful women. Mum especially. She never held back in speaking her mind, and it's ingrained in all of us boys to be attracted to that. I couldn't imagine some simpering pretty thing, always trying to please. How boring!

I mean look at Bill and Fleur, that is a powerful witch hidden behind a beautiful smile and blond hair. When she get's angry though, she's a terror. I love it. Bill's a lucky man.

Then there is Ron, whose happily married to his Hermione. Not surprise there, even when he was a twig of kid complaining about how she was always right, there was something there. Mum knew it more than the rest of it. She used to hint about it at family dinners. And that girl knows what she wants. Not afraid of anything.

Even the not married boys or starting to settle down. George and his girlfriend Angelina. I think I'm going to be out here soon enough, setting up for another wedding. She's a real hoot. And a fantastic Quidditch player, to boot. But when she starts to get stressed, like last Christmas when she was trying to help around George's shop, she gets quite the driven streak in her. She was ordering me around like a house elf when I came to visit.

Even Percy's found himself a girl. Audrey. I though at first that he was breaking the chain of falling for strong willed women, but I was wrong. She's quiet and bookish at first but in her very peaceful way she orders Percy around like a trained monkey. I love it.

Mum's happy with all their choices, and constantly trying to set me up with "a sweet girl I met at the market" or some such nonsense. She's been going crazy over this one though. Harry has no family so Mum's doubling the invitation list. I've caught her crying twice in the last week. She always dries her tears at once and distracts her self while murmuring an excuse.

I guess she's just being sentimental. Like ol' Bill. Don't know what's gotten into the man, but he's been teary eyed and talking about days when Ginny was knee high to a grasshopper. She is the baby of the family. Our favorite sister.

All of their memories gets me thinking about my own. Though, no weeping for me. Even as I set up the silk banners around the field they are to married in, my eyes drift up to the old hill where we always used to play Quidditch. All of us, we'd even get Percy up there once in a while. He'd generally end up angrily stomping back to Mommy's open arms though. The twins were always open about their mockery and Percy never stood for it.

You know, I was the first one to put that girl on a broomstick. You'd never have thought looking at her now. When I first saw her coming of the pitch still in her Harpy's robes, flushed and breathless from a killer game, I couldn't have been prouder. You'd think she was my own baby girl, not just my kid sister. They said I could have played for England, and maybe I could have, but not like her.

I know I'm only 9 years older then her, but I mean that always seemed like a lot growing up. I was starting to prepare for Hogwarts when she was born, Bill had already gone. I'd been out of Hogwarts for a few years by the time she was a first year.

I remember the day perfectly. Sunny and bright and beautiful. A summer at the Burrow 'cause we were all there. I had been working on the broom all morning, fixing the broken twigs and polishing the handle. Fred or George had stolen in from my room and ran it straight into an old oak the day before. But it was finally workable again.

I hadn't taken three steps out of the house when my four year old sister yelled at me to wait. She was a sight in patched robes that we all had worn at that age and her red hair chopped short around her ears. She had played barber with the twins in the spring, and still looked like scruffy urchin child with bandaged knees freckles all across her face.

"What Ginny? I want to go practice! I'm trying out for the team when I get back to Hogwarts."

"I wanna fly." She stated assuredly. She was confident that if she wanted it she'd get it.

"No, Ginny! Go back inside."

"I WANNA FLY!" She shouted. She could be a brat when she wanted to. Spoiled rotten, I swear.

"What is all of this shouting?" Mum had come flapping to the door, glaring at me. Of course I was to blame for upsetting the baby.

"She want to go on the broomstick! I said no."

"I WANNA FLY!"

"Well of course, that's silly. Why don't you play with your toy broomstick, Ginevra dear?"
"I WANNA FLY LIKE CHARLIE!" She screamed. I don't know how a four year old could make such noise. All I wanted to do was get out and practice. I had no time for my four year old sister.

But of course, with much yelling and tears Ginny got her way. Mom relented and told me to take her for a quick and low flying spin on the broomstick. I remember letting out such a groan.

Her tears dried up quickly as she rushed to my side with an excited grin on her face.

"Charles Weasley," Mom's voice was deadly serious. "You be careful with that girl. If she comes back with any sort of bruise or cut. You will be answerable for it."

I didn't even want to do this. Of course, I'd be the one to get in trouble if something happened.

"Come on, Ginny." I groaned and she crawled onto the broom so she was practically sitting on my lap. It wouldn't be hard. My arms holding on to the broom would practically cage her in. She wouldn't get hurt.

I remember the smile she gave me then. Her brown eyes bright with excitement and her toes twitching with nerves. She was a sweet faced thing even then and my teenage angst at having to associate with my sister was quickly dissipating.

It was gone by the time I left the ground. She had squealed with delight and I could feel how she was squirming with excitement. I couldn't remember my first time on a broomstick, but I hoped I was as happy as Ginny was then.

I swooped and cruised with her around the fields and hill for hours. Delighting in her giggles and the wind in my hair. The entire time I told stories of famous Quidditch players and my dreams of being Captain of the Chudley Cannons and turning around their losing streak.

When we finally landed she toppled to the grass with one last gasping giggle.

"You going to be a an amazing Quidditch player one day, Gin?" I laughed at the happy child.

"YES!" She crowed and leaped into my arms. Planting a wet kiss on my cheek she crinkled those shining brown eyes and said, "I love you Charlie!"

It was all the thanks I was going to get, and it was worth it. I'm turning as sappy as Bill, aren't I? Even when I looked up to see Mom with her arms on her hips and her mouth pursed, I knew it was worth it.

I saw Gin this morning, before she had gone through any pampering. She had a letter in her hand and wore a shabby old robe. With her flaming hair toppled up in a messy bun, she was my sister. Not just a bride on her wedding day. It was like any other morning. She gave me a kiss on the cheek then after I'd cheekily got her laughing once more. It wasn't sloppy and wet this time though. She'd come along way from the spoiled brat of a sister I once had. I'm glad I could see the transformation.

She's beautiful, that sister of mine. Even before she went through any cleaning and preening process. It's those brown eyes I've always loved. And the freckles dancing across her nose. Luckily she doesn't have as much as me. Harry's a lucky man. He knows it too. I'm glad to be welcoming him to the family.