January 7, 2004
Disclaimer: Surely you don't think any of this is really mine?
A/N: Hey all! Sorry it took me awhile to get this to you (and that it's kinda short) but I never really thought I would get more than a few reviews for this, thus I didn't think of where to take this, but over the last week the ideas have been flooding in, thus the delay and short chapter! But! I think I know what I'm doing now, so without any more ramblings, here's chapter 3!
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Fifteen minutes time finds me sitting on my freshly made bed frustratedly picking the lint off of the would-be-lapels of my jacket. Why I'm wearing a jacket is beyond me. It's late July. The women can all be seen in their best summer dresses walking their dogs around the park and the men and other boys have taken out their just-above-the-knee length jeans. People have been playing football everywhere and more than once I've had to fetch the neighbor boy's ball out of the backyard while Remus sleeps on the couch. But that was back when he could find ways to make up his lost sleep; lately, the vow of self-imposed insomnia holds us both, only for drastically different reasons. Perhaps it's just remnants of my dream that's making me cold. Perhaps I'm just nervous.
A knock on my door pulls me to me senses and I shiver slightly as I tap my foot on the ground.
"Are you ready, Harry?" Charlie Weasley asks me from the doorway. Surprised again that there's more people here than I knew of, I look pointedly at the bag atop my trunk and he seems to get the message. But instead of offering me a few more minutes as I had hoped, he slips all the way into my room to sit across from me on Remus' chair. He clears his throat before he speaks, but what he says resounds clear and strong.
"Are you upset about going to the hospital, Harry? Because it really isn't all that bad. Sure the food can't hold a five-year-olds wand light to Hogwarts', but as long as you remember to stay away from anything that has the words "surprise," or "mystery," in it, you should be fine." He paused. "On second thought, if you hear the name Mislovanich in relation to food, don't eat anything," he says with a bit of green tinge to his cheeks. "I think I found a cephalohydris' tentacle in my pancakes once from that woman," and I can't help but smile as he visibly shivers at the memory but he perks up right away. "I've been to a lot of hospitals in my line of work and none have ever been as horrendous as they are made out to be, except for maybe that one. You know that, don't you?"
I nod slowly; I still haven't made eye contact.
"That's not what's bothering you, is it?" he asks, perceptive as ever.
I shake my head.
"Can you tell me what is?"
I don't answer, but I find myself subconsciously looking at everything in my room that reminds me of him. Charlie doesn't catch it though; how could he?
I feel so stupid! I'm sixteen years old and I can't even tell somebody what's bothering me!
Unfortunately, Charlie takes my silence as a "no" and dejectedly decides it's best to politely excuse himself.
"I'll be back in about five minutes, give you a little more time to make sure you haven't forgotten anything," and he begins to close the door.
It's now or never…
"Charlie?" I ask, and he returns about midway through the door, but the words I want to say won't come out. Regrettably, all I can manage is "Thank you," before he smiles at me but he notices the frustrated look on my face and returns all the way into my room, sitting once again in front of me.
"You can tell me, Harry. I'm not Bill, I won't run to Mummy," he says in a perfectly serious fashion. His slander of his older brother is a complete fabrication though; neither of the eldest Weasleys would reveal a secret no matter how inane, even in death.
"He's really worried about you, you know," he says slowly, leaving room between all of his sentences, giving me time to think. "Mum doesn't want him to go with us today, in case you haven't heard. She's afraid that he's not strong enough to make it." And now it seems he's fighting a great battle within himself. To tell, or not to tell. "I don't think he'd want me to tell you this Harry, but he almost fell down the stairs no more than ten minutes ago, and he would have fallen too if Bill hadn't been up there talking to him because he caught him, you know. It's not really a surprise though, I guess, is it? You can tell it's because the moon is out tonight. In any case, Bill and I had to practically carry him down and he was still fighting with Mum when I came back this way."
I can't think of a single thing to say. When I heard Bill call for Charlie fifteen minutes ago, I assumed it was for something trivial like it always is. I can't believe what actually almost happened. My mind is reeling with information and my eyes blindly search the floor, desperately trying to make sense of it all.
"What were they fighting about?" I ask. It is the first sentence that I have said to anybody other than Remus in over three weeks. Charlie looks both ecstatic and relieved.
"Remus wants to go because he's promised you that he would, but Mum and the others are worried that if he does get there, they'll put him up in Mungo's too and then you'll be separated until one of you gets better. But then Remus maintains that none of us know you like he knows you," I nod, "and thinks that it will be beneficial for him to speak for both of you instead of one of us trying to and getting it all wrong." It's true. Logical Remus. He always thinks of everything. "Do you want him to come along? Or do you want him stay here?"
I hold up one finger. Option number one, please. "But, can I see your mum before we go?"
"Sure, Harry," he says, that makes two. "I'll go get her for you right now."
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Final note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys rule! Terence, Wiccan PussyKat, ParanoiaIn2005, Kate, Rubberduckie713, jaycee, and cb! It's always a pleasure!