Charlie was ready to go back to Hogwarts; he was ready to finish his studies; he was ready to finally win the Quidditch Cup! It had been nice being back at home for a couple of months, but it was certainly time to return to school. By the time September arrived, he knew his mother was looking forward to sending Charlie and a few of his siblings away. The Burrow had seemed to shrink, and it felt like there was too little house and too many people.
At King's Cross, everyone said their goodbyes to Mrs. Weasley—Ron, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley had stayed home because of the early start. They saw Lee and his family so Molly and the twins hurried over to say hello. Charlie found a compartment occupied by River, Arielle, and some other Seventh Years, he left his trunk with them, and went to meet with the Head Boy and Girl as well as the other twenty three prefects. He found himself scanning all the compartments he passed for Darcie, but his search was unsuccessful.
After the briefing, Charlie went back to see River and Arielle because, despite the history between them, they were still his friends. An hour or so into the journey, summer stories had bee exhausted (Charlie decided to omit the tales about Darcie) and they fell quiet. The peace was interrupted by a Sixth Year Ravenclaw prefect wearing a frown.
"Weasley, there's a disturbance a few compartments down. I think you're the one to handle it," he informed.
"My brothers?" He knew that was the most logical conclusion and the other boy nodded. "I'm on it."
"Good, I'm going back to my compartment—I almost won a huge pot of Bertie Bott's Beans," he intimated.
"Exploding Snap Poker? Don't worry, I won't tell," Charlie grinned and went to find Fred and George.
That was not a difficult task. After walking about a yard, Charlie heard a lot of noise. A voice that clearly belonged to one of his twin brothers rose above the din, he was telling jokes and they had amassed quite an audience. Luckily, Charlie's size and reputation were on his side and he pushed through the younger students to the inside of the compartment where a comical sight met his eyes: Fred and George were shouting jokes and doing slight of hand tricks while Lee was in stitches of laughter and Darcie sat watching with an odd, unreadable expression on her face.
"Charlie, our favourite prefect brother!" Fred crowed.
"Your only prefect brother," Charlie smirked.
"What brings you to our little piece of paradise?" George wondered.
"Your decibel," Charlie began. "You lot need to clear out because this place is too full, and you two need to take it down half a dozen notches. Move it along."
If he had been any other prefect, Charlie knew there would have been a fair amount of grumbling, but, again, both his stature and his status worked to his advantage. The twins appeared unperturbed by what was happening, Lee looked somewhat embarrassed, and Darcie was still indecipherable. Charlie sat down in the seat next to lee and stretched.
"You might consider keeping a lower profile. Or at least being better behaved. McGonagall likes the Quidditch team to be role models for the rest of the House," Charlie informed.
"Being well-behaved is overrated," George scoffed.
"So, by association, being on the Quidditch team is also overrated?" Darcie posed the question Charlie had been tempted to ask. "You needn't answer that—I was just curious."
Fred and George were momentarily stunned into silence by the question they considered unfair. Charlie was secretly glad he had been saved from having to ask the query that would probably have reflected badly on Gryffindor's Quidditch captain. Darcie had turned to watch the countryside pass.
"All right, Darcie?" Charlie smiled at her. "I see you aren't comatose today."
"No—I was resuscitated in time to catch the train today," she quipped. "How are you, Charlie?"
"Tired. We had an early morning. At least some of us did," Charlie shot an exasperated look at his younger brothers who feigned innocence.
"Our alarm clock didn't go off!" Fred repeated what they had claimed earlier that day.
"You still shouldn't have left your packing until this morning," Charlie pointed out and Lee and Darcie laughed.
"Come off it, we all know Mum loves showing off her abilities with a packing spell," George also laughed. "Where have you been hiding up 'til now, Charlie?"
"I was sitting in a compartment with River and Arielle. Don't look at me like that! We can be friends in spite of everything… can't we?" What had seemed like a foregone conclusion half an hour ago seemed like a betrayal of trust for these kids. The boys looked outraged, but Darcie's face was blank.
"What about what she did to Darcie last year?" Fred demanded. "And he started dating your ex-girlfriend a little while after you dumped her."
"Darcie, what do you think?" George rounded on her.
"l think Charlie should be allowed to pick his own friends," she shook her head. "lf you're in her good books, Arielle can be sweet."
"Thank you, Darcie," he nodded at her.
It was probably best for him to go back to the compartment where his peers remained; the temperature in the current area was decidedly chilly. River greeted him with a big smile and began chatting about how much training he had been able to do over the summer. Charlie took to the topic with gusto and they discussed strategies for their team to try out in their matches. Oliver Wood knocked on the compartment door and Charlie and River resigned themselves to an hour and a quarter of listening to his intricate plans for the team. Charlie told (warned) River that Oliver would be the only contender for Gryffindor's Quidditch captaincy and River talked (lied) about how he was looking forward to seeing his great schemes put into action.
When they reached Hogsmeade Station, Arielle and River abandoned Charlie and his trunk so he decided to flag down the first person he knew to help him. That turned out to be Darcie who smiled at him and gave him a quizzical look which Charlie returned.
"Where's your trunk?" Charlie asked.
"Oliver is carrying it," she turned slightly pink. "He was walking by and saw me struggling so he offered to carry it for me. What are you doing?"
"River and Arielle took off and I need to see to my prefect duties, but I can't figure out what I'm going to do with my luggage," Charlie sighed.
"Let me take it. You know it'll be safe with me," she offered. "I didn't need Oliver's help—I was just trying to get a better grip on it. I told him and the boys that I would get us a carriage. We'll wait for you."
"Thanks, Darcie," he grinned and she picked up his trunk. "See you soon."
Charlie had offered to corral the First Years to Hagrid because he was deemed the notable to do it with the least amount of hassle—once again his build was cited. It also happened to be the simplest duty because the First Years were always too awed and nervous to make much of a fuss. His task completed, Charlie went to find Darcie, his trunk, and the awaiting carriage he had been promised. When he got to the horseless rig it looked like they had been waiting for quite sometime and, though he had finally arrived , no one looked particularly happy to see him. Lee looked like he was almost asleep, Fred and George were tossing leaves from the floor of the carriage onto the ground, Oliver was trying to engage Darcie in conversation, but her teeth were chattering. They rode to Hogwarts in silence punctuated by the sound of Darcie's chattering teeth.
The six students split up when they reached the Great Hall. Charlie went to sit with other Gryffindor Seventh Years and he lost track of the younger ones; no doubt all the boys followed Darcie to wherever she had decided to sit. It seemed like the First Years and Hagrid took longer than usual to reach the castle. Dumbledore welcomed the new students and the Sorting began. Charlie would swear that every year the First Years were smaller. Not just shorter, but tiny all over. When all the new children were placed into Houses, the food finally appeared.
"We are all fed and warm," Dumbledore stood up when everyone was finished. "The warmest of welcomes to all our newcomers. The new face at our table here belongs to Professor Crichton," he paused for scattered, half-hearted applause. "She will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the coming year. Timetables will be delivered to you at breakfast tomorrow morning. Mr. Filch has, once again, requested I remind the returning students and instruct the new students that he has a complete list of banned items, numbering approximately three hundred and fifty seven, available for review. Also, entering the Forbidden Forest is, indeed, forbidden. There will be more announcements in the coming days, but we have full stomachs and tired minds. And, so, to bed."
"Another Defence Against the Dark Arts professor," Darcie remarked to Charlie when they were alone in the common room that night around midnight. "What happened to Professor Nailor?"
"Hogwarts changes Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers like Snape changes his robes," Charlie explained. "I've never seen one stay longer than a year."
"Looking forward to getting your timetable tomorrow? How many classes will you be taking?" She inquired.
"Care of Magical Creatures, of course, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms," he counted. "That's five."
"Sounds like you're going to have some spare time on your hands."
"I'll be preparing for my NEWTs, thank you very much," he reminded. "Besides, you could have time off, too, if you weren't taking so many classes. You shouldn't be taking as many as you are. I remember a week or so when you were pretty frazzled."
"One week of the entire school year? That's hardly grounds to not go forward with my plans. If I'm going to take some of my OWLs next year, I need to be preparing as much as I can."
"You're taking OWLs next year? You'll only be in Fourth Year and you've gone ahead—no one wants to tackle those before they absolutely must," he warned.
"This way, though, I'm able to take more classes. I took two years of each course last year so I'm in Third Year; I'm taking two years of five classes this year and one year of four other courses; next year I'll take only one year of all courses which means I'll be prepared to take five OWLs; the following year I'll take one year of each course and do the rest of my OWLs; in Sixth Year I'll take some of my NEWTs; in Seventh Year I'll finish them."
"You haven't scheduled yourself much time for being a teenager. Five OWLs one year, four the next, then five NEWTs, and four the next. You'll have run yourself ragged by the time you leave Hogwarts," he prophesied. "But I suppose you've got everything planned so you can go straight into your dream occupation. What is it you want to be when you grow up, Darcie? A Healer?"
"I have no idea. Perhaps if I immerse myself in every area of studying, I can figure out where my passion lies," she shrugged.
"I think you're mad," he proclaimed. "Smart, but a little mad."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," she decided.
~:+:~
The first week of being back to school was the busiest week of Fred's life. None of the teachers appeared to want to ease back into things slowly. Professor Crichton especially seemed eager to prove she could keep up with the others and piled assignments on her students like it was going out of style . On top of the schoolwork, he was slightly anxious about Quidditch tryouts. Not that he would ever want to admit that aloud to anyone.
He, George, and Lee found classes a little odd without Darcie there to keep them focused and on point. She still sat with them at meals and did homework while they tried to do theirs, but it seemed like maybe too much had changed between them. She had, however, bequeathed her notes from the previous year them (after making them swear they would use them only for study purposes and never ever copy them. All three agreed because they feared the wrath they never saw but assumed lurked beneath her placid exterior.
"Ready for tryouts today, boys?" Darcie asked as they joined her at breakfast Saturday morning.
"Of course," Fred was grateful his voice did not betray just how nervous he was. He knew he and George would have to perform brilliantly in order to win spots on the team without it looking like Charlie was playing favourites by picking his brothers.
"You'll be coming to watch, right, Darcie?" George confirmed.
"I wouldn't miss it for all the gold in Gringott's," she promised. "Lee and l are going to take the best seats and watch the whole thing. I'll cheering you on the entire time."
"Not me," Lee shook his head. "I'm going to be laughing every time one of you gets hit in the face with a Bludger!"
"Thanks for that, mate," Fred thumped him on the back a little harder than he normally would have.
"He's just teasing," Darcie assured them.
"We're starting tryouts in fifteen, gentlemen," Charlie reminded his brothers as he left to prepare.
George stopped eating at that point and Fred only finished his breakfast because he knew he would need his energy to perform his best. Darcie rose from her seat and offered one hand to Fred and the other to George. The four of them headed out to the Quidditch pitch for the event that would determine a large part of the twins' remaining years at Hogwarts. Fred was feeling many things, but excitement was the prevailing emotion.
There were about a dozen students there to watch tryouts and another dozen or so who were actually there to be considered for the team. Charlie, River, Oliver, and the other remaining Chaser were all standing on the pitch in a line. Fred and George grabbed a school broom each and their friends went to secure positions in the stands.
"Hello," Charlie had clearly used a spell to make his voice louder. "If everyone here to show off their skills would separate into groups. Chasers to the left and Beaters to the right. Obviously the positions we have available are two Beaters and one Chaser. The people I assign will be those players who perform best overall and those who show the most commitment."
The Chasers went first—all but four of the people vying for the spots, including Fred and George, were there to be Chasers. Two were Second Years (Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet) and most of the others were Fifth Years. Everyone was surprised by the skill with which Angelina flew so no one was particularly taken aback when she was chosen for the third Chaser position.
"Okay, now we move on to the Beaters," Charlie decided. "I'll see you in pairs. Fred you'll be with Michaels. Please don't argue, George."
Fred was not impressed with Michaels' performance to put it mildly. The girl was probably trying out for the team just for the hell of it and her build was certainly not the typical physique for a Beater and one should not play against the Bludgers if one is afraid of balls. In Fred's opinion she would have made a better Seeker. The boy partnering George was doing better, but he dropped his club once and nearly knocked out Angelina who was flying below. Darcie was the ideal fan because she cheered and gasped in all the appropriate places and Lee seemed to get caught up in her excitement.
"That's enough!" Charlie hollered eventually. "Let's wrap it up. Fred, George, you're in and the first practice is next Tuesday after dinner. Everyone try to be on time."
"You two were fantastic!" Darcie grabbed the twins in a big hug. "No one could accuse Charlie of unfair judgement."
"No way!" Lee echoed' shaking hands with both of them. "Can you believe how well Angelina and Alicia flew? I had no idea."
"You guys should have heard the running commentary Lee was keeping," Darcie enthused. "You should talk to McGonagall about commentating every match."
"Yeah," George broke in, "that boring Ravenclaw who did it last year is gone."
"I suppose," Lee replied thoughtfully.
"I'll just have to watch Gryffindor games all alone," Darcie sighed dramatically.
"But you'll have the two of us for every other match," Fred put his arm around her shoulders. "And we'll get to share this wit of Lee's with the whole school."
"Hey, you two find a place the four of us can hang out. Fred and I are going to get some things for…celebrating," George winked at his brother and they headed for the kitchen for butter beer and cakes.
~:+:~
"Is it possible there is nepotism in the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" Charlie was brought out of his studying by Darcie's teasing voice.
It was almost one in the morning and they were, of course, the only ones in the common room. This evening was not the first they had together, but it was one of the first where the silence was not only interrupted by one or the other asking clarifying questions. She had moved over to the seat beside him.
"It's only nepotism if I put them on the team because they're my brothers. I put them on the team because they were the superior players—they just happen to be my brothers," Charlie grinned at her. "Are you questioning why your closest friends got what they wanted?"
"I just needed an ice breaker," she shrugged. "You made the right decision. Those other two were terrible! Poor Angelina could have received a concussion; or worse."
"She was a shocker, actually. River didn't make the team until Third Year and he was not as good as Angelina. I asked Alicia to be our reserve Chaser. Your Year has been hiding some gems. Maybe we should let First Years try out," Charlie joked.
"Ah, but perhaps the first year is a maturation chamber," she laughed.
"Wouldn't want to pick them before they're ripe," he rolled his eyes and shut his Transfiguration book. "So how are your dozen classes going?"
"Dozen plus two, and they're going fine. I don't think I'll ever take this many again. I have to say, though, Percy seems less fond of me now that I'm competing for the top spot in his classes."
"He'll get over it. I wouldn't let it bother you. You never told me how the rest of your holiday went. You seem like you got through it okay."
"It was fine. Quiet, but maybe that's a good thing. Time to decompress before being flung back into life with your brothers."
"You didn't write much," he observed. "I missed talking to you."
"I didn't have a whole lot to write," she confessed.
Charlie watched Darcie return to her History of Magic assignment and he got a little lost in his thoughts. He really had missed her once she left The Burrow, but he knew that was not something he should admit to anyone. At the moment, she was buried in her textbook and her glasses were slipping down her nose. She looked very pretty that evening with her hair tied back and a smile of comprehension playing on her lips. That was the last thought Charlie permitted himself to think.
"What are you looking at?" She stopped writing and looked at him.
"Sorry, l was just thinking," he shook his head to clear it.
"I cannot believe how much homework a professor who didn't even know he was dead and hardly realizes he has students can assign!" Darcie lamented.
"Two years and you can flunk your History of Magic OWL and drop it," he reminded her.
"Actually, I'm going to take the History of Magic OWL next year," she informed.
"You're joking! I didn't think about my OWLs until Bill was about to sit his. And that was only to be grateful mine weren't for years. You are in your second year of schooling—as a Third Year and you're talking about sitting some OWLs next year. You're mad! "Charlie was floored by what he was hearing.
"lf you insist on telling me I'm mental every time we discuss schoolwork, we're not talking about it anymore," she frowned.
"I'm sorry. Mea Culpa," he raised his hands in surrender. "For the record, l think even wanting to do what you're planning is very admirable. I offer you my services if there's anything I can do to be of assistance. You know where to find me. You also know there is nothing l would deny you."
"Thanks, Charlie," she smiled.
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Another chapter gone. I wasn't sure that I should put more into this one. I'd love to know what you think. ;)