No Such Place
Chapter Four: Suddenly
Last thing I remember I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
"Relax," said the nightman, "We are programmed to receive.
You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave."
-Eagles, Hotel California
*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Author's note: I realize this took forever, but believe me, I've been busy, as well as having writer's block several times. I doubt Chapter Five will take quite so long. Thanks to everyone who's still with me!
Prize: To anyone who finds the mistake that both Jennie and I missed... and then I rediscovered while revising. I never would have noticed it if not for English class.
*
For the habitually sleep-deprived, morning came all too soon. Charlie awoke early the next day, stiff and sore, but in a mildly satisfactory way. However, he soon found that the position he was in was more closely related to 'uncomfortable' than anything else.
For one thing, he was lying beside Kate. The night before it had been slightly different. Charlie was beginning to realize how narrow his sofa was, because he was about to fall off of it. Now, with Kate in almost precariously close vicinity, Charlie was beginning to wonder things that he felt he should not be wondering about his best friend. He was also beginning to feel things that he wondered if he should be feeling about his best friend. Who just happened to be female and suddenly very, very attractive. Hell. Charlie knew with sudden certainty that if he did not move, he really would fall off of the couch.
He had just repositioned himself so that the situation was slightly less dangerous when two subsequent shocks nullified his efforts. The first was Kate opening her eyes beside him.
The second was the appearance of Molly Weasley's head in his fireplace.
Charlie hit the ground with enough force to leave him bruised for weeks. He heard Kate giggling on the couch, trying very hard not to be heard. She would think this is funny.
"Charlie?" he heard his mother call. Kate was in muffled hysterics. "Are you there?"
He sat up, rubbing his head. Kate had buried her face in a pillow. He could see her body convulsing as she fought to control her laughter. "Here, Mum." Charlie made a mental note to get her back for this.
"Charlie!" his mother exclaimed. "What are you doing on the floor?"
"Practicing my yoga," he answered dryly. "What's up?"
"Just checking up on you, dear," Molly answered fondly. "I see you haven't managed to burn the place down yet."
This set Kate off again. The week previously, he had actually managed to make toast catch fire.
"Mum, I don't need a baby-sitter." Although, hiring a chef was something he could look into. And speaking of baby-sitters… he glanced up at Kate. He still had to ask her about (he swallowed hard just thinking about it) her plans for Valentine's day.
"Of course not, dear." And apparently her mind had made the short leap to her next favorite topic. "Have you got a girlfriend yet?"
"Mum!" Charlie exclaimed, aghast. Leave it to Molly to bring up romance in the middle of a war. A nagging little voice said something about Charlie's thoughts about Kate a few minutes previously; he ignored it. "No."
He caught the mischievous glint in Molly's eyes that Ginny sometimes got when she was teasing. "Right. Whose feet are those, then?"
Charlie followed her gaze to the end of the couch, over which hung a pair of small, dark-skinned feet. "Kate's," he answered. Both women were laughing openly now. "Or maybe Satan's."
Kate sat up, wiping sleep from her eyes, still chuckling. "We could stop making fun of you if you would just go out and get a social life."
A reluctant smile tugged at Charlie's lips. The perfect opportunity had just fallen into his lap. He would have found it even more ironic if he hadn't felt so apprehensive all of a sudden. This is ridiculous, he thought to himself. It's just Kate. "You're one to talk. When's the last time you went out?"
"Too long ago," Kate admitted with a sigh. "I'm just as bad as you. Are you happy now?"
Molly, Charlie noted curiously, was being strangely quiet and not attempting to rectify this situation in the most mutually acceptable way possible. "Not really," he answered. Am I about to ask my best friend out on a date in front of my mother? No, no, it's not a date. It's not. "Hey, speaking of social lives…"
The expression on Kate's face was priceless. It read, 'Uh-oh.' "What about them?"
He wondered momentarily how to phrase his next question. "Have plans for Valentine's day yet?"
"What?" she looked at him like he had suddenly said he was related to Lucius Malfoy. "Why, should I?"
Molly cleared her throat. Apparently she had a problem with Charlie asking his best friend on a date in her presence, too. It's not a date! Charlie's more rational side insisted. "Am I interrupting something, dears?"
Charlie resisted the urge to groan out loud. It was no wonder he shut out his mother sometimes, he thought to himself. She could be so nosy. "Mum, there was a prowler on Kate's property last night. I didn't think it would be a particularly good idea to let her stay there until I'd had the matter looked into."
He was promptly walloped over the head with a throw pillow. "He makes it sound as if I was completely helpless!" Kate complained, sighing and turning to Charlie's mum. "It was nothing, Molly, really. Charlie effectively nipped the problem in the bud."
Molly still looked wide-eyed. "Are you sure you're alright, dear? It could have been anyone- you ought to be more careful! Charlie, maybe you should keep a closer eye on her-"
Deciding that laughing aloud at the irony would only get him into trouble with both women, he interrupted, "Done, Mum." Kate rolled her eyes. "Anyway, was there something you wanted to talk about? We have to get in to the Ministry to make a statement." His companion made another face. Charlie knew exactly how she felt.
"Just making sure you're going to drop by for dinner tonight," his mother answered affectionately.
Charlie nodded, privately dreading the event. Someone was sure to commit the minor infraction of inquiring about his personal life. It would probably be Molly. "I'll be there," he replied cheerfully, wondering why he was in such a dour mood.
"All right," she said, beaming at him. Then her eyes darted to Kate. "Seven sharp. Bring Kate with you, if you like. And mind you don't forget now, dear."
"I won't," Charlie promised. His mother vanished from his fireplace. Kate was staring at him. "What?"
She shook herself, as if waking from a trance. "The rapid attitude shift just hit full force, that's all." She was quiet for a second, then started giggling again.
"Oh, stuff it," he pleaded, trying vainly to withhold what he wasn't sure was a pout or a grin. "It wasn't that funny."
"Yes it was," Kate said helplessly, breaking out again into full-out laughter and burying her face in the sofa, beating it with her fists. After some time, she looked up, having composed herself. "Sorry."
"I'll bet you are," he said bitingly, but the grin escaped. "Alright, alright, it was pretty funny."
"Told you so."
"Anyway, you never answered my question," Charlie said, hoping to change the subject. He prayed that Kate wouldn't read any more into it than he himself wanted to.
"Question?" An expression of confusion crossed her face. "Oh! About Valentine's day."
"Yeah. So do you have plans?" It's just because I didn't want to spend the day babysitting, Charlie told himself. While he wouldn't really have minded this, spending time with Kate was definitely preferable. Besides, he didn't want to get caught in a lie…
"'Course not," she replied, stifling a yawn. "I just told you, no social life whatsoever. Why, Charlie? Were you going to ask me out?"
Her teasing tone and impish grin wounded him; involuntarily, he flinched. "Well, the fact of the matter is that I don't have anything to do, either," he said defensively. "And I'd much rather spend the holiday with you than home by myself eating Feel-Good Fizzbees."
Kate gave him an evaluating stare before nodding. "Sure." Somehow he hadn't expected her to consent so readily. "Meet me at my place at seven."
He wondered, minutes after she left, if he knew what he was getting himself into.
*
"Kate? Damn!" Charlie stumbled out of the fireplace, smacking his head on the mantel for the nth time since Kate had moved into the little cottage. "We've got to go- somebody's waiting to take our statements."
He thought he heard a noise of disgust from the vicinity of the kitchen table. He turned toward the sound and tried very hard to contain himself. Kate was sitting at her kitchen table, evidently eating a late lunch. Beside her sat none other than Oliver Wood.
Charlie wondered if the other man were smirking at him. "Hello, Oliver," he said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Kate evidently saw a situation that needed to be defused. "Yes, well, I didn't expect him to be here- he was in Hogsmeade and just dropped by unexpectedly. Oliver, I'm sorry I didn't tell you-"
"Did something happen?" interrupted Oliver in a concerned voice that made Charlie want to punch something. The dominating thought in his brain seemed to be, 'she's my friend.' This was irrational, he knew, as there was no reason Kate couldn't be friends with both of them. He put the momentary jealousy down to lack of sleep and extreme stress. "You never said anything," he said in an almost whine. It made Charlie feel sick to his stomach.
"Relax," Charlie said before Kate could defend herself. "I took care of it."
Instead, she made a noise of exasperation. "Oh, really. As if I couldn't take care of myself!"
"We're just concerned," pointed out Oliver.
Though it was true, Charlie resented the fact that Oliver was standing up for him. It only annoyed him further that he was absolutely right. "Right. Now, can we go before I have to face the wrath of the General again?"
Kate rolled her eyes, but got up from the table. "Fine, but you owe me lunch," she said with the hint of a grin.
"I already owe you lunch. I think. Or did you collect on that already?"
She shrugged. "If you've lost track, I have. Are we ready?"
"I think so."
Kate turned to her guest. "Bye, Oliver. I guess you can let yourself out by now." The way she smiled at him- or rather just the fact that she was smiling at him- caused Charlie's fists to clench quite involuntarily. Again, he fought back the jealous impulse. This was ridiculous. He decided that he would have to kill his brother. Maybe then he would stop noticing things like this.
He steered Kate towards the fireplace and tossed in a pinch of Floo powder. "The Mud Pit!" For security reasons, the Floo callsign of the Ministry of Magic changed constantly. A person who needed to Floo in was given a location that would only work once and only on a certain day. Needless to say, there was a security check the moment they stepped out the fireplace on the other end.
Once that relatively mild intrusion on their personal space was over with, they were in the Magical Law Enforcement corridor.
"What exactly am I supposed to tell this guy?" Kate said with something of a yawn. Charlie wondered if she hadn't slept so well the previous night, either. For some reason he felt oddly guilty.
"Whatever he asks you," he answered, his mind responding to the suggestive powers of her yawn as well. He reached the door and held a passkey in front of it, which disappeared in a puff of smoke when the door opened. "After you."
*
"I'm guessing that's how you hurt your hand," General Antilles observed dryly. "Following the no-magic in close quarters protocol, I suppose." He looked at Kate, as if realizing exactly what he had just said and what he might have given away. "Am I incorrect in assuming…"
Kate looked at Charlie, confusion written all over her face. Charlie winced. Would he have to tell her after all? Would she piece everything together? He held his breath, then exhaled resignedly. "She doesn't know, sir. I thought it would put her in unnecessary danger."
The General raised an eyebrow. "Frankly, Charlie, anyone you associate with is in danger. Especially you, Miss Beard." He tapped his fingertips together, then picked up his quill and began to write. "I want you to go see the Professor," he said, tearing off a sheet of notepaper and handing it to him. "Bring her with you. I don't want to take any chances."
Charlie didn't know whether to be relieved or upset. If Kate was in this much danger, maybe he should just-
Before he could open his mouth to speak, the General interrupted gently, "It's too late for that, Charlie. Go see the Professor."
Charlie dropped his gaze to the floor. It was not the first time the General had read him like that, and he doubted it would be the last. It was an uncanny ability, and one Charlie wished that he possessed. "All right." He looked exasperatedly at Kate, who still seemed to be trying to figure out what exactly it was the General had almost given away. "Let's go. Thank you, sir."
The older man merely nodded, and Charlie could feel his gaze burning into his back as they left.
When the door closed, Kate turned on him. "Alright, what is it that General Antilles assumed I'd know? And why did he assume it? Why isn't he right?" She crossed her arms and looked up at him expectantly.
Charlie sighed. It was probably only a matter of time before she pieced things together by herself anyway, but the longer she was kept in the dark, the better. "You might as well know, I suppose." He ran a hand through his hair. "The General is a very intelligent man, and I don't doubt that he gave that particular bit of information away on purpose. Yeah, I work for the Ministry's armed forces. I can't be any more specific than that here- it's too open." Hoping that would satisfy her curiosity, he kept walking.
Unfortunately, Kate knew him far too well. Apparently she had guessed that the reason he had given up that information so easily was so that he wouldn't have to explain the rest. "And Antilles just assumed that I'd know what he was talking about because…"
"It's a long story," he stalled, hoping to evade answering entirely.
"We've got time," Kate pointed out. "After all, we've got to go to the EPD Wing. That's practically the other side of the Ministry."
Charlie stopped again, pounded his fist three times against a blank section of wall, and smiled slightly as a panel slid aside. "Not if you know what I know." He allowed her to slip through, then followed her in. They stepped out at one end of the vast Experimental Potions Development Wing.
"Slick," she noted, brushing a cobweb from the sleeve of her robes. "But don't think you're going to get out of answering."
He cursed inwardly. "Fine." She regarded him impassively as they stepped onto a moving pathway. "But you're not going to like it." Her expression read exactly the same as it had moments before. "They think you're my…" He squirmed. Why was this so difficult? "Mistress."
Kate watched him for a moment more without twitching, then burst into laughter. "They do, do they? That's quite a ways off base. Do they think I train pigs to fly, as well?"
Charlie crossed his arms, wondering how he had gone from cautious and embarrassed to defensive so quickly. "I told you it was ridiculous."
Her mirth subsiding, Kate wiped a tear from her eye. "You're going to have to introduce me to some of your working buddies."
"As my lover?" he said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice. This is all Bill's fault. Then again, if it hadn't been for Bill, that prowler might have actually gotten into Kate's cottage, and that was certainly not desirable.
He regretted his tone almost instantly as Kate looked up at him with a contemplative expression. She said nothing, however, until the floor carried them to the correct laboratory. Then, before he could wave General Antilles' note before the Magi-Sealed door to gain entrance, she spoke so softly that he almost thought he'd imagined it. "Sorry, Charlie." Inexplicably, her hand found its way into his own and gave a soft squeeze, then was mysteriously gone, leaving him more confused than he had been the moment before.
The door slid aside and the two of them walked in. "What do you want?" an oily and very familiar voice demanded.
"Hello to you too, Severus," Kate replied with a miniscule shake of her head. She exchanged a knowing glance with Charlie. "Aren't you going to invite us in?"
"It would seem a bit late for that," he replied dryly, stepping out from behind a series of beakers and test tubes, some bubbling, some smoking, some slowly changing colour. "What brings you here, Miss Beard?"
"Him," she replied, jerking her thumb in Charlie's direction. "His boss sent us here, actually."
Charlie stepped forward reluctantly. That he and Severus Snape failed to get along was the understatement of the century. He handed the Potions master the note from General Antilles. He had to admit that he was in awe of the man- how he managed to be absent from Hogwarts, fulfill his duties as Headmaster, and still have time to create and modify valuable potions was beyond his comprehension. Although he'd sooner bite his tongue off than tell Snape that. "We need the vaccine. Is it finished?"
Snape's eyes drifted over to Kate. Charlie stiffened; it was very trying that Kate somehow managed to make friends with people he disliked. Or maybe they liked to make friends with her. Either way, he wasn't sure he was comfortable with it, especially given Snape's… friendliness… with other women that had been a part of his life. "Hasn't she already been exposed?"
Charlie nodded, feeling guilty. "I was too late last time."
Hogwarts' new Headmaster sighed and grasped an unlabeled vial from a table. "I'll need to test that note, Weasley."
"Be my guest."
Snape inserted the note into the vial and watched as the once-clear liquid turned green, then back to its waterlike state. He sighed. "That seems to be in order, then. Follow me."
The back of the Potions Lab resembled something between a maze and catacombs. The uneven floor was fashioned from limestone, worn in places from millennia of chemical spills and dedicated craftsmanship. The marble tabletops were pockmarked and rough, placed illogically around the laboratory. Snape finally stopped near the far wall, banged his fist down on the nearest table, and then descended a series of stairs that appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
Downstairs was another story entirely. Where the original worn limestone had been, there was now smooth obsidian. The sole table, huge as it was, stood in the middle of the room and was not any substance that Charlie could recognize. An incredibly complex series of tubes, wires, fires, cauldrons and timers sat upon it. Reluctantly, Charlie acknowledged that the Professor was probably the world's most accomplished Potions master.
Snape strode purposefully to the table and retrieved a small flask. "Weasley."
Understanding that he was being summoned and that the subject matter was not for Kate to overhear, Charlie went to stand beside him. "Well?"
"If she takes the potion," said the Professor seriously, "her ability to use magic will be significantly, though temporarily, reduced. It's a reaction that happens because she has already been exposed. Before I administer this, I want your solemn promise not to let her out of your sight for two days. It's too dangerous."
Charlie rolled his eyes. "What, like it was too dangerous for me to be seen anywhere near Chloë these past two years? I guess Kate's not good enough for you. Don't worry about it- I'll take care of her."
Looking pained, Severus nodded. "Fine. Miss Beard, drink this, please."
She looked at them curiously, but took a sip without any real hesitation, then began coughing. Kate gave the flask back to Snape, who passed it in turn to Charlie. "That should be sufficient."
Shrugging, Charlie tipped it back and downed the rest of the contents. It burned a little like Firewhiskey going down, but generally wasn't too terrible. The next few minutes passed in something of a blur, ending with Snape handing Charlie a list of possible side effects and gracefully showing them the door.
"Hungry?" Charlie asked, hearing his stomach grumble.
Kate nodded and pulled out her wand. "Where to?"
He winced inwardly. He had hoped that he could keep her from killing him for a little while longer. "You know what? Let's walk."
Unfortunately, Kate didn't fall for it. "It's February," she said firmly. "What's wrong with you, and why haven't you told me?"
"Wrong?" Charlie feigned innocence. "There's nothing wrong with me…"
Kate crossed her arms and gave him the look that meant she knew he was hiding something.
Unhappily, he gave in. "Fine. There really isn't anything wrong with me. The truth is I've already had to test two of these vaccines, this one's actually supposed to work, and none of them have affected me other than the odd twitch here or there. But that's because I haven't actually had the Dormius virus."
She paled noticeably. When she spoke, her voice was soft but firm. "And for those who have been exposed?"
"No magic," Charlie said bluntly. "Two days."
Her mouth dropped open. "And you didn't tell me? Charlie, how could you?"
"In case you didn't notice, your pal Severus didn't tell you, either!" he said defensively. "And you needed the vaccine- admit it, Kate. You haven't slept properly in days- I remember the way you were tossing last night. You forgot I was coming over to take you to the Ministry this morning. You can't tell me it hasn't been affecting you!"
Kate grumbled unhappily. "If we were in the Muggle world, I'd be suing for malpractice."
"Only if you were greedy," Charlie hypothesized. "Fly you to a late lunch?"
*
The Glass Slipper opened at three, but although it was past that hour it was not yet busy. Charlie and Kate, who were starving, found a table near the waterfall on the first floor. "Do all of you mysterious Ministry people come here regularly?" Kate asked curiously, her gaze fixed on the waterfall.
"Only in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he said, then elaborated, "Our favorite pub is downstairs."
She grinned. "That explains it. So you work for the DMLE?"
Charlie paused for a moment, wondering how much to tell her. He decided that he might as well just tell her everything. After all, he was fairly sure he was already putting her in a great deal of danger. She might as well know why. "Part of it, although technically we're under the jurisdiction of the Unspeakables. I guess you understand that I can't really tell you anything more about them."
Kate nodded interestedly. "What exactly do you do?"
"I work with a group of Aurors with special skills. We work a lot with pygmy dragons, most of us are broomstick experts, and none of us liked our previous jobs."
"You're making up the bit about the dragons," she guessed, eyes twinkling. "Nobody at the Ministry is that crazy."
Charlie laughed. "You met General Antilles, right?" He decided not to point out that Kate also worked at the Ministry.
The waitress cut into their conversation then, forcing them to pursue another venue which didn't include disclosing military secrets. They spent a good part of the evening dining upstairs, but both agreed that the pub in the basement was far more entertaining.
"Charlie, my head hurtsh." Kate stood up, pressed her palm to her forehead, wobbled, and sat back down on her stool again. "My bum hurts, too."
He chuckled. When he had noticed how much the alcohol Kate had consumed seemed to be affecting her, he had decided that he was the designated non-drinker. "Lightweight. Want to go home?" Actually, it was rather late, and he was not relishing the thought of waking up when a new day dawned. It would probably, Charlie reasoned, be much worse for Kate, because she would almost certainly have an excruciating hangover in the morning.
"Yesh," Kate slurred, stumbling to her feet again. "Do we have to… you know… broom thing?"
"Fly?" Charlie supplied. "No. I have a Portkey, if you think you can handle that."
She groaned. "The only thing I feel like handling right now is-" a hiccup swallowed the rest of her sentence, and she didn't repeat whatever it was she had meant to say.
"Come here," Charlie instructed, leaving the correct amount of gold on the bar. He wrapped an arm around Kate's waist and reached into the pocket of his robe. Guess I'll get the broom in the morning. "Ready?"
With a stomach-churning lurch the throbbing pub was replaced with Charlie's well-used living room. "Jesush Chrisht," Kate swore, clinging onto Charlie's arm. He used both of his to steady her. "That was a wild ride."
"Sorry," he apologized. "I should have warned you. Do you want some aspartame, or something? They're a Muggle remedy for headaches."
Kate looked up at him, seemingly finding her balance and some semblance of sobriety at the same time. "I don't have a headache."
"But didn't you just say-"
She leaned in closer and lowered her voice as well as her eyes. "Do you?"
Charlie's mind had barely registered its shock that Kate was about to kiss him when her lips touched his. His pulse raced, his hair stood on end, his blood sang in his ears; Kate's mouth opened under his and he found himself in the very awkward position of a man who has just realized what he wants and that he can have it- but also that he should not take advantage of his situation. The bittersweet taste of alcohol reminded him that Kate was not in control of her own actions; his heart thumped out several warnings- she's drunk, she'll kill you, back off- but he couldn't listen. Control and restraint both suddenly seemed very overrated. Maybe this, Charlie reasoned, was the push they needed in order to become more than best friends.
So they continued kissing, and after a moment Kate's blouse found its way to the floor, and Charlie's hands began to explore the soft, creamy skin that had been hidden beneath it-
Until Kate went completely limp in Charlie's arms. Charlie sighed resignedly and put his arm under her knees and carried her to his bedroom, vowing never again to allow Kate to drink so much. Carefully, so as not to disturb her (unlikely as this was), he pulled off her shoes and tucked his comforter around her. As an afterthought, he retrieved her blouse from the living room and laid it on the end of the bed, then placed a large empty bowl beside the bed as a precaution.
Is this some sort of sign? Charlie wondered, troubled, gazing at the woman asleep in his bed. He had already put her in incredible danger. The reason she had been attacked so often was because she was associated with him, he was sure of it. And yet, indirectly, it was this danger that had brought her to his arms and to his bedroom.
Well, whatever happened, standing here and philosophizing was not getting him anywhere. Charlie wandered off to his sofa in search of sleep and peace of mind.
*
There were several things on Charlie's mind the following morning, but issues having to do with Kate were being forced, much against their will, to the back of his mind. However, this did not mean that he was not making coffee, closing blinds and finding aspirin in anticipation of her hangover. It just meant that he wasn't thinking about doing it. In actuality, he was devoting ninety percent of his attention to the Muggle newspaper in front of him. The other ten percent was mutinying by monitoring sounds coming from his bedroom without his consent.
That ten percent increased tenfold when it heard a muffled voice from the bedroom say something that sounded suspiciously like, "Merlin's testicles!"
Charlie endeavored not to smile and succeeded, to some extent. He waited a moment while the curse was followed by an indefinite groaning and the flopping of an aching and exhausted body back into the warm cocoon from whence it came. Only then did he deem it safe to enter, which he did, armed with black coffee and painkillers, but disarmed by the fact that he could not forget or even stop thinking about the events of the previous night.
"Kate?"
She groaned again. "I feel like a manticore shat on my head." Generally the sensation of being really damn hung over would not be compared to having one's head shat on, but then, those who didn't find this an apt simile had never experienced manticore droppings. They were so potent that they were not merely seen or smelled, they were felt. They were heard miles away. They burned like acid. And that was if you were lucky.
"I doubt you consumed quite that much alcohol. But the sensation is normal. Really, I thought you'd hold your alcohol better." He handed her the coffee mug with a cheery grin. "Painkillers for your thoughts?"
"I'll take two." Kate downed both aspirin and half the cup of coffee in one gulp, then clutched at her head with her other hand. "I'm sorry, Charlie."
"Sorry?" The vague notion that he might have to panic niggled in the back of Charlie's mind. "What for?"
Kate gestured around her, unconsciously exposing most of the red bra she was wearing as Charlie's blankets slipped down from around her shoulders. "For this. For being so bloody drunk you had to take care of me. Was I much trouble?"
So. She didn't remember anything, then. Charlie didn't know whether to be relieved or hurt and settled for a combination of the two. Realizing she expected a reply of some sort, he relied upon sarcasm and hoped she wouldn't pick up on his mood change. "Well, no. There was one incident at the pub where you kept hitting on some mysterious stranger, but I wouldn't let you take advantage of him. You were quite cross at the time, as I remember. I think you called me a malformed, feather-brained griffin on laxatives, but I'm not really sure."
"Oh," she answered, seemingly satisfied, and finished the rest of her coffee. Charlie took the mug from her carefully and she lie back against the pillows again. Parts of her bra were still exposed, but she apparently hadn't noticed yet. She looked good in his bed, his treacherous mind noted. "Well, thank you just the same."
"It's not a problem," Charlie said, suddenly feeling the urge to claim that he would take care of her whenever she was drunk, just as long as she didn't get quite so drunk as she had the night before. "Er- I should go… have to buy groceries… before the shops close, you know…"
Kate nodded, then stopped, winced, and held her head very still against the pillow.
"Um," said Charlie articulately. "You just… stay here… and I'll be back with something for breakfast…" Most likely cereal, he decided. He was somewhat lacking in the culinary talent department.
"Bye, Charlie," came the pained farewell from the bed. Then, just after he had turned to walk to the door, the tone over her voice changed and the inflection turned very sober and extremely curious, the exact combination Charlie had been dreading. "Charlie…"
He had to turn to face her again.
"When I was drunk… I mean, I didn't… we didn't…" Kate bit her lip. She seemed, for once, at a loss for words. "I didn't? Try anything? I mean… with you? Did I? Uh… did we…?"
For once, Charlie actually wanted to blush. But he couldn't. And he had to lie. "No," he said, keeping his expression completely sincere and devoid of all emotion. "No, you didn't. We didn't. Nothing happened. At all. We're best friends. We would never do that. It would ruin us." He wondered if he was convincing Kate. He sure as hell wasn't convincing himself. Without another word, he turned and walked out.
"Oh," said Kate to the empty apartment. "That's what I was afraid of."
*
Charlie closed the door behind him and leaned against it. There was no denying it now- he loved her. He'd kissed her, and that hadn't been the end of it. Or had she kissed him? Did it make that much of a difference? Probably not, he decided. He had invited her to dinner and got her rather drunk. He helped her, as he always had and probably always would. And he had lied to her to protect her feelings. He simply wasn't too sure that he had been convincing. Hell, he wasn't even sure he had spared her feelings.
There was an owl waiting on the kitchen table. Charlie recognized it immediately- it was Hermes. He unfurled the letter and began to read.
Charlie,
You forgot about dinner, didn't you? Your mother is very upset and quite worried. A man your age ought to be more responsible! You are all right, aren't you? Nothing has happened? Your mother expects an apology and an explanation toot sweet.
Your father
Charlie swore. Arthur rarely wrote owls to his children, and when he did they were usually somewhat longer and interspersed with random bits of information about Muggle technology. He certainly didn't usually sign them 'your father.' He was obviously somewhat angry.
To tell the truth, Charlie had completely forgotten about dinner. At seven he'd been in the pub below The Glass Slipper with Kate, watching amusedly as she drank herself into oblivion. He wondered if this qualified as another 'Kate crisis' to be explained as such to his mother, but dismissed the notion. He could come up with something closer to the truth which would be more likely to pass the inspection. Anyway, Kate shouldn't be misused as an excuse.
He sighed, grabbed his keys and wand, and headed for the door. Before he could get there, the bedroom spoke. "Oh," it said. "That's what I was afraid of."
Charlie paused. What did that mean? What was it he had last said? Something about their friendship? That they hadn't had any inappropriate relations? He wasn't sure anymore, which was a huge inconvenience. Then again, whatever it was didn't necessarily relate to what it was that Kate was saying…
Anyway, he had things to do, other crises to worry about. He had to apologize to his mother, for one. And retrieve his broom. And above all, he thought as his stomach growled, find some breakfast. He locked the door on his way out.
*
"Christ, Charlie," commented Riley when Charlie dragged himself into work the next day. He'd been unable to sleep the night before- his mind had been too occupied analyzing and reanalyzing anything and everything he and Kate had ever said and done. He was quite sure he would never look at himself the same way again. "You look like hell. Rough weekend?"
"Um," said Charlie. After a weekend with Kate it was difficult to slip back into manspeak. "You might say that." He ran his hands back through his hair and set his head down on the table, only barely noticing the somewhat cold looks he was receiving from the team's golden boy.
"Well, I hope you're happy," Oliver said stiffly. Charlie wondered who had pissed in Oliver's porridge that morning.
Riley cleared his throat, presumably to alleviate tension. "Right. Anyway, boys, Antilles tells me they have finally developed a workable vaccine, so good work with that formula." He pulled open a drawer and tossed a thick file onto the desktop. "Next order of business-" he flipped it open. Charlie's eyes blurred at the amount of text. "Files on every suspected Death Eater and their families. We want to find the link between the Dark Side and the Elves now, before it escalates into a bigger problem. Basically that means we all get to study a lot of family trees." Charlie grimaced.
"Last thing for today," Riley said, looking at his watch, "is damage control."
Maybe the day wouldn't be a total loss after all. 'Damage control' was the Unspeakable slang for 'play nasty buggers and spy on Ministry workers.' Because they were Unspeakables and also highly trained in the arts of using Invisibility Charms, it was hard for security leaks to know they were being watched, tested, and evaluated constantly. Big Brother was always watching. And Charlie had five younger siblings. He was glad he was one of the three senior officers- the other four members of the Squad had to be on duty in case of an attack. Personally, he thought he was probably better use in the field, but there was no telling what sensitive information was being leaked at any time, so he was willing to do his part. If that included snitching doughnuts whenever convenient, well, so be it.
*
"I'm sorry, Mum," Charlie asserted for the umpteenth time. "Really! I didn't mean to worry you. You remember the incident I told you about; we had to go to the Ministry and give statements and then we had both skipped lunch-" Seeing the alarmed look on her face, he explained, "It was no big deal, Mum, really. I took care of it."
Percy chose that moment to bustle in importantly, a file folder open in his arms. He glanced up momentarily, made a noise that could have been a slight hint of contempt, and strode out again, calling to Arthur about something important he'd found within it.
"Took care of it!" his mother exclaimed. Then she sighed and sank down into a chair. "I forget sometimes that you're grown up now and can manage your own life. But you really could include us a little more, Charlie. Don't get me wrong, I love Kate like a daughter," here Charlie had to refrain from both groaning and blushing, "although you could bring her to dinner more, but even though we're only blood relatives and not soul mates, we're your family, too."
It was probably pointless to explain that he and Kate were not romantically involved, because to tell the truth, he wasn't sure anymore that they weren't. "Of course, Mum."
"Good. I expect you Sunday- day after Valentine's day. Don't be late," a warning gleamed in her eyes and Charlie realized that his mother was every bit as intimidating as she had been two decades ago. "And mind you bring Kate with you."
Right, he thought. Of course, Mum.
*
"Tell me again what we're looking for?" Kate said from the base of the ladder Charlie was perched on.
"Elf Genealogy," Charlie grunted, heaving a huge tome off of a shelf and passing it down, "Elven Magic, Uses of. Elfish Medicine. Adaptations of Anciente Magick for Modern Wizardrie. A Modern Encyclopedia on How to Alter Really Old Spells- well, this one's in the wrong place, but it sounds useful. Elven Texts Through the Ages. The Elf and the Uni-" Charlie stopped himself. "Maybe we can do without that one." Below him, he heard Kate snicker. He dropped another volume onto the top of the pile she was holding and the snicker turned into something that sounded like 'oomph.'
"I think," Kate said, sounding strained, "that if you want any more books, we ought to make two trips."
"No, I think that's it," he replied, and jumped lightly off the ladder. He took the topmost few books and headed towards the main office of the Ministry's library. "For now, anyway. We can do more research later."
"We?" she said incredulously, following him. "This is what you had planned for today?" She sounded a little ticked off.
He shrugged. "Someone has to do it." Besides, he thought to himself, it's my fault Alicia's in St. Mungo's in the first place. I might as well see if I can find her a way out of there. "You don't have to help. I haven't got anything better to do tonight, but maybe you do." Maybe part of the reason I'm looking for that cure is to distract Oliver. From you. Although, he hadn't thought that particular aspect all the way through until now. He didn't want Kate to be heartbroken. He did want Alicia to wake up and Oliver to back off. What if he were causing a chain reaction?
"Don't be daft," Kate commanded, struggling to heave up several heavy volumes of text onto the Librarian's desk. The woman behind it was watching them speculatively. "Of course I'll help you. I just hope you remembered your library card."
"Library card?" Charlie asked, a trifle confused. Probably some Muggle invention Kate had heard about. "Hello, Jennie." He held his palm out over the scanner that the Librarian was holding out to him.
"Preparing for a little light reading, I see," the Librarian answered amusedly. She then tapped her wand on each of the books. After each tap, the tip of her wand shone green for a moment to confirm the temporary transfer of the tomes to his care. Inside the front cover, the words Charles Weasley, DMLE appeared. When Jennie got down to the last volume, however, the tip of the wand glowed red. "Sorry, Charlie. It looks as if you don't have the authorization to take out this one. Maybe if Miss Beard…"
Kate held her hand over the scanner, looking slightly curious as to how the Librarian had known her name. Once the book was assigned to her, they picked up the books and left. Kate looked down at the book on the top of her pile. "Why do you think I had the authorization to take out that book, Charlie?" she asked quietly.
He started. He had been too preoccupied in his pondering of Alicia's predicament to even think about that. "Which was it?" he asked back, now curious himself.
"I guess we'll find out." A few moments later they stumbled out of his fireplace and deposited the huge pile of material on his coffee table. "This one," Charlie said after a moment's sorting, holding up Elf Genealogy. "Wonder why?" He opened it and was not surprised to find page after page of convoluted family trees.
Kate shrugged. "Maybe you're not supposed to know which Elf is related to today's politicians?" She looked a little uncomfortable. "Anyway, I'm guessing we're looking up ancient uses of the Dormius Curse, remedies, how it was adapted…?" She grabbed Adaptations of Anciente Magick for Modern Wizardrie and flipped to the index a little nervously.
Cataloguing this fact in the back of his mind, Charlie turned to a more useful text, Elfish Medicine, and let it absorb him.
It was a long time before Kate distracted him again by speaking. "Is there anything in there about sick trances being induced for the chronically ill, Charlie?"
He flipped to the back of the textbook. "I think so. Just a minute." The index directed him to page 1052 and he began scanning through the text. "Actually, it does seem to be a variation of the Dormius Curse. Apparently they put the ancient Elves used to put their sick into trances to preserve them until they could travel far enough to get a doctor or an obscure remedy." Charlie skimmed over a few pages of irrelevant examples. "And used to wake them up by…" He paused, dumbstruck, and thought immediately of Alicia. "You're kidding me."
"What?" said Kate, her curiosity piqued.
"It's like a real life Cinderella story," Charlie explained. "Or it could be- there were other ways to wake the dead, as it were. But most common, especially for She-Elves who fell ill, was a tradition to have the young man who set out on the quest for her wake her with a kiss. And of course in the mindset of the ancient Elves that constituted a binding contract and the two were destined to be married. Of course, that often turned out not to happen because the Elf on the quest never returned." He shrugged. "We hardly ever think of things like that these days because it seems impractical and unrealistic. But I wonder if Alicia-" He stopped himself, realizing he'd gone too far.
"Alicia?" Kate repeated, her eyebrows raised. "Alicia Spinnet? Charlie, what do you know about Alicia Spinnet that I don't?"
He had forgotten whom he was talking to, and that she knew a great deal about the personal life of Oliver Wood. And Oliver and Alicia had been on the same Quidditch team, hadn't they, and so naturally they had been close. Kate, apparently, knew something he didn't.
"Charlie. She's dead. Right?"
Charlie squirmed uncomfortably. "That's classified information."
Kate stood up. "Charles Weasley," she said in a voice that didn't need extra volume to convey its meaning, "there is another man out there who tore his life apart when Alicia Spinnet disappeared, and if you don't tell me what you know then so help me, I'll tell Oliver that you know."
He sighed. Kate had played her trump card and as usual he had to give in. Which was probably for the better anyway. After all, this would probably take Oliver off of Kate's hands… But what if Kate didn't want that? What if what Kate wanted was Oliver? Charlie covered his eyes with his hand for a second. He was overanalyzing the situation and making it as difficult for himself as possible. He sighed again. "All right. Go find Oliver."
She looked up at him for a half a second before throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Charlie." Then she was gone.