Author: kaly
Rating: K
Category: short story, angst
Spoilers: none
Series: Brothers' Bond
Timeframe: Ron's 22. Charlie's 32.
Summary: During the darkest days of the war there is too much to fear and too little to hope for.
Thank you: To geminigrl11 for the beta. :)
Notes: Seventh in a series (of ten), Brothers' Bond, focused around Ron and Charlie. In it, Charlie is ten years older than Ron. Becomes AU after GoF canon.
Previous stories in the series:
#1 - The Path of Thorns
#2 - The Lesson of Loss
#3 - Watching Over You
#4 - It's Never Easy
#5 - Holiday Cheer
#6 - Solace
Disclaimer: JKR. Scholastic. WB. Their toys, I'm just borrowing the guys, I promise! Besides, I'd use Charlie more if they were mine. ;)
Stormy Weather
It was pouring and the wind was pummeling the walls of the Burrow, as if even the sky was lamenting the dark days in which the world now found itself. Charlie flinched when a particularly loud clap of thunder rattled the windows and wished, not for the first time, that he were back in Romania.
For some time, it had been no secret that He Who Must Not Be Named was seeking a return to power. It had been whispered and rumored all the years his younger siblings had been attending Hogwarts. And the inevitable war, when it finally came, was something out of the darkest nightmares.
Charlie was old enough to remember the first dark days - when Voldemort and his minions had first risen to power. Days when the whole wizarding world had been saved, neither by might nor strategy - but by a woman's love for her child. A child who, years later, stood on the front lines of yet another bloody war.
Ginny had just graduated from Hogwarts when the dull rumbles of revolution began to grow into the open din of revolt. Charlie had returned home for the ceremony, happy to be with his entire family even if only for a short time. However, all the while they smiled and celebrated, none of them could ignore what was coming.
Word was slow to arrive from England after that, and it wasn't long before Charlie could no longer stand to be so far away. He packed his bags hurriedly, late one night, and was in the air just ahead of the dawn. If war were truly coming, his place was home, at the Burrow, with his family. Even the dragons he loved couldn't keep him away. Not much later Bill had followed suit.
Although there were precious few places that the dark wizards had left unscathed, their homeland had seen the worst of it. The conflict seemed to be focused close to Hogwarts and, worse still, far too near the Ministry. Charlie knew without asking that Bill had felt the same pull he did.
Charlie's heart was weighed upon most heavily by one thought. For, if Harry were to face the worst of it all, be it by destiny or a doom foisted upon him at birth, there was no doubt in Charlie's mind who would stand with him. He knew Ron would never leave Harry's side willingly, and that frightened him most of all.
So many mundane things had grown fraught with danger in the dark days. Owls were few and far between. Travel wasn't safe at anymore, even Apparating, especially at night. The Death Eaters roamed many areas, causing most wizards and witches to flee indoors once the sky grew dark. It was of little protection, if one were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it was something.
They were consoled, somewhat, by the fact the twins were with Ginny, overseas in the States. They had wanted to return home, as Bill and Charlie had, but stayed where they were at their mum's request, removed somewhat from the immediate danger. Something told Charlie that, come a lull in the fighting, they would return home as soon as they could.
He would have preferred if they were all together at the Burrow but knew it wasn't to be. While he remained with their mother, the others were in London at the Ministry helping stage the main defense. Most of the time communications were so poor they could only trust that nothing had happened.
For the time being, he and Bill were taking turns, one staying at the Burrow while the other remained at the Ministry. Charlie had been at home for almost a month and knew he would soon spell Bill. His hands itched at the thought - he felt helpless, remaining behind. But for the time being, while they could afford such luxury, they heeded their father's wishes that someone remain at home. Just in case.
Charlie had long grown wary of flinching at every creak and whistle, especially in a house so worn as the Burrow. So the first time that he heard the noise, Charlie told himself it was the wind. But when it happened again Charlie tensed, pulling his wand from a robe pocket. He moved noiselessly, stopping in the shadows across from the door. He waited for the first sign of movement with his wand at the ready as the door inched slowly open, the hinges giving a low groan.
"Expelliarmus," he hissed and a wand flew into his hand. The satchel and broom that the figure had been carrying then landed at his feet.
Disarm first. Question second. Kill last, if need be. He dreaded the day if order of that directive changed.
Stepping forward, still just out of sight he added, "Lumious." The sudden light caused spots to pepper his vision; however the other figure's face was hidden in the shadow of a cloak.
A sudden burst of wind thrashed through the open door and pulled the hood away from the intruder's face. Two things happened then, almost simultaneously. Charlie recognized the weary figure in front of him. And he barely had time to rush forward before Ron collapsed.
"Ron?"
Ron heard the voice, coming from somewhere far away and wanted to ignore it. If he ignored it, the world, he could stay wherever he was. It was fuzzy. Warm. Safe. He couldn't quite recall the last time all those things had occurred together.
"Please Ron. You have to wake up."
Hearing the worry in the voice troubled him. He knew the voice, recognizing it almost immediately. Gathering the strength to fight against the darkness that surrounded him, he felt a large hand cover his forehead.
A loud clap of thunder shook him and where he had been rushed back. Reminding him why he was there. He was cold. He had to hurry. So much was happening. So much had changed. The thoughts swirled around in his head, chasing one another, until the familiar weight on his forehead faded away. He didn't fight when the cold retreated and he was blessedly warm again and the voice was no more.
Their mum was beside herself with worry over Ron. They had dried him as best they could, and Charlie could only watch as she paced restlessly. Ron had exhausted himself traveling from London and there was nothing they could do but wait. Charlie had seen their mum to bed, only after insisting that he would sit with Ron through the night.
It was nearly dawn before Ron finally woke.
"Ron?" he asked, taking a seat on the couch beside him.
Ron stirred, mumbling words under his breath that Charlie couldn't understand. He cupped Ron's cheek in his hand watching as Ron's eyes moved agitatedly beneath their lids. It was the second time Ron appeared close to waking; the first having come and gone hours before.
"Ron, please wake up. You need to wake up."
The longer Ron slept, the more worried he became. His pleas were rewarded a few moments later when bleary green eyes opened slowly. Ron stared at him with an unfocused gaze and Charlie held his breath.
"Charlie?"
Relief rushed through him and Charlie nodded. "Yes."
Ron struggled to sit up and Charlie helped him get situated. He looked around for a minute before asking, "Home?"
Caught off-guard by Ron's confusion, Charlie could only nod. "Yes. You gave us quite the fright, collapsing like you did."
"Charlie..." Ron said, and Charlie wondered if he had even heard his words. He sat up suddenly, almost knocking Charlie onto the floor. Charlie just managed to get a hand on Ron's arm before he collapsed again.
When his little brother finally looked at him, held up by little more than Charlie's hand, he looked shell-shocked. He scooted forward and Ron launched himself into his arms, winding his own tightly around Charlie's waist. It reminded him of the child Ron had been, so very many years before.
Charlie's heart pounded in his chest, scared of what had shaken Ron so horribly. "Ron?"
Ron's face was pressed against his shirt so tightly that Charlie could feel his fight for breath as well as he could hear it. Almost positive he didn't want to know, but somehow needing to even more, Charlie licked his lips before forcing out the question, "What's happened?"
"He's gone." Ron's voice was cold, dead, and so faint Charlie almost missed it.
The fear he felt before made his blood run cold. Surely he had heard wrong. His heart wedged inside his throat so tightly he could barely speak. "What?"
Ron's trembling increased, wrenching him so hard that even Charlie shook with the force of it. Suddenly he moved away, out of Charlie's arms, not stopping until he was barely perched on the opposite end of the couch. He stared at Charlie with hollow eyes and began shaking his head, jerking it from side to side as if to deny the words that followed.
"Percy's gone."
A dull roar filled Charlie's ears and the floor tilted and bucked. The air was sucked out of his lungs and he barely felt the dull burn when his knees impacted the floor. He couldn't blink. Couldn't breathe. All Charlie could do was stare at his little brother before moving forward blindly and pulling him against him.
He gasped for breath but his lungs felt too small. His eyes burned with tears and he stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to will them away. "No." It came out a sob and he clutched Ron harder.
Seconds later, maybe minutes, he loosened his hold, hands on Ron's shoulders, and held him at arm's length. "Does anyone even know where you are?"
Ron shook his head, staring at Charlie's chest - not his face. "No."
An irrational anger born of fear filled Charlie and he held Ron at arms length, shaking him roughly. "How could you be so stupid, Ron? Do you know what could have happened to you? Traveling alone? Traveling at night?"
Ron did look at him then, his eyes dark with pain. He nodded, a quick snap. "Yes and I'd do it again," he said, his voice cool, distant.
"Why Ron?" Charlie asked, anger fading and bleeding into worry. Charlie tightened his grip on Ron's shoulders, hating the grief he saw on Ron's face. The guilt. "Why?"
Moisture filled Ron's eyes, a single tear falling down his cheek and off his chin. His voice broke. "I had to tell you. Tell Mum that..."
"You could have sent word..."
"No," he whispered, shaking his head and staring at his hands. When he looked up, Charlie's heart caught at the pleading there. "I had to tell you. This is... He was..." Ron seemed to choke on the words. His shoulders beginning to shake as the tears he'd been denying finally broke free.
When Charlie held out his hand, Ron fell willingly into his arms, again accepting the comfort that was offered. "I was there," he said in a broken voice, clutching weakly at Charlie's shirt and sounding all of five-years-old. "I saw. It could have been me. Should've been me. He wasn't even supposed to be there, Charlie."
"No!" Charlie hissed, aghast. Shaking, he gulped nosily, unable to take a breath. "It shouldn't have been anyone."
Ron continued, unheeding, as though he hadn't heard. "I had... I had to be the one to come."
"You have to be safe, Ron. For all of us," Charlie said forcefully.
He didn't know if Ron was even listening, if he could hear the panic Charlie couldn't hide. He wondered if Ron knew how desperately he wanted to protect him from all the evil in the world, even still. Ron might not be a little boy any longer but he was forever Charlie's little brother.
"I'm sorry," Ron stuttered.
Maybe he had heard him after all. "It's okay."
Ron tried to pull away but Charlie wouldn't let him. "No, it's not. Percy..."
"I'm so sorry," Charlie said, wrapping his arms around Ron as tightly as he dared. He refused to let him pull away just yet.
When Ron spoke, it was in a small voice Charlie hadn't heard since Ron was a child. "I miss him, Charlie."
Grief welled up once more and Charlie's eyes burned. "I know."
"What will we do?"
Charlie stared up at the ceiling, reminded of another conversation a lifetime before. It had been when Ron was but a boy, far from the grown twenty-two year old that sat with him. "Whatever we have to. Whatever we can. It's all we can do."
Ron hastily wiped a hand over his face and straightened his robes. "I have to go back. Harry will be wondering where I am. And Dad and Bill."
Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets, for lack of anything better to do with them. Especially since all he wanted to do was comfort Ron, even as his own heart was breaking.
"Wait till the morning. It will be safer then and you can see Mum. She's worried about you and she misses you terribly."
"I miss you, too." The words were softly spoken and Ron seemed to age before Charlie's eyes.
"I'll tell her, if you want... About Percy." Charlie had to offer, all the while knowing he would be rebuffed. He wanted to save Ron the pain he knew would come in the morning.
Not surprisingly, Ron shook his head. "No, Charlie." There was a pause, the silence stretching out between them for a long moment. "Do you think things will ever be normal again? Will this ever end?"
Charlie wanted to say what he knew Ron needed to hear. It was what he needed to hear, too, but it would be a lie. He had never lied to Ron before; he wasn't going to start just yet.
"I hope so."
end