See below for an important author's note.
Thank you, MattD12027, for giving Katherine Baxter her name. She is now the second of my characters you have named.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I write this purely for fun. I make absolutely no money off this story. Please don't sue me.
The Savior of the Wizarding World
Chapter 7 – There Be Dragons Here
A week after the Hogwarts Commencement, Ginny was moved into the Janus Thickey Ward for Spell Damage on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. Molly Weasley had protested that Ginny should instead be allowed to come home, believing that being in her own bed in the house she grew up in might help her. She had finally been talked out of it, however, when the Healers had explained the constant care and supervision Ginny would require. For all the love she had for her children, Molly knew the sort of care they were talking about was out of her league. She briefly considered hiring somebody to care for Ginny but relented when she admitted to herself that the best place for Ginny was St. Mungo's.
The summer passed without incident for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They spent most of their time studying for their NEWTs and just enjoying being able to spend time together without worrying about Voldemort. At first they visited the Janus Thickey Ward nearly every day, along with the rest of the Weasleys, but eventually their visits became further and further apart. Despite the unspoken vow made by the family to never leave Ginny alone, by the end of the summer most of them were only visiting her at most once or twice a week. It was simply too difficult to watch her lay in bed, day after day, with no sign of waking up.
And so it was that Harry found himself standing outside the Burrow with his hands stuffed in his pockets to ward off the cold, late-October air. Harry and Hermione had joined the entire Weasley family, minus Ginny and Percy, at the Burrow for a dinner in Charlie's honor, who had decided it was time for him to return to Romania. It was the first time the entire family had gotten together in several months, and it was apparent to Harry just why that was. Fred and George refused to say a single word to their Father all night, leaving Arthur with a sad, resigned look on his face. Charlie spent the entire evening glaring at Harry, and when Bill dragged his younger brother into the other room they all heard the muffled sounds of shouting. When the two eldest Weasley children returned to the dining room table they were no longer speaking to each other. And, perhaps most disheartening of all, Molly barely spoke to anybody throughout the entire meal and ate almost nothing, instead staring off into space with a beaten look on her face. It was the most silent meal Harry had ever eaten at the Burrow.
He heard the sound of a door opening in the distance and turned to see Hermione walk out the front door of the Burrow. She looked around in the fading light of dusk for a moment before spotting Harry and walking towards him. Reaching him, she leaned up against the fence at the edge of the Weasley property that Harry was currently resting against. They stood there in silence for a moment before Harry spoke.
"Where's Ron?"
"Inside saying goodbye to Charlie," Hermione answered.
They lapsed into another silence, this time broken by Hermione.
"That was awful," she said.
Harry nodded grimly. "The whole family is falling apart. I never thought it would happen, not to the Weasleys…" he trailed off.
"It's all so unfair," Hermione said softly. She sniffled.
Harry turned to look at her, surprised to see tears on her cheeks. "Hermione?" he asked.
She sniffled again and wiped her face. "It's just so awful. Their family was always so full of love, and now they can barely make it through a dinner together. Fred and George didn't even crack one joke all night. Ron hides it, but he's not dealing with all this very well. I think he still feels guilty about not being able to help Ginny." She sniffled yet again and then sighed. "Look at me, I'm such a nut case these days."
Harry put an arm around his friend and drew her close to him. He smiled slightly. "You've always been a nut case, Hermione."
She laughed softly and rested her head on his shoulder. After a few minutes of companionable silence Hermione muttered, "You've changed, Harry."
"How so?" he asked.
"The old Harry used to be so uncomfortable with people touching him."
"How could I possibly resist having a beautiful girl resting her head on my shoulder?" he asked in a playful voice.
Hermione lifted her head and looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes. "What?" Harry asked. "You are beautiful, you know." When the uncertainty remained in her look he realized he had misinterpreted its cause. "Don't worry, Hermione, I say that as a friend, or maybe even a brother, but not like that. That's Ron's department."
Satisfied she wasn't guilty of leading her friend on, Hermione sighed and put her head back down on Harry's shoulder. "I'm not so sure about that."
"He's crazy about you, Hermione."
"The night you woke up after beating Voldemort, remember when Ron stormed out and I went after him?" She felt Harry nod so she continued. "He told me he had let Voldemort hurt both Ginny and me, and that he had failed to protect the two girls he loves most."
"See, I…" Harry started to say.
"That was more than four months ago, Harry. He hasn't said a single word about it since. The night I went home for the first time and talked to my parents, I had a long talk with my Mum about Ron. She told me I should take things slow, to let life return to normal before making any big decisions. But it's been so long now… I don't know what to think!"
Harry thought for a moment before responding. "He's scared, Hermione. He's going to lose Ginny…" For a second Harry got a faraway look in his eyes before continuing. "He's losing his family, as you saw tonight. He thought he was going to lose me when I was in that coma. He's probably afraid of losing you too. He's scared, and he doesn't know what to do anymore." Just like me, Harry added silently to himself.
Several more moments of silence passed as Hermione digested Harry's words. "You really have changed, Harry," she said at last.
Harry shrugged, dislodging Hermione's head from his shoulder in the process. "Sorry," he said. He glanced down and saw that she was giving him a rather intense look. After several seconds he started to feel uncomfortable. "What?" he asked.
"I'm supposed to be the adult in this friendship, Mr. Potter. When did you grow up?" Hermione asked the question in a teasing voice, but Harry could tell she was interested in a serious answer, even if she didn't expect him to actually give one.
"The night I watched Snape murder Professor Dumbledore," answered Harry flatly.
"Oh," said Hermione. It was not her most elegant statement ever but it was all she could think of to say in reply to that. Again the two lapsed into a companionable silence, watching the last light fade from the sky. Just as the first stars were appearing Harry heard the distant sound of a door opening for the second time that night. He turned around and saw Ron walk out of the Burrow.
"Hey," said Harry once Ron had walked over to where he and Hermione were standing.
"Hey," said Ron.
For several minutes that was the extent of their conversation as Ron joined the silence his two friends had been sharing. At the moment there just wasn't much to say to each other, each was lost in his or her own thoughts and drawing comfort from the constant presence of his or her two closest friends.
It was Harry who eventually broke the silence. "Are you ready to go?" he asked Ron.
Ron nodded. "Charlie just left a few minutes ago," he said sharply. His bitter tone did not go unnoticed by his friends.
"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.
Ron sighed. "Nothing," he said. Hermione looked like she was about to argue when Harry cut in.
"Let's go home," he said.
- - - - -
Charlie Weasley appeared at the edge of a clearing in the woods with a loud CRACK! It was dark, the only light coming from the moon overhead and the dying embers of a fire in the middle of the clearing. He looked around and saw several tents arranged in a loose circle surrounding the fire. An empty bottle of Ogden's finest lay on the ground near one of the tents. Pairs of thick work boots were scattered about near the various tents. The sound of soft snoring was evident drifting from a few of the tents.
Charlie walked softly through the clearing, stopping in front of a tent with no boots outside and no sounds of snoring evident inside. He looked at the words engraved above the opening in the soft exterior of the tent and let out a sigh.
Charlie
Weasley
There
Be Dragons Here
He was home.
Charlie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the tension slowly bleeding out of his body. Several months of tension, anger, and grief eased away as he breathed in the night air and stood before the place he truly thought of as home, tension that had come to a head just a short while ago as he was leaving the Burrow. After Harry and Hermione had gone outside the rest of his family had decided it was time to "set him straight," as his mother had put it. They had all ganged up on him and tried to convince him Harry wasn't to blame for what happened to Ginny. He didn't want to hear any of it. Of course the little brat was to blame! It was because of him that You-Know-Who decided to kill her!
It had quickly degenerated into an argument in which Charlie felt cornered – it was the first time in months his family had all agreed on anything. Charlie felt as though he had done a remarkable job keeping his cool despite being ambushed by his entire family, but Ron's comment had changed all that. When Ron told him he was dishonoring the memory of his sister by treating Harry that way he lost it. He had nearly attacked his brother, in fact he would have if Bill hadn't been there to hold him back. He screamed a few obscenities, told them all off for acting like she was dead when she wasn't and for opening their arms to the boy that was responsible for her condition, and told them that Percy actually had the right idea in breaking off ties with the family. The last sight he saw before Disapparating away from his childhood home was the stricken look on his Mother's face.
"Charlie?"
Charlie turned at the sound of his name and smiled when he saw the tall, burly frame of Jack Peters, the American Dragon Handler Charlie had come to call his best friend in the years they had spent together in Romania. He had missed his friend these past several months.
"Jack, how are you?" Charlie asked.
"Charlie! I thought I heard you Apparate in. I'd recognize your sound just about anywhere. I swear, you've got the loudest Apparition crack I've ever heard!"
Charlie shrugged, a playful smile on his face. "Well, you know me," he answered. "Talentless hacks like me are rubbish at Apparating."
Jack winced. "You're never going to let me live that comment down, are you? You'd just landed the girl I'd been after for months! You can't blame a guy for being bitter. Besides, that was years ago!"
Charlie chuckled. "If you had told anybody – like perhaps her – that you were interested, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to steal her away from you!"
Jack held up his hands in mock defense. "Whoa, whoa, like you're one to talk!" he joked. He froze just as the last word was leaving his mouth, his eyes wide in disbelief at what he'd just said.
Just as quickly as it had appeared upon seeing his friend, the light in Charlie's eyes disappeared. His smile faded away and his eyes turned cold. It was as if somebody had flipped a switch, a whole different Charlie was suddenly left behind where a smiling, laughing one had been standing only moments ago.
"Charlie, I'm sorry," Jack said softly. "I didn't mean..."
Charlie held up a hand. "It's OK, Jack. I know."
Jack took a step forward and studied his friend's face. "How are you, Charlie?" he asked after a moment. He didn't know the whole situation with the Weasley family, but he did know about Charlie's little sister.
"Glad to be home," Charlie answered truthfully.
"How is..." Jack trailed off.
"Ginny?" Charlie asked. Jack nodded. "The same as she was the day it happened," he answered. "They've moved her into a long-term care ward. I just... it was time for me to leave."
Jack nodded. "Listen, I've got a bottle of firewhiskey back in my tent. How about you and I crack it open and talk about old times? I can catch you up on what's been going on around here. We've got a couple new dragons in the area these days."
Charlie smiled faintly but shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, mate, but I think I'm going to pass for tonight. I think I might just turn in."
Jack nodded again. "Sure thing," he said. "Get some sleep, you look like hell." He turned and started to walk back to his own tent.
"It's good to see you too, Jack," Charlie called out after him.
Jack paused just outside his tent and turned back to look at Charlie. "I'm glad you're back," he said seriously. Then suddenly he broke out in a grin. "It hasn't been as much fun around here without you to get your ass burned by the dragons every other day. It's about time I had some quality entertainment again!" And with that he disappeared in his tent, leaving Charlie standing outside still working on a comeback.
Once again alone, Charlie turned back to his tent and stared at the words engraved above the opening. He ran his hand slowly over the words, tracing each letter of the silly little phrase. There Be Dragons Here. With a great sigh he lifted the flap and stepped inside.
Like most magical tents the interior was larger than it appeared from the outside, but in Charlie's case it wasn't that much larger. His was a simple tent, consisting of one room just large enough for his bed, desk, dresser (empty since everything he owned was either in the pack on his back or the pile he had left on the floor), and a rather comfortable reclining chair he had borrowed from Jack years ago (although Jack did like to complain that borrowing without asking didn't really count as borrowing). There was an opening near the desk that led into a small kitchen and eating area.
Charlie dropped his pack on the floor near the pile of clothes and looked around. It wasn't much, but it was all a man who lived in a camp in the woods and spent all day working with dragons needed. It kept him happy.
Charlie walked slowly around the room, looking at the various objects he had collected over the years. It was amazing to him how completely his idea of home had changed over time. For the first few years after moving to Romania he had loved returning to the Burrow, the feeling of going home was something special that he looked forward to before each trip. But over time that feeling had faded, it seemed that each time he returned to the Burrow it felt less and less like home. It had bothered him to realize he was losing that image, that idea in his mind, about the Burrow being home. He found himself feeling inexplicably depressed each time he went back there, and it was a long time before he realized it was because he was trying to hold onto something that didn't really exist any longer. It wasn't until he called Romania "home" one time without even realizing it that he understood there was nothing to be depressed about. He hadn't lost his concept of home, it had just shifted from one place to another. In some ways he would probably always feel like he had lost something, but realizing the Burrow wasn't his home no longer depressed him like it used to. Not that it mattered anymore, he realized as he remembered how his most recent trip home had ended.
He paused as he came to the nightstand next to his bed. A shadow passed over his face for a second as he looked at a Wizarding photograph before it was replaced by a soft smile. He picked up the framed picture and watched as the scene played out. Charlie and a woman with curly, blond hair were flying in circles around a large black dragon, trying to distract it from a third Dragon Handler who was attempting to take a blood sample. After an unsuccessful attempt to swipe at the two of them with its giant paw, the Dragon seemed to get frustrated. It let out a sudden belch of flame that ignited Charlie's broomstick, causing him to crash into the woman in his frantic attempts to put it out. The two crashed into the ground and lay next to each other, Charlie red with embarrassment and the woman shaking with laughter. Just as they were about to stand up the scene reset itself.
Charlie shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. He thought back to the day, three years earlier, when the woman had arrived in camp...
- - - - -
"Just wait until you see this new girl we've got," Jack said with a grin on his face. "She's absolutely fantastic!"
Charlie gave his friend a critical look. "The last time you hired a girl you said was 'fantastic,' she turned out to be one of the worst Handlers we've ever had. Please tell me this time you're referring to her skills handling a dragon and not how high she ranks on the 'Jack Peters Scale of Gorgeous Women,'" he said with a sigh.
Jack chuckled. "Just wait and see, my friend. Just wait and see."
Charlie said nothing and followed Jack along the path through the woods. He was so busy plotting revenge on Jack for the way Jack had gotten Charlie to agree – while he was drunk, no less – to allow Jack to choose the next new Dragon Handler they hired that it took him several seconds to notice that they had reached their destination. The path had come to an abrupt end at the edge of a cliff, giving them a magnificent view of an immense, lush valley below. It was one of several dragon refuges that Charlie's camp was assigned to oversee, and it was home to one of the most violent dragons Charlie had ever met: Norbert.
Just as Charlie was starting to fear the worst, a gigantic black dragon rose from a grove of trees on the valley floor and took to the sky. He turned his head and sent a boiling mass of red flame backwards before climbing higher in the sky. Charlie followed the flame with his eye and saw it narrowly miss a tiny black speck that danced out of the way just in time. He raised the pair of Omniculars he had around his neck to his eyes and confirmed his fears.
"Jack! You have our new recruit trying to give Norbert his flu potion! Are you BLOODY INSANE! You and I can barely manage to do that, and that's when we're working together. She's out there all alone? She'll be killed!" Charlie was livid. The last thing he wanted was somebody killed on their first day of work at the camp he and Jack supervised.
"Keep watching her, Charlie," Jack responded with that same maddening grin. Charlie shot his friend a filthy look but then did what he was told. He raised the Omniculars back to his eyes. He was too far away to see details even with the magic lenses, but it was obvious the new recruit was a young female. Charlie turned back just in time to see her avoid a second jet of flame from Norbert.
After avoiding the fire she hovered for several seconds, staying absolutely still. Norbert stopped several feet away and hovered as well. He let out a giant roar, shaking the entire valley and causing a flock of birds on a distant lake to take flight, but the woman did not even flinch. Unused to such a lack of response, Norbert let out a second roar even louder than the first, accompanied by a shower of sparks from his nose. Again the woman stayed absolutely still. Norbert snorted and cocked his head at her.
Suddenly, with a burst of speed that surprised even famed Gryffindor Quidditch Seeker Charlie Weasley, she shot forward directly towards Norbert. Norbert blinked and snapped at her with his huge jaws but it was too late, she had already passed out of range. She immediately pulled up into a vertical climb, and by the time Norbert had turned around to look for her she was nearly a hundred feet above him. He turned around in a slow circle looking for her before letting out a roar, this time a bit quieter and a bit more unsettled-sounding.
After hovering above him for several seconds and giving Norbert time to become rather agitated, she swooped down in a steep dive. Just as she passed through his field of vision she leveled out and swung around behind him. The enraged dragon turned around, sparks shooting out of his nose so quickly they were forming a nearly continuous river of flame. He drew in a deep breath but she continued to circle and had swung behind him again. Norbert swallowed the flame he was about to unleash, causing smoke to pour out of his ears. Combined with the sparks from his nose he formed a sight so intimidating even Charlie felt himself shiver.
Norbert turned around to find the woman but she had already swung around behind him a third time. He whirled around but she continued to circle, Norbert not quite able to catch up with her. The two spun faster and faster, eventually becoming nothing more than a blur of color, smoke, and flame. It was enough to make Charlie nauseous.
In a movement so fast Charlie nearly missed it the woman on the broom again shot upwards. Norbert, who was still trying to catch up with her in their spinning, never noticed and seemed to assume she was still circling him. He continued to turn in a tight circle and Charlie watched as the woman slowly descended until she was mere inches above the dragon. She reached into a pocket in her robes and pulled out something Charlie couldn't see but assumed was Norbert's potion.
"Norbert!" she suddenly called out in a loud voice (Charlie was too far away and would not have actually heard her without the magic of the Omniculars).
Norbert stopped spinning. He leaned to one side in the air briefly before he managed to right himself. He tipped his head up to find the source of the sound, his mouth hanging open and his gigantic, black tongue hanging to one side. In one fluid motion the woman poured the potion into his open mouth, reached back into her pocket (most likely to put the empty bottle away), and sped off. By the time Norbert even realized what had happened she was well out of harm's way.
Norbert froze for a few seconds. The sparks ceased to flow from his nose. The smoke pouring from his ears briefly turned green and then ceased as well. He let out what could only be described as a cough before swooping down and landing roughly on the ground. He staggered around for several seconds just as an animal who had spent several minutes violently spinning would, and then laid down on the ground. He let out a roar that sounded more like a whimper before curling up and going to sleep.
Charlie turned back to Jack with wide eyes. It had been years since he had seen somebody handle a broom that well. "That... She... I mean... Wow," he stammered.
"I told you she was fantastic," Jack said with a chuckle. "She's not bad looking either," he added.
"Fantastic?" Charlie asked. "Bloody incredible is more like it. I haven't seen somebody fly that well since..." he trailed off, and after a moment he shook his head. "Well, in a really long time. Where did you find her? Who is she?"
Jack was about to answer but stopped as he glanced behind Charlie. Instead he gestured and asked, "Why don't you ask her yourself?" Charlie turned and froze.
"Charlie Weasley, meet Katherine Baxter," Jack said but Charlie barely even noticed he had spoken. He was staring at the girl – no, the woman – in front of him. He was staring at a face framed by slightly curly, blonde hair and punctuated by bright blue eyes. It was a face he saw often in his dreams despite his best efforts to forget. It was a face he had never expected to see again.
"Hello, Charlie," she said softly.
"Kate..." Charlie said. For a few brief seconds a thousand memories he had tried so hard to bury over the years flashed before his eyes. He was overcome with an elation at seeing her combined with a deep sadness. A large part of him wanted to sweep her into his arms but for some reason that he didn't fully understand he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he projected a collected, calm exterior that hid the strange combination of feelings at war within him and just stared at her.
"Do you two know each other?" asked Jack, who was eyeing the two with a puzzled look on his face.
Charlie nodded. "We went to school together," he answered before turning his attention back to Kate, who was still looking at Charlie. "I should have known it was you," he told her. "Best Chaser Gryffindor ever had."
Kate smiled. "That's right. I hear you've been replaced as Gryffindor's best Seeker, though," she teased.
Charlie winced but smiled. "I can admit not being the best when I need to. Harry Potter can fly a broom in ways I could never even imagine. He could probably even give you a run for your money."
Kate laughed softly. "Someday we'll have to see about that," she said.
"Well, I see introductions won't be necessary," Jack said. "Let's get back to camp. We'll get you set up with a tent, Kate."
Charlie started to nod but stopped, remembering he was needed to help a few Handlers in another of the refuges. "I can't, I need to go help out in the North Refuge," he told them, "but you two go ahead." He looked at Kate. "We should catch up later."
Kate nodded. "Definitely. I'd like that, Charlie."
Charlie pulled his shrunken broom out of his pocket and enlarged it with a quick wave of his wand. His gaze lingered on Kate for a few seconds before he mounted his broom and pushed off the ground. "I'll see you both later," he called as he sped off towards the north.
The work in the North Refuge took much longer than expected and, by the time Charlie managed to return to camp, it was several hours after sunset. He stopped off in his tent to drop off his broom and other gear and to grab a Butterbeer before joining the others around the fire. There were only a few Handlers still up, and with a quick glance around the circle he noticed Kate was not one of them. He couldn't help the twinge of disappointment that briefly flared within him. He helped himself to a bowl of soup from the pot over the fire, prepared by whoever's turn it was to cook that night, and sat back and ate slowly, listening to the men and women around him discussing everything from their work that day to Wizarding politics in nations all over the world.
The group slowly dwindled as people retired to their tents, and eventually he and Jack were the only two left sitting around the fire. They had been silent for several minutes, and just when Charlie was about to stand up and turn in himself, Jack spoke.
"What's the story with you and Kate?" he asked. Charlie didn't answer and instead stared into the fire. Mistaking his silence for not being heard, Jack repeated the question.
"I heard you the first time," Charlie answered, "I'm just trying to figure out how to answer. It's... complicated."
"What do you mean?" asked Jack.
"Kate and I were friends in school. We were in the same year, and we were both on one of our school's Quidditch teams. We..." he trailed off and frowned. He had never tried to put into words what had happened between them at Hogwarts.
"Did you date her?" Jack asked.
Charlie shook his head. "No," he said.
"But you liked her?"
Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I did."
"And she didn't like you in return?"
Charlie laughed, but it was a short, bitter laugh. "That wasn't the problem."
Jack frowned. "Charlie, you're not making any sense."
Charlie let out a great sigh and finally tore his gaze from the fire to look at his friend. "We were friends our last few years at school, nothing more," he said. "I never told her how I felt. Don't ask me why – I've asked myself that question countless times and I've never figured out the answer." He shrugged and looked back into the fire. "Anyway, a few days before Commencement, we both admitted we fancied each other and went on the last Hogsmeade Weekend together. A day out in a local Wizarding Village," he added when he realized Jack was American and had no idea what a Hogsmeade Weekend was.
"It was... fantastic. Awful. Both? Neither? I'm just not sure. It was so incredible to finally have a chance to be together, but there was this "doomed" feeling hanging over us. I was leaving in a few days to start work in Romania, and she was leaving a week later to play Professional Quidditch in Northern Scotland. There was so much I wanted to say to her, but we never really talked about any of it. We spent the day together and then, just like that, it was over, I was in Romania and she was in Scotland. We owled each other a bit at first, but even then we never really talked about what happened. So many things were left unsaid..." he trailed off.
"You being in Romania and her being in Scotland would have been hard, but not impossible," Jack said after a minute.
Charlie shook his head and looked at his friend. "I didn't want that, and I doubt she did either. It's just so hard to make that sort of thing work – people just get burned in the long run."
"You could have at least tried."
Charlie shook his head but didn't respond right away. Instead he thought about Jack's words for a few seconds. "It wasn't like that," he said at last. "I didn't know what I wanted. I don't know if she knew what she wanted. And we certainly didn't know what the other wanted since we never even talked about it. But looking back on it now, and I can only speak for myself, not for her, but what I wanted was..." he stopped. It was the first time he had ever tried to vocalize what exactly he had wanted. "I wanted something I couldn't have. I wanted to change things, to have all the wasted time back." Charlie sighed. "I don't know, I can't really explain any better. It was all so complicated. I don't know if I've ever sorted out everything that happened back then."
Jack shook his head. "Charlie, what is there to sort out? You liked her. She liked you. You both wasted all the time you had together, and while I don't know about her, ever since you've wondered 'what if' because you were too scared to talk – really talk – to her. It's not that complicated."
"It is to me," Charlie said softly.
"You're hopeless. Completely hopeless," Jack said with a sigh. "Do you still like her?" he asked after a moment.
"I've tried to forget about her over the last several years, and I thought I had pretty much managed to do just that," Charlie answered. "But when I saw her today – I thought I would be able to answer 'no' to that question, you know? It's been so long and so much has changed since we were – "
"It's a simple question, Charlie," Jack interrupted.
Charlie stopped in mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open for a second before he snapped it closed. He thought about the question Jack had asked. It was the question he had been trying to avoid dealing with all day, and while he had been largely successful at that while occupied in the North Refuge, Jack was forcing him to deal with it.
"I don't know," he sighed.
"You don't know, or you don't want to know?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. For all his playfulness and apparent immature behavior, he was more experienced in some of the things Charlie was talking about than he shared with others.
Charlie didn't answer, but he didn't have to. They both knew the answer even if he wasn't willing to say it aloud. They fell into a long silence broken only by the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind through the trees. After a while Jack stood up and stretched.
"I'm turning in," he told Charlie, who nodded. "I don't know Kate very well, and I have no idea what she thinks about all this. But, Charlie, don't make it so that you look back on this time years from now with the same regret you seem to have for when you were in school. One way or another you need to put this to rest in your mind."
Charlie didn't respond but he didn't have to, they both knew Jack was right even if Charlie still had no idea what to do about all of it. "Good night, mate," was all he said.
Jack nodded and disappeared into his tent, leaving Charlie alone with the fire, the wind, and his jumbled thoughts.
- - - - -
Charlie watched the scene with himself, Kate, and Norbert one last time before carefully replacing the picture on the stand next to his bed. He thought about the words Jack had said to him that night.
Don't make it so that you look back on this time years from now with the same regret you seem to have for when you were in school.
He peeled off his shirt, trousers, and socks and threw them into the pile of clothes in the corner. As he climbed into bed, he thought about how he had done exactly what Jack had warned him not to do.
"Nox," he said. The light in his tent went out and he placed his wand on the stand next to the picture. He lay awake for a long time before drifting into an unsettled sleep.
- - - - -
Arthur Weasley stood across the street from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, his cloak pulled tightly to him to protect against the bitter early-December cold. It had been nearly six weeks since he had seen his twin sons at Charlie's farewell dinner, despite his every effort to contact them. He had refused to try to speak to them for most of the summer, mostly out of shame over the terrible things he had said to them the day they tried to make Harry laugh by impersonating Aurors, but also partly because of his stubborn Weasley pride, and by the time he had made an effort to apologize for his words they had wanted nothing to do with him.
He had sent them several Owls each week after they refused to speak to him at Charlie's dinner, but each one had been returned unopened. Charlie was not coming home for Christmas, Percy would no doubt ignore the family just as he did every other day of the year, and Ginny certainly wouldn't be home. If Fred and George ignored him and created tension on Christmas – or worse, decided not to even show up for Christmas dinner – Arthur knew it would just tear Molly apart. Two of their children had cut ties with the family and a third was lost in a magical coma. He had to make things right with Fred and George.
Arthur took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He was surprised at how nervous he was about talking to his own sons. Sending Owls had been so much easier, but the time for taking the easy way out was over. He drew his cloak tighter around him and stepped into the street.
He didn't take more than one step before the door to the shop opened. He watched as two young boys, the older of the two not more than nine or ten, bounced out of the store, followed a few seconds later by a woman who was unmistakably their mother. She was carrying a large sack in her arms. Before she was even fully out the door her two children turned on her.
"Mum, can we have them now?" the older one asked.
The woman smiled and shook her head. "These are for Christmas, you know that. You'll just have to wait a few more weeks."
"But Mum, we already know what you got. We picked them out!"
She shook her head again. "I said no," she said.
"Please?" the older boy pleaded.
Before she could say anything, the younger boy joined his brother in their mission to wear down their mother. He looked up at her with a sad, wide-eyed look. "Please, Mum?" he asked in a tiny voice. "I promise I won't ask for anything else for the next year!" He had such a look of innocence to him that Arthur felt his heart go out to the child. Apparently his mother felt the same way, for she looked back and forth between her two boys for a few seconds before heaving a great sigh.
"Oh, very well," she said in a resigned voice. "You each can have one thing now. But everything else waits until Christmas. No Exceptions!" She tried to salvage her authority by being strict at the end, but it was clear the kids had already won the battle. She reached into the sack and pulled out two black, wooden wands.
With a quick "Thanks, Mum!" the two boys grabbed them from her hand and immediately pointed them at each other.
"Pow!" the younger one shouted.
"That's not a real spell!" the other boy protested. "But this one is! Stupefy!"
Instead of sending a jet of red light, the wand let out a loud BANG! and a thick puff of smoke, leaving behind a rubber chicken. The two boys squealed in delight as their faces lit up.
"Brilliant!" the one holding the rubber chicken said before bursting out laughing. Their mother, who had watched the exchange with amusement, prodded them along and all three made their way down the street. Arthur could still hear the sounds of child laughter long after they had turned the corner and passed out of sight.
For several minutes Arthur stood there staring at where they had disappeared. He kept picturing the look of delight on the boy's face when his toy wand turned into a rubber chicken before his very eyes. A small piece of wood with a rather simple charm on it that had been invented and sold by two of his sons had brought several moments of pure joy to those two children.
Arthur had never really understood what his sons did for a living. He was amused by the antics the two of them were always up to but he never understood the satisfaction the two of them found in the joke business. But watching that moment between two brothers and their mother, he understood, truly understood – perhaps for the first time in his life – what it was about their work his two sons found so satisfying. With his newfound insight he squared his shoulders, walked across the street, and stepped into the shop.
As he entered, he caught a very brief glance of a shop full of laughing customers, outrageously decorated for the holidays, and blaring Christmas music at an insane volume. But before he was able to even fully get through the door he suddenly froze. He couldn't move, it was as if a giant, invisible hand had grabbed a hold of him and refused to let go. He couldn't even move enough to attempt to struggle. He was completely frozen.
His mind had just processed this fact when he felt himself flung backward through the still open door. He flew through the air and landed hard on his backside in the same spot he had been standing only moments earlier while watching the two boys with their toy wands. A loud, whooping siren sounded. Arthur sat up, wincing as he felt pain shoot through his back. He would be sore for days.
He looked around in confusion and saw that the outside of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had transformed from the normal-looking exterior of a modest Wizarding shop into what looked like an impenetrable bank vault. Printed in flashing red and black letters across the face of the vault was one word.
BANNED!
Arthur sat on the ground for a few more seconds, trying to figure out what had just happened, and just as he was about to stand up a loud trumpet fanfare sounded. He looked around but could not find the source of it.
"Arise, wretched soul," came the sound of a disembodied, booming voice that echoed throughout the street. A crowd was gathering around the scene as Arthur looked around with wide eyes. "You will not be asked a second time," the voice intoned.
Arthur got to his feet as the trumpet fanfare sounded a second time. As it reached the final notes the illusion of the bank vault disappeared and was replaced with the normal exterior of the shop. The door opened and Fred and George stepped out. George was carrying a large piece of parchment.
Arthur opened his mouth but was interrupted by the booming voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. "You will remain silent." Arthur stared at his two sons in shock, but found his gaze met with hard, cold looks. The crowd had grown and now several dozen people were standing around in complete silence, watching the scene with great interest. George raised the parchment and cleared his throat. He began to speak, his voice magically projected and easily heard by all present.
"Arthur Weasley, for your crime of treating your sons with a lack of respect, dignity, and caring, we, the owners and operators of this fine establishment, have judged you accordingly. From this moment henceforth, you are banned from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. You are banned from using any Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products. You are banned from profiting in any way from the earnings of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Charms have been put in place to uphold this punishment. Good day to you, sir."
Without another word George rolled up the parchment, turned, and walked back into the store. Fred stayed a few seconds longer and stared at his father, who was frozen in wide-eyed astonishment over what had just happened, before turning and following his brother.
Arthur continued to stand across the street from the store as the crowd slowly dispersed. He thought about trying to follow his sons into the store, but considering what had just happened he knew it would most likely be a fruitless endeavor. He pulled out his wand and hung his head in shame. He felt like a complete failure. He gave his wand a twist and Disapparated from Diagon Alley.
Author's Notes:
It's been a really long time since I've updated, nearly five months to be precise. That's actually rather frightening to me, I find it incredible that five months has passed since I last updated this chapter. So why did I stop updating?
It was actually a combination of several things. The last several months of my life have been building up to an event that carried a lot of weight concerning my future, and as a result of that, hobbies such as writing had to take a backseat to concentrating on my future. That event is now over (and all went well, in case anyone was wondering), so in theory I should have more free time to update this story.
But it's actually more than that. This chapter that I'm posting was written around Christmas, and has been finished for nearly three and a half months. I didn't post it because it goes hand-in-hand with the next chapter, so I wanted to finish that one first and post them at the same time. But I never got around to writing it, and now that I have time to think about this story again, I find myself asking whether or not I really want to finish it? To be honest I have not yet decided. Writing this story takes up a large chunk of my free time, and I'm just not sure I have the desire to continue to spend that time doing this when there are so many other things in life I want to do as well. So, I'm just not sure. I know I've promised before never to abandon this story, and while I haven't actually decided yet, I'm leaning towards doing just that. I need to really think about whether or not I want to continue writing. Anyway, with that said, here's the original note I wrote when I wrote this chapter back in December:
While it may seem that much of this chapter came out of nowhere, Charlie, like Percy, has a very important role to play in this story, a role that has been loosely planned out right from the very beginning. You will slowly learn more about the history between him and Kate, their story during the three years between when she arrived in Romania and the present, and what all this has to do with both Charlie blaming Harry and where this story is ultimately headed.
From here on Charlie and Percy will be, for the most part, the only characters where I continue to use flashbacks to tell important bits of the story. Most of the other characters will begin to move forward - since I've given most of the important history and back-story for these characters that I need to, flashbacks will be less common.
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