Update! Yay :)
Charlie needed to ask. All of dinner he'd been wiggling in his seat. It was the eve of his first day at Hogwarts, his parents were throwing him a small dinner party in their – usually unused– dining room.
From the old people were the Marauders and Alice and Frank Longbottom. All former Hogwarts classmates of his parents. Their presence kept his mouth shut, when he shifted again, eyes traveling down the table to where his parents sat, he was interrupted.
"Charlie, are you okay?" Neville whispered under his breath, careful to not be heard by the conversing adults. "Are you gonna ask?" His tone was hesitant, but there was a glimmer in his eye. Neville, like Charlie, was forbidden of speaking of the missing family member in this dinner but it was never clear as to why. Charlie's gaze landed on Uncle Sirius even as he nodded, they'd discussed what little information they had about Hadrian Potter until exhaustion along the years.
He knew his dad and Uncle Sirius had been inseparable in their youth. Brothers, his mother had once wistfully recited. Ever since Sirius moved in with Hadrian, or even before then, their relationship had suffered. Apparently, Sirius was just as confused by Charlie as to why the eldest Potter child was treated like the plague. Or rather, if he did know, Charlie had the feeling he didn't really approve of the decision. Charlie didn't even know why he came to these family gatherings.
"Well friends," Uncle Sirius cut right through the conversation with a small smile. "This was delicious but I have good-byes to give at home tonight." Charlie expected his eyes to drift accusingly at his parents, the way they always did whenever Sirius' charge was brought up, but today he barely glanced at them. He turned to Charlie, and as he stood up to say his goodbye's, crushed him in a hug. Charlie took a moment to hug back, he was so surprised. Uncle Sirius had always been very affectionate but he realized the fanfare when he felt something slip into his pocket. He bit down his knowing grin. Uncle Sirius kneeled in front of him to look him in the eyes.
"Have lots of fun at Hogwarts, Charlie." He said, eyes twinkling in mischief. "Be sure to get in lots of trouble and tell me all about it, I won't rat you out to your mom."
"Hey!" Lily chastised good-naturedly. Charlie smiled. Sirius looked at Neville.
"You too, Nev." Neville smiled back. "You two boys watch each other's back, yeah?" They both nodded dutifully, exchanging glances. They'd grown up with the marauder's escapades, they were excited for the year. Sirius smoothly went down the table, giving Remus a slap in the back, politely wishing a good evening to the Longbottom's and kissing the top of his parent's heads, an oddly affectionate gesture.
"Traitor 1, traitor 2," He said cheerily as he went, eyes full of discord. "I'll see my way out and comment Harry about your nonexistent good wishes. Thanks for dinner."
Silence befell the table.
"Awkward…" Neville murmured under his breath, Charlie inhaled sharply to contain a laugh.
His mother was looking at the table, face grim and his father's brow was twitching in that way where Charlie just knew he'd get in trouble. Remus had his hand on his face, pinching his nose as if to fight an upcoming headache.
"Diplomatic, Padfoot." The werewolf murmured under his breath.
"Lily, maybe now, before Hogwarts…" Alice Longbottom started, and in hindsight, Charlie thinks he would've liked to know where she was going with that but he'd been a live wire all summer since his Hogwarts letter. He could not wait any longer.
"Am I going to meet Harry at Hogwarts?" He blurted out loudly on the table. He felt Neville freeze up next to him, his neck swiveling to look at him with wide eyes. He had known Charlie was going to ask, but apparently, he'd attributed him more tact than Charlie warranted.
There was the sound of Remus' forehead meeting his palm – that seemed to be his general disposition whenever his brother was mentioned, loads of face-palming. Uncle Frank looked uncomfortable, he had a very meek disposition, not unlike his son that always made it hard for Charlie to picture him as an Auror. Alice Longbottom stared down at his parents as if his comment had only served to egg her on. His mother's voice was sharp.
"Charlus!" His name was a burning reprimand on his mother's tongue, James placed a hand lightly on her arm.
"Charlie, you know…" He didn't want to hear it. He was tired of this secrecy. Harry hadn't written more than once this entire summer. He hadn't written much since years ago, Charlie knew his brother was at Hogwarts but that was also one of the few pieces of information he knew.
"What?" He challenged, feeling particularly bold. He'd be out of the house for the rest of the year, his parents would have time to get over anything he said tonight. "That we don't mention him in polite company?"
"Charlie," His father's gaze narrowed, that stare had probably pinned down hardened criminals, but the effect was lost on an 11-year-old boy. "You know that's not true."
"You're right." Sirius' present weight in his pocket. "'Cause, we don't talk about it at all! If I did run into him tomorrow, I wouldn't even know what he looks like. This is bloody ridiculous!" It's better this way, little brother. Hadrian had written and Charlie knew it wasn't true. He had a brother out there, who didn't know him and that wasn't right!
"Language, Charlus Potter." His mother snapped, but her eyes were weary. She and Alice were exchanging looks. His mother looked at his father and they had one of their eye conversations, Charlie hated when they did. His father relented.
"Come, Lily, Frank, and I will help you tidy in the kitchen." Aunt Alice said as she stood up, already levitating most of the plates and cutlery, her husband followed her lead. She sent one warning stare towards her son, one Charlie knew to mean 'behave,' before whisking his mother and their entire table away.
His father stood up.
"Remus, can you…?" The Head Auror made a vague hand gesture, that apparently took at least two decades of friendship to identify because Uncle Remus nodded as he clasped his father's shoulder.
"Of course, James."
"C'mon boys." He started walking them into the sitting room. Despite the tense atmosphere, Neville and Charlus exchange excited glances. He couldn't believe that worked!
"Same." Neville chuckled softly. As Charlie heard the answer and caught Uncle Remus' knowing eyes, he realized that he'd said that out loud. He could feel his face flush.
Charlie has thought -naively so, at the moment when his hands wrap desperately around the cup, that maybe, this whole Triwizard tournament thing hadn't been so bad. It'd been dreadful at the beginning, what with Ron's disdain, the castle's underlining tension, his unwanted rivalry with Cedric, and the looming threat of his ultimate demise. (Though, now that he's thinking about it, not all of those things are new.) Charlie, for all that he is easily one of the most recognizable wizards in history, isn't by nature someone who enjoys or draws attention. In fact, it had been noted that for a celebrity attending a magical school, Charlie got along fairly under the radar. By miracle or by design Charlie was never sure, Hogwarts was certainly tame compared to the droves of fans he encountered at events or in the streets, subdued almost. Hermione once told him that high school had its own way to assign value to people that were often disconnected from society, but the stark contrast is jarring yet undoubtedly welcomed.
So, maybe it's this limbo of life that Charlie gets to enjoy during the school year that makes him forget that he is the Chosen One -whatever that means other than being destined for either murder or gruesome death. Or the little lucky breaks he keeps catching just when he needs them most. Or two loving parents who put up with all the crazy, unpleasant things involved in your child unknowingly vanishing the evilest Dark Lord in the history of Great Britain. (Charlie fears it might all be too much one day, he'll be too much trouble for his parents and his friends. He doesn't want to put anyone in danger, he doesn't want to defeat the Dark Lord. He just wants to be Charlie.)
Maybe it's that -other than Moodie's kidnapping- the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters have been suspiciously quiet this year.
Whatever it is, it ends up with the ever-vigilant Charlie completely blindsided. As his fingers curl around the cup handles, the thing takes a bite right out of him where he bleeds and the distinct sound of a portkey fills the air. Charlie stumbles, landing hard on his back, air exploding out of his lungs and leaving him disoriented. He looks around, trying to understand where he is, but the bright lights of the quidditch pitch hinder his vision. Eventually, the white spots clear and Charlie stutters in a breathe, his chest agonizing from the struggle.
Everything is the same. The labyrinth around them is thick and forbidding, the crowds are wild as they scream, Cedric is still across the path from him, staring in apprehension. But, everything is different too, because standing on the raised platform where there used to be the Triwizard's Tournament Cup, dressed regally in ebony robes, is a man. He's young, maybe a couple of years out of Hogwarts, but his presence is stunning. The Death Eaters around him clue him in, but it isn't until Dumbledore himself rises to meet him that Charlie confirms what his heart already knows.
"Tom," Dumbledore's voice carries across the crowd, and a hush falls over the stadium, whether the audience has been shocked into silence or a spell has been cast Charlie cannot tell, he's too busy trying to not vomit out his heart as it pounds out into his throat.
"Dumbledore," the voice is like a thunderstorm, soundless lightning and spooky thunder, "I've come for your head."
Cedric watches the Dark Lord and his heart stutters in his chest, fear clogs his veins, and sticks his feet to the ground. The back of his mind screams at him to move, while his heart pleads for him to hide. All common sense leaves him to die.
One of the Death Eaters is so close, three feet away from Cedrics kneeling form, where he crumbled at their arrival, that Cedric can hear their breathing where it slides over their mask and see the fancy threading in their robes. Cedric doesn't think he was this scared facing a dragon. Around him, the audience moves in exaggerated, terrified gestures like a silent film, a choreography of chaos. He cannot see Charlie, but Cedric cannot summon the despair and humiliation he'd been feeling before. Beaten by a kid, he'd thought. None of that mattered now.
They both have to get out of there, immediately. Cedric waits for the chaos, notices the way the Death Eaters ignore him, and prays to every deity he knows as he crawls his way to the other side of the raised stage. Aurors, teachers, death eater and veterans, even some older students are clashing through the barrier. The sound of flames cutting through the night sky and curses being flung about sends chills down his spine. Cedric is a talented duelist, but he's smack center in enemy territory, and the Death Eaters do not seem to be losing any ground. If they deem him a threat he'll be a goner. Regrouping with Charlie is his best bet, together they can whether it out or find a way to escape.
Most concerning are the still figures in the middle of the chaos.
For all that everyone around is a flurry of motion and violence, the two most powerful wizards of the century stare each other down. They seem to be conversing, nothing pleasant if You-Know-Who's features are to be trusted but they seem to dominate a different plane of existence, untouched by the world falling apart around them. Cedric's heart beats itself into a frenzy when right behind He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, just fifteen feet away from the most sinister being Great Britain has ever known, his robe catches in a branch escaping the neat trim of the maze. Cedric fails to free it three times, but eventually, he looks away from You-Know-Who long enough to put trembling fingers to tease out more effective results. Every second permeated by the certainty that he will be extinguished now that he's not looking. When he finally passes by, most of the Death Eaters have spread farther away, blazing paths of carnage deep into the crowds, each a whirlwind of misery and cruelty, like acid rain upon the defenseless.
Cedric's thoughts drift to his parents, so eager and proud upon their arrival earlier in the afternoon and now, Cedric isn't even sure they're alive.
It's more dreadful a feeling than what Cedric discovers next, but everything is unbearable at that moment, distorting the world and making him nauseous. On the other side of the pedestal, there are no more Death Eaters to be found, already away killing innocent people, but neither is there Charlie Potter.
Cedric searches around desperately on his knees, not daring to stand lest he become a target but the only coherent thing he can discern through the hell the Quidditch pitch has become is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named walking steadily, unhurried and unhindered, to meet Professor Dumbledore in battle.
Cedric is alone behind enemy lines, despair is a feeling he had never known.
Thoughts? I know it's slow going but we'll get there. Thank you for all the encouragement, it really gets me writing :D