"That's…"
"Charlie, you must understand, a werewolf's morality is different to a humans."
"I know; Seventh Year Care of Magical Creatures essay on the psychology of werewolves." Charlie sighed.
Remus smiled slightly. "If you're closest to Bill, then it makes sense that you're the one he wants as Pack. Depending on how wolfy he is, chances are it won't be incest to him, it would be instinct."
"You he wants to-"
Sirius grinned, despite the severity of the conversation. "All wolves get horny around the moon. That's is a about a week, and already these to can feel the pull of it. Chances are he can to, and believe me, that will be on the forefront of his mind."
"Not everything in life can be judged by societies morals. You've got to remember, morality was decided by muggles, its one of the reasons magic when underground in the medieval ages."
"What do you want, Charlie?" Harry asked.
"I don't know"
There was a long pause.
"I don't honestly think you'd be hear if you weren't open to the possibility, Charlie."
The red-head blushed fiercely, unable to meet any of the eyes that looked upon him. He stood up.
"Thank you for the tea."
Charlie Weasley stood at the side of the violently purple magical joke shop in Diagon Alley. He didn't know why he rung the bell. It was stupid. It was too late at night for one thing – he'd spent most of the day thinking in a park and not returned to the hospital. This really was stupid. They'd get angry, offended, and rightfully so. He was about to ask them, to accuse them–
"Hello? Oh, Charlie! Come in. It's bloody ages since we've seen you." Fred, or perhaps George's face had appeared at the door. "Come upstairs." His brother led him up a narrow set of stairs that formed most of the hallway. At the top he turned, the room opening out to reveal a rather untidy living room, with a beaten up brown sofa, coffee table and many large cardboard boxes.
"Charlie, you prick. You haven't visited in ages!" Fred said, standing up and punching him good-naturedly on the arm. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"
"Actually I'm-"
"Do ignore the mess, were waiting for the documents of our warehouse to process so we can clear the space. You should see the guest room – its packed!"
"Coffee?"
"Oh, yes."
Charlie smiled and leant back against the sofa. Like this, he almost felt normal. George had gone to the kitchen, and Fred bent over the table, half-heartedly stacking papers, letters and newspaper clippings to make way for the cups, walking all the while.
"So why are you here?" George asked, coming back into the room and settling himself on the sofa. Fred promptly joined him, after dropping the stack of papers into a cardboard box.
"I'm staying in London. I rent a little muggle flat so I can be close to Bill."
"No dragons?" Fred asked. "What happened to never wanting to leave Romania?"
"Compassionate leave."
There was a minute pause, before George picked up the conversation again.
"So how's Bill doing?"
"Mum's getting frantic that he won't let her in. She keeps coming round here unexpectedly whenever she's been turned away. You should go and see her too. She's playing hell with our sex life."
"That's kind of why I'm here…"
"About Mum?"
"No, err…don't get offended by this but when you were kids, did you at all -" Charlie had turned scarlet. It was odd to see such a muscular, down to earth man blush. George smiled and shared a glance with Fred.
"Fuck?" Fred asked grinning.
Charlie looked awkward. The twins cracked identical smirks.
"Don't worry, we'll spare you the details."
"Can't you remember Mum walloping us with her broomstick when she found us in the attic?" Fred asked, sounding actually curious rather than teasing.
"Seemed like she shouted for days. Wasn't as bad as that time she found us in the barn though…" George's voice had a misty quality to it. His eyes looked distant. "Gods, that was fun."
"Um, I kind of wanted to talk to you about…"
"We know, we figured." They said in unison.
"Sex with Bill, right?"
Charlie, if possible, turned an even brighter shade of scarlet.
"Yeah," he murmured, barely audible.
"Morality is whatever works for you, doofus."
"Every situation is unique. It's only stupid muggles that think there's some divine set of rules telling us what to do. You've been listening to mum to much. Right and wrong don't exist. Wrong is only wrong if it's wrong for you, or hurts someone."
There was a long pause. Charlie stared at his coffee cup. There was a sigh, and then two identical weights pressed down on the sofa each side of him, as the twins sat.
"Be honest with yourself, Char, when you were a kid, didn't you ever want to try things with Bill?"
"Ya know, fun things?"
Charlie swallowed.
"We did."
"And still do by the way."
"Lots."
Charlie sighed and opened his mouth to speak.
"Do you really think it's wrong Charlie? Really?"
"Do you honestly think its wrong for one soul trapped in two bodies to not want to be close?"
"I...I don't know…."
"Bill's situation is unique. Our situation's unique. Everyone situation is unique."
"How do you think Sirius can justify shagging the 18 year old son of his dead best friend, who his other best friend turned into a werewolf and also just happens to be shagging?"
"You just need to choose what you want to do."
Fred and George stood up, placing their cups on the table, and left the room.
"Stay here tonight, and think about it. You can have the sofa."
"Sleep on it; you'll feel better."
A blanket came from nowhere and hit the older brother squarely in the side of the head.
The next morning when Charlie awoke, he did feel better, despite the fact his back ached from the night on the sofa. What did it matter what the world thought, Bill was his brother, he loved him. If Bill needed him in that way, so be it. It wasn't as if his brother was unattractive, even with those scars, there was still something about him. He hummed a light tune as he fried the twins some eggs for breakfast and left them under a warming charm on the counter with a hastily scribbled thank you note. He wanted to see Bill.
The streets were quiet as he made his way to St. Mungos, and the nurse on the front desk smiled at him, knowing who he was, before returning to the line of comically injured people in the queue before her. In the forefront was a ghost arguing loudly with a vampire, who somehow happened to have a ghostly axe stuck in his head. The ghost was making very clear he wanted it back.
The corridor to Bill's room, and the magically operated elevator were deserted. Charlie sped along them, not knowing why he his feet carried him so fast. He wanted to see Bill.
But when he got there, the room was empty, bed made, unslept in. Charlie's heart stopped.