Much like the previous week, the sweltering heatwave gave no reprieve to the inhabitants of Ottery St Catchpole. Adults endeavoured to avoid the sun, not daring to go outside unless absolutely necessary, while children were playing in the shade by the river. A red-haired, eleven-year-old boy ran along a path through the forest, constantly jumping and trying to grasp the swaying branches as he went. He had promised his mother that he would be back before dinner and was anxious not to be late for fear that she would forbid him from going back again. Despite his multitude of siblings, most of them were too young for him to play with, leaving Charlie to feel a little lonely at times.

After all, Charlie wasn't a child anymore.

Invariably, Bill was his best friend. They shared a room, practised Quidditch together, and helped their mum with their younger siblings when she needed it. But since Bill had left the Burrow, Charlie couldn't wait for his turn to join his brother at Hogwarts. He didn't know if he would ever be able to get used to not having Bill around to talk to and play with anymore. At home, his parents were constantly busy, and his siblings too young to understand him. The time spent at the nearby village was his escape from the monotony his life had become since Bill had left. Unfortunately, Charlie's mum wasn't too keen on letting him go there as much as he would have liked to. Instead, she preferred to have him nearby where she could keep an eye on her whole brood at once: it was rare that he would be able to talk her into letting him visit his muggle friends.

While running, he tripped over a tree root that had been jutting out, and he fell face-first onto the ground. For a moment, he lay there, still, as tears welled up in his eyes.

But he wasn't a child any more. He wouldn't cry.

Slowly he sat up, chewing his bottom lip. He stared at his dirty hands and knees that were starting to bleed.

He couldn't cry.

He looked up, and his eyes widened in surprise. Just under a tree, no further than ten feet away from him, was a little Kneazle curled up into a ball. The animal was filthy, his fur matted and spotted with dry blood. Forgetting his own pain, Charlie approached the animal and slowly put his hand out.

"Don't be scared," he whispered. The creature meowed as though in response.

"Come here, I'll help you," Charlie tried once more.

When the Kneazle made no move towards him, Charlie thought back to what he had read about these particular creatures. Being pretty sure that he could approach it without fear, he hesitantly made his way towards it, taking it in his arms and once again set off for home.

XXX

"Mum! Mum, look!" Charlie shouted, hurriedly entering the kitchen.

"Charlie, where have you been? Take Ginny and change her, please. Dinner will be on the table in half an hour," ordered Molly in an annoyed tone of voice, trying to be heard over the sound of Ron's weeping. The little boy was perched on her hip, clutched her neck and cried miserably. Molly was holding him with one hand while waving her wand to prepare dinner with the other.

"But Mum, look! We have to help it!" insisted Charlie, moving closer to show her what he had found.

"Charlie, can't you see that I'm busy right now? Your father will be home at any moment, and nothing is ready yet!" she replied, pausing for a moment to look him up and down. "Dear Merlin, just look at yourself! You're absolutely filthy! Go upstairs and clean yourself up! And get that cat out of my kitchen!"

"But Mummy…" Charlie whined.

"Charlie, please do as I say."

"But…" Charlie tried again, reluctant to leave the poor animal in pain.

"Charles Septimus Weasley, I told you to do something! You would do well to do as I say, young man!"

Charlie opened his mouth to protest again before catching sight of the wooden spoon lying on the table, wisely choosing to back down. Having lived through eleven years of his mother's rules, he knew just how much he could push her.

He took a saucer from the table and went upstairs to the bathroom. He put the Kneazle on the floor and turned on the tap. As soon as he started to use soap to clean his hands and knees, his wounds began to burn, but he merely scrunched his face up and carried on cleaning himself.

Charlie wasn't a child any more. He wouldn't ask for help just because of a few minor scrapes.

He washed his face and then proceeded to fill the saucer with water. He put the kneazle on the floor in his room, placing the saucer down next to it. He then took the sheets off the bed and laid them on the floor for the Kneazle to sleep on.

"Stay here, I'll be back in a moment," the boy crooned at the animal and bending to stroke it before leaving the room to go and get Ginny. He was just walking down the hall when he heard small sobs coming from inside the twins' room. He stopped and approached the door to listen but couldn't hear anything other than crying. Bothered by the sounds of distress, Charlie opened the door and stepped into the room. George was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall and stroking Fred's hair while he cried. Looking at Fred, Charlie thought he looked almost as pitiful as the little Kneazle.

"What's up, Freddie? What happened?" Charlie asked in the soft voice that he had used with the Kneazle just moments before. He approached the bed and took a crying Fred in his arms.

"Mummy spanked him… with a spoon," George said with a serious look on his face.

Charlie made a face at the memory of the big wooden spoon, sympathising with his little brother and knowing that he would have problems sitting down over the next couple of days. With Fred clinging and sobbing into his neck as though his life depended on it, Charlie sat down with parted legs so that Fred's bottom wouldn't come into contact with anything.

When Molly had pregnant with Ron, she hadn't felt well, so the two eldest had taken over the responsibility of looking after their younger siblings. With Percy, it was easy enough, as he used to entertain himself whenever puzzles and books were put in front of him. The twins, however, were a completely different story. Having just recently learned to walk, they loved running around everywhere and demanding everyone's attention. A little while after Ron was born, Molly was pregnant again, and although she had been feeling better, the majority of her time was spent looking after a baby Ron. Over the next year, little changed, aside from the fact that Bill left for Hogwarts, and their father had been spending more and more time at work, struggling to make ends meet.

Of course, Charlie wasn't a child any more.

He understood that his parents didn't have the time to give each of their children individual attention. With so many young ones running around and causing havoc, he tried not to bother his parents too much. However, he had noticed that Percy, Freddie and Georgie tended to get jealous at the amount of attention that Ron and Ginny got from their mother. Percy dealt with this by keeping to himself. In contrast, the twins did everything they could to get her attention, which only served to annoy their already stressed-out mother. Being the eldest child left at home, Charlie felt that it was his duty to give his siblings the attention they so craved.

"What did you do, Shorty?" Charlie asked, using his nickname for his brother in an attempt to get a laugh out of him.

"N…nothing," Fred stammered, crying even harder, forcing Charlie to look at George for an explanation.

"He didn't do anything, Charlie! Ron took his broomstick and broke it, so Freddie got angry and told Ron that he hated him! Ron started crying, so Mummy came and yelled at Freddie, saying that he was making a big fuss over nothing and that she didn't have the energy to deal with it." George paused briefly to catch his breath before continuing. "Then Ron took his teddy bear, and Freddie started crying because Ron was being so horrible to him! So then the teddy bear turned into a spider, and Ron started screaming," George rambled, starting to cry, himself. "And she thought that it was F…Fred, and wouldn't listen to me when I told her it was me! She even s-said that we're the most impossible kids e-ever!"

Charlie hugged both of them to him. It wasn't the first time he'd had to cheer up the crying twins, after all. "You're not impossible! You are my beloved pixies," he said stubbornly.

At that moment, he was so angry with his mother. Usually, if she punished one of the trouble-making twins, it was more or less well deserved, but this was completely unreasonable! The twins had wanted those baby broomsticks for as long as he could remember, and finally, last year, they received them as a birthday present. The first week after receiving them, they had even slept with them! Besides, Molly had never punished them for accidental magic before, always saying that it was a moment to be cherished.

"Mum doesn't want us, Charlie," Fred said sadly, snuggling up to his brother.

"What are you talking about? Mum loves you very much and wouldn't give you away for anything!"

"No" George disagreed. "She only plays with Ron and Ginny, and all she ever does is yell at us."

Charlie wasn't a child anymore. He understood why his mum found it so difficult to devote time to the twins.

From his own experience, he knew that it isn't easy to look after two toddlers. When he had looked after Fred and George, he'd had Bill with him, so he knew that his mother had it much harder. However, as much as he knew this, sometimes even he started to feel a little neglected.

"Mum doesn't play with me either. Do you know why?" Charlie tried.

"Because you're too old for playing?" asked George.

"Yes. And she doesn't play with Percy either."

"But Percy doesn't like playing," said Fred.

"Yes, but it's also because she believes that he is too old for her to play with him. Just like you guys! You're big boys now. You can take care of yourselves, can't you?

"Charlie," George interrupted him seriously. "We're only a bit big. She should still play with us sometimes."

"And Mummy is always so nice to Percy!" added Fred, scowling.

"Don't be silly, Fred. She absolutely adores you both! She bought you those broomsticks you wanted, didn't she?"

"No," Fred disagreed. "We only got them because of Daddy. Mummy didn't even want us to have them.

"Of course, she wanted you to have them! Don't tell anyone this, but she told me she was thrilled that they could get them for you. She just loves you very much and was so scared that you would hurt yourselves! Think about all the times you've both been ill, and she's sat at your bedside, looking after you! She just doesn't have as much time these days with so many of us around." Charlie tried to explain, wishing, for the hundredth time that day, that Bill were there to help him.

"I have an idea," Charlie said suddenly. "I'll show you what I found today."

"What?" they asked curiously, looking up at Charlie, distracted by the sudden change in topic.

"You'll both like it, but you have to promise me something first. Firstly, you have to be well behaved at dinner, and you have to eat everything on your plate without making a fuss."

"Okay, okay, Charlie, just show us already!" they whined impatiently.

"Secondly," he continued, continuing as if they hadn't spoken. "You can't poke or hurt it in any way."

"Oooh, it's alive? What did you find?"

"I'll show you later. Do we have a deal?" Charlie asked in mock sternness.

"Yeah!" The twins replied, looking at each other with identical grins on their faces.

"Okay, let's go. Wash up, and we can go down for dinner."

Charlie stood and placed Fred on the bed. He bent down to Fred's level and looked him in the eye before asking, "Are you sure you're alright, Freddo?"

When Fred nodded, Charlie ruffled his hair before taking each twin by the hand and leaving the room.

XXX

After a trip to the bathroom, which resulted in all three of them having wet shirts, they went downstairs to the kitchen.

"Charlie, you aren't a child anymore. You should be helping me! Why is Ginny still filthy when you promised that you'd help her get ready for dinner?" His mother started yelling as soon as she saw them.

Molly lifted Ginny up, who was smearing a chocolate frog all over her face, in an attempt to eat it. "And look at the three of you," she sighed, looking at her boys in resignation before pointing her wand at each of them and casting a drying spell.

"Right, you boys set the table. Freddie, honey, you can go and tell Percy that dinner is ready," she said, looking over at one of the twins.

"I'm not Fred, Mum, I'm George," said the boy, crossing his arms. "Honestly, Mum, aren't you able to tell us apart yet?"

"Oh, sorry, Georgie, dear! Run along then!"

"Only joking, I am Fred!" he shouted and ran upstairs.

When Molly left the kitchen with Ginny in her arms, Charlie looked over at Fred with concern and saw that he once again had tears in his eyes.

"Freddie…" Charlie started, only to be cut off by Fred.

"It doesn't matter, Charlie. We're almost identical. Most people can't tell us apart anyway!" mumbled Fred, trying to sound indifferent, but it came off as pitiful instead.

"Come on, let's set the table before Mum gets back," Charlie sighed.

XXX

When Molly returned, Charlie had already sat Ron in his highchair and joined his brothers at the table. Molly served them dinner before sitting down to feed Ginny. Ron was at the stage where he insisted on eating by himself, but most of the food ended up on the table or floor rather than in his mouth. Molly, with a smile on her lips, was feeding Ginny while she was listening to Percy, who was telling her all about the adventures of Martin Miggs. On the other side of the table, Fred was fidgeting on his chair, trying to find the most comfortable position. The twins were listening to Charlie as he told them about his day with the muggle children in the village. The moment the door opened and Arthur entered the house, the twins bolted from their seats.

"Daddy! Daddy's home!" they shouted, jumping up to hug him before dragging him to the table.

XXX

An hour later, in Charlie's room, the twins stared incredulously at the kneazle, which was sticking out its tongue and drinking the water from the saucer.

"What are you going to call it, Charlie?" Fred asked, continuing to watch the kneazle with wide eyes.

"What about Kneazle?" grinned George.

"Oh, of course, I'll just call you Wizard then, shall I, Georgie?" Charlie replied, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"What about Harry Potter?" Fred proposed.

"Nah, too long."

"Hey, what about Pixie?" George asked, jumping up from the bed in excitement.

All three of them looked at each other and grinned.

XXX

Charlie was sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting until Mr Weasley finish his everyday ritual of reading stories to his younger children and tucking them in. Charlie slipped in once he had left the twins.

"Hey," he whispered, coming up to the bed and turning on the night light. "Are you sleeping yet?"

"No," they responded simultaneously, looking up at him owlishly and blinking at the sudden light.

"Good, I brought you some salve for your bruises, Freddie," Charlie whispered, placing the salve in Fred's outstretched hand. "I'll bring it back for you tomorrow," Charlie told him gently, watching as Fred applied it to his bruised bottom with a small moan.

"Wow, how did you get that, Charlie? The cabinet is locked!" George asked in admiration.

Charlie took a hairpin from his pocket and held it up for the twins to see. "Most wizards think that muggle things are a waste of time, but I've always known that they have skills worth learning! I'll teach you this one tomorrow if you like!"

"Charlie, you're the best brother in the whole world," Fred replied, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, we love you!" George whispered, snuggling down under the covers.

"I love you too, my Pixies. Goodnight."

"Night!" they both replied, closing their eyes.

Just as he was closing the door, he heard Fred call, "Charlie, don't go to Hogwarts. Stay with us."

"You know I have to. But I promise I'll write to you whenever I get the chance!"

XXX

Twelve years later

"I don't believe it! I just don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful, you're a prefect! That's everyone in the family, now!"

"What are Fred and I then, the next-door neighbours?" George grumbled indignantly as his mother brushed past him to fling her arms around her youngest son.

"Wait until your father hears. He'll be so proud of you! Oh, I'm so proud of you! You're well on your way to becoming Head Boy, just like Bill and Percy! Oh, what a lovely thing to happen in the middle of all this drama, I'm just thrilled, Ronnie –"

Fred and George were both laughing at their younger brother and making loud retching noises behind her back. Mrs Weasley, however, didn't notice, as she was too busy kissing Ron all over the face, which had turned a brighter red than his prefect badge.*

*(Harry Potter and Order of Pheonix)