"Snark" is a prompt from respitechristopher. The other two prompts come from chelsey, as does the choice of character in chapter XV. Enjoy!
XIII
(Charlie and Tonks – snark)
"Careful, can't you?"
"Sorry. It was an accident."
"I'd forgotten how clumsy you were."
"It never used to bother you."
"Who says it bothers me?"
Uncomfortable silence, and they both carry on eating. Eventually Tonks can bear it no longer.
"So, how are the dragons?" she asks.
Charlie jumps, spilling his tea on the table, slopping it over onto Tonks' plate.
"Now who's the clumsy one?" she demands indignantly.
"Me," he admits, holding up his hands, looking sheepish.
Tonks begins to laugh, and he does too.
They have been apart too long.
XIV
Lee - Sunday roast
Lee had always loved Sunday dinners at the Weasleys'. Mrs Weasley was - quite literally - the best cook in the world, even outdoing his Auntie Gladys, which was saying something. And she didn't believe in small portions, or in only one serving. And, of course, he would be there with Fred and George, who kept the meal lively and - interesting - whoever else might be there.
But today, he wasn't sure he wanted to go. He hadn't seen Mr and Mrs Weasley for a while. Not since Fred's funeral in fact, and that was not a day he wanted to dwell on or remember. And, while he was certain that the food would be as good as ever, and that the twins' mum would be as keen as ever to pile his plate and serve him second helpings, it would not be the same.
It could never be the same again.
He took a deep breath as he pushed the gate open and crossed the familiar yard to the door. Sunday lunch at the Weasleys' couldn't ever be a really bad thing - could it?
XV
Charlie - sickness
Charlie did not remember ever feeling quite as bad as this.
Well, there had been the time when he had Dragon Pox. And the time when he fell thirty feet off a broom during a scratch Quidditch match in the orchard, and was concussed for nearly a week, despite his mother's magical remedies. And the morning after the night before when he and Tonks and the rest of their year got their NEWT results. And an earlier one when he crashed Bill's year's NEWT party.
In fact, he could think of several mornings after the nights before when he had felt bad, bad, bad.
So what was the difference now?
He groaned and pulled the blanket up over his face, shielding his eyes from the light, which even on a grey November morning in Romania, was more than he could bear.
So what was different about feeling bad this time?
He rolled over onto his side; slowly; carefully. He saw the photo on his bedside table and realised what the difference was.
He missed his mum.