One month has passed since the trip to Hogwarts. Charlie and Eleri live in a flat not far from the Burrow. Charlie works occasionally at Hogwarts, but Eleri has put off getting a job. Charlie fears that this is because she's planning on going back to Romania soon, but he can't bring himself to broach the topic. It's the only thing he really couldn't handle right now. He thinks.
They are spending Sunday afternoon at the Burrow because this is what they do now. He wishes he were sitting with Eleri, but his mother cornered him the moment they walked in, and he has no choice but to find out what's obviously bothering her.
"He's back at work, but … I don't know. Something still seems to be upsetting him most nights," Molly whispers.
Charlie nods vaguely, but what he's really doing is watching Eleri and Fleur and wondering how they've gotten to be such close friends.
He's still musing about it when his mother's whispering becomes even more insistent.
"Charlie, he sits around all night doing nothing. He won't stay in his flat anymore, but he doesn't want to sleep in his bedroom here either. He falls asleep on the couch and then Percy or your father gets him to his bed."
Her words start to sink in, and he turns to her.
"Why won't he stay in his flat?"
Molly shrugs, but her eyes are miserable. "I haven't been able to ask him. I was wondering if you…"
She trails off, but Charlie knows what she is asking, and he knows he cannot say no to her even though there is nothing he wants to do less than go there. He still has not been able to bring himself to go to that shop. But…
"I'll go see him later today," he finds himself saying, and while he is glad that his mother looks relieved, he isn't. He isn't ready for this. He wants to know why she hasn't asked Bill. But then he looks at his older brother, and the pain in his eyes, and he knows. It's up to him.
He knows one thing as he and Eleri apparate back to their own flat. He's afraid. He doesn't want to do this, and he definitely doesn't want to do this by himself. But he tells himself he's being ridiculous. He might have managed to avoid it all this time, but that doesn't mean he can't go. He can go. He can do this.
He doesn't really want to tell Eleri; he feels like he brings her down enough as it is, what with his problems sleeping most nights, so he pretends he has to go to the ministry to talk to Percy. It's one of the few places where he doesn't worry that she'll want to accompany him.
He's right, and the next night, he's standing on his own in front of the joke shop, and for some reason, his feet seem to be stuck to the cobblestones.
He's still staring straight ahead when he realizes that he's no longer looking at his own reflection but at another face, very similar to his own, that is staring back at him through the dusty window. He quickly forces a smile, but it fades quickly when George disappears. If he's coming to the door, that means he's probably going to expect Charlie to come inside…
And then he is in the doorway, and he's forcing a smile of his own as he beckons for his older brother to enter. Charlie's throat feels very dry, and he tries unsuccessfully to swallow as he finds his feet moving him to the door.
Walking in isn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. For some reason, they are the only people there, and he glances quickly across the shelves, trying to murmur his approval, but the words die in his throat when he comes to the photo.
It is posted up behind the register, and it is of the twins in their magenta robes, their arms slung around each other's shoulders, their heads tilted back in laughter. As he watches, they grin at each other and then get into a shoving match.
He has to turn away quickly from the photo, from George. But George doesn't notice. He's trying to keep up a lively chatter, and so it isn't until he turns back from where he's been pointing out the shelves of Canary Creams that he realizes his brother is no longer listening and that he's standing very, very still.
"Ch – Charlie?" he asks, but Charlie won't turn around. He can't. He's here to make George feel better. This… this won't make George feel better.
But … he hears a sound that forces him to turn. George has sighed shakily and is now leaning against the register, staring with glazed eyes of his own at the photo. He glances at Charlie and says hoarsely, "Sometimes… sometimes I even manage to forget it's there."
Charlie nods but doesn't speak. He's afraid to. If he keeps his mouth tightly shut, though, he can be supportive. He grasps George's shoulder and feels his younger brother's slight trembling, but as his grip tightens, George lets out a sound that's something between a whimper and a sob, and then, suddenly, the bell over the door rings.
George freezes, and before Charlie can say a word, he bolts for the back. Charlie lets out a deep breath as he turns toward the very confused-looking customer. Clearly, it's now up to him to speak to her. (He hopes he can remember enough from his brief stint at Quality Quidditch Supplies many years ago.)
"Can I help you?" he asks, and his voice hardly sounds like his own, but this woman doesn't know him, so she merely blinks owlishly behind large spectacles and asks about muggle magic tricks. Apparently, her son wants fever fudge, but she will not buy him anything that would allow him to miss class. Charlie winces inwardly, feeling sympathy for the poor boy, but this is an easy sale, so he shows her some playing cards and rope tricks, and a few moments later, she's on her way.
The moment she's gone, Charlie locks up behind her and turns the sign to "closed." Then he sighs and walks to the back where he is unsurprised to find George standing in the corner, slumped against the wall, his head down. Charlie knows without even asking that this is where George stopped when he walked into the room and that he hasn't been able to move any farther.
"Come on," he says softly, taking him by the elbow. George can't even protest as Charlie guides him up to the flat, and it isn't until they are halfway through the door that George starts shaking uncontrollably.
"I – I can't," he stutters, and Charlie suddenly remembers Molly's words – that George won't stay in his flat anymore – and he wants to hex himself for doing this to him.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "We – we can go. Do you want to go back to the Burrow? I'll side along you."
But George is shaking too hard for either of them to apparate anywhere, and before Charlie realizes what's happening, George has wrenched out of his grasp and is stumbling toward his bedroom. Charlie stares after him for a moment, and he wonders if George really wants him there anymore anyway –maybe it would be better for him to just leave now – but then he hears the sound he always dreads. He forces himself to walk into the other room – and stops short.
George is lying face down on a bed, and Charlie knows, once again, without knowing how, that it is NOT his. And now the lump is back in his throat, and he wishes he'd just gone home. But his feet carry him over to where George's shoulders are now shaking violently, and he sits beside him gingerly and puts his hand on his back.
His touch seems to trigger something, and George turns over. For a moment, he and Charlie stare at each other, and then George whispers, "It – it doesn't smell like him anymore. I wanted it – I want it to smell like him."
And then he rolls over again. Charlie tries to take a deep breath, but it hitches in his throat, and he is suddenly glad that George has his face shoved into the pillow because the tears are now rolling down his face, and he doesn't want him to see. He doesn't want anyone to see.
But he doesn't realize how much noise he is making; he doesn't expect George to roll over again; he doesn't know how it happens, but George has his arms around him, and they are crying together for the first time he can ever remember. And he's glad he stayed.
A/N: Oh, I am SO sorry for the TREMENDOUS delay, but I have FINALLY finished up my work for the year. Lots of time to write now! Expect quicker updates on this AND Weasley Family Heartbreak, for sure. Please read and REVIEW! I'm back!