Charlie knows he's hurting Eleri with his silence, but he doesn't know how to break it.
He's been silent for a week now, ever since they moved back into their rooms near the dragon reserve, and he just can't seem to open his mouth. He's been tempted on occasion. It's not that he doesn't have things to say – he has plenty of things to say. But he's afraid to say any of them. He's afraid to even think any of them. So it's safer if he doesn't talk. He keeps repeating that to himself.
Eleri hardly knows what to make of this silence. She's starting to wonder if she made a mistake suggesting this, that he come back with her, but she still can't imagine being here without him, so she just wakes up in the morning, eats her breakfast, goes to the reserve, and then comes home.
They see their friends sometimes, but that doesn't happen too often because Charlie is finding it hard to speak to anyone – and as ashamed as she is of the sentiment, Eleri is actually happy about that. It's the only consolation she has when she wonders if he loves her anymore.
The only people Charlie wants to talk to are in a tall, crooked house in Ottery St. Catchpole. He sends owls everyday, writing more in this week than he did in all the years he lived here after leaving Hogwarts.
And when he and Eleri sit down to dinner on their eighth day back in Romania, he takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and swallows with an audible click. In the back of his mind is the letter he's just received from his mum, and he almost hears her voice when he thinks of her closing words… "It doesn't seem like you're very happy to be back there, dear. Your father and I will always keep your room for you if you ever want to come home."
Eleri hasn't even looked up from her plate at the sounds he's just made, and he realizes that he's going to have to speak if he wants to get her attention. He wonders how he's going to say this. He wonders if it's going to hurt. He wonders if she'll think of it as a defeat.
He has no choice. He forces his mouth open and manages to say "El…"
Now she looks up with a start, and in spite of the fact that she's just spooned some pudding into her mouth, her jaw drops slightly. For a moment, they just stare at each other, and then she closes her mouth, swallows, and says flatly, "You're going back, aren't you?"
He flushes and only manages to look at her for another moment before he's forced to look away. There is a longer silence now, and then Eleri says, her voice brittle, "When will you leave?"
Charlie finally looks up at her again, and he shrugs, but he almost wishes he could take the words back. The pain in her eyes – as much as she's trying to hide it – hurts him, and he wishes there were some way for both of them to be happy, but he knows that's not possible. She needs to be here, and he – he knows now that he needs to be with his family. He takes another deep breath.
"I guess I have to talk to a few people, let them know I'm going, and then… I guess I'll leave in a couple of days."
Her intake of breath is audible to both of them, and her eyes are glistening when she looks at him now. But her jaw is set, and Charlie knows she won't let him see what he's done to her – not if she can help it, that is.
"I'll help you pack," she manages to choke out, and then she shoves her chair away from the table and stalks from the room, slamming the bedroom door so hard that the walls rattle. He feels as if he's lost his breath, and he sits at the table, staring at the food he's hardly touched. He's made his decision … so why does he suddenly feel so numb? Shouldn't he at least feel relieved?
For the next two days, Charlie wonders why he didn't just leave immediately. If he thought things were strained with Eleri before, that was nothing compared to how they are now. Before, at least, she'd try to talk to him, try to make him feel better. Now … now it just seems like she's entirely given up. She hasn't said a word to him since that dinner, and when he went into their bedroom that night, he found all of his clothes stuffed into a suitcase, the top unceremoniously jammed closed.
Not only is she not speaking to him, but she's not looking at him either. And he knows this because now that he knows he's going, he can't stop looking at her. He is trying to memorize her face, her mannerisms, anything he can, and he knows she must be aware of his attentions, but she's given no indication of that. Charlie is reminded of that wireless his father used to fiddle with in his shed. It's as though Eleri has a switch, and she's turned it off. Charlie is no longer on her radar, and he can't believe how much this hurts.
But the day finally arrives when he is to leave, and when he stumbles out of the bedroom to pour himself a coffee, he sees that she hasn't gone to the reserve yet. She is sitting on the couch, her arms wrapped her around her legs, her long dark hair shielding her face, and she is very, very still.
Charlie approaches her slowly, holding his mug tightly in one hand, and when he sits beside her, she suddenly turns and looks directly at him for the first time in days.
"I'm sorry," she says, and her voice is harsh. He stares at her for a moment in complete bewilderment.
"For what?" he asks, genuinely confused.
She looks at him for a long moment and then shakes her head. She stares directly at the wall in front of her as she continues.
"It's my fault that you came back here in the first place. If I'd just let you be, you'd still be with your family, and I wouldn't have put you through all of this."
Charlie stares at her then, and he puts down the mug, reaching over to take her hand. He squeezes it tightly until she looks at him, and then he says, "I had to come back here to know where I needed to be. I should be thanking you. I'm just…" he trails off. He wants to tell her that he wants her to come back with him, but he knows instinctively that this is not an option. This is her home, just like the Burrow is his.
But she nods. "I know," she whispers, and now he hears the tears in her voice, and he has to let go of her hand. He can't do this, not now, not when he's leaving so soon. He wants his last image here to be of her smiling even though he knows the fact that it's the last image means it doesn't matter. No matter how he remembers her, it will never be enough if it's only a memory.
He rushes into their room and grabs his suitcase. Eleri looks at him when he comes back out and tries to force a smile, and he knows she understands. He forces his lips to curve into what he hopes is a smile of his own, and she stands and goes to him, wrapping her arms around him suddenly and tightly.
"I love you," she says, and he hears the tears again. He squeezes her for a moment before he whispers, "I love you too," and then he quickly releases her and grabs his things.
She is standing forlornly in the middle of their living room when he goes, and even though she is still trying to smile, the tears are slipping down her cheeks, and his image of her blurs as he quickly closes the door. He swipes at his eyes quickly and then hurries to find the portkey. It's time to go home.
And it is a relief but not nearly as much as he'd thought it would be. His parents welcome him with open arms, and Ginny flies to him the moment he walks back through the door, murmuring something about how happy this will make George. Ron gives him a quick awkward hug in the living room, and Percy claps him on the shoulder when they pass on the stairs. And it turns out Ginny was right –George even manages a half-smile at dinner that night. But even though his mum's cooking is as stellar as it's ever been, Charlie still has a problem shoving food down his throat. He can't understand why.
He is up in his room, unpacking, when there's a knock on his door. He doesn't really want to see anyone, but he's home now, and this is what he came back for, isn't it? His family? So he mutters for whoever it is to come in, but he doesn't turn around. And then there's a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up into Bill's face, and without knowing why, he finds himself mumbling, "I – I made her cry when I left."
He has to look away. His eyes are burning, and even though he knows Bill will understand, he still doesn't want him to see. But the pressure of Bill's hand increases, and Charlie finds himself turning back against his will even as his chin trembles.
"I'm all right," he tries to say, but it comes out as a garbled sob, and then he hardly knows how it happens, but Bill is holding him tightly, and he can't seem to stop crying.
That is the last and only thing he ever says to anyone about Eleri. He knows that Fleur wants to ask, but he knows Bill has told her not to. Charlie is grateful. He needs to move on. Not talking – well, it's the only way he knows how.
A/N: Well, I needed to write this for myself before I get to the next chapter of WFH, and those of you following that saga will understand why, I'm sure. This might still have another chapter or so to go, but it might not. I'm not sure yet. In any case, please read and REVIEW!!