AN: Ah, finally a bit with my personal favorite Weasley!
Charlie was strolling the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole as the shadows began to get longer. Of course he too harboured a bit of worry and anger towards George, but he had given up denying for himself he was exited, too. After all, he would be able to watch, at close range, the effect of the Wolfsbane Potion and possibly the transformation back to human. A night out in free air wasn't against him, either. That was if all went as planned.
–
It was mid-afternoon and Nox still sat with the same cup of tea between her hands, staring out of the window at the weeds sprouting out in the yard and the litter of old wellington boots, doing her best to ignore Fred's ongoing one-man show.
"Hello, is this thing on?" he said, pretending to hold a microphone and tapping it with his finger. "Hello? I might as well be dead!" He finally succeeded in getting her to look at him, even if it was a glare.
"Can't you find someone else to harass?" she muttered moodily.
"Like who?" he asked innocently.
"I don't know, your mother?" she retorted. "Where is she, by the way?"
"Probably down in the cellar crying her heart out in her apron, that's where we found her after Bill was attacked," he said with a shrug.
"You are the most insensitive bastard on the planet, living or dead," she concluded and pushed the cup out on the middle of the table.
"And you have all the charm of a broken broomstick," he retorted, making her groan. The waiting was driving them both up the wall and they snapped their eyes to the door as it opened with a creak, looking for a distraction from each other.
"Charlie, old boy!" Fred threw his arms up in greeting as his second-oldest brother stepped into the room, nodded quickly to Fred before picking up the cup from the table and emptying it in one swallow.
"You weren't drinking that, were you?" Charlie asked, belatedly noticing Nox as he massaged his throat for a moment.
"I see where George gets his manners from," she replied dryly after a quick estimation of his red hair, broad shoulders and freckles. Charlie didn't seem to notice it as he sat down, took out a pack of menthol cigarettes from his jacket and placed one between his lips before searching for a lighter.
"Speaking of, how's he doing?" Charlie asked, the cigarette dipping up and down from the corner of his mouth as he talked, Nox's eyes following eagerly. "You want one?" He pushed the pack towards her and she hesitated for a moment, she had worked hard on quitting, but her nerves needed one to calm down. Charlie found the lighter and lighted hers before his own while Summoning a dish to use as ash tray.
"Your guess is as good as ours, we haven't heard a syllable, dear brother," Fred said. "What brings you here?"
"Portkey," Charlie retorted. "If you mean why I'm here, got a letter regarding George's sudden change of lifestyle." Even if his tone was light, his eyes were heavy with concern.
"You live far from here?" Nox asked to at least keep the silence in chess.
"Romania, work with dragons," Charlie told her and leaned back. "You?"
"Come from Scotland, work with that clot-head." A casual flicker of her hand indicated Fred and he put his hand to his chest, looking mortally offended. Charlie gave a heavy cough before inhaling deeply of the cigarette again. "Shouldn't you stop smoking with a cough like that?"
"No, these little babies actually help," he answered and tapped the pack with his knuckles. "Very minty and nice."
"I should known you were a weirdo since you're related to that." A jab of the thumb was all attention she spared for Fred now and he blew a raspberry at her as her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten for nearly twelve hours.
"Oh goodness, the monster is awake again," Fred said and covered his ears with his hands.
"Hungry? I could cook something up, if Mum's not around," Charlie offered, but Nox shook her head. "No, I'm starving myself, it's no trouble!" He was already up and looking for a frying pan.
"You can cook?" she asked a bit dubiously as he began cracking eggs into the hot pan.
"Well, I haven't killed myself yet," he told her honestly. In no time at all she was presented with a plate with two fried eggs, six pieces of warm sausage and three slices of toast. Charlie had the same, times two. "I said I was starving," he defended himself with before beginning to dig in.
"When aren't you starving?" Fred shot back.
"Why don't you go see how the chickens are doing, hmm?" Charlie asked with his mouth full, cocking a brow at his brother.
"No," Fred replied promptly.
"Why not?" Charlie kept his tone too friendly for Fred to like it and he folded his arms over his chest, refusing to answer at first.
"Because you keep flirting with my colleague," he said after several long moments of glaring.
"What?" Charlie and Nox said at the same time.
"Yeah, you just come waltzing in here, bragging about your work and asking about her and then cooking her a splendid meal! I'd say that's flirting," Fred concluded.
"Merlin's pants, Fred," Charlie chuckled, "you think I was flirting? It's called hospitality, something I think you could do good with learning a bit about. No, if I'd been flirting, I'd done this" – he picked up Nox hand in his own large and callused one, looked deep into her eyes and lowered his voice to a husky burr – "has anyone ever told you your eyes sparkle like the ocean on a moonlit night?"
"You're a bachelor, right?" she retorted dryly and freed her hand to pick up her knife again.
"However did you guess?" Charlie answered airy.
–
As Charlie began the walk back to The Burrow, the thoughts of what would happen if things didn't go as planned sneaked into his head. He tried putting off thinking of it, but he knew if the potion didn't work on George for one reason or another, they would be forced to bring him down. Firing strong spells at his brother was not something Charlie was comfortable with, he knew they could do permanent damage. Shooting a Stunning Spell to confuse a grown dragon was one thing, shooting a spell with the same strength at a werewolf would probably blast him across the room without doing much good. Still, he did his best not to worry about it unless the time came and he had to do it.