A/N: Well, this week I got my Pottermore welcome letter and lost several hours of time I should have been doing other things while playing. I'm GlowAvis204 (and a Gryffindor - who knew?), please add me because at the moment I'm woefully friendless. Thanks.

February 2000

"We need to talk."

It was never a good way to start a conversation. Charlie sat down at the kitchen table, opposite where Harry was sat staring into a teacup like it might hold the key to his future and held out his hand to take the delicate china.

He determined quickly that this must have been his mother's contribution to setting Harry and Ron up in the flat together; most of the mugs were thick, sturdy, not like this floral patterned chinaware.

The dregs of Harry's tea remained in the cup and Charlie swirled it three times with his left hand then turned it over to drain. He'd read the leaves once Harry had told him whatever it was that needed to be told.

"Okay," Charlie said.

Finally, Harry raised his eyes.

"They're sending me away."

"Where?" he asked calmly.

"On a trip. Mission. Whatever."

"Where?" Charlie repeated.

"The Far East."

Sighing heavily, Charlie picked up the teacup and turned it over. Yep. Sure enough, there it was. "You want to go, though," he said gently.

"I... I... fuck," Harry said, slamming his hands down on the table. "This is so fucking unfair."

"Is Ron going?"

"Yeah. And Neville. And Padma Patil."

"Wow. That's like, half of your training group."

"Don't, Charlie," Harry said, shaking his head. "Don't be nice or I'm going to break down."

"Okay. How long until you go?"

"Two weeks."

"And how long will you be gone for?"

Harry took a deep breath and blew it out in a long huff. With his fingers in his hair - something Charlie recognised as a sign of frustration rather than distress - he said: "A year. Maybe more."

To that confession, something lodged itself in Charlie's sternum. It was hot and hard and uncomfortable, pressing in until he felt sick and dizzy. "Oh."

"Yeah. Fucking 'oh'."

"I'll miss you."

Later, when they woke up, Charlie rolled Harry over and curled around his body. Despite being the shorter partner by about four inches, Charlie was broader, his arms stronger and torso wider. It meant that while enfolded in those strong arms, Harry always felt safe.

"I don't want you to wait for me again," Charlie whispered, his breath warm on Harry's shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"We've only been sleeping together for a few weeks. I can't ask you to wait for me this time. If we promise to be faithful for the next year... or however long, one or the other of us will end up cheating. Be faithful to me here-" he flattened his hand over Harry' s chest, "and the rest doesn't matter."

"You're telling me to go fuck other people." Harry's voice held the weight of his incredulity.

"I'm telling you to go and live your life, Harry. You've waited for me already, not knowing if I'd be there when you came back. This time I'm telling you I'll be here, I'll still be here when you get home, but whatever happens when you're on the other side of the world to me doesn't matter."

It took Harry a while to absorb this, his fingers playing over the back of the hand that was still pressed over his heart.

"I want you to have me before I go. I want you to be my first."

Charlie's lips stretched into a smile as they pressed into the back of Harry's neck. "I'll be your first... when you get home."

"Oh, that's so unfair!" Harry exclaimed as he rolled over. His outburst finally drew a laugh from Charlie.

"Is it?" Charlie rearranged himself on the bed so they were practically nose to nose.

Recognition rearranged Harry's features. "Oh. You don't want anyone else to have me."

A light kiss confirmed his statement.

"When you get home."

"And for now?"

Charlie rolled over again, braced his forearms on the bed, spread his knees wide and rocked his hips back. Looking back over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow in a suggestive invitation.

"Yeah, I think I can just about manage that," Harry murmured. Then he stopped thinking.