Chapter Eight: Weekend with William

MUGGLE DEATH CONNECTED TO WIZARD FAMILY

Rose Abbott (nee Harris) of Warwickshire is the latest Muggle victim in a string of Death Eater murders that has plagued the country since the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A devoted wife, mother and pillar of her Muggle community, it is a large loss felt deeply through her neighbourhood and puzzled upon by wizards.

While Muggle deaths have become commonplace in a reign of terror, what has captured attention is that Mrs. Abbott was married to known pureblood wizard, Mr. Thomas Abbott, and lived under many protective charms cast by her husband to ensure her safety in troubled times. The brazen mid-morning murder discovered by an elderly neighbour has shocked everyone and unsettled many who have been taking the same precautions that the Abbotts did.

"Are any of us really safe?" commented known government critic, Fitzwilliam Nott. "If our Ministry has made suggestions for our safety and they have proven to be ineffective through this tragic murder, can we truly put our trust into Minister Scrimgeour?"

The widower Abbott could not be reached for comments, but asked for privacy so that he could grieve with his teenage daughter.

A still photograph of the victim had been printed in The Romanian Horn beside the article, her gentle appearance adding another layer of sadness to the obituary of Rose Abbott. Long plaited blonde hair had been twisted into an elegant knot at the top her head, seeming to mark her with a purposeful halo. While there was no movement in the picture her eyes appeared to sparkle with life, making it difficult to imagine that she was truthfully dead as reported.

Simeon Slovensky looked at the watch on his left wrist before taking a glance out the car window. The sidewalk was filled with Muggles: mothers pushing their toddlers in prams, businessmen hurrying to get a bite of lunch before another meeting, and tourists lurking about with cameras in tow. Everyone outside seemed to have somewhere to be as they rushed about the street with a destination in mind, not even noticing the man in the car with a newspaper that had moving pictures.

The lack of a redhead in the crowd told him there was still time before he had to head back to the reserve. Folding up the newspaper and tossing it onto the passenger seat, he reached into the pocket of his thick dark jacket and pulled out a small foil-wrapped package. With his delicate fingers he got to the task of unwrapping the thin covering until the bar of milk chocolate was unveiled. Breaking off a single piece he laid it upon his tongue and simply let it melt. The flavours swayed in his mouth and danced their way down into his stomach, giving him a moment of pure bliss that had him shut his eyes off from his surroundings so as to focus on the chocolate.

When he opened his dark eyes again, he saw who he was waiting for walking down the road with a worn carpet bag in hand. The tall man was dressed well, a button-up shirt with slacks and a jacket hanging from his arm that would have not been out of place in the business district of Bucharest. However, his long red hair was swept into a ponytail that trailed behind him and a dragon fang dangled from one ear, marking him as someone who probably did not work in Muggle finance. Simeon opened the car door and stood so that the man could see him just as he was about to pass by without a second glance.

"Simeon?" the tall man asked in his English accent, his blue eyes narrowing slightly at the dark-haired Bulgarian.

"Yes, Mr Veasley," he greeted with a bow of his head.

"Oh please, call me Bill," requested the lanky redhead as he opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat with his bag on his lap.

Simeon slid back into the driver seat, offering another nod of acknowledgement to his honoured guest as he placed the key into the ignition and started the car. Assuring that it was safe, he pulled out onto the street and began to navigate the Bucharest streets to find his way out of the city and back to the familiarity of the rolling countryside and mountains.

"How are you?" Bill asked as the car turned a corner. "It has been some years since we last saw each other on my last visit. What's new?"

"Many things," the dark-clothed driver replied to the question as his eyes focused on the job of driving the Muggle contraption. "I trust you had a productive meeting vith the goblins of Gringotts."

"Oh, yes," answered Bill as he put his carpet bag onto the floor of the car, leaving his hands free to lean against the window. "Mind, it gets fairly difficult to have a business conversation in Gobbledegook. A few times I didn't know if we were talking about Galleons or Quidditch."

Simeon nodded, hoping the slight bob of his head was communication enough for his best friend's older brother. Polite small talk was not something he was particularly talented with while Bill seemed to be quite proficient in that area.

"How has Charlie been?" Bill continued to spur on their conversation, directing his blue eyes right at the driver.

A silence filled the cavity of the car. Simeon's hands tightened on the steering wheel as his lips pursed together. He checked his side mirror to merge into another lane, effectively avoiding the eyes of the passenger.

"Vell," he finally responded. "He vas sorry to not be able to come and get you…"

"I know about the attack," the redheaded man explained, taking his eyes off the Bulgarian dragon keeper and pointing them out his own window at the quaint cafés lining the streets. "Dumbledore told our family last week. You can tell me the truth, Simeon."

A second quietude fell between the passengers once again, the air around the two men becoming thick with tension as Simeon's knuckles became white. "I think it vould be best to hear from your brother himself."

Bill sighed, slumping his head against the headrest. "Speaking as a fellow member of the Order then, has anyone determined why the attack happened? Was his identity compromised?"

"Ve do not know the answers," the driver said cautiously. "So ve have taken the precautions as Dumbledore instructed."

The Weasley nodded at the reply as the Bulgarian turned onto the road that would lead them away from the bustling city as well as conversation. Quiet filled the space between the young men for the third time as the car continued down the paved highway, Bill staring blankly into the scenery without really drinking in the beauty. Silence was not unfamiliar to Simeon; in fact it was something he frequently preferred over mindless polite chatter. Unfortunately the sudden end of talk from the friendly brother of his best friend was more than Simeon could bear.

"So, I hear you are engaged," he commented begrudgingly. "How is the vedding planning going?"

A cool autumn breeze was blowing through the wooded mountain ranges as Charlie walked from The Nest back to the main building. The chilled air prickled across the exposed skin of his freckly face, making him grateful for the soft yellow knit jumper and bellyful of hot tea that kept his upper body warm. Passing the backside of one of the dormitory buildings and crossing into the courtyard, a handful of his colleagues had started their weekends already by making their way towards the empty field that they used as a makeshift Quidditch pitch with racing brooms in hand.

"Charlie!" Gustavo Garcia waved at him with his Cleansweep Five in hand. "You want to play Seeker for my team?"

A hard hand instantly found the back of Gustavo's head as his sibling and member of the research team, Lupe, gripped her broom tightly with both hands and prepared to smack sense into her older brother.

"I can't play today, actually," Charlie called out across the courtyard with a wave of his hand. "My brother is coming for a visit."

"Don't let me be your excuse, Seeker boy," a memorable voice called from the archway that led to the main building.

Charlie turned his head to look to the origin of the voice, where he found a long-haired young man leaning against the vine-covered wooden trestle. The tall and lanky figure took a few steps forward, leaving a worn carpet bag and jacket on the ground as he approached. For a second, Charlie swore he had stepped back in time as the man had a strong resemblance to old pictures he'd seen of his father before he'd settled down and had children. The difference was in the long ponytail of ginger hair and the dragon fang pierced into his right ear.

"I believe the proper name is Seeker man now," the dragon keeper responded with a playful smirk. "I did come of age almost seven years ago in case some ancient curse erased your ability to count."

"Well, that's clearly my excuse, what's yours?" Bill laughed, continuing to come close to his younger brother until he could pat the stockier Weasley on the shoulder and wrapped an arm around his sibling. "How are you doing, Charlie?"

"Good," the younger brother replied, putting his hands into his pockets. "I'm very good, Bill…"

"Dumbledore told us about the attack," the older Weasley interrupted in a low voice before his brother could ask how he was, "so tell me the truth about how you're doing."

Charlie rolled his brown eyes as he started towards the main building, passing beneath the intricate trestle that hid the courtyard from view as Bill picked up his luggage and followed a step behind. The dragon keeper turned and walked backwards in order to meet the eye of his only older brother. "I really am doing fine, Bill. Whoever attacked me did so without a wand so there was no serious injury that couldn't be fixed. I deactivated myself as a spy just to be safe, and while I don't like it, it is in the best interest of the Order and I accept that. That's the truth."

The older brother smirked from the corner of his mouth, draping his jacket over one shoulder as he shook his head. "You always say the noble thing when you're unhappy, you know?"

The contented smile on Charlie's face dropped as Bill began to speak. "Whenever you couldn't get your way as a kid, you put on your brave face and rationalise why that was for the best so that no one would feel bad for you. Mum used to say you were 'born Gryffindor' with such chivalry. I believe it's the truth when you say you've accepted your fate, but I don't know about being good with it all. So, I ask again, how are you doing?"

A sigh escaped from the dragon keeper's lips as he leaned against the wooden trestle and crossed his arms over his yellow jumper. "I've been better but honestly, Bill, the attack was two weeks ago and I've gotten past it. Abby has turned over her coordination duties to me, so I'm still doing my part for the Order. I promise that it is the full truth."

Bill pursed his lips together, his blue eyes gleaning as he looked with careful consideration into Charlie's own brown orbs as though he'd be able to detect some hidden fact written on the pupil. With a heavy sigh of his own, he pat the younger Weasley on the shoulder and suggested that his brother lead him to a cup of strong coffee as it had been a long meeting with the goblins.

They made their way to the mess hall, which only hosted a few workers who had come by for an afternoon caffeine boost in order to complete their days work. Far from the madness of mealtimes, it was relatively deserted. Seating themselves at a long empty table, Bill waved his wand and summoned two cups of coffee from the nearby serving area along with cream, sugar and two spoons to mix their preferred brew.

"None for me, thanks," Charlie declined as a cup whizzed by his face and landed on the table next to his hand without spilling a drop of the hot black liquid. He took out his own wand and sent the coffee back to its spot, where Tamara was quick to pick it up and walk out of the mess hall. "Now I can finally ask, how are you? How is Fleur? How is the family?"

"Everyone is well, though I believe they'll all be better once I write and tell them that you're fine," answered Bill as he stirred a small amount of cream into his mug, transforming the dark brew into a slightly lighter colour. "Mum nearly came to see you herself, you know."

"Sounds like Mum." Charlie shook his head and laughed. "I hope she didn't worry too much."

"Well, it really took the pressure off of the wedding, to be honest," his long-haired brother replied as he took a sip of his coffee. "Worrying about you, Mum had no time to complain about Fleur."

"Still having a time trying to win over the future mother-in-law?"

"Mum and Fleur just don't see eye-to-eye yet, but they will," Bill defended, "once they get to know each other more. They're both such loving and caring people, it will just take time…and perhaps a sedative for Mum."

Charlie laughed at the thought; Mrs Weasley had never approved of any of Bill's romantic relationships as far back as he could recall. Melissa Jones, a Ravenclaw Prefect he'd dated for a summer back in sixth year, was too controlling and demanding; his seventh-year girlfriend, Carrie Abbott, had no ambition beyond school and would surely drag down the Head Boy; and while she had never formally met Rose Markowitz, a Gringotts bank employee in Giza, she was certainly not good enough for her eldest son. Mrs Weasley was good to always keep her comments away from those young ladies' boyfriend, but the thought that she might accept her future daughter-in-law anytime soon was like the concept of a trained dragon.

"I did have to ask you something about the wedding though," the older Weasley interjected as his brother's snickers died down.

"Whatever it is, I agree with Fleur," Charlie said with a devilish smirk. "Happy wife, happy life."

"Not quite what I had to ask you." Bill took another sip from his coffee, breathing in the rich aroma before pressing on with his quest. "Charlie, I would like to formally ask you to be my best man."

"Really?" the dragon keeper laughed beneath his breath, shaking his head as his warm brown eyes sparkled mischievously. "Do you really not have any friends to ask?"

"Shut it, you're my brother," the elder argued back with a roll of his eyes as he took another sip from his drink.

"Not exactly a crucial prerequisite considering we have four others."

"Be serious for a moment," Bill exclaimed, silencing Charlie's audible snickers for the moment. He straightened his shoulders and stared sternly into the laughing eyes of his brother. "What's your answer?"

Mimicking his only senior sibling's austerity and channelling a bit of his unusually proper younger brother, Charlie quickly sat up straight in his seat. He threw his shoulders back and puffed out his broad chest, directing his dignified attention towards the important question he'd been asked. With the serious expression that his brother had asked for on his face he replied, "William Arthur Weasley, it would be an honour to serve as your best man."

Bill snorted derisively, shaking his head so that the dragon fang swung about on its metal link chain. He took another swig of his coffee and smiled at Charlie. "Now, was that so hard?"

"A bit," laughed Charlie, dropping his pompous demeanour quickly in favour of relaxing his body. "How does Percy do that constantly?"

"Well, Fred did once tell him to remove the stick from his butt," smirked Bill. "And...well, you remember how that turned out."

"Ah, yes," sighed Charlie, suppressing the laughter that was bubbling in his throat. "Fred's first sign of magic: having Dad's Muggle pliers chase Percy around the house trying to remove said stick."

Laughter erupted at the table just as he completed the sentence, the two finding it impossible to contain themselves any longer. Hearty chuckles from deep in the pits of their stomachs streamed out of their lungs and filled the near empty room, causing some of the researchers seeking mid-day caffeine jolts to give them a strange look before going about their regular business. As Bill collected himself and wiped tears from his eyes one look at Charlie sent him into another fit of giggles until it was no longer about an old memory of another brother, but rather that they simply enjoyed a good laugh.

The sun had become low in the sky after dinner; the last light of day painting a warm-coloured earth as it bid the world goodnight and allowed the moon to rule over the stars. Despite the cool autumn air, many were still outside enjoying the last remains of daylight as approaching winter would soon make them briefer. Abby and Charlie had opted for an evening stroll down the path to the magical border, while Bill had politely declined citing the need to write home. From the top of the main building where a small wooden Owlery was housed he sat with his back against the structure and a small blue flame at his side to shelter him from the cold.

Mrs Weasley had been insistent that her oldest son write as soon as possible to let her know that her second son really was all right following the attack and Bill wasn't about to deny his mother some peace of mind. For over a week since they'd heard the news he had been subject to his mother's constant worries over Charlie's health, threatening a few times a day to go to Romania herself to assure he really was in good physical condition. It took several reminders from Mr Weasley and Bill that Dumbledore had stated in his report that everything was fine and the Hogwarts Headmaster had no reason to conceal truth from them. Hearing it from Bill, however, would solidify it, and Mrs Weasley would breathe easier and start criticizing her future daughter-in-law again without that burden upon her.

Signing his name to the declaration that Charlie was indeed doing perfectly fine, Bill rose from his little warm spot on the roof, extinguishing the blue flame as he walked away, and entered the Owlery. The darkening night was awakening the nocturnal birds and it didn't take long for a large Barn Owl to volunteer herself for the task of flying all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole. Taking the magnificent creature out into the twilight, he handed the sealed letter to her, approached the furthest edge of the rooftop behind the Owlery and allowed her to use his forearm as a springboard into the evening air. He watched as the owl vanished into the shadows of the woods, and then heard the roof door open and shut with a heavy clunk.

"Oh, I hope Rachele will like her birthday present," said a feminine voice Bill recognized immediately as belonging to Bella Ribisi, a close friend of his brother. She was walking quickly towards the Owlery as her voice drew closer. "She is like her mother in many ways and Cousin Milena loved books when she was her age."

"It is the thought that counts," added the cool drawl of Simeon Slovensky from inside the wooden building.

Turning from where he stood, Bill saw the outline of the two figures emerge from around the building with a Tawny Owl perched upon the taller individual's shoulder. The shorter person held out a small wrapped package near the talons of the owl, who happily spread their wings and grasped the parcel before taking off into the rising moonlight.

The two lovers on the rooftop spoke quietly against the backdrop of sunset as Bill came closer to the building. He conspired to move himself to the opposite side of the Owlery, so as to not disturb their private moment, but as he went closer to the exterior wall he couldn't help but catch a snippet of their conversation even though he could no longer see the couple.

"Is Charlie staying with Bill in the dormitory guest rooms?" he heard Bella ask.

"I believe so," her boyfriend answered.

"Then maybe I should come over and keep you company. I'll pack a bag for the weekend."

"You live across the courtyard," Simeon said with a hint of a snicker at the end of his factual statement. "There is no need to pack."

There was a brief silence, the few seconds being enough time to tell both men on the roof that Simeon had said the wrong thing. While Bill had succeeded in moving himself to the opposite side of the Owlery and hoped he was now out of earshot, he had a feeling he was about to hear the remainder of this exchange.

"It is convenience," argued Bella, her voice becoming louder as Bill had expected it would. She was on the move again as well, her voice travelling back towards the rooftop door that would carry the couple back into the main building. "You certainly didn't complain when I stayed over while Charlie was in the infirmary. I practically lived with you for almost all of March and April."

"I am not complaining," Simeon trailed after her. "You just do not need vaste time packing. You live across the vay. And you think the boys' bathroom is gross anyvay. That vas vhy ve slept in your room sometimes."

"You could still show a little enthusiasm for a person who wants to spend more time with you!" rebuked the Italian researcher before her voice faded away behind the clunk of the rooftop door.

A couple's quarrel was no stranger to Bill Weasley; he and Fleur had their share of them behind closed doors, usually ending with some choice French words he didn't know the meaning of. While the two were probably still having heated words below, Bella and Simeon's problem wasn't his concern; most lover spats had a way of working themselves out without any intervention.

What concerned him more was that Charlie had stayed in the sanctuary's hospital for almost two months and he didn't know why.

Looking out into the forested area that shrouded the entrance of the Romanian International Dragon Reserve, he peered down to the dirt pathway and saw Abby emerge linked in arm with his younger brother. A few fall leaves had tangled into her long brown tresses, which Charlie immediately brushed away as he ran his fingers through her mane and down to her chin. Bathed in purple light from the fast-setting sun, they paused at the end of their road and moved closer in their embrace until the tips of her noses were pressed against each other.

Bill turned his head in the other direction and began to head for the rooftop door that would take him downstairs and back to the guest room he was occupying in one of the dormitory building. He had a weekend to find out what had been happening with Charlie and he fully intended to discover what his little brother was hiding from the family.

A/N: As always, trudging along. Recently found the chapter I'm currently into wasn't working and going back to think on it there needed to be a change in perspective and suddenly it works better.

It isn't said, but it is intended that the news article links to the actual events of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince when Hannah Abbott leaves school due to her mother's death. Context.

Return of the Weasleys. Originally I hadn't intended to write in other Weasleys besides Charlie in this story and any information Charlie had would come from letters, but given the close relationship the two oldest brothers supposedly had and how many references to the family in general there are it seemed odd to not have them interact, so it was time to bring in Bill to connect to his brother.

More on Bill and Charlie later...

Cheers.