Spring 1991
Ronald Weasley
Ron sat in Percy's room, the entire place clean except for the desk which he had unceremoniously taken over. A dozen of Percy's books laid across the surface along with a fresh jar of ink and a dozen or so bent and crooked quills. He had a book of his own too, a leather-bound journal that he had managed to find tucked away in the attic. In his book Ron had made poor imitations of Percy's drawings, as well as making large blackened scratches in the general movements of spells.
Percy seemed to enjoy writing which made Ron's plan quite a bit harder. There were many journals, one each for every main subject of most of Percy's years as well as several more personal interests. Ron particularly liked the drawings in the book that Percy had written about enchantments. His brother was not a Quidditch fanatic like Ron, but he had written several passages on the prospect of making a broom. It was a complex process that involved physical creation with magical ingredients, a mix of potions, enchanting, and charming. Something that Ron was keen to try when he eventually joined the Gryffindor team. That is of course, if he managed to save Charlie first.
Ron flicked over the last page of the last book, his hands almost instantly searching for the next. He had looked over all of the first year journals, studying the drawings and very occasionally reading the passages. To Percy's credit, Ron figured that his brother could one day be a published author. What little Ron had read seemed to be just as boring and uninspired as anything else he had ever tried to read.
Ron frowned, the books in front of him offering nothing new. It should have been a moment of triumph or perhaps something more. He almost expected weightlessness and a revelation of what exactly was next. But there was nothing next, just waiting. He couldn't practise anything without a wand and he needed to practise, he desperately needed to practise.
"Ron?" A voice called. Shivers ran down Ron's back. He closed his eyes hard, he didn't want to see him die again.
"Ron?" The voice asked again, louder. Still, Ron kept his eyes shut. His breath felt hollow.
A hand reached out and touched Ron's shoulder. He jumped to his feet and kicked over the chair in the process. It clattered against the floor with a loud bang. Ron's eyes landed on his brother's face.
Charlie was stocky with large muscled arms and long flowy red hair. He looked like a Weasley should, and most importantly to Ron, he didn't look the same as in his prophecy. Ron's heart started beating again and the colour returned to his skin. He threw himself forward, and wrapped his arms around Charlie's torso. He's okay.
"Ron… I can't… breathe." Charlie complained, and Ron loosened his grip slightly.
"I'm just so glad you're alive," Ron blurted. It earned him a strange look from Charlie and an awkward laugh.
Ron dropped his arms and took a small step back. He looked back up at his brother's face. The relief he had been looking for washed over him.
"I decided to come home for a while," Charlie said. "I've got a Portkey back to Romania on the same day you'll be going to Hogwarts. You should have seen the look on Mum's face when I walked in the door," Charlie smiled.
"Why'd you come back?" Ron asked.
Charlie frowned a little. "I heard about what happened Ron. Mum wrote me when you were in the hospital and I decided then that I should come back for a few days. I'm sorry it took me so long, my boss was a real gnome about it."
Guilt washed over Ron's chest. "I'm sorry," Ron said but it was half-hearted. He might have caused Charlie problems but at least he knew he was safe.
Charlie laughed. "Don't be sorry for having an accident unless you tried to freak everyone out," he said lightly. "Besides, you're stuck with me now so you might as well enjoy it."
"So," Charlie said gesturing around him, "why are we destroying Percy's room? You're not helping the twins with a prank are you?" He flopped onto Percy's bed, and dislodged the covers.
"I'm learning, I guess" Ron replied, he stacked the book he had been reading into two others. "I'm looking at some of Percy's drawings and trying to learn the wand movement for some spells."
Charlie scrunched his nose. "Studying? Ron, you haven't started yet and you're already worrying about that? You're going to be worse than me, Bill and Percy combined."
Ron snorted. "I haven't really been reading them, just looking at the pictures. I just want to be a great wizard."
Charlie frowned. "It's because of your nightmare isn't it?"
Ron's entire body filled with ice. "I don't know what you mean," he lied.
"Mum told me," Charlie said with a shrug. "She said you thought that I died. I just want to know about your nightmare Ron, because it might help if you talk to someone. If you're still thinking about it."
Ron swallowed, the words seemingly stuck in the back of his throat. He had avoided telling anyone about it. His parents knew, of course, he had foolishly mentioned it as soon as he woke up in the hospital. He also told Percy some of it, only enough so he understood why Ron was so eager to learn. He wasn't sure it was an entirely good idea to tell anyone else, he didn't want anyone to discover that he might be a seer, and he didn't want them to worry as much as they already did. Of course, he has definitely not told anyone that it still haunted him every time he blinked.
"I do talk to someone," Ron whispered. He didn't know why he said it. Lies seemed to be quicker on his tongue since Autumn.
Charlie nodded. "Still, if you need someone to speak to then I'll always listen. Even when I go back to Romania, you can write as often as you want. Well," he shrugged his shoulders, "don't write too much. Errol is getting pretty old."
Ron frowned, he didn't want Charlie to return to Romania. It seemed like a far and distant place where Ron could never hope to protect him. There wasn't much choice in the matter, Britain had no dragon reserves. He shook his head, he had to remind himself that his vision included his entire family together at once. Charlie was probably safer in Romania. If he knew…
"Alright," Ron decided. He told Charlie the entire story up until he woke up in the hospital. After all, it was Charlie who had died and he deserved to know even if Ron didn't want him to. Maybe he would be safer then.
Charlie stared at the ceiling, his eyes drifted from one corner to the next. "I didn't even see it happen?" he asked
Ron wasn't sure. "No, I don't think so."
Charlie nodded with a small smile. "Well, then I suppose that's all I could hope for. They'll teach you in Hogwarts, but the killing curse is instantaneous. A much nicer way to die than many other spells. Sure, they say it rips out your soul but I'd rather the killing curse than being burned to death by a dragon."
The colour drained from Ron's face. He preferred if Charlie didn't die in either of those ways. "Is being a dragon tamer that dangerous?" he asked.
Charlie laughed. "Only if you're a bad one, but it's mostly safe. Safer than whatever was going on in your dream. Although being a guard at Azkaban is probably safer than whatever that was."
You don't care?" Ron asked quietly. For some reason, he had almost expected Charlie to take as much interest as he did just not for the same reason. Ron's eyes drifted to the ceiling. A bright green serpent danced across his eyes it crossed into reality from his memories.
"No," Charlie shrugged again. "I care that you're having a hard time dealing with the content but it doesn't concern me past that. I'm a dragon tamer in Romania, I'm not a dark wizard fighter here in Britain. Although," he tilted his head slightly, "Nyphadora joined the Auror academy and I'm sure she'll be asking after me."
Ron's eyes widened.
Charlie placed a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulder. "I won't. I'm a dragon tamer, Ron, it's what I was born to do. I won't die to a dark wizard and I certainly won't die in England."
Ron's throat felt dry, he wasn't even sure if his vision had taken place in England.
