Charlie Weasley usually had a thing for older men. Most of his dates were about five to ten years his senior, which might explain why they did not last long. Men at that age that he found in a bar usually were not looking for a relationship; they were looking for a quick fling. This never bothered Charlie, not until he returned home and he saw his family. He saw how his mother and father always fell into an easy rhythm. He saw how happy Bill and Fleur were with their little one. He saw how even though Hermione and Ron seemed to fight every five minutes, the rest of their time was spent being the world's most sickeningly cute couple. He saw how George and Angelina completed one another, and he wanted that. He wanted someone who would stay.

Harry groaned as Hermione nudged him awake. His whole body seemed to ache, but his head was receiving the worst of the torment. It was beating in time with the clock on the wall. His eyes felt as if they had liquidated inside his skull. "Harry, honestly," Hermione huffed as Harry rolled over, moaning at his own sorrows. "Molly told me to come wake you for breakfast, it should be done here shortly," she said, attempting to draw the male out of bed with promises of food. When that did not seem to stir him she released a dramatic sigh. "I guess I will just tell Charlie and everyone that you are incapacitated at this current juncture," she said, and at this Harry opened his eyes.

"It's Saturday Hermione, Charlie never comes until Sunday and that is only for dinner, but nice try," he huffed, shielding his eyes from the blinding light that seemed to be leaking from every crevice of his room. He really went overboard last night. How had he even gotten home?

"That is usually true, but Charlie has the week off at work and will be joining us. Maybe if you didn't sleep through breakfast almost every day you would have heard Molly talking about it."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, falling out of bed as he shuffled over himself. He was definitely going to puke.

"Must have slipped my mind, silly me," she said, a slight smirk making its way to her lips. Even with his face pressed to the carpet, Harry could hear it in her tone.

"You are a cruel woman, Granger," Harry huffed.

"You better hurry up and make yourself presentable before Molly finishes breakfast, you look like hell froze over," Hermione said before shutting Harry's door a little too loudly, causing Harry to flinch as the sound of wood on wood caused his skull to crack.

Five minutes later Harry stood to get ready for the day. He grabbed his clothes and made his way to the nearest bathroom which was, thankfully, empty. He proceeded to empty his stomach of any previous contents by regurgitating them into the porcelain throne. He felt like death as he crawled underneath the hot streams of water, groaning as his muscles cringed at the sudden attack.

He washed himself as quickly as his indisposed mind would allow and also scrubbed his tongue clean with a toothbrush. Twenty minutes later he crawled from the shower, feeling a bit refreshed. He made his way to the mirror and attempted to make himself presentable. He applied a magic solution to the bottom of his eyes that allowed the skin to rise and tighten, lessening the severity of the bags that resided underneath his eyes. He ran a bit of gel through his moistened hair that somewhat helped to make it look like the mop atop his head was just an odd fashion choice and not so much a stubborn wreck.

Harry trudged heavily from the bathroom. His clothes had been only half-hazardously thrown on to his body. Once he reached the stairs, however, his goal of making it to the kitchen was blocked. Charlie sent Harry a dazzling grin. "Morning Harry, we all thought you'd gone back to sleep. Hermione sent me to come check on you." Harry made a mental note to berate her later.

"Sorry, just a bit slow this morning. I might have had a bit too much to drink last night," Harry said, his face tinging pink against his own accord. He mentally cursed himself. Gods what was it about this man that caused him to lose all rational thought?

"S'alright. Come on, mum's got tea on and I have a potion that will help cure that throbbing skull of yours," Charlie said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulder and guiding him down the stairs. Harry tried to fight back an even stronger blush that seemed to be bleeding through his skin.

Most of the Weasleys had already cleared out of the kitchen. Harry saw his plate sat on the table, already covered in food, with an empty mug placed next to it. The only two left at the table were Hermione and Ron, who were speaking in hushed tones to one another. Charlie guided Harry to his seat and grabbed his mug. "I'll grab you some tea and then get that potion I was talking about," Charlie said, smiling softly at Harry before turning toward the stove.

"Morning Harry," Ron said in an obnoxiously loud tone. Harry cringed, his brain doubling in size as it pressed against all sides of his head. He felt the need to vomit again.

"Leave the poor prat alone Ron," Charlie said, his hand resting softly on Harry's back as he placed his tea on the table. "I'll be right back, gotta grab the potion." Charlie left the room, and Harry instantly turned daggers on Hermione.

"You're bloody evil, you know that?" Harry said, and Hermione simply grinned in response.

"I told you to hurry up. Charlie just happened to volunteer his services when I said I was going to go check on you," Hermione said, a knowing smirk playing her lips. Ron scoffed.

"More like Charlie offered to save you. Hermione looked like she was going to go up there and rip you a new one," Ron said, chuckling slightly. "I almost couldn't tell she was acting."

"I hate both of you," Harry groaned, poking his fork at his food.

"What are they doing now?" Charlie asked as he reentered the room, handing Harry a phial containing a shimmering blue liquid. "Don't worry love, just something to help with the nausea and the pulse that seems to have invaded your brain." Charlie sent him a striking grin and Harry felt as if he could just melt on the spot. "Fair warning though, the taste is wicked."

"As long as it helps," Harry murmured before popping the cap off and allowing the fluid to touch his tongue. He coughed almost instantaneously, his stomach lurching. He barely managed to swallow the liquid. As soon as it was safely past the barrier of his esophagus he quaffed a hefty portion of his tea, attempting to rinse the flavor from his taste buds. It was ghastly.

"I warned you," Charlie laughed, patting Harry on the back. Harry handed the phial back over to Charlie and instantly began to feel relief flooding his system. The pain in his head reduced itself to a minor thrumming and his nearly overwhelming urge to retch was subsiding. He was ecstatic. His taste buds, however, were nearly screaming.

"How long exactly does the aftertaste last?" Harry asked as he gulped down more of his tea. Charlie just chuckles, which is never a good sign.

"At least you're feeling better," Charlie beams, patting Harry on the back. Harry can't help but smile with gratitude and mentally curse himself as his heart gave a small quiver. It seemed just ridiculous now. It took him a moment to realize that Charlie's hand was still rested gently on his shoulder. Charlie seemed to notice this also and took his arm off, coughing before bidding the trio adieu.

"Oh Merlin, I'm pretty sure that's the eggs making their way back up," Ron coughed into his hand. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Sorry mate, but if I have to sit here and watch you to eye-fuck each other for one more meal I am going to jump out the upstairs window."

"Seriously mate, it's just sad at this point." Harry sighed, dropping his head into his hand as George's voice rang in his ear. "Even mum and dad are just waiting for it to happen now, and dad is the most oblivious man you will ever meet."

"Gods, is there anyone who doesn't know?" Harry exclaimed, finally turning to look at George. He shrugged, raising an eyebrow.

"Your press hasn't seemed to have figured it out yet, but other than that no." Harry groaned, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Hermione's nose scrunched in distaste.

"Honestly, you need to stop picking up your table manners from Ron." Harry just shot her another look over his fork before scooping another pile of eggs into his mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes before standing. "Well, I think we've all tortured Harry enough. Come on Ron, we have to meet Neville and Hannah for coffee in an hour and I am not letting you go out in public looking like that."

"What's wrong with it?"

"You have ketchup on the front of your shirt, Ronald."

"Point taken." The pair emigrated to the upstairs. Harry was left quite aware of the way George was staring a hole through his brain.

"Is there something you wanted to say?" he asked once he had swallowed all of his food.

"Alright Harry, all joking aside, don't let this go to waste. Both you and Charlie have feelings for each other, despite what you might think. Life is short, and you never know when you might lose someone. Be it to another person, or to another life. Just think on that for me, will ya?" George asked, not waiting for an answer before standing and leaving the table. Harry choked on his next bite of food. Ever since Fred's death George seemed to have gained an otherworldly knowledge of how things should work. Harry could already tell, this was going to be a long week.