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katherinewilliams221b · 8 months

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Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 7: The Serch Bythol

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Summary: Two months after the war, the couple is more distant than ever. Kate accompanies her grandfather on a trip to Ireland, where her past and present will collide in unexpected ways. Charlie stays in Romania with a decision to make: will he follow her and uncover all unsaid things? Romance/Drama /Mystery

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

7th, July, 1998

Hours later, after dropping off Kate at the station, Charlie perched himself against a wooden fence at the dragon sanctuary. Lost in thought, he observed as Soule, an older Romanian Longhorn, stretched its wings in the air. The dragon flew in circles, pirouetting through the clouds with the bravest birds joining in its dance.

What a coward you have been, mate, not to join in. And what a fool! You wanted to go! You still do... Bernard has both great humour and profound wisdom, maybe he was the right person to talk to. If you want to talk... Simply trying to pronounce Fred’s name out loud makes your throat close up.

Soule walked past the Sun creating his silhouette in the wind for an instant.

A twinge in his knee made him hiss, and suddenly the smell of smoke invaded his nostrils.

‘It’s normal in the sanctuary,’ he reminded himself, but he couldn’t help but find himself on Hogwarts’ ground, lying on the stones and feeling that same smell.

He clung tightly to the fence, unable to move. The image of the man appearing out of the fire, distorted, only his silhouette visible when lit from behind, slipped into his mind without permission. He had hit him in the knee, fortunately, but at that moment, helpless on the ground, he knew the stranger would not miss a second time.

He struggled to steady his breathing and with difficulty set his sights on the mountains in the distance. He imagined waterfalls and rivers, crystal-clear lakes and the reflection of clouds in their waters, paths overlooking the valley, patches of flowering bushes.

He managed to shake off the vision of his near-death by trying to imagine himself flying, soaring through the skies on a dragon. With the wind in his face and breathing clean air, seeing the world disappearing and getting smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller...

“You’re making my dragons nervous...”

A light tap on the shoulder accompanied the voice, which was just enough to make Charlie flinch and turn away from Sonia, bringing his hand to his hip unconsciously reaching for his wand.

“Sorry.” She said with sincerity in her eyes before leaning against the fence.

Charlie brought his hand to his hair, briefly massaging his head and undoing the small ponytail he wore. He leaned back against the wood next to his group leader.

They both stood in silence for a while, just watching the sky. Charlie’s heart started beating normally again, and he was able to take a deep breath. Still, he brought his hand to his opposite arm and started stroking his inner elbow with his thumb.

“Nervous?” Sonia asked without looking at him. “The lists go out the day after tomorrow.” She added at the look she saw out of the corner of her eye.

“A little.”

“The grant is yours, I have no doubt. And Razvan’s too. You are both very capable.” She said with a small smile.

“We’ll see if the folks at Apuseni feel the same way.”

“I’m sure they will.”

Absently, Charlie continued to make circles on his skin.

“Cool tat,” Sonia commented, looking at the pale skin on his arm. “I haven’t seen it on you before.”

“Oh...” He pulled his hand away to reveal the symbol he wore inked in black. “We only got it done last year...”

Sonia raised her eyebrows.

“Kate and I.”

“Damn. That’s bold. I don’t think I could get matching tattoos with a boyfriend. It’s usually contraindicated.” She laughed, coaxing a small smile from Charlie.

“Yeah, well, they’re not permanent. The guy who did it to us can take them off, too.” It dawned on Charlie that this was the first time anyone had noticed the symbol he was wearing, and that no one but Kate knew of its existence. Not even Razvan.

He moved a little closer to her, extending his left arm so she could see better, and began to follow the lines with his pinky.

“It is, in theory, a Celtic symbol made of two Trinity knots flipped to the side and fused together.” He traced the intricate lines from the horizontally pointing tips to the central circle. “The three points of the knots represent the soul: mind, body and spirit, as well as the circle of life. The two knots maintain their individuality, but when intertwined, they create a perfect circle, symbolising the endless unity between two souls.” He recited as he had been told. He focused on the dragons again, less solemn, remembering with a smile the tale they were told when that man was tattooing Kate.

“It’s really just one interpretation, there’s no factual information about it that we know,” he chuckled" but we loved that story so much we adopted it as our own."

When Sonia didn’t comment on it, he kept going,

“It’s called a Serch Bythol. In Celtic Welsh language, serk means Love, and beeth-ohl means everlasting.”

“I wouldn’t have imagined in a million years that you two were corny as hell!” They shared a laugh at her teasing. Charlie was grateful that she took the weight out of his words.

“Oh, come on, be easy on me, boss, I’m opening my heart for you here.” He said half-joking.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They chuckled again, watching as Soule landed on a tree. “I don’t suppose you got it one night completely smashed in some dude’s basemen…”

“No! Of course not!” He laughed.

“Right…”

“No, we…” he tapped it again absent-mindedly, “it was purely for practical reasons, I assure you.”

He stared at the black ink, praying for it to stay black.

“When the other is in danger, it glows red.”

A look of understanding erased the smirk on Sonia’s eyes. She avoided his stare, focusing on the landscape ahead.

“I always wondered how you knew… That you had to leave Romania that day.”

It scared me so much, the way it burned, he thought. I didn’t know where she was until I received her letter. It didn’t have an envelope or a seal. I couldn’t even recognise her handwriting.

He nodded.

A moment of silence passed between them and left Charlie contemplating his future, his plans. Seeing Soule come down from the sky to take a nap by the rocks made him realise he wasn't meant for anything else. This was the life he hoped for in his teens, and the life he wanted to cultivate. If not dragons, what else? But did it need to be in Romania?

These mountains were his dream since he was a child and he was comfortable here, perhaps too much. He wondered if leaving this place, this group of people he could now call friends would feel like a betrayal. To them and himself.

But then he thought of her.

She had worked as hard as him to get into St Mungo’s hospital as a mere apprentice. And she left for him. To follow him here. She got far as a healer in Bucharest’s hospital. And she left for a cause she believed in. She had been offered a position as a herbology teacher once. And she declined for the same reason.

Maybe it was time to return the favour.

Perhaps, after the Apuseni program, if he was chosen to go, it could be the last thing Romania could offer him and that dream he had as a child wasn’t the end of the line but the beginning.

Before the war, they hadn’t discussed much about their plans for a future away from this place, they both had secure positions, a home and they were content with that. He never dared to dream further from that.

Then the war happened, and they were forced to do things they never imagined they could be capable of. And that tranquil life they had shattered along with their possibilities.

Now that it was over, he thought, after everything that they went through, it was time for new dreams.

Kate was in the picture, he used to be sure of it. Now, he hoped.

“Sonia…”

“Hm?” She began putting on her fireproof gloves.

“May I get… some time off?”

The dragon tamer stared at him with an unreadable expression. She seemed to be registering his question as confusion appeared on her face.

“You shouldn’t. Not right before the program starts.”

“After that, it may be too late.” She kept silent and continued to secure her gear. “I think,” he insisted, “I could catch up later, I’m sure. I’m a fast learner. Two weeks tops.”

“Two weeks!”

“Sonia, please. I never take breaks, you know this. I never even quit when all of that happened,” he added, referring to the war. She sighed.

“I know. I just don’t want you to lose this opportunity.”

“I won’t.”

She thought for a moment and then clicked her tongue. “At least stay until the first day.”

“Of course!”

“Hey!”

Both dragonologists turned at the sound of Razvan’s voice, who flew towards them with a frown.

“Am I the only one who works around here or what? We’re supposed to start the scouting in three minutes!”

“Yes,” Sonia added with a nod towards Charlie, “let’s go.”

Muddy and sweaty, Charlie apparated in front of his house after an afternoon in the forest. He took off his boots before entering the cabin and made his way to the bathroom for a warm and much needed shower.

After cleaning himself, he stepped out of the bathtub in time to hear scratches on the other side of the door.

“Just wait a moment, Grimoire!”

Charlie imagined the condescending expression of Kate’s cat as it sat in their bedroom.

He opened the door with a towel around his hips just so the animal would stop the assault at the door.

“When Kate’s not here, you become an insufferable pain in the ass.” He accused, changing into a shirt and tracksuit bottoms. Grimoire mewled, clearly letting him know that the sentiment was mutual.

After satiating both appetites, Charlie left the cabin and, using a ladder, checked the rooftop for any sign of Whiskey.

He found the owl sound asleep in the small wooden house he had built for him. The redhead frowned and checked his watch. It was late.

While climbing down, he reminded himself that it meant nothing that Kate hadn’t sent a letter. She was probably having fun with her grandpa. Right?

“Yes. She arrived safe and sound.” He said to Grimoire as he entered again.

He made his way to the kitchen counters, hoping that the routine of putting a kettle on would calm his nerves. He instantly felt better as soon as the tea touched his lips, but the nervousness of what would he say to her and, most importantly, how would she react to seeing him there, remained.

Stopping the spiralling train of thought, he gasped.

Her birthday!

He used to be more thoughtful than that, he thought, but the stress of the war and going back to tons of work at the reserve had left him with no energy to think about presents.

The incorporation to the Apuseni program, if that ever happened, would leave him no time to search for something appropriate. He only had tomorrow to figure it out.

Against all odds and without warning, Grimoire jumped on the seat next to him and, tentatively, rested his head on Charlie’s thigh.

“I know,” he sighed, scratching behind the cat’s ear, “I miss her too. You’ll be fine here on your own? I guess you must. Razvan will come, you know him, to check on you.”

He paused, sipping his tea.

“I don’t even know where to start with her…”

He would get to… Cobh? But where exactly? And even if he found her, how would he manage to put in order the things he should say?

Eyeing the coffee table, he saw some random papers scattered around. With a flick of the wrist, a quill and inkwell floated towards him as he set the cup down. With a determined breath, he started writing.

My dearest,

I don’t know if I will have the courage to show you this letter. Maybe I’ll burn it after I’m finished, maybe I will hide it until I’m ready, or maybe I will be able to speak my mind to your face. You deserve as much, and so much more.

My heart stings every time I come home at night. I watch the lights on the tower where you hide from me and I feel as a failure for not being able to reach you. You’ve closed your mind, only to me? Do I hurt you so that you’ve kept your thoughts to yourself?

I talk to Razvan sometimes, about you and I, about what happened, about Fred if my voice doesn’t betray me. He listens, he tries, and I’m grateful to have found a little solace in his friendship, but he is not the person I burn to reconnect with again.

I miss my best friend, my companion.

Is it because I remind you of your own brother, Jacob, that you can’t find it in your heart to speak to me?

I hear you cry some nights. I know about your nightmares. Often I hold you, selfishly hoping you will wake and hug me back. I don’t know what haunts your dreams, I can imagine, but it feels strange in my stomach that you can’t trust me how you used to.

I guess I’ve been guilty of that too, but for different reasons. There is no one else I would trust with my life but you, but I’m afraid I’ve become a burden to you. I find it difficult to know where I stand, where the limits are, how I should act around you.

But I’ve learnt today, the hard way, after seeing you part from me for the umpteenth time and after observing the creatures that roam these mountains, that my approach has been completely off.

You are not a dragon. Never have been and never will. They come and go or they don’t, they can fly, spit fire, the most absolute chaos can burst in any second, destroying everything around them. To be on good terms with them again, you need to sit still and wait. Make yourself as little of a threat as possible.

But you, my love, you are a feline, and cats can sense when one is not confident enough to handle them. So they scurry away. A change of attitude it’s what’s needed or you’ll just see their tails as they leave the room.

All of this to say I hope you will forgive me.

Once I told you, as you lay in my arms, I whispered to you it would be only fair to follow where you lead.

And now I intend to keep my promise, because it was one, whether you know it or not.

Although I should have been quicker to say it,

I accept your offer, if you’ll have me, and I’ll reunite with you in Ireland if I manage to find where you are.

If after these weeks you still seek a life away from here without me, at least I’ll know that my last decision regarding you wasn’t a disappointment or one that I’ll regret.

But for all it’s worth, I want to start dreaming with you again.

With all the love I can possibly keep in my heart,

Charlie.

Before folding the letter, and with utmost care, he drew with his quill a Serch Bythol at the end of the page, hoping she would understand the meaning behind it.

His heart felt lighter, somehow, having put into words his intentions and motives and, he realised as he lifted the quill, that he hoped for her to read it. When the envelope was closed, he placed a kiss on it.

With Grimoire’s head resting on his thigh and a steaming cup in hand, he stared out of the window, watching the trees sway with the wind. He took a deep breath and enjoyed for the first time in months a quiet afternoon in solitude.

A/N. A short one but very much needed, if anyone still cares :) It’s hard writing these days

Next chapter >

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x kate williams #ottb #our time to bloom

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arriansarchive · 1 year

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Regular Request Rules + NSFW Request Rules

Regular (non-smut) Requests Basic Rules

Request in the ask box

I am allowed to not answer (shouldn't have to be said but it is)

Do not request the same thing twice

I might add/change more rules and characters as time goes on because I'm forgetful

Just Notes

Why is my Miles Morales shit post getting reblogged pleeease pick anything other than that

Reader Rules (non-smut)

I will preferably do male reader

I might do gn reader

I won't do female reader so don't ask

I will accept reader being a characters sibling

Character Rules (non-smut)

I will do romantic female characters

I will do romantic male characters

Reader Rules (smut)

I will do dom!top!reader

I will do sub!top!reader

I will not do sub!bottom!reader

Kink Rules (obviously smut)

I will do degradation

I will not do praise (I'm horrible at it sorry)

I will not do pet names of any kind

I might do other kinks if you specify

Character Rules (smut)

I would preferably do m/m

I will try to do gn/m

I will not do gn/f

I will do m/f

Fandoms I Will Do

Spiderman Into/Across The Spiderverse

Miles Morales

Peter B. Parker

Miguel O'Hara

Pavitr Prabhakar

Hobie Brown

Gwen Stacy

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Neville Longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Ginny Weasley

(depends) Draco Malfoy

Nymphadora Tonks

Harry/Ron

Hermione/Harry

Hermione/Ron

Neville/Harry

Neville/Luna

Shameless

Fiona Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Mandy Milkovich

Veronica Fisher

Kevin Ball

Possibly others if you mention them

Young Sheldon

Georgie Cooper

Mary Cooper

IT Chapter 1/2

Richie Tozier

Eddie Kaspbrack

Bill Debsbrough

Stanley Uris

Beverly Marsh

Ben Hanscom

Mike Hanlon

Eddie/Richie (movie/book)

Ben/Bill (book)

Bill/Stan (movie/book)

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers (male reader only)

Dustin Henderson

Lucas Sinclair

Eleven

Max Mayfield

Steve Harrington

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Jason Carver

Eddie Munson

El/Mike

Max/Lucas

Will/Mike

Nancy/Jonathan

Dustin/Lucas

Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (book)

Alma LeFay Peregrine

Caul Bentham

Jacob Portman

Emma Bloom

Fiona Frauenfeld

Hugh Apiston

Noor Pradesh

Millard Nullings

Enorace

Jillard

Joor

Jemma

Nuwho

Eleventh doctor

Twelfth doctor

Clara Oswald

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

River song

12/Clara

Fear Street

Kate Schmidt

Simon Kalivoda

Josh Johnson

Ziggy Berman

Cindy Berman

Sally Face

Sal Fisher

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campell

Todd Morrison

Travis Phelps

Sal/Travis

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Heartstopper

Nick Nelson

Charlie Spring (x m!reader only)

Tao Xu

Harry Greene

Elle Argent

James McEwan (x m!reader only)

Imogen Heanley

Nick/Charlie

Elle/Tao

The Fosters

Mariana Foster

Jesus Foster

Callie Adams-Foster

Jude Adams-Foster (x m!reader only)

Brandon Foster

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Ari/Dante

Darius the Great Deserves Better

Darius/Chip

The 13th Reality

Atticus "Tick" Higginbottom

Sofia Pacini

Paul (insert last name here since I forgot)

Tick/Sofia

Tick/Paul

Sofia/Paul

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keymeadoww · 8 months

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Who Will I write for?

A list of people and fandoms I will be willing to write for! This is both platonic and romantic (and nsfw- ONLY for characters, NO real people! [ex. I could write a C! Hermitcraft x reader nsfw, but i would NOT write a regular hermitcraft one, yknow??]), if it has a STAR beside their name, then they are ONLY PLATONIC

Famous People/Youtubers

Smallishbeans*

LDShadowlady*

James Marriot

Solidarity

Smajor1995*

Nihachu

Slimecicle

Sam Golbach

Colby Brock

Kris Collins*

Celina Spookyboo*

Marauders Era

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew

Fabian Prewett

Gideon Prewett

Molly Prewett

Marlene McKinnon

Lily Evans

Dorcas Meadows

Frank Longbottom

Regulus Black

Barty Crouch

Evan Rosier

Severus Snape

Lucius Malfoy

Amos Diggory

Arthur Weasley

Fear Street 1994

Deena

Josh

Kate Schmidt

Samantha Fraser

Simon

Helluva Boss

Blitz

Millie/Moxxie (if romance, poly only)

Loona

Striker

Stolas

Octavia

Asmodeus

Fiizzarolli

Beelzebub

Verosika Mayday

Hazbin Hotel

Charlie

Vaggie

Alastor

Angel

Husk

Nifty*

Lucifer

Adam

Rosie*

Sir Pentious

Cherri Bomb

Vox

Velvette

Hermitcraft (the people I regularly watch)

Grian

MumboJumbo

GoodTimesWithScar

TangoTek

BdoubleO (Bdubs)

ImpulseSV

Iskall85

Rendog

Smallishbeans*

Julie and the Phantoms

Julie

Reggie

Luke

Alex

Flynn

Carrie

Willie

Trolls

Poppy

Branch

Gristle*

Bridget*

Creek

Guy Diamond*

Tiny Diamond*

Barb

Trollex

Delta Dawn

John Dory

Spruce/Bruce

Clay

Floyd

Velvet

Veneer

Doctor Who *Current hyperfixation*

9th

10th

11th

12th

13th

14th

15th

The Master

The Mistress (Missy)

Rose Tyler

Jack Harkness

Donna Noble

Martha Jones

Amelia Pond

Rory Williams

Clara Oswald

Bill Potts

Ryan Sinclair

Graham O'Brien*

Yasmin Khan

Dan Lewis*

Ruby Sunday

Dorian Stories

Shark Bait by Rose Magpie

Tiggy

Lee

Rhin

Akhelios

Nebulaeus

Doctor

Cookie*

#x reader #aus

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justadreamzzz · 7 years

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Hello *waves awkwardly* I know I have been inactive lately but I'm back in the game now. After a lengthy break I have decided to put my heart back into writing imagines, prompts, one shots, ships and possibly some point in the future some fictions of my own. I have lengthened my fandom list and character range.

Harry Potter:

- Hermoine Grainger

- Ronald Weasley

- Ginny Weasley

- Harry Potter

- Luna Lovegood

- Cedric Diggory

- Fred Weasley

- George Weasley

- (Young) Sirius Black

- (Young) James Potter

- (Young) Remus Lupin

Divergent:

- Tris Prior

- Eric Coulter

- Tobias Eaton

Lost:

- Charlie

- Claire

- Kate

- Sawyer

- Jack

- Juliet

- Desmond

Twilight:

{Wolf Pack}

- Sam Uley

- Paul Lahote

- Jared Cameron

- Seth Clearwater

- Embry Call

- Quil Ateara

- Emily Young

- Leah Clearwater

- Jacob Black

{Vampire Clan}

- Emmett Cullen

- Carlisle Cullen

- Edward Cullen

- Jasper Whitlock

- Rosalie Hale

- Alice Cullen

- Esme Cullen

- Bella Swan

{Volturi Clan}

- Jane

- Alec

- Felix

- Demetri

{Others}

- Garrett

- Benjamin

Doctor Who:

- Jack Harkness

- Amy Pond

- River Song

- Rory Williams

- Eleven

- Ten

- Nine

The Originals:

- Marcel Gerard

- Davina Claire

- Camille O'Conner

- Elijah Mikaelson

- Klaus Mikaelson

- Rebekah Mikaelson

- Kol Mikaelson

- Hayley Marshall

Teen Wolf:

- Stiles Stilinski

- Derek Hale

- Scott McCall

- Isaac Lahey

- Jackson Whittemore

- Liam Dunbar

- Theo Raeken

- Aiden

- Chris Argent

- Lydia Martin

- Void!Stiles

- Alison Argent

- Malia Tate

- Hayden Romero

- Kira Yukimura

Lost Boys:

- Edgar Frog

- Sam Emerson

- Michael Emerson

- Star

- David

- Marko

Avengers:

- Bruce Banner

- Clint Barton

- Tony Stark

- Steve Rogers

- Bucky Barnes

- Thor Odinson

- Loki Lafeyson

- Natasha Romanoff

- Wanda Maximoff

- Pietro Maximoff

X-men:

- (Young) Charles Xavier

- (Young) Eric Lensherr

- Mystique

- Kurt Wagner

- Scott Summers

- Alex Summers

- (Young) Jean Gray

Maze Runner:

- Gally {Galileo}

- {Isaac} Newt{on}

- Thomas {Edison}

- Aris{totle} Jones

- Minho

- {Mother} Teresa

- Winston {Churchill}

- Alby{ert Einstein}

- Harriet {Jones}

- Sonya

- Brenda

Beautiful Creatures:

- Ethan Wate

- Lena Duchannes

- Ridley Duchannes

- Link

- Larkin Duchannes

OUAT:

- Peter Pan

- Emma Swan

- Mad Hatter

- Mary Margaret

Game Of Thrones:

- Robb Stark

- Jon Snow

- Bran Stark

- Sansa Stark

- Daenerys Targaryen

- Jorah Mormont

- Daario Naharis

- Joffrey Baratheon

- Tommen Baratheon

- Myrcella Baratheon

- Jaime Lannister

- Tyrion Lannister

- Podrick Payne

- Petyr Baelish

- Margaery Tyrell

- Jojen Reed

- Meera Reed

- Samwell Tarly

Supernatural:

- Dean Winchester

- Sam Winchester

- Adam Millagan

- Jess

- Gabriel

- Castiel

- Lucifer

- Crowley

- Kevin Tran

- Meg

- Ruby

- Anna

- Lisa

Vampire Diaries:

- Jeremy Gilbert

- Elena Gilbert

- Katherine Pierce

- Stefan Salvatore

- Damon Salvatore

- Matt Donovan

- Anna

- Caroline Forbes

- Tyler Lockwood

- Mason Lockwood

- Bonnie Bennett

- Alaric Saltzman

- Kai Parker

- Klaus Mikaelson

- Elijah Mikaelson

- Kol Mikaelson

- Rebekah Mikaelson

^ These are the fandoms and characters I am most familiar with and can strive to write with. However there are RULES!^

1. No smut whatsoever sorry. I know Game of Thrones is in the list and is positively based around the sex scenes etc, it makes me cringe just attempting to write it.

2. Give me time. Don't pester me constantly if I've seen your request because chances are I have and just need the initiative and motivation to want to write it, to feel it happen you know?

3. No personals, it will be strictly be Y/N only as there is a reason we have pen names. For privacy and anonymity.

4. (not a rule) you can inquire about other fandoms and maybe a character I've forgotten to mention above I'm open to suggestions but I'll let you know if I'm up to date and can do your request given that I might not always be able. The most important thing is to have fun and request away!

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 7 years

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Lottie’s Plans To Write- 06/05/17

Below the cut there is a list of the characters I have plans written for in my notebook. But if there are any other characters you want me to plan for tell me, or if you want me to write any specific characters quickly tell me as well.

Edit: Numbers in bold and brackets are how many plans have been added or removed since the last post.

Harry Potter

Fred and George Weasley x 1

Marauders x 3

Sirius Black x 43 (+1)

Remus Lupin x 36

Fred Weasley x 9

Harry Potter x 4

James Potter x 13

Nymphadora Tonks x 2

Ginny Weasley x 1

Hermione Granger x 19 (+1)

Cedric Diggory x 2

George Weasley x 8 (+1)

Narcissa Black x 1

Draco Malfoy x 6

Arthur Weasley x 1

Andromeda Tonks x 1

Alice Fortescue x 1

Frank Longbottom x 1

Godric Gryffindor x 1

Jacob Kowalski x 1

Molly Prewett x 2

Newt Scamander x 1

Queenie Goldstein x 1

Salazar Slytherin x 1

Rowena Ravenclaw x 1

Ted Tonks x 1

Tina Goldstein x 1

Viktor Krum x 1

Bill Weasley x 6

Charlie Weasley x 9 (+2)

Neville Longbottom x 3

Dean Thomas x 2

Fleur Delacour x 1

Luna Lovegood x 1

Regulus Black x 1

Oliver Wood x 1

Lily Evans x 1

Parvati Patil x 1

Scorpius Malfoy x 1 (+1)

Albus Severus Potter x 1 (+1)

Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton x 5

Lafayette x 3

John Laurens x 1

Angelica Schuyler x 3

King George III x 1

Maria Reynolds x 1

Aaron Burr x 1

George Washington x 1

Philip Hamilton x 1

Peggy Schuyler x 1

Eliza Schuyler x 1

Downton Abbey

Sybil Crawley x 5

William Mason x 5

Gwen Dawson x 1

Matthew Crawley x 2

Ethel Parks x 1

Edith Crawley x 1

Anna Smith x 1

Tom Branson x 2

Lavinia Swire x 1

Mary Crawley x 2 (+1)

John Bates x 3

Disney

Belle x 1

Alex Russo x 1

The Vampire Diaries

Klaus Mikaelson x 1

Until Dawn

Ashley Brown x 0 (-1)

How To Get Away With Murder

Rebecca Sutter x 1

Laurel Castillo x 1

Frank Delfino x 1

Bates Motel

Emma Decody x 1

iZombie

Lowell Tracey x 1

Ravi Chakrabarti x 1 (-1)

The Walking Dead

Hershel Greene x 1

Rick Grimes x 4

Paul Rovia x 1

Aiden Monroe x 1

Daryl Dixon x 1 (+1)

Tara Chambler x 1 (-1)

The 100

Jasper Jordan x 2

Being Human UK

John Mitchell x 2

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner x 4

Derek Morgan x 1

Jennifer Jareau x 1

David Rossi x 1

Emily Prentiss x 1

Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders

Russ Montgomery x 1 (+1)

Elementary

Marcus Bell x 1

Joan Watson x 1

Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit

Pippin Took x 1

Bilbo Baggins x 2

Kili x 2

Conviction

Hayes Morrison x 1

Barry Allen x 1

Oliver Queen x 2

Felicity Smoak x 1

Leonard Snart x 0 (-1)

Harley Quinn x 1

Marvel

Wanda Maximoff x 3 (+1)

Clint Barton x 8 (-1)

Bruce Banner x 1

Bucky Barnes x 15

Darcy Lewis x 1

Reed Richards x 1

Steve Rogers x 8

Peggy Carter x 1

Charles Xavier x 2

Remy LeBeau x 1

Scott Lang x 1

Loki Laufeyson x 2

Peter Maximoff x 1

Tony Stark x 9

Wade Wilson x 1

Glee

Blaine Anderson x 1

Mike Chang x 1

Santana Lopez x 1

Blindspot

Patterson x 1

Skins

Cassie Ainsworth x 1

Freddie McClair x 1

Maxxie Oliver x 0 (-1)

Gossip Girl

Chuck Bass x 1

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Jake Peralta x 1

Rosa Diaz x 0 (-1)

Amy Santiago x 1

Reign

Leith Bayard x 0 (-1)

Once Upon a Time

Ruby Lucas x 1

August Booth x 1

Belle French x 1

Jefferson x 1

Killian Jones x 0 (-1)

Regina Mills x 1

Lost

Kate Austen x 2

Sayid Jarrah x 2

Desmond Hume x 1

Charlie Pace x 0 (-1)

James Ford x 1

Jack Shephard x 1

Nativity!

Paul Maddens x 3

Scream

Noah Foster x 1 (-1)

Jake Fitzgerald x 1 (+1)

Castle

Richard Castle x 1

Casualty

Alice Chantrey x 1

John ‘Abs’ Denham x 2

Lenny Lyons x 1

Zoe Hanna x 1

Tom Kent x 1

Tamzin Bayle x 1

Polly Emmerson x 1

American Horror Story

Maggie Esmeralda x 0 (-1)

Supernatural

Dean Winchester x 1

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katherinewilliams221b · 9 months

Text

Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 6: The Secret Garden Inn

<Previous Chapter - All Chapters - Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

7th, July 1998

On a darkened corner of the tiled hallways of the Ministry, the travelling group started to dissipate. Kate found herself stuck in place, watching the frantic coming and going of wizards and witches.

One of the first things Kingsley Shacklebolt did as a new minister of Magic was opening the doors of the ministry. A decision that was praised by some and feared by others, for it was done only weeks after the war ended.

Kate eyed the increased amount of aurors in every nook, instinctively looking for the easiest escaping route; there were nine aurors near the central fountain, two at every fireplace, one for each lift.

“Miss, please, move out of the way.” An auror touched her elbow from behind and she flinched away, stepping out of his way.

She curled her fingers towards her inner wrist, checking her wand, and made her way towards one lift.

Squeezed between wizards, Kate appeared inside a telephone cabin in London. She instantly brought a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the light.

Across the street, a man and a woman stared at the cabin. To muggles and untrained eyes they could appear as tourists, but Kate recognised the aurors in them.

Once outside, she walked towards the street corner and leaned on the building’s stone. She let her thoughts wander to Charlie again, wondering why he hadn’t accepted her offer. For months she had given him the space he sought, worrying about his silence regarding his brother. She could understand. Merlin, she could, why wouldn’t he open up about it? Since when have they guarded their thoughts like that? You know since when, she thought to herself.

The glass of a showcase in front of her returned her reflection: her hair almost reached her waist now, it had long lost its curliness, leaving muted brown waves instead. She wore simple clothing that day, a loose white shirt tucked inside blue jeans and her old boots. She tapped one against the pavement, avoiding looking at her tired expression.

Not even five minutes passed when she saw a familiar figure strolling in her direction. Her grandfather, Bernard, was a round and short man, with red cheeks and smirking grey eyes. Kate smiled as he approached only carrying a small satchel and an umbrella on his back, anchored with a leather belt across his chest.

“A stór!” His smile grew, and he opened his arms as he walked. Kate pushed herself away from the wall and hopped towards him, accepting his embrace immediately.

She felt him tightening his grip and she let herself relax against him, the faint scent of his cologne washed away her preoccupations.

“Let me look at you.” He took off his glasses, letting them hang from the chain around his neck, and inspected her face with a frown. “How have you been?”

Kate swallowed and forced a smile, placing her hands on his arms to reassure him.

“Better.” She lied. “How are we going to Cobh?”

Bernard squinted almost imperceptibly and Kate knew he noticed the change of topic. He then scanned her belongings and then their surroundings, a light frown appeared again between his brows.

“Ah,” he said with a lighter tone. “Follow me.”

After preventing Bernard from carrying her luggage, Kate followed her grandfather toward a less than frequented alley. Once he had made sure no one was around, he extended his hand to her.

She stared at it for a second and sighed.

“Just one more time. Some portkeys have been cancelled.”

Kate held his hand, resigned, and closed her eyes. For the second time that day, her stomach spiralled, and she disappeared through the void.

Clouded skies and a strong wind greeted them; Kate and Bernard apparated in front of a stone building, a big clock decorated its central tower and three heavy-looking doors stood before them.

Kate squinted and brought her hand to her throat, protecting herself from the wind as best as she could. She turned around and observed the river that split the city. There were several people crossing the bridges or just taking a walk near the water. No one seemed to have paid attention to them.

After one last glance at Cork behind her, she followed Bernard towards the wooden door in the middle.

He patted her hand, “We will have time to explore to your heart’s content. But first…”

The gates opened to reveal a grandiose interior; tall columns separated ostentatious wooden desks, redirecting any visitor’s gaze to the dome’s glass ceiling. A seemingly innocent chandelier hovered above the space scattering rays of light around.

Upon close inspection, Kate noticed an erratic shift caused by the individual movements of the crystal beads. At the end of each ray of light, a letter, a document, or a folder floated to a certain direction to be delivered, and the light was scattered again.

Still walking, Kate heard her grandpa’s voice a second too late and slammed her body against the front desk.

Bernard’s roaring laugh echoed in her ears. She brought her hand to her forehead, massaging slightly and avoiding at all costs eye contact with the figure appearing behind the desk.

Staring at her from above, a silver-haired man with dark olive skin and black eyes waited as she composed herself. A perfectly trimmed eyebrow raised at the display, not without, Kate noticed, a hint of amusement in their expression.

“Not a word.” She warned Bernard. He in return zipped his lips with his thumb and index finger, not bothering to hide his smirk. However, he touched her elbow with gentleness and placed a small pouch in her hand.

“Why don’t you change these for muggle coin, hm? I’ll find you when I’m finished.”

When the transaction was done, Kate searched for a comfortable spot to wait for Bernard and decided on a bench against a wall where she had sight of the main door, her grandfather and most of the back doors leading to other chambers. When the space started to get crowded, she instinctively brought her finger to her inner wrist.

She observed Bernard handing an envelope to a young goblin before walking towards her.

“All done,” he started with a smile and checked his pocket watch, “Now, to catch a train!”

“No more apparitions?”

“No more, A stór.”

Kate managed to relax slightly, and with a smile of her own they marched towards a door in the back.

The gate opened, revealing a blueish veil. Bernard crossed first, and Kate followed with unwavering trust. They appeared on a covered train station and they made their way to buy their tickets.

“There is so much water on the route to Cobh that the line runs across not one but two causeways!” Bernard informed her with enthusiasm while waiting in line.

Kate smiled brightly, genuinely, at her grandfather and listened to his relaxing voice describe the sights they would see on the way.

Despite Bernard’s energetic personality, she noticed the slight agitation of his breathing and the way he unhooked his umbrella to use it as a cane.

“First stop will be Little Island! And then Glounthaune, followed by Fota, which we will be going to visit in a few days. You liking all the plants and such, you must step on the gardens, yes. Then there’s Carrigaloe and Rushbrook and finally Cobh. Half an hour!”

As she listened, she walked them to the closest bench. Bernard sat down with a content sigh.

“I’m very happy you came,” Bernard said sincerely.

Kate sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling him pat her knee.

“And I’m very happy you invited me.”

Kate looked out of the window, observing the green landscape pass at high speed alongside the river. At some point, yellow and green fences impeded the view and signalled the stop at Fota Wildlife Park. She turned to Bernard, who sat in front of her with a newspaper, with a smile of recognition. To her surprise, her grandfather was assessing her with worry.

“What?” she asked in a hushed voice. She knew what he was going to say, they couldn’t ignore the hippogriff in the room any longer.

“I’ve noticed… That redhead of yours owes me an explanation, he does! Here I am, expecting to see him after all this time,”he continued with a light tone" and he decides that having a job is more important than a trip with his partner’s grandfather?"

Kate avoided his gaze to watch the river again. However, a small, breathy laugh escaped her. She thanked him, in silence, for not asking and for at least trying to lighten her sour mood. He surely didn’t deserve her melancholy. Making up her mind, she placed all her thoughts about Charlie on a small little box in her brain and looked at Bernard again.

“We are going to have fun, you and I.”

The smile that bloomed on the elder’s face remained there for the rest of the trip.

“That,” Bernard announced, turning back towards a brick building after getting off the train, “is what remains of the original station.”

“Now it’s a heritage centre,” Kate observed. Bernard’s expression turned more sombre, and remained pensive, watching the building and the extension of the Port of Cobh while clutching his umbrella.

“Yes, they explain the history of the quayside, from which people emigrated or were forcibly transported to the colonies. Come with me, I found a lovely bed-and-breakfast to stay that I think you’ll enjoy.”

“I know very little of the time you left…” Kate tried. She reminded herself to be patient, to be careful around the stories about her grandparents’ lives in Ireland. “or how.”

To her surprise, Bernard took a solemn breath and smiled at her as they walked.

“It was 1945. And I do remember the exact date, oh yes. Muggles and wizards were at war, both with themselves and each other. It was known… that a Grindelwald’s, you know the man, do you? That a Grindelwald’s supporters group had settled in the area. One day I found my home painted with a message; ‘blood traitors you are next’.

“Because grandma was a muggle?” Kate gasped.

“Among other things.”

Bernard fell silent for a moment, contemplating the sea at their left.

“I panicked. I grabbed your gran and left in a rush. Heading to America.”

Kate’s brows jumped to her hairline, but remained quiet.

“We ended up in Milford Haven. Wales!” he chuckled at Kate’s wide-open eyes. “A misunderstanding that probably saved our lives.”

He looked at her over his glasses, wearing the smirk of a storyteller. He raised a finger,

“On that boat, Julie told me she was with child. Your mam. We went to Cardiff, Merlin knows how, gaining some sickles selling potions on the road, if, and only if we happened to encounter another wizard.”

“You can tell?”

“Oh, yes.” He smirked.

“And then?” Fully invested in the story, Kate struggled to look ahead, wanting to keep her attention on Bernard.

“We settled there until Julie had the babe. Not long after, I heard someone say at the wizarding neighbourhood that a potioneer in Bristol was looking for an assistant. So I sailed again! All by myself, and managed to convince the poor fellow to hire me. I found a place to stay, the best I could afford that wasn’t filled with doxys and Merlin knows what, and sent a letter to your gran. Let me tell you something, muggle post service is embarrassingly slow compared to owls.”

“So she travelled alone with Mama there?”

“She did so, she did.”

“And how did you end up in Stanton then? Where you live now.”

“We stayed in Bristol for a year or so because your gran, as brilliant as she was having a little, how would you say? A little twitching on her fingers, as a manner of speaking, because she wanted to study! We moved to Oxford, then, for her to train. She had a bit of practice with voluntary work at Cobh, so she had all that figured out in a blink.”

They moved to the stone wall to their left, silently letting a cyclist pass them, and resumed their stroll a few minutes more.

“And then your aunt arrived. With two babes and our salaries, part in muggle coin and part in galleons, we couldn’t really afford to live in Oxford. So while Julie finished her training, I travelled around a bit with your mam and auntie and found Stanton! It was small, quiet, and they needed someone with medical experience in town.”

Kate laughed at this, she knew that story. Her grandma was a nurse, but Stanton had no hospital and less than a hundred people living there, so she had been, for a while, ‘The Doc’.

“Here we are.”

Bernard pointed at a white hanging sign in the shape of a house that said, in blue letters,

The Secret Garden Inn

B&B

Bernard opened a small wooden gate for her and walked after her through the gravel path. A three-storey house revealed itself as they advanced, hidden among the trees and abundant vegetation. The garden was well kept, full of blooming flowers whose scent reached Kate’s nose.

The building was bigger than Kate expected for a Bed and breakfast; it was white, with plenty of windows in every corner, a sun-room on one side, and part of the second floor had a wide terrace.

“But grandpa! This is a mansion!”

They shared a chuckle, and after a knock on the door, they entered the building.

The interior was an elegant mix of antique furniture and modern brightness, it was clear that it had been remodelled.

The first thing they encountered was a desk facing them, an older woman, around Bernard’s age, talked in hushed voices on the phone while staring at a computer screen.

She had her hair short, elegantly dyed to a dark brown; her skin had a pale rosy tone, with wrinkles adorning her mouth and jaw and a slightly hooked nosed held a pair of black glasses.

“Ah, but don’t be talking to me like that, lad. Just tell me how to change the colour of the… cells… yes, that.” The woman took a glance at a thick book on her right before typing on the keyboard, the phone trapped between her ear and shoulder. “Eric, phone me in the afternoon, will you? Yes. Yes, bye bye. Bye bye, dear.”

“Good day!” Bernard announced after she hung up.

“Oh, but please be welcome. How can I assist you?”

“We had two rooms reserved under the name of Bernard. That would be me.”

Both Kate and the woman chuckled at the clarification

“I figured as much! That’s no face for a Bernard,” he said, pointing at Kate and standing up. "Perhaps an Arthur or a Phineas suit you better. Come with me, I’ll show you around.”

The woman, named Áine, showed them to their modest rooms on the second floor. Bernard had insisted on her having the room with the double bed, and Kate had only accepted because her grandfather would then have the ocean view.

“That door is off limits, since it leads to the private part of the house.” Áine informed them when they reached the ground floor again. She pointed behind the stairs."Next to it, the kitchen, also off limits."

Bernard nodded, and with his hands clasped behind him, made his way towards the spacious living room. The fireplace was the focus of attention, plenty of photographs and trinkets adorned the mantel and ceiling-high bookshelves guarded each side.

“Feel free to come here as you please to read or play. There are cards and chess, and you can ask for a cup o’ tea at any time if…,” she looked around, “well, she is not here at the moment…”

Kate wandered towards the back of the room; to her left she could glimpse a dining room but what caught her attention was the sight through a window.

“Ah!” Áine announced, "and this way is the reason behind the name of the inn."

The three of them crossed the door that lead to an enclosed garden. The bushes and flowers blocked the view of the street, giving the space privacy and some sense of isolation. A big tree stood proudly right in the middle, giving shade to the centre part of the grass. Some string lights could be seen hanging from the branches, and Kate couldn’t wait to see it at night.

“Here are your keys, Bernard and…”

“Kate.”

“Kate, then. Feel free to come and go as you wish, at a reasonable volume. We close the front door at nine, here’s the key. Just in case you find yourselves discovering Cobh at night. Breakfast is served in the dining room from seven to nine. And with that,” she smiled and clasped her hands, “I hope you have a lovely stay.”

After settling in their rooms and accepting the tea Áine had offered, they spent most of the day strolling along the shore, admiring the colourful houses and the different street nooks that looked like they had come out of a storybook. At some point, Kate’s stomach protested, and they made a strategic stop to replenish strength.

“Cobh is probably best known for being the ‘last port of call’ to the ill-fated RMS Titanic who on 11 April 1912, berthed at Queenstown, before she set out across the Atlantic on the last leg of her maiden voyage.[1],” Kate read as they ate on a small tourist book Áine had gifted her. “Do you remember that?” she asked with a teasing smirk.

“For Merlin’s sake, lass, how old do you think I am?”

After Bernard had declared he didn’t have the energy to climb the steep roads to the cathedral and the centre part of the town, they resumed their peaceful walk on the coastline.

“Come here, a stór. See.” With a shaky finger, he pointed at an orange building, right between a bar and a gift shop. It read: P. Donegan and Co. Solicitors.

“Who are they?”

“No clue. That… that was your gran’s house.”

Kate let out a breath. She tried to imagine how it would have looked like before or how she would have looked like as a child. She knew her great grandfather was a fisherman, a sailor, and her great grandmother sold the fish in the market. Or at least they were until the incident.

“It was right over there,” Bernard pointed at the port, “the market. Where that parking is now.” He sighed, lost in thought, and before Kate could reach out to grab his hand, Bernard composed himself. “Ice cream?”

Kate nodded, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea that her granny had a life there, on the stones she was stepping on, one that her grandfather was doing his best to show her. After a while, they sat on a bench looking at the sea in comfortable silence, only surrounded by the sound of people, birds, boats and a distant guitar of a street performer.

A dumb idea occurred to her when she saw a tissue on the asphalt about to fall over to the water.

Wingardium Leviosa

She repeated it over and over, focusing on the vision of the tissue flying above the ground. She kept staring at it, brows furrowing and lips pursing.

Wingardium Leviosa, Wingardium Leviosa, Wingardium Leviosa!

“Kate.”

She turned to Bernard for a second, startled, and then to the place the tissue was being stepped on by some tourists. Kate sighed.

Bernard touched two fingers to her arm gently. “Since when?”

“Since we left Hogwarts’ ruins.” Her lips trembled, and he hummed.

“Can you do magic with a wand?”

“No. Nothing you are about to ask me I can do.”

Bernard nodded as he patted her knee with reassurance, but said nothing else. Kate grazed her eye with a knuckle, not wanting to have a meltdown right in front of him and ruining the lovely day they were having. She pushed her attempt at magic to the side and focused on the repetitive task two men were performing as they moved wooden crates out of a boat until the sun started to set.

[1] Text extracted from Cobh and Harbour Chamber website.

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#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x kate williams #our time to bloom #ottb

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katherinewilliams221b · 10 months

Text

Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 5: So, fare thee well

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Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

A/N A bit of a filler chapter. With the master’s ending and the possible new job and everything, it’s been impossible for me to post.

7th, July, 1998

The days that followed Bernard’s letter were excruciatingly monotonous and silent. Kate was confined most of the time to her study, reading about anatomy and spells, trying to find a definitive solution to Charlie’s knee. He, on the other hand, was busy with the newborn dragons, and starting the program of reintegration into their habitat, always with a question burning in his throat regarding the letter from the ministry that he found hidden between the pages of a magazine.

The day of her departure, he found himself leaning against the doorframe of his room, waiting for Kate to close her backpack and the suitcase she had decided to take with her. He thought that perhaps with a smaller one and a charm extension she would be more comfortable, but he didn’t comment on that.

“Ready?” he said as she adjusted the backpack on her shoulders. Despite how little he wanted to see her go once more, he offered her a half smile as he saw her brown eyes sparkle with emotion. It had been a long time since he’d seen her so excited.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she said in a low voice.

Charlie reached over to grab the suitcase and held out a hand. Kate interlaced her fingers with his, which immediately calmed his nerves. He watched as she tilted her head curious as to why they hadn’t shown up in Bucharest.

Kate felt Charlie squeeze her hand, stroking her skin with his thumb, and looked up into his eyes. He was worried, she could tell, there was no need for legilimency. The reason for it escaped her.

She reciprocated the caress, trying to make the expression of pure sadness she suddenly saw on his face disappear.

“Let’s go,” he murmured. Kate nodded and braced herself.

As usual, as she crossed the gap between locations, her stomach flipped. The nauseous sensation lasted for an instant, exactly until her feet made contact with the floor of a shadowy alley. She glued her back to the stone and closed her eyes without letting go of Charlie’s hand. For several deep breaths, she concentrated only on the sensation of Charlie’s thumb caressing the thin skin on the back of her hand.

Opening her eyes, she met his, a shadowed expression on his face. Slowly, a wrinkle appeared between his brows.

“It’s been a long time since it affected you like this,” He commented quietly. Dropping her luggage to the floor, he brought his hand up to her cheek. Kate dropped some of the weight of her head on it for a moment. “It’s never made you this pale.”

“Out of practice.” She averted her gaze to the alley entrance, glimpsing part of the columns that built the Bucharest train station. Her chest shrunk for a moment.

“Yes. Let’s go.” Charlie released her face so he could carry the suitcase, making them both miss the warmth of the contact almost instantly. Kate gave his hand a squeeze, preventing him from releasing it as well, and together they stepped out of the shadows.

Bucharest’s North Station awaited them on the other side of the broad Avenue they were crossing. The imposing building of stone columns and huge doors hid behind its walls the departure point for multiple shuttles to all parts of the world, sharing space and time with the Muggle train station.

Without letting go of their hands for a moment, they crossed the veil that separated the two worlds and entered a wide gallery of red and black beams. The place was ablaze with energy; groups of people were coming and going, eager to get to their destination or excited to be back.

Charlie gave a gentle tug and pulled her closer to him as he saw that no one had any qualms about bumping into them as they passed.

Stay close.

He glanced at her, surprised again at the lack of response and, judging by Kate’s concentrated expression as she searched for the meeting point, the message hadn’t even arrived.

He saw her point towards a spot near the magical platform in the distance, where a sign hung that simply read ‘Portkeys’ next to the symbol for magical transportation. Shoulder to shoulder, they made their way, dodging as best they could the amount of people around them.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” said Charlie once near the inspector, pulling her suitcase closer to him, “Let me know when you get there.”

Kate felt like her chest was going to burst. She was making a great effort to hold Charlie’s sad look without breaking down. She just nodded.

“Last chance,” she offered him a small smile, “Never mind your luggage, we’ll buy you clothes there.”

The redhead let out a laugh, his brown eyes turning glassy with each passing second. He grabbed her face with both hands, gently, a gesture asking her to please not pull away. Kate let herself be done when she felt his lips on hers, soft, unhurried.

It had been so long since they had kissed like that, slowly, simply enjoying each other. Nothing like the hurried, dusty and sweaty one in the middle of a ruined castle, death at their backs, not knowing if they would see each other again afterwards.

And yet, even though he was taking his time, even though she was letting herself be carried away by his caresses, even though she was tangling her fingers in his red curls drawing him closer to her, even though she let out a sigh when his tongue brushed her lower lip, that kiss tasted like goodbye.

Again.

With one last chaste kiss, they stopped their love show when they heard the last call for the portkey. Forehead to forehead and nose to nose they shared a rueful smile for a moment until they parted completely. Kate saw Charlie’s expression change almost imperceptibly, even if she couldn’t do legilimency, she knew he wanted to tell her something.

“What?” she murmured only to him, her hands still on his neck.

He simply shook his head, forcing a smile.

“Have fun, it’s your chance to disconnect from... everything. Give my regards to your grandpa.”

“Will do.” She released him reluctantly before grabbing her bag and starting to walk towards the portkey. Before she could get very far, Charlie placed his hand on her elbow, tugging it once more until they were impossibly close.

“I love you.”

“I want you to come with me.” She said at once, breathlessly.

Charlie didn’t respond. He didn’t say he wanted to accompany her. He didn’t say he wanted to ask her about the letter from the Ministry or about the book. He didn’t say that he wanted her to send him letters from Ireland, or that he hoped with all his heart that she would retrieve whatever she had lost there.

Can you hear me? asked Kate into his mind. Her eyes travelled quickly across his face to identify any reaction, any indication that the message had arrived. However, nothing signalled he could hear her.

Can you hear me? She tried to shout again, but try as she might, Charlie only broke eye contact to glance over her shoulder, unaware of her desperate attempts at communication.

“You should get going,” he said, handing her the suitcase.

He simply left a kiss on her forehead and watched her march towards the golden statue where several wizards and witches were standing around.

With her backpack slung over her shoulder and squeezed between two witches chattering incessantly, Kate searched the crowd for Charlie’s gaze, hoping irrationally that he would walk in her direction and touch the statue with her.

He offered her a smile that tried to be encouraging, but she perceived it as melancholic as she felt. A deep voice announced the impending departure, and that was her cue to touch the metal of the statue.

And from one moment to the next, with no time for a final farewell, Kate disappeared into thin air.

Charlie watched as the people around the portkey twisted in a swirl until they vanished. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked out of the station, dodging the crowd. When he reached the street, he hesitated about returning to the cabin and, with a glance at the clear sky began to wander down the avenue.

The intention was that the walk would clear his mind, distract him from the thought that he would be alone in the cabin for two weeks. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, but the fact that he hadn’t told Kate everything he wanted would fill him with anguish. He could already feel the lump forming in his throat.

A sense of frustration suddenly came over him, and he let out a snort. Unconsciously, he began to walk faster, shaking his head at Kate’s stubbornness, reproaching himself for not knowing how to handle these past few months.

Overwhelmed by the crowds of people crossing the avenue, he detoured through the narrower streets, meandering through the alleys, guiding himself by stores and food stalls he recognised so as not to lose orientation.

He came to a park he used to frequent with Razvan early in their friendship. After walking for a while, she sat down on one bench under the shade of the trees and plopped down on the backrest.

What was he supposed to do? Pack up his things and move into a sanctuary tent? That might delay Kate’s decision to move back to London.

He tsked. Why hadn’t he mustered the courage to talk to her sooner?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp shriek from his right. A family approached down the road, a couple of children hopped about trying not to step on the lines of the pavement and a man hoisted a baby onto his shoulders with ease.

With his heart pounding, several images came to mind; his mother scolding him and his brothers for trying to climb onto the roof, the Twins’ shop, he and Ron playing chess on the sly, teaching Ginny to play quidditch, pulling gnomes with Percy, the smoking towers of Hogwarts, Tonks laying lifeless under the rubble, the image of his family crouched over Fred’s body.

Staring blankly at the spot where the small group had passed, Charlie reached into his pocket and, for a long moment, stayed there, tears silently running down his cheeks and his throat constricting with the thought of everything falling apart.

Tag List:

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #kate williams #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x kate williams #out time to bloom

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

Text

Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 3: Will ye go, lassie?

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Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

4th, July, 1998

Charlie woke up as he did every day to the ray of light coming through the window through the curtains. He untangled the sheets over his knees with his foot, overheated. Beside him, Kate slept soundly and he couldn’t resist staring as her chest rose and fell, an errant ripple of hair on her face.

He watched her eyelids, swollen with tears from the night before, her long lashes resting relaxed; he ran his eyes up and down her neck, surrounded by the chain that once held a dragon-shaped pendant, but was probably found under the rubble of Hogwarts; her chest rose and fell slowly with a few beads of sweat trickling under a t-shirt that had once been his.

He smiled wistfully for a fleeting second, wondering how he could ever manage to share everything with her again.

Gingerly, he moved the sheet that covered her forearms down to her hip, hoping to relieve some of the heat she was feeling.

Today he would talk to her. The day before he had set out to do it, and today he would make it happen. Everything had to come out in the open and if after confessing, Kate still wanted to leave, at least it would be with all the information. But he wanted to be transparent, he needed to be. He could no longer stand not talking about what happened in the battle and everything that surrounded it, he understood Kate had an internal processor, that it was harder for her to open up and verbalise her feelings, but he had to let them out. And what was killing him the most was that no matter how much he talked about it with his friends neither Razvan, nor Andre nor anyone else would understand him as the person he most wanted to talk to and couldn’t; her.

Nodding to himself, he decided he should plan his speech for the morning. He left a kiss in her hair after brushing the lock away from her face and sat up to begin his day.

“Charlie! Charles!” Razvan rushed over and grabbed his arm as soon as he appeared in the tent. “They are born!” A wide grin bloomed on the redhead’s face and he laughed. He threw his rucksack on the ground and followed his friend. A few weeks back, the expedition group had found five eggs and a worried mother inside a collapsed cave, one of them had to be pulled out from under the stones in pieces. After three trips and a lot of patience, they had been able to take the family to the sanctuary.

“...and in two days we will start the reintroduction protocol when Charlie has... Charlie!” Sonia said excitedly as she saw them arrive. “Charlie, do the cub scouting as soon as possible.” She spoke quickly, addressing each of the team members frantically.

He made his way to the tent next to the site from where he pulled out a scale, the specimen notebook, and a camera, which he hung around his neck. After equipping himself with his balaclava, gloves and fireproof overalls, he carried the items to where the newborns were. After instructing the butcher to bring him a bucket of guts, he saw Razvan float towards him and lean against the fence separating them.

“They’ve taken Mama away so you can work.” He commented to him.

Charlie pulled on his gloves and crawled over to the nest. “Hello, babies...” He gasped at the sight of one of the hatchlings still inside half a shell and turned to Raz. “It’s albino!”

The dragon hatchling coughed up some smoke and curled confidently into Charlie’s glove, who was offering him a small piece of meat. Thrilled with the novelty of the day and infected with the joy of his companions coming and going to help Charlie with the hatchlings, he forgot all about his promise to himself, and didn’t think at any point during the day about what he wanted to say to Kate.

The wind was blowing in her face, mixed with dirt and ashes. Her eyes were burning, and she was disoriented, the hard stone of the ground was digging into her hips, and she wanted to sit up, but a sharp ringing in her ears made her lie down again.

“Kate,” someone called to her from above, but she couldn’t see his face. “Kate.”

Suddenly she was on her feet, looking out a window in a castle tower, fearfully making sure that the two bodies she had just thrown out of reached their destination, the ground.

The voice called to her again, and she turned away. Suddenly, in the great dining hall of Hogwarts, a single person stood in front of her; Jacob.

“You’ve done it again,” Kate shook her head in denial with tears in her eyes, she wanted to scream but she couldn’t hear herself. Somehow, she was seeing it all in black and white. “Killing a brother. Only this time it wasn’t yours.”

She swung her hand but didn’t manage to take any steps, only backwards, falling back to the ground. The sand got in her eyes again and someone was calling out to her, but her hip ached and the ringing in her ears was deafening. Something tugged at her stomach and suddenly she was looking out the window, into the eyes of the last one to fall. She wanted to silence her caller, but she couldn’t. Jacob melted into a shadow and the ground shook, causing her to fall to the ground.

The wind. The whistle. The voice. The window. Jacob. The wind.

Suddenly everything went black and a warm sensation swept from her head to the rest of her body.

Hours later, Kate woke up sweaty and with a numb hand, which she shook with a hiss between her teeth. She dragged herself to the bathroom and then to the cabin’s kitchen, finding a spoon stirring a steaming cup of coffee. Like the nightmare, there wasn’t a day that went by without it.

She stepped out onto the porch and sat on the small bench, enjoying the view of the forest and mountains and the warm breeze ruffling her hair. She wondered how Charlie was doing, if he would be all right. Most likely not. With each passing day, his refusal to talk about Fred grew stronger. She didn’t insist either, knowing full well what the feeling was. That was what weighed on her the most; being the only person in his circle who knew what it was like to lose a brother and yet didn’t know how to help him. As she was about to take the last sip, something flying over the trees caught his attention. In less time than it took her to notice, a barred hazel owl had landed on the railing in front of her.

“Hello, Whiskey.” She greeted with a smile. The owl bowed and dropped the mail it carried in its beak before flying to the feeder Charlie had set up on the roof.

Kate finished her cup and set it down to inspect what Whiskey had brought; a Witch Weekly magazine she wanted to unsubscribe to, the Bucharest newspaper and two letters, both from London, but one marked with the clear seal of the Ministry of Magic.

She eyed it warily, not wanting to know how they would want to screw up their lives. Would it be her father? Or a warrant for their arrest for something they did in the war?

She tucked the letter without thinking between the pages of the magazine, suddenly indignant at the magical system that had brought them nothing but misfortune, and opened the other one without delay.

À stór,

I haven’t heard from you for a long time since it all ended. I am writing not only to see how you are and to have you say a few words to your poor grandfather, but also to join me in a new adventure.

As I have done every year since your grandmother died, I am going to the land of my birth and upbringing, Ireland. I will visit my brother Patrick, the only one of my nine siblings with whom I keep in touch.

It would be an honour and a joy to have you join me on this journey, so I invite you and your young dragonologist to spend two weeks in Cobh.

I have many things to show you and I am eager for you, like me, to enjoy the wonders of the place. Besides, there is something I must do and it would be nice not to be alone this time.

If it is not possible for you to accompany me, at least answer this letter. I would like to know what is happening in your life.

With love,

Your grandfather, Bernard

P.S. I will leave on Tuesday, in three days’ time. If you decide to come, I will give you more details.

Kate’s spirits lifted at the sight of the sender. She read it again, making mental calculations whether it would be possible to combine a trip for the two of them. Even if she had never confessed it out loud, let alone to Charlie, she was sick of being in that house.

The wooden walls were still covered with maps, names and notes that neither of them had bothered to remove; the fireplace had stopped working a year ago, when they had had to break it to disconnect it from the Flu net; and as for the layer of dust on every piece of furniture... they had learned not to look at it.

It all reminded her of those dark times that were strangely hard to let go of. And maybe that, Kate thought, was what was killing them.

They needed neutral ground, and it had just been presented to them on a platter.

Taking a deep breath and with a new sense of energy, she reached for pen and paper to accept the invitation.

The day went faster than expected. Kate spent her time thinking about what to wear and in which suitcase, whether she should use an extension charm or normal luggage, sorting her books and deciding which to take with her. With her headphones on and the music from Tonks’ Walkman blaring in her ears, she didn’t hear the door open and close, and kept pacing around the room, choosing the right words when the moment to talk to Charlie came.

He entered the cabin expecting yet another afternoon of silence, Kate working in the tower and the whole house to himself. Nothing had prepared him for the sight of Kate’s half packed suitcase on the bed.

He found her pacing in front of the window, no doubt thinking of how to break the news of her departure. The scene spoke for itself, and he could almost feel his heart tearing.

Kate was surprised to see his desperate expression. She turned off the music as she watched him take a deep breath without taking his eyes off the bed.

“I have something to propose to you.” she began. It hurt less than a ‘we need to talk’ or an ‘I have something to tell you’, but the redhead hugged himself for the worst. “I got a letter from my grandfather this morning inviting us to go to Cobh for a few weeks, I’m going,” She left the Walkman and headphones in the open suitcase and walked over to Charlie, “and I’d like you to come with me.” She said it almost breathlessly, as if a pause, however slight, would give him time to decline.

Charlie stood still, staring at her. She began to look around the room and then at him alternately, rubbing her hands on her thighs and shifting her weight from side to side.

“I’d like to...” He began softly. Before he could finish the sentence, Kate sensed the ‘but’ that followed. Her shoulders slumped, and she averted her gaze to the foot of the bed.

“I understand.” And it was true, but all morning she had allowed herself to think that maybe it could work out, that he would share in the excitement that had flooded her and that the trip would give them some respite. Although on second thought, maybe it wasn’t just his job, if he couldn’t even find a gap to spend weekends with her, why would he use two whole weeks?

“Alright, well...”

“Kate...”

“No, I really understand, it was just in case... you felt like doing something different, I don’t know... forget it.” She took a deep breath and started tidying up the mess her room had become. “I’m leaving on Tuesday, and we’ll be back on the 22nd, I think, I’ll ask you for a favour and that is if you can take me to Bucharest to catch the portkey there...” She talked on and on, rambling about the weather in Ireland and how the portkey would take them to Cork first and then to Cobh.

“Wait, wait...” Charlie leaned over the bed and grabbed the suitcase to stop her from continuing to fold clothes. “You won’t be here on your birthday.”

Kate looked at him in the eye and shrugged. “We didn’t have any plans in mind, did we?” she sighed again, “Can you take me to Bucharest in the morning?”

“Su...sure.”

Kate saw the question in his eyes and shyly answered it with a half-truth, “I don’t want to apparate, yet.” Charlie just nodded.

They stood looking at each other apologetically, trying somehow to fill the silence that, for the first time was becoming uncomfortable.

“Did you put cream on your knee?” Kate asked softly, moving a little closer. Charlie shook his head, waiting for her to move further towards him. “Yesterday, at least?”

“Yes, but it won’t go away.” He took a step so he could stand closer. Immediately, the scent of her hair reached his nose. He saw her move her hands nervously, wanting to lift them, but placing them at her sides again. He took them in his and thankfully noticed her relax.

“It’s just to ease your pain. I’m working on it but... I can’t.” She sighed deeply and lowered her head. “I can’t.”

He pulled her to him and left a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling her untangle her hands and run them around his waist. He reciprocated the embrace and dropped his head onto her shoulder.

“It’s okay.”

Kate sighed against his neck, debating whether she should explain to him why she couldn’t find him a solution to the curse that had bounced off his leg.

“Do you want me to...?”

“Yes, please.” He didn’t let her finish the sentence and Kate breathed a chuckle without turning away from him. Charlie also made no pretense of getting rid of this embrace that, however little it was, was healing them inside.

“I’ll have to go get the cream then...” he tightened his grip, muttering an ‘okay’ against her brown curls, not letting go. They swayed slowly, taking advantage of the small moment that had come their way, nourishing each other’s warmth despite the high temperature that day, listening to their tranquil sighs and their paced hearts.

Kate rested her forehead on his shoulder and took a deep breath.

“Sit on the bed.” She whispered after a while. She released her grip and headed for the kitchen, but not before stroking the stubble he’d grown. She smiled a little. He looked older all of a sudden; the red beard that extended down to his neck; the long hair he’d managed to grow, but which really only reached below his ears because it was so curly; his jawline had been refined; the muscle in his arms and the broad back he had from his exercises with Raz... He looked handsome. Was there no other word?

“What?” he asked in a whisper as he caressed her waist.

Kate snapped out of her reverie and motioned for him to sit down and remove his trousers while she went to get the ointment.

He sat down in his underwear and looked at his knee as a prickling sensation ran up his leg. It was swollen and throbbing, and he had to bring a hand to it to soothe the pain. A variation of sponge-knee curse. That’s what they’d told her at the hospital, and why Kate had argued with a nurse and had been studying in her tower since they’d returned to Romania. Charlie hadn’t dared to contradict her even though, deep down, he knew his leg would be like this forever.

He watched her approach and kneel in front of him with the flask in her hand and a notebook and pen in the other.

With a concentrated expression, she put two fingers on the throbbing lump on his knee and looked at her wristwatch for a few seconds. She wrote a few numbers on the paper and set about applying the cold cream.

He closed her eyes as she began to apply more pressure, feeling a mixture of pain and relief, noticing how the substance hardened on his skin, becoming impossibly icy, only to suddenly melt and begin to emanate warmth. He exhaled.

In those moments of silence they were sharing, Charlie came up with something he should have tried a long time ago; he opened his mind, leaving it blank as Kate had once taught him, and put his knowledge of legilimency to use. He concentrated on connecting with her mind, as they had done so many times during the war, searching the ether for messages, news or support. But this time, nothing.

That tunnel through which he was to travel was black, empty and silent. No one on the other side. He opened his eyes with a slight crease between his eyebrows.

Kate concentrated on the circular motions of her massage, satisfied with how the lump dissipated under her touch, oblivious to her partner’s concerns. She squeezed with her thumb a little harder and Charlie hissed through his teeth. As she continued, her other hand slid down to caress his calf apologetically.

She looked up several times, nervous at times, as she saw Charlie’s worried face staring down at her. Suddenly, she felt exposed. She watched him open and close his mouth several times, trying to find words to say to her but unable to express them.

She tried to hide a sigh and steeled herself for what she was about to hear; if Charlie was so uncomfortable with her at home, let him say it once and for all. Every day it was the same story, and she was tired of him not telling her. Come to think of it, she wasn’t voicing her complications out loud either, but Kate didn’t focus on that, with her it was more normal but with Charlie that had never happened. What if she asked him directly? Maybe she’d have to hear something she wasn’t ready to hear, that she was invading his space, that he needed time alone to process Fred’s death, that he didn’t need anyone to heal his knee, that it wasn’t enough to try to give him space anymore...

“Do you want something to eat?” Charlie asked in a breathy voice as he saw that the swelling had gone. Kate sat up, leaving her sticky hand in the air, not wanting to touch anything.

“No, I have...” She cut herself off as she saw Charlie was going to keep talking, but saw him lower his gaze. “I’m not hungry now.”

He nodded, “Thanks for the massage.”

With a sincere smile, she held up the jar of cream, “Of course. I’ll make some more.”

She slipped out of the room and then out of the house, no longer able to bear the way they were treating each other like strangers, but with an intense need to hug him again like before she had treated his knee. She headed for the tower, leaving Charlie to put on his clothes.

He didn’t know how to interpret that moment; a few seconds ago it had seemed like they were fine, they’d melted into a hug that Charlie needed more of, but everything suddenly got strange. As he made his way to the kitchen, he questioned his legilimency skills, not understanding why he had encountered such resistance in Kate’s mind. A void he wasn’t familiar with.

A small tapping on the roof and then on the window caught his attention. Stepping out onto the porch, he found Whiskey standing at the railing ready to go into the woods.

“Goodnight.” He whispered to him, stroking his head with a knuckle. The owl took flight, leaving Charlie alone with the sound of crickets.

After scanning the area, passing his eyes over the mountains in the distance, the forest in front of him and the meadow to his left, and checking that everything was in order, he went into the house but not before picking up the magazine Kate had left forgotten on the bench. He tossed it on the coffee table without looking and set about making sandwiches for them both, not noticing the official envelope that had fallen to the floor and which he would later find with trembling hands and a weight pressing down on his chest.

Next Chapter >

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#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #kate williams #charlie weasley x kate williams #charlie weasley x oc

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

Text

Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 4: Potion Making

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Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

1933, Cobh, Ireland

Bernard lowered the bike to the ground where the others usually lay. He had reached the clearing where he would meet the rest of his classmates.

He walked a little further into the forest, approaching the central tree. The silence of the place made the sound of his moccasins against the soil deafening. A shiver ran through his body as he strolled through an area that was barely touched by the sun. The vegetation was abundant, green, damp. The central tree split its trunk into three large parts covered with thick green moss, which twisted around each other until they were lost at the top of the treetops.

He circled it cautiously, putting his hand in the pocket of his shorts, touching only the fabric. He hadn’t brought his watch, so he could only wait. With a leap, he clambered onto a wet rock and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on them and on his clenched fists, his chin.

He listened to the surrounding sounds; the birds, the faint murmur of the nearby stream, the voice of Astilles, the young centaur teaching the children in the third circle. The boy’s mind began to fantasise about attending Magic Applications classes. To be able to start casting spells and potions, interacting with animals, transfigurations? It seemed so unattainable... When he turned 6, he was excited to start classes at Marlogue Woods like his siblings, however, he spent three years condemned to learning to read and write English, Irish and Latin, and simply doing calculus like Muggle children. That was the reality of Circle 1: General Studies, taught by the ever-laughing witch Marsaili.

He sighed in resignation. It had only been a few weeks since he had started Circle 2: Understanding of Magic, but so far they had done nothing related to magic. Daartir had spent his time talking about energy and trees and water, and worst of all, none of his siblings were with him to share in his suffering. He couldn’t help but feel envious of Jane or Lili, who by their brilliant merits had been rapidly ascending to the more advanced Circles, Magic Applications and Mastery of Magic. Ancient runes, apparition, ancient studies, dark magic... A world full of possibilities.

He raised his head and looked around. Just as he was beginning to think that perhaps the class had already started, and they had gone to another part of the forest without him, the braided trunk began to move slowly, untangling the branches that snaked around it and revealing an oval-shaped hollow of darkness.

He descended from the rock as an elf emerged from the bowels of the tree wearing a friendly smile. He wore a brown cloth waistcoat with a hood with holes, allowing his long, pointed ears to stick out of them, and matching trousers. On his feet he wore green rain boots, so large for his short stature that they came up to his thighs. The greenish tone of his skin made him almost invisible as he blended in among the leaves and branches of the area.

Just as Bernard saw Daartir emerge from the tree and the trunk curling back behind him, his classmates arrived so that the class could begin. Two kids approached Bernard’s bike and left their own beside it. A girl with bronze skin and hazel eyes approached the tree after hopping off her bike, waving at Bernard and offering him a smile. An almost copy of her appeared next to Bernard, who, although knowing she was a year older than her sister, had trouble distinguishing them.

“Eva, Marianna, Bernard. Welcome.” the raspy voice of Daartir reached them as they shared their hellos. “Today we will not go to the usual place…” he said mysteriously. “I think you are ready for something… new.”

With sparkling eyes and excited questions, the three students followed Daartir across the forest, occasionally guiding themselves with the walking trails and, of course, the signs that prevented inquisitive muggles from approaching the area.

After fifteen minutes of walking, the pines began to scatter, allowing them to see more of the skies and the water of the shoreline until they revealed a tranquil beach. Concealed with green hills in the distance and the line of the dense forest at their backs, Daartir had led them to a secret spot Bernard was sure no one had found before.

“Where the ocean meets the woods.” Daartir described as he let his ears free from the hood, revealing a grey patch of thin hairs on top of his head. He threw his boots away from him, not bothering where they landed, and stormed off to the water. He clapped once and extended his arms, looking at the children. In less than two seconds, a spiral of water swirled around him, grabbing his legs and waist as if having a mind of its own, elevating him in the air.

“Today we will do some magic.”

With a feeling of accomplishment bubbling in his veins, he pedalled off as fast as he could towards the road, eager to tell Mam what he had learned at the stream that day. Large fields on either side stretched as far as the eye could see, green and yellow colours decorating the landscape, which, although monotonous, made the journey home a pleasant one. With the wind in his face and ruffling his blond locks, he stood up a little to gain speed, knowing that in a few seconds he would pass by The Shack, a place made of pieces of metal and wood, most likely intended to store tools and equipment for field work but that for Bernard, it was the home of a wicked devil who took the children who passed by on the road. Or so Paddy had told him, and he knew a lot more about the area than he did.

He buzzed as fast as his thin legs would allow, barely noticing The Shack lag to his left. He sighed in relief at the sight of the stone wall on either side, indicating that the danger had passed, and sat back in the saddle, slowing down. He took a quick glance at his wristwatch, without stopping, and calculated the time he had been pedalling. Next stop: the White House. He stopped his knees, letting the momentum carry him along the road and enjoying the leafy yellow flowers that decorated the edges of the road, moving his legs every now and then to keep moving but not interested in gaining speed.

The sky suddenly clouded over, lowering the brightness of the colours of the landscape, and Bernard jerked violently as a shiver ran through his body. He lost control of the handlebars for an instant, causing him to lurch from side to side of the road. He let out a groan as he regained control, hoping he wouldn’t have to jump off the bike to get his feet on the ground. Once he had steadied himself, he looked back for a second, checking that, even though the road was deserted, no one had seen his slip. He was sure his nose was red with unwarranted embarrassment.

The walls of The White House rose through the trees, and garden features appeared as he went: the clothes line with hanging clothes, the rusty swing, and the picnic table that, to his disappointment, no one was using. His stomach growled at the thought of the bread and butter he could have got, and he pedalled harder, wanting to get home as soon as possible.

The landscape suddenly changed, the trees became thicker around the road, forming a tunnel of leaves that shadowed the road and made it difficult to see the surroundings. As he dodged rocks and a few potholes (surely put there on purpose to disturb his cycling path), he thought about the tricky part of the road: the Yellow Farm Crossing.

“Let’s see...” he muttered, “if to come, I turn right... to go back...” He reached the intersection faster than he had anticipated and, in a moment of short-circuit in his reasoning, headed for the road to the right so that, a tenth of a second later, he swerved left, raising a cloud of dirt around him. “Shit!”

He coughed a little as he continued on his way, forgetting about his slip when he remembered what was coming: Old Niall. A nasty old man who had no qualms about telling anyone who breathed near his tomatoes anything but compliments, including him. Especially him.

Bernard pedalled hesitantly, slowing down to steer the bike with one hand, while with the other he brushed dust from his hair and adjusted his rucksack on his shoulders. Squeezing the brake gently, he rode past the old man’s house, inspecting the small orchard, and stopped after the last wooden plank of the fence.

He stretched out his legs and for the second that the bike remained balanced, Bernard leaned to one side, making anyone who saw him think he was about to fall to the ground. However, having had practice with a bike too big for his size, he put his foot on the ground at the last moment and jumped so that he could uncross his other leg.

He carefully set the bike down on the ground and crept over to old Niall’s garden. All the curtains in the house were drawn and there was no sound from inside.

A single tomato hung from the plants behind the wood and, with an inexplicable thirst for revenge, he leaned over the planks that reached his stomach and stretched out his arm as far as he could. He lifted his heels off the ground for extra momentum, and the moment he brushed against the fruit, a clatter of keys broke the silence. In a last-ditch effort, and with his heart pumping at full speed, he grabbed the tomato and then yanked it, slipping away with his conquest before he was caught.

He looked back in terror as he put the prize in his backpack and with as much strength as his scrawny arms would allow him, he lifted the bicycle in a single movement. He started pedalling without sitting up fully and lost himself in the bushes and trees that were his accomplices in the crime that made him laugh out loud for a long time.

The density of the houses began to increase as he went on. White, yellow or green, the farmhouses in the area alerted Bernard that he was approaching the little village of Ballymore and thus the halfway point. He sped past the walls of the buildings, weaving through cats, litter, and several tractors that weren’t supposed to be there. Engrossed with the idea of bragging about his impromptu theft to his siblings, he came to the fork in the road out of the village which, had he been more focused, he would have followed the wooden arrow that clearly indicated the road accessible to cars, which in white letters read ‘Cobh’.

He turned off onto the dirt track to the left where the landscape was overshadowed by the trees towering over the stone walls, the leaves touching the canopy and creating an ever narrowing dark passageway that barely allowed a glimpse of the sky. Having travelled too far to turn back, Bernard kept moving, but with a strange feeling in the back of his neck.

The movement of the trees, the shadows across the trunks, the stony silence, the unfamiliar path and the idea somewhere in the back of his head that old Niall had run off after him, Bernard’s mind began to become suggestible, swirling to be alert to every little change in his surroundings.

He was terrified.

He lightened his pace, desperate to find his way out of this increasingly cold tunnel. A strange figure appeared like a shadow in the distance and in no time it changed from a terrifying child-eating monster to a woman walking a dog.

Bernard stopped pedalling, as if it took his concentration away from breathing, and once he was calmer, he slowed down in front of her. She was an older woman, with very light blonde hair, almost white, on her shoulders. She was carrying a dog that Bernard couldn’t tell if it was brown with white spots, or white with brown spots, but it was wagging its tail around the bike.

“Excuse me, ma’am...” he began almost breathlessly.

“Breathe, boy,” she said in Irish, "where are you going in such a hurry?" she squealed, giving a tug on the leash. Bernard plopped down on one leg, watching as the dog sniffed at his heel. “He likes you.”

“I’m going to Cobh, but on my way out of Ballymore...” he pointed back.

“Don’t you worry, follow the path and when you get to the crossroads, always keep the sea on your left.” she said with a smile. Bernard breathed a sigh of relief and, unable to resist, scratched the head of the dog that had sat next to him. He propelled himself with the foot he did have on the pedal and set off.

“Thank you very much! Have a nice day! Bye, Bye!”

They waved to each other as if they were lifelong friends and he left them behind, taking a deep breath.

The instructions could not have been clearer. The exit from the grove greeted him with blinding sunshine illuminating the entire bay, not a cloud in sight, the water of the sea reflecting the sun’s rays on its surface and stretching all the way to the shores of Hadwell and Aghada. He slowed to focus and contemplate the wonderful day that had lingered after the morning clouds. He was stopped on a paved road. To his right, the road climbed slightly and as he turned, the new perspective opened his eyes. He knew exactly where he was! He had just found the usual path, only by a different entrance. He checked his watch and let out a sound like an ‘hm’ as he calculated that he had gained time with his mistake. The day couldn’t get any better: he had learned to mould water, he had taken revenge on old Neill and found a secret shortcut his brothers didn’t know about.

With a smile on his lips, he continued, this time unhurriedly, enjoying the sea air and the vivid colours of the countryside. After a few minutes, he knew he was approaching Cuskinny Beach and thought perhaps he could soak a little, just up to his knees, as he had more time than usual and would not be late home. He would even try to practise what he had learned in the forest to show his mother.

However, his plans took an unexpected turn when, as he faced the whole line of Cuskinny, he saw a girl sitting on the low wall separating the road from the small stretch of land leading to the sea. He slammed on the brakes.

The girl was facing him, sitting cross-legged in a brown dress that lent modesty to the slightly unbecoming posture. She looked Bernard’s age, but he couldn’t see her face. She was far away and also focused on something in front of her. Brown waves fell across her forehead despite her hair being in a braid. He got off the bike with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. This was his special place. No one ever went there, least of all the children, not even his siblings wanted to be there. They said it wasn’t a “real beach” because of the lack of sand. He gripped the handlebars and pulled it to his side with a determined stride as he approached the intruder.

“Hey.” He said in an angry tone, still walking. The girl raised her head and her brown eyes fell into his blue ones. She gave him the brightest smile Bernard had ever seen on anyone, and he stopped.

“Oh, hi.” He barely noticed how sweet her voice sounded, distracted with how she seemed to treat him as if they knew each other. The girl waved and went about her task. That’s when Bernard looked down at the stone wall, where she was working, concentrating on putting mud, pebbles and leaves into a jar. He raised his lip in a grimace of disgust and confusion and left his bicycle leaning against the wall. Remembering why he had stopped, he spoke again.

“You can’t be here. Sorry.” he blurted out firmly, his eyes flicking between her dirty hands and her pink complexion.

The girl stopped what she was doing and raised her head. With a serious look on her face, she replied.

“I can do whatever I want.” She resumed her task as if Bernard were not there.

He was getting impatient. Who did she think she was? She couldn’t come to his beach, to his wall, sit down and pretend she owned it.

“But I come here all the ti... what are you doing?” he asked in exasperation as he saw her cover the vial with her palm and shake it with both hands.

“Potions.” she commented simply. “You can help me if you wish...”

Bernard’s face lit up. A kid around his age and she was already doing potions? That was advanced magic, for grown-ups, you had to go to the Circles of energy and nature first...

He climbed the wall in front of her. All the jars, twigs and stones between them. He noticed she didn’t follow any technique; she just put mud, stones and sand, stirred and added dirty water from the beach.

“That’s not a potion.” Bernard commented, growing increasingly nervous with her behaviour.

“Says who?” She looked at him again, serious, but after a few seconds she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just a game. But it amuses me to think it’s potions. Then I draw on the rocks, and when it dries, the drawing is stuck.”

Oh.

He was one of those people Da talked about. A person without magic. But, they used to be in the centre of Cobh, the muggles, not on the coast road.

“What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you before.”

She pointed a finger towards the sea, and Bernard followed the direction with his eyes. A red boat floated in the distance, a person seemed to be inside.

“I’ve come with my father. He’s testing a new net.”

“Ah...”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

He looked up again to find her holding out a bottle with brown water and floating seaweed. He accepted it without a word and poured the water into the container she indicated.

“Always put the mud in first because otherwise it’s hard to mix.” To reinforce her point, she raised her arms to show the patches of dried mud all over her skin. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

“Well...”

“It’s okay. I’m Julia! But everyone calls me Julie.” Before she continued her concoction, she corrected, “Except Kira, but because she’s dumb and mean and I don’t want her to call me that.”

He blinked rapidly at all the new information. “I’m Bernard.”

“Hello Bernard! This can be a friendship potion now...”

When confusion and surprise left his body, Bernard reacted in the only way he could think of to what Julie was proposing.

“Alright, but for the potion to work we have to drink it.”

Julie broke into a loud laugh, and Bernard had no choice but to join her. He never thought he was particularly funny and had no intention of doing so at the time, he just wanted her to be disgusted, but once again this girl left him speechless.

“Okay.” she blurted. Bernard’s eyes went wide. “What? You don’t dare?”

“But… well... what if... what if this potion doesn’t work like that?” he managed to dodge what could be something that would make him vomit. “Maybe it’s enough to get on our skin. Like that.” He pointed at her arms. “And when it dries, it means we’re friends.”

“Sounds good to me!” she chirped, following the logic of the plan. “But this potion is missing something... It has to be different from the others.”

They stood in thought, looking at the materials at their disposal and every now and then looking towards the soft waves on the shore. After a while of comfortable silence, Bernard shouted excitedly, making his new friend jump.

“I’ve got it!” He took off his backpack and put it on his lap. He rummaged inside, and held out the tomato, now a little dented.

“Perfect.” she whispered. She took it out of his hands and with one of the twigs she had she poked a hole in it and then squeezed out the juice into the jar. She stirred again and held out her palms as if she were presenting a discovery. “I’ll start!” She dipped two fingers into what was mostly mud and scooped some out. Without giving him time to think, she rubbed them up and down Bernard’s cheek.

“Hey!” He mimicked her with indignation and amusement in equal parts, and rubbed the mud on her cheek, leaving an identical stain.

“There!” she said triumphantly. “When it dries, we’ll become friends. Although...” she trailed off. “I’ve never done this with anyone before, so... I guess we already are.”

After an hour, Bernard went home with a warm feeling in his chest. At first he went slowly, not wanting to leave his new friend on the beach alone, but looking at his watch, he started pedalling as fast as he could, making excuses, knowing what he’d get for being late, practising his best angelic face, and trying not to let his lungs burn from all the effort he was putting in.

He arrived in record time, but when he reached the gate leading to the house, he slammed on the brakes so hard that a high-pitched sound came from the bike.

A group of strangers emerged from the inside of the road. There were four of them and they were all dressed in black, with matching triangle necklaces. The tallest of them noticed Bernard and gave him a macabre, toothy grin. The boy shuddered.

Suddenly, they all disappeared into thin air with a faint ‘puff’. Just then, his father appeared through the gate, striding out with a more serious expression than usual. He saw Bernard and snapped his fingers as he pointed behind him.

“Get in the house. Now.”

Without complaint, Bernard hopped off his bike and walked onto the road, dodging his father’s attempt to wipe the smudge off his face. And as if the rest of the morning hadn’t happened, the day darkened for more reasons than the clouds in the sky.

Next Chapter>

Tag List:

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x kate williams #charlie weasley x oc #katherine williams

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

Text

Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 2: Lost

<Previous Chapter - All Chapters - Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

3rd, July, 1998

In a clearing near a forest, in the depths of Romania stood a tower with a single circular room at the top. Magically hidden from Muggles and even other wizards, Kate could work quietly without being interrupted, though in recent months she had used it as a bunker rather than a study.

There was a time when it was just ruins that Charlie had found when he moved into the small cottage down the road, but when they decided to move in together, partly because of Kate’s need not to depend on her family’s money and because they could no longer bear to live so far away from each other, Charlie refurbished it for her. All her papers, books, pots and jars would no longer be scattered around their small bedroom, but in this extra space full of shelves, a makeshift greenhouse and even a raised area with a couple of old armchairs. They never found out why it was there or who its original owner was.

Kate arrived at the building a few minutes after leaving the cabin in near darkness. Before entering through the heavy wooden door, she stared at the road behind her, only the dim light of her house was visible, and for a painful moment she wanted to run back to it to greet Charlie, who would be getting home anytime soon.

She climbed the spiral staircase to the top floor, where her little refuge was. The smell of smoke made her forget the tension in her home, replacing it with another kind of desperation; the need to use her hands, her brain, to make notes, to stay active, because if she stopped, she would have to face the image of Tonks lying on the floor; Lupin, next to her with his eyes open; screaming children, flashes of light and thunder; Fred.

She sighed and left her leather jacket on the coat rack next to the banister before heading for her desk. The candles on it were still burning, and it was the only thing that lit the place. At the sight of the mess on the table, she took a deep breath, slumping into the chair with a tired groan. She brought her fingers to her eyelids, rubbing gently to remove the burning sensation.

The last two months after the war had been draining; too many funerals, too many tears, too much guilt. The last funeral they attended was Fred’s and Kate didn’t dare to look any member of the Weasley family in the eyes, not even Charlie.

She tilted her head to the side, bored with herself, following the path of a viscous green liquid that made its way down her now broken cauldron, and glanced at her wand next to it. When would she find the courage to confess to Charlie that she had not been able to do magic since the battle? Wand, wandless, no potions, no transfigurations, no legilimency, no animagi form, not to mention that all her plants were dead or about to dry up completely. It didn’t take magic to take care of a plant, so apparently her passion for herbology was diminishing a little more each day. When would she find the courage to tell him she was there when it happened, when one of the Weasleys stopped being a twin?

She snorted, thinking about her work; she couldn’t go back to the mediwizard world, either, after having....

She averted her gaze again, angry at her wand, these days only functioning as a wooden stick, taunting her from afar. She did a double-take when Grimoire, her bengal cat, leapt onto the table at that instant, getting a gasp from Kate.

“Freeze!” She stood up with one finger pointing at the animal. Grimoire stared wide-eyed as she picked up the shards of glass strewn across her desk. “I have to buy heat-resistant jars...” she muttered. She let out another frustrated sigh when she remembered the boxes she was supposed to bring to tidy the room were forgotten at home. The trip to the tower had been pointless.

After the sudden reprimand, the cat sat by the cauldron, scanning the room with decaying interest.

“You know perfectly well you can’t be in here.” admonished Kate as she placed the broken jars to one side, away from Grimoire. He snorted in response.

Her hands tensed momentarily, and she quickly brushed her hair away from her face. Frustrated with the untamable locks, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, twisted in on itself and reached across the desk for her wand, so she could pin the bun in place. The cat mewled when Kate grabbed him with firm hands and left him on the floor. He rapidly scurried away towards the seats at the other end of the room, where Charlie had set up a small sitting area with two small armchairs and a table.

Charlie.

They hadn’t spoken since that infamous day. Each passing day Kate lifted more stones around her heart, feeling that special connection they once shared fading by the day. Each morning she would find the bed empty and breakfast made, Grimoire already fed, the day’s food prepared for her in the fridge and a heartbreaking silence throughout the house. At night, Charlie would come to the tower to ask about her day and briefly share his. Some days they would have dinner together, talking about more and more banal things each night, avoiding the hippogriff in the room that was eating them up inside.

Kate didn’t understand. She didn’t understand what had happened to them that day. Charlie had suddenly become mute, and she didn’t know how to get him out of it. How could she get her russet-haired boy back, the one who had once promised to tell her everything? If the reason was because he knew Kate had had a hand in Fred’s death and was making her pay for it, a cruciatus curse or outright termination of their relationship would be less painful.

Kate gasped at the sudden thought. Would it really be better to end it all rather than endure the silent torture she was carrying inside? And in that case, where would she go? What would she do?

She plopped down in one of the armchairs, having wandered around the room without realising it, and a conversation from a year ago came to mind, a moment that left her heart stinging.

They stared at each other with the kitchen table in between them.

“It’s in my head and it hurts, and I don’t know if it’s going to be the right decision and I’m… sad. Thinking this way makes me sad.” Kate blinked rapidly, alternating her gaze on his eyes and his face, trying to understand why in the midst of all the crap they were in, Charlie decided to add this kind of doubt to the mix.

“To be honest, I… didn’t see this coming and I don’t know what that says about me… or us.” Kate looked down and focused on her way-too-long nails, and momentarily considered going to the bathroom to give them a trim and escape from the conversation.

Charlie’s sudden doubts of their approximately five-year relationship took her by surprise, and the last thing she needed now was losing the only good thing that was happening in her life.

Looking up again, she took a deep breath and prepared for battle.

“I know that me being away all the time is not the ideal situation and I can look for another job if… if that’s what you mean, I know we’ve been relying on you but I told you we had my savings and…”

“It’s not that. I just… It’s hard. Doing this is hard. Watching you walk away all the time is hard and not knowing if you are coming back is even harder.”

“It’s not easy for me either, you know?” she snapped, increasingly irritated.

“I didn’t say that it was.”

“I won’t stop working for the Order. I can’t do what you are asking me to do.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m just telling you how I feel!” Charlie rounded the table that separated them and stormed to the couch in front of the now empty chimney of their living room.

She was looking at the spot he left behind when he walked away, and it took a moment for her to remain calm and finally turn around.

Tentatively, she sat on an armchair in front of him and curled her legs under her.

“For how long have you been feeling this way?” she said, trying to sound as soft as possible.

“Just before you... arrived from your last mission, I was going to talk to Bill.”

“About?”

“Nothing in particular, but then he said something that made me think. You were unconscious and while we waited for you to wake up, he insinuated that... there’s a point in a relationship where... either you break up or you get married.”

Charlie took a peek at her, slowly enough to see her confused expression cross her face. She remained silent, afraid to look at him and insecure about how to proceed.

Anxious because of her lack of words, he spoke again, his voice above a whisper.

“Would you want to marry me?”

“I thought we agreed that marriage isn’t important to us.” She rushed to say.

“And what about... children?”

“Why are we talki…? I’m not ready to have that conversation now, and neither are you. Whatever Bill said about relationships may apply to him, but he doesn’t know us like we do.”

Kate stood now, suddenly brave, as she was now figuring out what may have happened with Charlie’s behaviour. She sat next to him on the couch, but he kept looking at his knees.

“I know that we’ve changed a lot since Hogwarts. We are not the same people we were when we got together.” She let out a breathy laugh that ended up being more watery than she intended. “We aren’t the same people as last year. I can... I can understand that maybe love isn’t enough anymore.”

At that, Charlie looked up and found her eyes, glossy with contained emotion and probably matching his own.

“It’s not that. Bloody hell, I shouldn’t have said anything!”

“No! Why? Because you think it can’t be fixed? We’re stronger than that.” He attempted to stand up, but she gently grabbed his wrist and pulled to make him sit by her side again. When he complied, a shaky breath left her mouth.

Her hand made its way up to his hand, grabbed it and brought it to rest on her lap. She traced his fingers and the lines of his palm, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly when he curled his fingers at the contact.

“Just for a moment,” she said, “tell me what you want and not what Bill or your mother expect you to do. Yes, I know your mom has a lot to do about what’s going on here.”

“It’s just so... confusing. I don’t want to end it and go separate ways, I really don’t.” A heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders at that moment. Without retrieving his hand from hers, he leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

They stayed like that for moments that seemed longer than they were, Kate caressing his hand looking out of the window while Charlie tried to keep his composure, shaking his head from time to time.

“What would happen if… if we break up?” He asked, still looking up.

Kate sighed and tried to answer as sincere as she could.

“I would probably go back to London. Get a flat somewhere. And beg Madame Louise to give me a job at St Mungo’s again.”

“Do you... would you prefer living in London?”

“I’m here because of you, Charlie. I’m not going to lie. If there’s nothing left for me here, then…”

“I thought you wanted to live here…” He tensed, and she noticed. She moved her other hand on top of his and secured it there. Perhaps to prevent him from running away, perhaps to have something to remind her what was at stake.

“I do not regret moving in with you. I would follow you anywhere. I hope you know that. I like the life we built here and I… I,” she choked up thinking about what was next, because it would probably hurt them both “I wish I could say I wouldn’t change it for anything but… I can’t sit here, knowing that a war is coming, and I didn’t, at least, try to prevent it.”

“I’m not asking you to quit for me. I’m… not like that.”

“I know.” She turned to look at him and squeezed his hand. Suddenly self-conscious, she feared how her face must have been looking: probably red and puffy from unshed tears.

“Do you think it would be easier to go on our own ways?” She threw the question too fast. She regretted asking immediately after she finished.

“Godric, no. No.” Kate took a deep breath and nodded. Maybe there could be hope.

“The only thing I can say is that begging for you to keep with this… would be unfair for you if...if this is not what you want. And that… the only good thing about my life right now is knowing that I can always come home to you.” Charlie was looking at her now, with those brown, slitted eyes that once made her fall in love but at that moment only wanted to make her cry. “And just to make sure you know, yes. I would marry you, but not like this. Not because we may die in a near future or because we are expected to do that.” He nodded, but Kate’s hopes rapidly evaporated when he stood up to face the window.

Another instance of silence left Kate agonizing in her seat. She waited impatiently for his next words, and it took great strength not to pressure him further.

At last, Charlie turned again to face her. She searched his face, afraid of what she would find, but willing to search anyway.

“So…”

“What do we do?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his face and tired eyes, on the verge of defeat.

“I want you to be happy, Charlie.” she said, raising a shoulder.

“I won’t be.”

“But you aren’t happy now.”

Charlie chuckled sarcastically and shrugged. “Well, no, but just because there’s people that want to kill everyone I love.”

She laughed out of pure nerves and attempted to lift the mood, failing in gigantic proportions. “Yes, that’s pretty reasonable.”

Kate’s eyes unintentionally, or maybe not so, moved to a framed picture of them that rested on a table next to the couch.

She remembered that day well: it had been Barnaby’s birthday, and miraculously the gang managed to be all reunited for a night. Barnaby brought a camera he had been gifted and gave Kate and Charlie something to remember that day.

They looked happy, and they were for a few hours. She remembered how he sat on a stool at The Three Broomsticks, exhausted but with a grin plastered on his face; how she playfully sat on his lap and teased him about drinking enough fire whiskeys to make a dragon tipsy; how, after laughing, they noticed the flash of the camera that Andre was holding and that captured the moment they admired every day.

“We make a good team,” she started. “Your hands are warm, mine are cold; you know about animals, I know about plants; you like sports, I like sleeping…” At this point she was standing face to face with him, a sense of familiarity calming their nerves without knowing it.

“If you are going to say that you are the brain and I’m the muscle, I’m going to tickle you.”

“I said nothing of the sort…”

“You did! Once!”

“An insignificant slip.” She dismissed with a gesture of her hand.

They stared at each other with sad smiles and hearts, waiting for the other to say something reassuring or, at least, something that wouldn’t break their hearts in two.

Charlie inhaled deeply and yanked her to him, burying his head in the crook of her neck and circling his arms around her.

Kate tensed visibly, but when Charlie squeezed her to press her further against him, she finally relaxed.

She drew circles on his back, up his shoulders, tangling in his hair and down again. When he breathed, relieved, she mimicked him, pressing her face against his neck.

“You are worth fighting for.” he murmured into her hair. Kate just hugged him closer and both of them stayed that way; rocking gently from side to side and content knowing that it wasn’t all lost, after all.

“You are too.”

In a valley of the Carpathian Mountains, hidden from the Muggle and the untrained wizarding eye, an entire camp of explorers and lovers of winged creatures was spread out.

As Kate sat in her armchair with tears in her eyes, Charlie Weasley was thinking of her.

Sitting at a picnic table inside a tent, his gaze was fixed on a parchment with pictures on it he kept out of focus, immersed in his thoughts.

“Well?”

He lifted his head to come face to face with Razvan’s hover chair, who was steering the brooms across the table.

“I don’t understand mechanics, Raz.” He said, handing him the parchment. His friend sighed and furrowed his big eyebrows, concentrating on his diagrams.

As muggle-born as he was stubborn, Razvan was well known for his metal-charming abilities for helping flightless dragons with devices of his own invention. When Charlie arrived at the sanctuary years ago, the two became best friends almost instantly.

Raz left his sketches on the table and waited for Charlie’s response, which never came. “The longer you wait, the worse it gets.”

The redhead clasped his hands in front of him, crestfallen.

“Honestly, I don’t know what your problem is.”

“I already explained it to you.” Charlie snorted, exasperated.

“Yeah, but I just don’t get it, mate. You’ve been like this for weeks.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You really haven’t spoken to her since... that?” Razvan had not participated in the war himself despite, his protests. He was a key player in Charlie’s gained contacts, thanks to him and his uncle they managed to get half of Romania on their side. However, when it came to the moment of truth, when an urgent owl sent from Scotland claimed that the war had started earlier than expected, Charlie left the camp almost without saying goodbye. Perhaps if the sender had not been Kate, it would have given him time to take two of the dragons Sonia was training.

“She’s the one who won’t talk.” He mumbled, pulling off his fire-protective gloves. “She hasn’t said a word to me about it since we got back. I’m not going to push her.”

Razvan nodded with a heavy sigh. “That’s all very good, mate, but you can’t go on like this. Look at you.”

“I don’t need you to remind me I’m having a hard time, Raz.” He brought his hand to his face and then to his hair, grimacing, remembering that it had been too many days since he’d last washed it. “I’m sorry.” Raz shook his head.

“At any point did you tell her what you told me?” he asked as he rolled up his drawings and gestured to Charlie to pass him the leather tube up to him.

“No. But I know that’s why she’s more distant. I always do the same thing to her...”

“Stop that.” Charlie rolled his eyes in anticipating the same, almost weekly, conversation for the past two months. “I can’t believe Kate, the only person I’ve ever seen who defends you tooth and nail, who sometimes won’t even let us tease you and who has always listened to you, suddenly thinks you’re a heartless monster because of that nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense.” He interrupted. Razvan, irritated, held up a hand to let him continue.

“It is, because Kate is a rational person and she’s not going to buy that crap you’re trying to pin on yourself.”

Thinking about how she dodged the issue hurt him more than talking about it. They lived together, slept together, shared the same space, and still they were unable to find the right words to describe what the war meant to them. With each passing day, Kate was becoming more and more of a stranger. The situation was getting out of hand, but he didn’t know how to handle it. He wanted to hug her, hold her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay, that they just had to talk.

Just like always.

Maybe Razvan was right. Maybe he wasn’t as horrible as he thought. But why didn’t he let go of that feeling of guilt, of failure? They won the war at a price that, had he known, he would not have been willing to pay. And that, he thought, realising for the first time, was what perhaps he dared not say to her face. Had he known his brother would die, he would have considered getting his family out of Scotland before it all blew up and never set foot in Hogwarts again.

Razvan threw up his hands, surrendered, and floated over to the curtains that doubled as a door. “Don’t let Sonia see you whining in the corners, or she’ll send me to cheer you up.”

Charlie breathed an unamused laugh and tapped the table before standing up. He couldn’t stop thinking that he would soon have to return home, a place that once had been his refuge turned into a mausoleum of painful memories.

“And how are you?” They both walked out of the tent towards the last rays of sunlight that could be seen from the mountain. Charlie put a hand on his shoulder affectionately.

“Heh, ‘m fine. Waiting for the results... “Charlie tilted his head and frowned. “You really are slow these days. You took an exam and wrote a fucking 200-pages paper for this...”

Charlie tsked and with the movement of his head he saw Sonia’s blond dyed curls bounce towards them.

“Here we fucking go…”

“So…” She said raising her pointy chin at them, “how are we feeling?” She eyed Charlie suspiciously when he just nodded.

“Pretty confident, boss.” Razvan commented.

An uncomfortable silence washed over them. They shared timid looks nodding, waiting for the other two to say something. Sonia ended the exchange clapping her hands once.

“Well, good luck, then.” Both friends watched their boss hop away into a tent.

“Why is she always so… awkward?” Charlie shrugged, not paying much attention to what Razvan kept saying. Kate would be in her tower, so maybe he could have some alone time to process what he was going to say. He needed her support, he needed to tell her that in a matter of days he would know if all the work he put in for the past years was worth it. And he needed her arms if he got denied by the Apuseni Program.

“I’m going to talk to her.”

As he had predicted, the house was empty. He walked over to the unwashed pans and cutlery in the sink, limping a little at the stabbing pain he felt in his knee from time to time. He aired the wand and immediately the soap began to do its work in the air.

He walked over to the fridge and checked with a somewhat sad half-smile that his dinner was waiting for him next to a small jar of Kate’s ointment. The post-it stuck to it read “Circular motions. X”

Until that day, it was Kate who applied the cream to his wound and Charlie could swear that the only thing that soothed him was the warmth of her massaging hands.

He grabbed the plate and the cream, adding between his fingers a bottle of beer that he ambitiously balanced as he walked.

And that’s when he saw it.

A cardboard box on the threshold of the room they shared lay open on the floor. He set the things down on the coffee table and, moved by curiosity, walked over to inspect the contents sticking out of the box.

Inside were more unfolded boxes, some broken vials and a book he had never seen before. A woman on the cover was peering at him from behind her glasses with an Augurey resting on her shoulder.

“Herbology, Magizoology and Potions. British Ministry of Magic’s Research Wing, by Gethsemane Prickle.”

He flipped it over, suddenly holding his breath, and scanned the description of the essay in which Prickle detailed her experience as a researcher for the ministry.

In any other circumstance, he would not have given it much thought. However, a conversation from the previous year instantly flashed into his mind.

His mouth dropped open in realisation. That conversation, the book and the cardboard box were proof enough that Kate intended to leave Romania, and not for a mission for the Order, they were no longer necessary, no. This time it was for good.

Charlie headed towards the tower with a worried expression. He could see a faint light coming from her study, and that gave him some reassurance.

He pushed open the door and climbed the stairs to the top. Not seeing her from his position, he approached the desk. His heart clenched, fearing to find books, clothes or her notebooks. Instead, he stared directly at a green sticky mess dangerously slipping down the drawers. He pulled his wand from his belt holster and muttered a cleaning spell.

A sniffing sound alerted him. Turning around, he made out Kate’s silhouette in the shadows, lying on one of the sofas. He placed his wand next to hers and made his way to the small living room, trying to take several calming breaths in the process. After reaching the table, he crouched down in front of her, leaving them facing each other.

Slowly, and trying to project an aura of calmness, he rose, only to gently grab her shoulders and lift her upper body. He slid in behind her and sat down on the couch, letting her lean against his torso. Kate rested her head on his shoulder, finding warmth and a familiar sense of security in him. She felt his arm around her, pulling her even tighter against him.

Charlie stroked her hair as she sobbed, quickly losing control of his own emotions. He began circling her back to soothe her, and himself as well, when Kate grabbed a handful of his flannel. He met her hand, not letting it move from its place over his heart.

Without knowing it, they were both asking the same questions over and over again: would they be able to be in the same space, touch each other, look at each other... without suffering? What was the other holding back and why? How could they go back to the way they were before?

Next Chapter>

A/N: Publishing this way sooner than planned so I put Charlie out there. But I won’t be able to update every 3 days thats for sure lmao. Also this chapter is dedicated to @toads-in-my-pockets for claiming she wants them to be happy but secretly wanting the angst

Tag List:

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #Kate Williams #charlie weasley x kate williams #charlie weasley x oc

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

Text

What If

Summary: The night before Bill’s wedding, Charlie and Kate find themselves squeezed together in one of the Burrow’s rooms. In an attempt to find some sense of normalcy, they allow themselves to be silly and talk about what their lives would have been hadn’t met at Hogwarts. Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship.

Quiet as a mouse, Kate tiptoed over the creaky floorboards of the Burrow towards Charlie’s room. The door squeaked when she pushed it open and she winced. Not bothering to light a candle, she closed the door behind her without taking her eyes off Charlie’s figure on the small cot.

It wasn’t a big space, just enough to fit a single bed and a dresser next to it. A small round window helped the room not be so claustrophobic.

The man moved on closer to the wall, silently making space for her, and placed one foot on the mattress, leaving his knee up.

Accepting the invitation, she lay next to him on her side. They remained silent for a while, the events of the past days replaying in their heads incessantly.

George was injured. Moody was killed. A wedding was coming.

Kate eyed him with worry and was about to say something when Charlie twisted the hand closest to her, meaning to caress the nearest body part. Without moving his stare off the ceiling, he caressed her thigh with a knuckle.

“How is he?” He murmured.

Kate sighed and scooted her head closer to rest it on his shoulder, hiding her tired eyes on his shirt.

“Hole-y”

“Oh, not you too…” he couldn’t hide the faintest of smiles and felt her own against his arm.

“He got extremely lucky.” She added, suddenly solemn. “But he will have it like that for life.”

Charlie turned, limbs clashing and tangling, wiggling onto his side to face her, squirming to be in a more comfortable position.

“Next time, we banish Bill and Fleur from the bigger room.” Kate commented as she hugged his torso with one arm.

He reciprocated her touch and his hand came to rest comfortably against her shoulder blades.

“Oh, I’ll make sure of that.”

Wrapped in a hug, both of them tried to relax their muscles with a long sigh. Some copper curls fell in front of his eyes and she chuckled, keeping on the amused smile as he tried to lift them up with huffs of breath. She knew he wanted to improve her mood, and his own, allowing himself to be silly for once in a long time. Laughs were scarce since the war started and they fed with only crumbs of joy when they managed to find a moment of intimacy.

She studied his face; it was worryingly paler than usual, only his freckles gave him a more natural colour. He was thinner around the cheeks too, and his beard had grown quite a bit as well as his hair.

Noticing her stare, he questioned her with a lift of the brows.

“You will look handsome tomorrow.” He smirked at her comment and squeezed her closer.

“And to think… you were going to make the fatal mistake of wearing that blue dress.” She started to reply, but he kept talking over her, “No, don’t get me wrong, it looks enchanting on you, but then we wouldn’t match.”

Kate shook her head, amused.

“You’ve spent too much time with André.”

“What can I say?” A deep laugh escaped him as she sneaked a hand under his shirt and started caressing his lower back with a thumb.

“I didn’t know you liked it so much that we matched each other.”

He hummed, “Not all the time, of course, just when it’s fancy.”

“Oh, so now we’re one of those couples?” Suddenly, Charlie’s smirk faltered. The question was clear in his eyes. “I’m just teasing you, love.”

He relaxed again, the flash of insecurity forgotten.

“And what kind of fancy events are you talking about?” She added with a chuckle, “We don’t get invited to those, we live in a forest.”

“Hypothetical fancy events. If we were that sort of people who attend balls and such. We must match, that’s a rule. So, if you wear the blue dress, then I’ll need to find a matching tie or something.”

Kate hid her face in the pillow, and in between uncontrollable giggles she added,

“What in the name of Merlin are you talking about? I have never ever in my entire life, seen you with a tie.”

“Well…”

“I’ve seen you with muddy boots, and fireproof vests, and muddy trousers, and fireproof balaclavas, and muddy…”

“Alright, alright, but that’s because you’ve met me very young. I’m getting more…refined now.”

“Sure…” She snickered, and he threw her a smirk, imitating her gesture and lifting her top to touch skin.

“Who knows…perhaps if we hadn’t met I would be a completely different person.”

They remained pensive for a while, considering his statement.

Would they be?

“Somehow, Charlie, I don’t think so.”

He smiled again then, not playful, not teasing, just content.

“In the hypothetical situation where we avoided each other entirely at Hogwarts, do you think we would have met at some point?”

“Well, I think so. Here at the Burrow maybe, you got along with Bill so maybe we could meet when I came to visit. Perhaps here! At his wedding.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t even look at me, then, because I would be wearing the blue dress.” She attempted to tease him again, not expecting him to match her tone.

“No, you wouldn’t, because I was there when you bought it.”

They laughed nose to nose, gripping each other more closely in the process, legs wrapping around one another.

“I would still be working at St Mungo’s”

“I would be at the reserve, no doubt.”

“I maybe, just maybe, would invite you to dance with me.”

“And I would have fallen in love with you just as easily.”

Kate was left stunned by the raw sincerity in his eyes. Her gaze travelled from his irises towards his mouth, barely resisting the urge to touch her lips to his inviting ones.

He closed the gap, trapping her upper lip with enthusiasm. She whimpered and then giggled, surprised by his loud smooch when she was going for a soft peck of the lips.

“And that would have been a problem.” He continued, lips brushing each other. “Because you would have appeared with a renowned Mediwizard by the arm and I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Funny you ignore the bubbly dragonologist you would have brought with you.”

“That would have been just for show.” He started slowly pressing against her so she would lie down on her back.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t know that…”

He hummed when she grabbed him by the upper arms to balance herself and bring him along in the process. Charlie turned and lift himself with an elbow, resting his chin on his knuckles.

He kept his other hand busy, leaving long and slow caresses from her hip to her knee and up again.

Kate’s thoughts suddenly drifted to that imaginary scenario; dancing at Bill’s wedding, both of their companions forgotten somewhere. She had known Charlie since they were very young, and she cherished having grown up alongside him, but she knew at the bottom of her heart that meeting an adult Charlie for the first time would have devastating effects on her. In the best of ways.

Kate knew the smirk he was giving her, she knew he could get inside her head and know exactly what she was thinking. She had to look away.

Seizing the opportunity of her turned head, he bent down to press a kiss right behind her ear and her eyes closed automatically.

“I prefer to think that I would have come alone.” She murmured after a while.

“Both single then?”

“Of course.”

“That’s better.” Kate locked eyes with him again, “Then I wouldn’t feel so guilty about not taking my eyes off you all night.”

“I feel like this alternate-Charlie is very flirty.”

“Would the alternate-Kate be receptive to that?”

“Perhaps…but,” he raised an inquisitive eyebrow, “But I don’t think you would act like that. In this scenario, we would know each other from school. Would you really have the courage? The only thing you would know about me is that I was the Cursed Girl.”

“Scratch that, then. We don’t know each other. You studied in another school.”

“Me? Why me?” She said a little too loud. Charlie laughed and placed the hand that had been on her hip over her mouth.

“There’s no way Mom would allow me to go to some other place.”

She could practically see his eyes darken when she placed a kiss on his palm. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers before caressing her neck with his fingertips. He flattened his hand on her chest and made his way down her sternum, over her waist and finally on her hip again. Kate was left breathing heavily under him. She concentrated on relaxing again, but his fingers against her skin were making it very difficult.

“Fine. I went to Ilvermony. I never met Bill, so forget about the wedding. Where would we meet?” Raising a hand, she delicately drew back the red locks falling on his forehead and rested her palm on his chest.

“I bet you would be bored out of your mind and you would seek adventures in Romania. And I would assist with that.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded. Making himself more comfortable, he rested his chin on the palm of his hand, their faces getting closer. “Imagine this: tired of the routine, Katherine Williams takes a leap of faith and decides to follow a hunch crossing the ocean towards Romania…”

“Why there?” she interrupted, hypnotised by his deep voice. He always fascinated her with his ability for storytelling, real or invented, he managed to keep her (and everyone for that matter) desperate to hear more.

“Because…” He made a pause, before a toothy grin adorned his face. “because she read that a very curious flower is native to that land, and hungry for more information, she parted towards Transylvania.”

“What does the flower look like?” She whispered. Taking her hand off his chest, she brought it to his shoulder and down his biceps. He delicately squeezed her hip in return.

“Don’t you know?” He teased, “It’s white, purplish in the middle. Somewhat bell-shaped and with big leaves.” He closed the gap between their faces slowly, touching her nose with hers. Her eyes fluttered close when his lips ghosted hers and travelled across her cheek, barely touching her skin. All the while murmuring, “And it’s very, very, poisonous.”

“Wait.” she chuckled, “Are you talking about Datura stramonium?” Charlie placed a soft kiss right before her ear began and resumed his previous position above her.

“What else? You were obsessed with that thing for months. Now let me finish, will you?”

Kate shifted below him, raising a knee up and resting it against his hip, trapping his body between her legs. His gaze lowered to her lips.

“Alright, alright, go on.” She apologised, not missing his lusty stare.

“As I was saying, Katherine Williams tracked this flower across the forests of Romania, but one day the woods were still. Too still.”

“It doesn’t really grow in fores…”

“Shh, right behind the trees, she saw a long horned-tail disappear. She decided to follow the creature…”

“Absolutely not.” She snickered.

“...and after walking for a while, the forest opened to reveal the valley where a Dragon Reserve was settled. She figured it couldn’t hurt to ask around about the flower, and rest in the meantime.”

“Did anyone there know about it?” Kate asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course not.” They shared a hushed laugh while Kate lifted his shirt slightly, caressing his side absentmindedly. “But they offered drinks and some food, and a bunk bed in one tent if she needed it.”

“Who offered?” She smirked, knowing the answer.

“The handsome redhead of the bunch. They connected, “Charlie raised the hand on her hip to snap his fingers quickly, “just like that.”

“Wow, she really lucked out that day, huh?”

“As did he.” Kate pressed her leg against him, trying to bring him closer. His fingers moved from her hip to the back of her other leg’s knee and just when she thought he was going to lift her leg, he caressed his way back up. “They explored the forest together from that day on, naturally, she needed a guide, and he was quite smitten with her. And that’s it.” He finished, surprising her.

“That’s all? That’s how it ends?”

“Well, it’s a love story, it doesn’t need to be complicated, does it? They fell in love and lived happily. With no bigger concerns than his dragons and her herbs. He built a tower for her and everything.”

Suddenly, the small smiles playing on their lips curled down. Was it wrong indulging in that wishful thinking? Could they ever have that life someday? The life they thought they had been building before everything went down? Their eyes met, a little watery, a little bittersweet.

“They grew old?” she asked with a small voice. Charlie let out a breath, holding back emotion, and leaned down to place a lingering kiss against her lips. Not soft, not teasing, just loving and reassuring. She lifted her head to reciprocate the pressure, and they both parted slowly after that.

“They did. With some scars and burns, but they did.”

Without another word, he lifted himself up slightly and let his weight fall on top of her slowly. The arm he was leaning on disappeared between them and he allowed his head to rest against the crook of her neck, his face buried against her skin and hair.

Kate’s arm curled around him, automatically searching his red locks, anchoring him to her. They lay in silence, her massaging his scalp and him hugging her waist, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘dragonologist follows a dragon across the world…,” she said all of a sudden, “and ends up severely injured…’”

“Kat!” Charlie gasped, “I know you’re a healer, but I don’t need to get hurt in this invented scenario.”

“And you woke up in a bed, a little disoriented, but with your wounds taken care of and a healer sitting at the end of the bed.”

He shook his head against her neck.

“I don’t think I like this game anymore.”

“But I patched you up so nicely, not even a mark on you remaining.” At his silence, she started rearranging her story to a lighter tone when he asked, face still buried against her hair,

“And then what?”

“Well… I needed to keep you there for a few days to make sure you were alright. And you argued with me, whining about your lost dragon.”

“Listen, it was of utmost importance. And I was clearly alright, why wouldn’t you let me go?”

“I was just doing my job… I let you go then, and we didn’t see each other for a few days. Until one night, you came to the hospital looking for me.

“Was I injured again?” He asked with an uninterested tone as she kept her finger massaging his head.

“No, you found me hunched over some scrolls and asked me to go to a bar you discovered the day before.”

“Oh..?” She felt him smirk against her neck. “How did I know you would be working so late at night?”

“A quick and correct assessment of my personality that took you less than a day and you bragged about all the way to the bar.”

The redhead pressed himself against her, squeezing her waist with teasing intent. She felt his mouth opening against her skin, and with practiced delicacy, he wrapped his teeth around her skin.

“I knew you were going to accept the offer.”

Kate repressed the urge to squirm under him but cursed to herself when he noticed her shifting her hips towards him.

“We had such a great night that from that moment, you came to pick me up after work every day for a few weeks.”

His eyebrows met his hairline. “Only a few weeks?”

“Well yes. You had to go back to Romania.”

Charlie raised his head, breathing some cool air and turned slightly so he would look at her. Kate felt he was about to say something, so she let him a moment to figure it out.

“I didn’t touch the portkey.” He said softly, making Kate hum, a question written on her face.

“We parted after our last night at the bar. But I couldn’t take you out of my mind all the way to the portkey station…”

“And you saw me there,” she interrupted. “I apparated there to stop you.”

“And I did.”

Kate averted her gaze to the ceiling, swallowed once more by the recently acquired fear of the unknown now that a war was looming around the corner. She felt Charlie’s hand raise from her waist, and he gently placed a finger on her chin, making her turn to look at him.

“It seems only fair, Kate,” he whispered with an uncharacteristically serious expression, “That when the time comes you find a life away from Romania, I will follow you. Wherever you lead. Just as you did for me years ago.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “I would not touch a portkey for you as well. Not just in your invented story, in our reality as well.”

Her hand moved from his curls towards his face, cupping his cheek, her thumb drawing circles across his freckles. And she didn’t resist leaning in, silently thanking with a slow kiss his words, his presence there with her, his support, his friendship, his love. She tried as hard as she could to kiss away his worries and doubts that mirrored her own, letting him know with every rocking of lips and every caress of her thumb that whatever happened they would get their lives back. They would get their simple and uneventful love story they so wished for and was currently threatened.

They would make sure of it.

A/N. Once again. It turned out more angsty than I had planned. Why am I like this? Someone tell me. Also, it was a bit of a nod to the world cup fic eh? They’re just like that what can i do. (is their love lowkey insipred by where you lead by carol king? unintentionally yes.)

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x original female character #charlie weasley x ofc #kate williams

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

Text

Our Time To Bloom

Chapter 1: Imogen Elopes

All Chapters - Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

1930, Cobh, Ireland

It had all started with a damned letter. Fiona, corpulent, raven-haired and matriarch of the Walsh family, had been training her owls in the barn when one of them arrived with the mail. All her children were in the house and their excited screams had alerted her to the event. Once again, and for the sixth time in a row, a letter from the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts, was arriving in the mailbox to state that one of Tadgh and Fiona Walsh’s children had been admitted.

Bernard stood at the top of the kitchen stairs, hidden in the shadows, with his striped pyjamas and a wooden train carriage under his arm, listening intently to the argument taking place at the table.

“What will they do with our babes there, eh? Dress them in the same clothes and force them to stay away from their families for a year. That’s unacceptable.”

“Tadgh, try to understand. This is the sixth letter we’ve received. They accept all of them, and when Bernie and Seán show any signs of magic, I’m sure they will receive theirs as well. It’s a huge opportunity…”

He heard sighs and pots and pans, the sound of the newspaper being opened, the creak of the cupboard door and liquid being poured.

“Are we going to fight every time one turns eleven?” His mother said in a tired tone.

“No child of mine will go to Hogwarts. And that’s my final word, Fiona.”

“Well, I’m not finished!”

“The Kenmare Kestrel are playing this Sunday.”

“Cornelia deserves a proper school, more friends her age to open her mind and explore new possibilities. Just like our other nine children. Stop reading the paper!”

“It’s too dangerous! Don’t you understand?”

Arms wrapped around him from behind, and he was about to scream if it weren’t for a hand that prevented him from doing so. He kicked with his bare feet for his older sister to release him from her grip, but was unsuccessful.

“For an eight-year-old, you have a lot of strength.” Walsh’s second oldest daughter whispered to him. “Come on, you must learn not to meddle.” Muireann carried her little brother up the stairs to the alcove, where the beds of the 3 younger brothers Brian, Bernard and the youngest Seán were located.

“Let go of me, you filthy slug!” whined Bernard as he stuck the toy train in her back. Seán came out from under his sheets to find out what was going on and immediately sat up to go to his brother’s side. “We didn’t read anything today...” reproached Bernard to his sister shyly once he set him down on his mattress.

“That! You said you’d help us with Grumble the Grubby Goat today!” Seán pointed out as he tried to pry the wooden train out of Bernard’s hands. Muireann sighed.

“I know what I said but look at everything that’s happened... Pa and Paddy are so busy in the workshop they’ve even asked me to come along, I’ve spent the morning polishing broomsticks, I’m still learning how to apparate and Ma’s asked me to take 3 of her owls to Cork... and Imogen was supposed to do that but she’s nowhere to be found.” Bernie and Seán listened to her intently. They both looked at each other with a knowing smile.

“We know where Imogen is...” sang Bernard with amused eyes. His sister watched them as they laughed together. “She’s down at the river with O’Carroll’s nephew.” He confessed to her in a whisper.

“The Muggle who sells eggs at the market?” They both nodded. “And how did you little monsters know that?” They both laughed and hid together under the covers, kicking and pawing to keep their sister from uncovering them.

“We’ve seen them, haven’t we Brian?” Muireann noticed him for the first time and went over to tuck him in. He turned with a grunt and a shy “yes.”

“You know perfectly well that you can’t leave the grounds of the house except to...”

“To go to classes!” Completed Bernard, “but it’s just that we saw them there, but Imogen didn’t walk us home! She went to the other side of the woods...”

The brothers’ smiles faded as they saw their sister’s worried face. Without a word, she went about blowing out the candles and carried Seán to his mattress and then tucked him in. “Don’t let them find out that you’ve biked back alone from Marlogue.” She chortled once everything was dark. “Good night.”

“Good night, Muireann!” the three brothers repeated at the same time.

As soon as the door closed behind his sister’s skirt, Bernard darted for the small window that let in a shaft of moonlight. He hung as best he could on his forearms to inspect the driveway to the house. Imogen had not yet arrived.

“Bernie! You’re going to get caught!” Whispered Seán.

“Yeah, because of you! Don’t talk!”

He climbed down from the window and tiptoed over to the door, sticking his ear against it. Way clear.

He crept out into the hallway and managed to make his way down to the second floor, avoiding the rotten step. Before he could continue down to spy on his parents again, he heard a groan coming from one of the doors. He waited, unmoving, for fear of being discovered for the second time that night, but there was no one in the hallway.

He approached the door with a green ribbon on the knob and heard someone sniffle.

“Lili?” he mumbled as he turned the knob. Cornelia and Jane, two of the middle sisters, shared a tiny room that only held two small beds. Jane used her numerous storybooks as a small table to support a candle that barely lit the room. While she was reading, Cornelia was bursting into desperate tears.

Forgetting his mission of espionage, Bernard rushed to his older sister’s bed to succor her. “Lili, what’s wrong?” he asked as he sat up, crossing his legs.

Holding her handkerchief tightly, Cornelia managed to calm herself so she could talk. “Pa won’t let me go to Scotland.” The three siblings heard the door creak again and held their breath.

Seán’s little head popped up with a remorseful expression. He closed the door and climbed onto Jane’s bed with difficulty. “Pa says we all have to study at Marlogue. That they won’t teach us useful things at school.”

“And what would he know? If he’s never been to school...” Jane pointed, pushing her blonde curls away from her face.

“That’s what I told him, but he got mad and now he’s yelling with Mam downstairs. And then I told him that I want to be an alchemist when I grow up, like Aunt Arabella, and that they don’t teach me alchemy in the forest, that I have to go to school.”

“What is Al-che-mis, Lili?” asked Bernard, pronouncing the word for the first time.

“It’s a person who studies ancient magic and properties of the elements.” She recited the definition from memory. “And they teach it to you in school.”

Bernard looked at his sister with wide eyes, wondering if, perhaps, in a few years his father would forget that he didn’t like school and he would have the opportunity to go to that place his sister talked so much about but which none of the people in that house had ever seen with their own eyes.

“And what’s it like?” Seán asked in a whisper. Cornelia’s face lit up for an instant, but she brought her eyes to the door nervously. She climbed off the bed and ducked under it, dragging her white nightgown along the wooden planks. From under the mattress, she pulled out a crumpled sheet of parchment which she unfolded once she had climbed back into bed.

It was a pencil drawing of a castle with two smiling people in front of it.

“It’s a huge castle, very very old, it has ghosts and creatures from all over the world!”

“Like dragons?” Seán moved closer to inspect the drawing, treating it as an accurate blueprint of the place she was describing.

“Yes. And sea monsters, too.” Jane gasped at her sister’s description.

“That’s why Pa doesn’t want us to go; it looks dangerous...”

“Well, when the letter comes to you, you tell him you don’t want to go, so he’ll love you more...” her sister attacked.

Bernard tugged at her nightgown to get her attention.

“Maybe we can change his mind if he sees how much you want to go.” Cornelia shook her head, eyes filling with tears again.

“He wouldn’t even let Imogen go, and she’s the oldest of us all...” pointed out Jane.

“Nor Paddy... and he’s very smart.” Seán whispered.

Bernard was thoughtful; Cornelia was very good and very clever, (not as smart as Muireann, but that was because Ann was so much older), she always left him her pencils, and gave him part of her breakfast if he was hungry. She always taught him the words she learned in her Circle in the woods, even if they were for grown-ups, and she never tattled when she saw him up on the roof of Mom’s barn.

If any child in the Walsh family deserved to go to Hogwarts School, it was Cornelia.

“Come on!” said Bernie, jumping out of bed.

“No! It’s no use. Besides, in the letter it said I need... a lot of very expensive things, and also a wand, and of that we don’t have.”

“Let’s send a letter to Aunt Arabella! I’m sure she has things you can use.” Bernard insisted. “Wait here!”

Not caring that it was nighttime, and he was supposed to be in bed, Bernard ran upstairs holding onto his pyjama pants, reached the alcove, and dropped to his knees in front of the window with a resounding thud. He ignored Brian complaining about the noise and carefully lifted the wooden board in front of him. He rummaged through the dust, fumbling with a jar, his nail with a weird symbol on it, a piece of candy he was saving for a special occasion, and finally his little cloth bag.

Leaving everything in its place, he clutched the pouch and stopped dead in his tracks.

Even from the alcove, he could hear his father roaring in the kitchen.

Imogen had arrived home.

In the blink of an eye, the whole family was awake and attentive to what was about to happen. Bernard and Brian went downstairs to join their siblings on the second floor, and sat next to Seán, peering through the bars. Cornelia and Jane watched from above. From there, they saw Muireann, Adeline and Collin watch from the second floor staircase and they all heeded Paddy, who from the hallway leading to the kitchen, pointed his finger at them to keep quiet.

“And what’s that supposed to mean, Imogen?”

“Well, what I told you, Ma, that we’re getting married.”

Bernard’s eyes widened, and he covered his mouth with the palm of his hand.

“And what are you going to live on? He hasn’t got a job and neither have you.”

“He does have a job!” the older daughter defended herself, “And I’ll work with him. His parents have already told him the farm will be his.”

Fiona sighed. Bernard could picture her looking up at the sky as she always did when she got upset, and his father as red as a tomato.

“The last thing we need now is for you to run off with the first lad you meet because you don’t want to work in the workshop!” His father accused.

“Nobody wants to work in the workshop!” his daughter shouted as her mother tried to calm her down. “What do you think? That Patrick would rather cut broom hairs instead of being in the harbour, which is what he likes?”

“Leave your brother out of this, Imogen, we’re talking about you going off with a boy we don’t know to a family we don’t know.” Stated her mother in a serious tone.

“It’s Finn O’Carroll, Mum.”

“A Muggle!” shouted her father, growing increasingly angry, “You are minimally aware, kid, of how dangerous that is? The blood supremacist groups, the attacks everywhere...”

“That maniac is behind bars. He won’t do...”

“He’s free, Imogen!” her father blurted out, to suddenly lower his voice and whisper loudly, “and there’s an anti-Muggle group here in Cobh! We saw them hanging around the store. So don’t tell me you’re going to put yourself in danger just for that lad, because I will not allow it.”

What was said next in that kitchen, Bernard didn’t get to hear. He saw his sister’s jet hair rush past Paddy, only to return with the same rage, heard the shouts of his parents calling for her to come back and the kitchen door opening and closing loudly.

And in that stony silence left behind by Imogen, Bernard wondered if that had been the last time he would see his sister.

Gradually, the whole family dispersed after the heated event in the kitchen and each Walsh sibling disappeared into their rooms. All except Bernard, who remained glued to the banister and stroking his little cloth bag.

This was their chance. They couldn’t say no.

He slipped downstairs, knowing that only his mother was in the kitchen making tea, as his father had gone after Imogen in a fit of rage. He plucked up his courage and stepped out of the darkness of the hallway so that the light from the kitchen would let him see.

Fiona was sitting, nursing a steaming cup, and was startled to see him.

“Bernie. You should go to bed.” She said seriously, with no room for argument. Instead of replying, Bernard boldly approached with an outstretched arm, handing her the cloth sachet. “And what is this?” she sighed exhaustedly.

Four sickles fell into her palm.

“Mam...it’s for Cornelia to go to school, so she can have a wand.” He said in a whisper.

Seeing that her mother didn’t respond, he began to sway back and forth on his feet. “And… and for books too, if that’s enough. She wants to be al-che-mis, like Aunt Arabella, and see water dragons and... and... and... more things.”

His mother’s eyes glazed over, and Bernard wondered if he should sell his wooden train, perhaps for parts, so he would earn more.

“Oh, my sweet boy.” She held out her arms for him to come closer and wrapped him in a warm but tight embrace. And as he caught his breath and shook off his mother’s grip, something wet touched his nose.

It wasn’t her tears, they couldn’t be that cold. Fiona looked up and then at her second youngest son, who, from one moment to the next and driven by the upsetting feelings of that night, had caused fine snowflakes to fall on them. “Oh, Mo stoirín.” She sighed and crushed him in her arms again.

Bernard, not quite understanding what was going on, let himself be protected in that embrace, thinking about whether perhaps he should save a lot more for when his own letter arrived.

Next Chapter>

A/N: Take this as a prologue which you can skip, but maybe return to it if you engage with the story later on. Every flashback to the Walsh family is key to understand not only Kate’s grandfather’s actions but also the mystery that unfolds. I don’t know how consistently I will upload, I have 4-5 chapters but posting it is a good incentive to get back to this story.

If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

Let’s start this new adventure <3

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#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hphm #jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #kate williams #post battle of hogwarts timeline

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

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Ol’ Saint Nicholas

Part 1/2: Aurora

Summary: Against her wishes, Kate returns to her home for the Holidays, dreading the threats that await her in Williams Manor. She will have to face once more who she considers her mortal enemy and possibly the cause of Jacob’s disappearance.

Pairing: Implied/ Mentioned Charlie Weasley x ofc/Jacob’s sibling

Warnings: Mature, death/murder

A/N: Not your typical Christmas fic, it won’t be jolly, always here to provide angst and weird shit. The pairing is referenced because all my stories happen in the same universe. This is the Christmas after starting year 6 of Hogwarts. I stopped following hphm storyline in year 4 so maybe I took some liberties.

A proper christmas fic with charlie in it would be A very Walsh Christmas

Wouldn't you know that you'd

Be responsible for all the holiday noise?

Wouldn't you know that we'd be just like

Other little girls and boys?

The day was clear, disgustingly bright for the mood I was in, and it didn’t suit the place either. Tall, black metal fences opened when the black carriage that took me to this… my house arrived.

I said my goodbyes to the chauffeur and stepped out while securing my backpack on my shoulder, leaving my trunk behind.

Just as I was about to walk, Prim, one of my grandfather’s assistants apparated next to the carriage, grabbed my trunk and disapparated just as fast. I just hoped that they wouldn’t confiscate the gifts that the Weasleys gave me that summer for my birthday.

I sighed at the thought of Charlie, the Burrow, and the goodbye kiss we shared at King’s Cross, while staring at the block of stone and bricks that was the Williams Manor.

It stared back at me in the distance, tall and long, smirking at how all my secrets would be revealed when I crossed its threshold. I had to close my eyes, concentrate on something that wasn’t the splendid summer I had spent with the Weasleys, something other than a certain redhead that miraculously reciprocated, and most importantly, erase the memories of the start of this year at Hogwarts.

The first step I took towards the Williams’ grounds couldn’t have been more of a warning; looking down, I found my converse half-deep in mud and I sighed once more.

The terrain changed into grovel, and I rounded the black fountain, now frozen, towards the front door. I didn’t jump at the clunk of the gates smashing against each other behind me, or at one of the stone sirens at the fountain following me with her gaze, nor at the two suits of armours, one on each side of the doors, who suddenly pointed their spears towards my face.

“You should be able to recognise me by now.” I stated at them. “I live here.”

No response.

“Or maybe someone could update the system to something less invasive? Like a voice sensor or a secret code?”

I cocked my head to one side, delaying the inevitable. “How about a doorbell?”

The knights crossed their weapons, blocking the door, and I considered just for a brief moment apparating out of there. It would be illegal, yes, and difficult. Bill had been teaching me, but I couldn’t seem to get the hang of it just yet. Maybe running fast enough I could catch the car back to London…

If you are going to stand there… careful with the new vines that we planted.

A shiver ran through me. I almost forgot what it was like, what the feeling of the house being inside your head at all times was. I didn’t recognise the voice, maybe it was Nicholas, maybe one of the knights. Either way, I couldn’t resist a response.

I would prefer them over this.

Resigning myself after waiting for another attack on my psyche, the fear of freezing to death convinced me to just… accept it.

I reached out my hand aiming at one of the spears, and the knights were on the move again. They never cut too deep, just enough to draw out a single drop of blood. I hissed when it pricked me. I almost forgot that pain, too.

The drop travelled rapidly down the spear, growing bigger as it went, leaving silver sparks wherever it touched, and disappearing just as fast. The knight pointed at the lock and the drop jumped inside. I crossed my arms around myself as the two guardians returned to their original position, unmoving.

I patiently waited for the soft click that I heard, and after a loud thump both doors opened before me, letting me see the interior. Of course, one more obstacle awaited me, the magic detector barrier placed at the threshold, courtesy of Nicholas Williams.

I stepped through the invisible curtain, which glowed with my presence. My backpack opened with force, spitting my wand and a pair of earmuffs. Both of the items were left floating at my sides.

Almost immediately, Prim apparated before me. That day he chose a tall, languid, unhealthily pale appearance. Metamorphagi could turn into anything they wanted, and it never failed to surprise me how Prim seemed to prefer looks that make him resemble a serial-murderer. The only way to identify him was the unmistakable odour of the perfume he, in my opinion, bathed with instead of water.

“What is that?” He asked, pointing at the earmuffs.

“Hello, Prim. Merry Christmas to you too. That is for herbology homework.”

The lie slipped out of me too easily. Since I started being able to talk, I learnt how to take advantage of Prim’s poor knowledge of… everything. The man was as dumb as a teaspoon.

He hummed and clearly needing to attend to more important matters, he disapparated once again, not before cleaning my shoe with a hand gesture and a disgusted expression.

I picked my wand and earmuffs from the air and put them back in my bag again as I walked the long hallway inside.

To my left, the lights distracted me and I stopped to admire the living room, fully decorated for Christmas. I had to admit that as much as I hated staying inside the house, preferring my room or the outdoors whenever possible, the holidays decor deserved to be admired. Approaching the threshold, I peeked as carefully as I could, trying to avoid the guests who sat on the couches to see me. At least there was no sight of Nicholas, and since the living space was mostly empty, I would not be reprised for being the last to arrive. That gave me a bit of time to settle.

Taking one last look at the roof-high tree in front of the fireplace, I resumed my way.

The house was surprisingly quiet for Christmas, except for the music coming from the living room and the faint murmur of dishes being handled in the kitchen as I approached the also Christmas adorned staircase.

I couldn’t even take a step upstairs when the sound of a door opening came from my right. I turned my head, holding my breath, waiting for her to come out. However, the door to my grandmother’s studio only opened more, with no one stepping out.

Contemplating if I should just ignore it or giving in to the clear invitation, I heard steps coming down the stairs. I held my breath for a second, only to see Henriette, one of the cook’s assistants, murmuring under her breath with haste.

She halted when she spotted me, and I recognised the terror of almost encountering someone she didn’t want to. The same terror she probably saw on myself.

We relaxed and shared a smile.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Williams. It’s good to see you.” Her green eyes clouded with worry.

“Merry Christmas, Hattie. Is everything all right?” She huffed a laugh and gave me a sweet smile.

“Perceptive as always.” She glanced at the studio’s door and returned her attention to me. “Just a change of menu. I was going to help extend the table…”

Something above my shoulder prevented her from finishing her sentence. I turned around to find Prim staring at us from a distance.

“I must go. I hope you had a nice start of classes.” I just nodded, watching how both disappeared through the living room door.

I turned again, facing the opened studio. No one had come in or out. Fine.

Walking to it and opening the door fully, I found my grandmother sitting at her desk, her perfectly symmetrical built-in bookcases at her back. The cream walls were always plastered with paintings of dead ancestors that would judge me as soon as I entered the room.

Soft music came from a violin playing itself in the air at the corner.

She hadn’t looked up from the parchment she had in her hands, but I was sure she knew of my presence.

She had perfectly brown-dyed hair, slicked back and cut just below her ears, which were adorned with big pearls. They matched her brooch in her grey suit. Her expression was focused, I almost thought she was too busy to mind me attention but at last and without looking up, she spoke.

“What a gracious Christmas gift to bless us with your presence.”

“Aurora.” I saluted while entering. I ignored the numerous pairs of eyes that followed me from the walls. She still didn’t look up. I sat on one of the green armchairs facing her desk.

“One would think you don’t live here anymore.” She spat again.

I can handle her, I repeated mentally. Her speech was velvety and murderous, but Aurora was never dangerous. I had to force myself to remember that when she finally lasered me with her icy blue stare.

“I sent a letter saying I wouldn’t come back for the summer.” I defended myself “I even said I would buy my new textbooks by myself.”

When she didn’t answer, I kept going, “I figured one less person in the house would be one issue less.”

“Considering the headaches you caused at Hogwarts for five years and the situation with your brother, it is not ideal for you to disappear for six months.”

“I did not disappear. I sent an owl and if you were worried I didn’t go to class, you could have contacted professor McGonagall.”

She interlocked her fingers in front of her. “We did actually.”

I only answered with my eyes, So?

She sighed with a subtle roll of the eyes. With her scrawny fingers grabbed a quill, inked it and made a final annotation on her parchment before rolling it with care.

“I assume you had time to take your O.W.Ls with your Curse breaking extracurriculars…” she threw, while putting away the paper and grabbing another one.

I wasn’t sure if she wanted to see the scroll or my word would be enough.

“Acceptable in history of magic and exceeded expectations in astronomy.”

She looked at me again with predicted disappointment.

“And the rest?”

“Outstanding.” I offered simply. She seemed satisfied as she resumed unrolling her parchment.

“Hm… Isn’t history interesting enough for your time?”

I managed to relax back into the chair and watched her grab the quill before resuming her writing.

“I prioritised potions. I wanted to be able to take the NEWTs classes. Professor Snape said he wouldn’t accept any other mark.”

“To do what, exactly? Last year was curse breaking, the prior potioneer, before that was teacher…”

“I’m still debating my options with professor Sprout. I’m really into herbology at the moment.”

The violin stopped abruptly. Aurora lifted a neatly plucked eyebrow at me. I hate I got that ability from her. She considered me for an uncomfortable while.

“Is that why you brought those earmuffs?”

Snitch, I accused Prim mentally.

“Yes.” I offered with confidence. She hummed again and focused her attention to her desk once more. I could sense her losing interest.

Waiting for her to do some remark about suitable careers for me, of how I should follow her path with Arithmancy since I seemed to pass my classes “with ease”, or try as soon as possible to insert myself into a position in the Ministry.

There was none.

“Go freshen up and change. The rest of the guests will arrive soon.”

I watched in disbelief how quickly she dismissed me. She didn’t lift her gaze when I stood up, nor when I crossed the room, and I could swear she wasn’t bothered when I closed the door behind me either.

With that taken care of, I hurried upstairs before Prim and the new guests that were crossing the magic barrier spotted me.

My bedroom was the last door to the right on the second floor, with views of the backyard. Although I mostly complained about the oppressive interior of the house, always packed with rugs, clocks, paintings, mirrors and fireplaces on every corner, my room was originally made for guests, so it was very much empty in comparison.

I finally could breathe when I leaned against the closed door. It’s not that I hadn’t enjoyed my stay at the burrow for the summer, or that I didn’t enjoy having Rowan and Penny as roommates, but I needed to come back here, despite having trouble admitting it.

All the furniture matched with the same dark wood: my canopy bed, now with green and gold bedding; the big armoire on the other side of it; and my favourite addition that I stole from my mother’s room, a cylinder desk with enough drawers and nooks for my trinkets and jewels.

I threw my bag on the bed to retrieve my earmuffs.

This was the moment of truth.

Borrowed from Sprout and modified by Flitwick as a favour, one that I would have to pay with duelling set-ups and dummy maintenance, the earmuffs would serve a crucial role in keeping my sanity intact.

I covered my ears and instantly felt a light buzzing, as if I was hearing a distant swarm of bees. The only problem was, I didn’t know if Nicholas would be able to get in my head or not. He was powerful, a master in legilimency; I doubted that a pair of old earmuffs would prevent him from reading me like a book. But at least it would be more difficult.

Even from the second floor, I could hear movement outside the building. I crossed the room, dug one knee on the built-in seat below the three big windows that showed the backyard and looked down.

Aurora’s silhouette skittered across the grovel path towards two men I couldn’t recognise. They towered over her, but it was clear who was in charge when she turned towards the house and they followed two steps behind her.

Closing the curtains, I stepped away from the window, thinking about what to do with my time. Aurora said to get ready for dinner, but the house was mostly empty, Nicholas wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and Mom and Dad hadn’t arrived yet. I figured I could read a bit before I was robbed of any kind of alone time.

I picked my wand from the handbag and crossed the room again to open the wardrobe. Big enough for two people to sit, that piece of furniture was originally at the end of the hallway, guarding my uncle’s flying brooms and quidditch balls before I claimed it for myself. Squeezing inside and pushing books and boxes away from me, I thought about how I just decorated my room with furniture no one wanted.

With the door closed, I sat with my knees to my chest, surrounded by darkness.

Lumos.

I immediately grabbed the book on top of the small tower I had made months ago, Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming by Mauricios Carneiros, one of the few volumes in this house’s shelves that was half interesting, and that’s saying a lot since I wasn’t particularly attracted to divination.

After finding a comfortable position, I started rereading Chapter 3 and soon I lost myself in the reading session.

I was about to finish the chapter when the creaking sound of my bedroom door made me look up. Attempting to listen, I could identify the sound of the door closing, and steps around the room.

I didn’t want to move a muscle, but I had to shake the wand slightly to turn it off.

I held my breath.

The steps got closer, silenced for a moment when they stepped over the rug, and reverberated again when they hit the wood once more.

I gripped my wand tighter.

The doors of the wardrobe flew open, and I hissed when my eyes met a new light that wasn’t my wand.

“Aha!”

Relief cursed through me when the figure kneeled down to reveal mom’s face. I threw my head back, resting it on the wood.

“I thought it was my last day.” I mumbled, pressing my palms to my eyes.

“You chose Carneiros to entertain yourself. Your reward is paranoia.” She said with sparkling eyes and the Irish tilt to her voice that I realised then I missed terribly. “And what is that?” She pointed at my earmuffs.

“Tell Aurora to renew her collection, then.” I replied, taking the earmuffs off.

I slithered out into mom’s open arms and closed my eyes when she squeezed me against her.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked against her black dress. She started caressing my back.

“Jacob used to hide in there, too.”

I let her hug me a little while, and I felt her need my embrace as well. My brother’s topic was still a delicate matter, cause of many fights among all the members of the family who all had different, and quite strong, opinions about Jacob’s whereabouts.

“Tell me everything about Belgium.”

“And you tell me everything about this Charlie person.”

I looked up petrified and found her teasing smirk.

“I wasn’t snooping. You just left your things all over your bed.”

I tsked. The bloody letter that said Charlie with a heart on it.

“Well…” She chuckled and started to get up.

“Come on. Let’s get you ready for dinner,” she sighed, “It’s going to be a long night.”

[Next Chapter] >

#Kate Williams #hphm #hphm fic #jacob's sibling #hphm year 6 #the only way to see the mistakes is if i post it lmao only then i will see them

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katherinewilliams221b · 1 year

Text

Ol’ Saint Nicholas

Part 2/2: Nicholas

Pairing: Implied/ Mentioned Charlie Weasley x ofc/Jacob’s sibling

Warnings: Mature, death/murder

A proper christmas fic with charlie in it would be A very Walsh Christmas

<Previous Chapter

How does it feel to be such a Mr. Big?

King of the party each year

How does it feel to be so full of

Captivating Christmas cheer?

“Remind me again why can’t we spend Christmas with grandpa?” I managed to say in between the hair pulls of mom’s brushing technique.

“This is important for your father.” She answered, increasingly irritated with my tangles. “Besides, he was going to be with his chess club friends.”

“I’m sure he would prefer spending the day with us.”

“Kate.” A warning if I’ve ever heard one. I looked down to my hands, picking some dust balls off of my grey dress.

“Where’s dad, anyway?”

“Downstairs. Done.” She handed me a mirror to let me see the half up hairdo she made. I would not admit that I felt beautiful.

“Thanks.”

I stood up from the desk and went to the wardrobe to retrieve my earmuffs. I was about to put them back on when I heard mom’s voice.

“Not a chance, Katie.”

“But…”

“No.”

I threw them on the bed, huffing. I couldn’t believe I had promised Flitwick to help him with duelling classes for nothing.

“After this, I won’t take them off until classes start again.” I complained, walking past her to exit the room.

“You do that, but not tonight. What are they for, anyway?”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, and I wasn’t going to explain it outside the walls of my room.

In silence, we walked down the staircase towards the animated sound of voices on the ground floor. The sky was pitch black outside the walls of the manor; the windows were frosted, but the interior was glowing with candles and floating lights. As we climbed down, a feeling of nausea settled in my stomach.

The voices grew louder as we approached the guest, as did the ones in my head. I recognised the feeling of all of their thoughts reverberating behind my eyes, in the back of my head, on top of my head.

I avoided the main door to the living room that would lead to the dining table and turned around. I passed Aurora’s office and several doors until I was at the end of the hallway, behind the staircase.

The pain subsided, and the voices were gone.

‘The symptoms of hereditary legilimency’, I had been told. A completely useless ability, in my opinion, since I couldn’t decide what to hear, when to hear it and how to turn it off. It just happened out of my control sometimes in the form of an intense emotion that didn’t belong to me, a clear sentence or just a cloud of whispers I couldn’t dissipate.

I was going to take the shortcut to the dining area, a hallway that slipped into the living room, when I noticed the door leading to the basement was open.

I had only seen that door open once in my life. One time too many.

I didn’t dare to approach the stairs as I had done that night, afraid of what I could find the second time around.

The memory hit me with force when the misty air of the basement reached my nose, vivid images of what I hadn’t been supposed to see recreated themselves to relive it all again. I shouldn’t remember, but how could you forget the day you started to be able to see thestrals?

I found myself being six years old again, way bolder and braver than I could ever be, slipping out of my room to the kitchens just to find me something to drink. I paused my night excursion when I heard the voices from behind the big staircase. The door to the basement was ajar, and I could hear the voice of my grandfather mixed with three others.

I stepped down slowly, intending to surprise my grandad. I descended towards the dim light of the candles on the walls, flickering from time to time. I was about to turn the corner when the heart-wrenching of the laments stopped me.

“No.. please.”

I peaked as carefully as I could; a man was sitting on a stool, three men facing him. I could only see their backs, but I recognised my grandad to be in the middle, pointing a wand at him.

“You have a very strong will.” He had said.

“Nicholas, please.”

The man to his left placed himself behind the stool and murmured something that made him squirm in pain. I noticed then the blue halo that circled the unknown man’s head that Nicholas was moving with his wand. A silver strand of magic started to leave the man’s ear but quickly returned into his head.

“I’m just doing my job. Just as you should have done yours.” said grandpa.

“It’s not working, sir. We’ve been here for an hour.”

I turned my back against the wall, trying to hold my breath to prevent them from noticing me.

“It’s a shame, if you just gave in you wouldn’t force me to take extreme measures. You know I don’t like to get my hands dirty.”

And then I looked. I had to. I don’t know what compelled me to see what was about to happen, but I did.

“Nich…”

“Avada Kedavra.”

A green light blinded me, and I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as possible. I remembered the silence that followed that scene, the movement again, they closed a cabinet of some sort and then focused on the man. The next thing I knew was sensing someone behind me all of a sudden, grabbing me from the stomach, apparating in my bedroom,and the lingering smell of man's cologne on my night robe.

I took a moment to get out of the memory before taking two decisive steps to close the door with force. Whatever was happening downstairs again, it could stay there.

As I made my way through the hallway towards the dining room, I realised who had taken me out of there, meaning Nicholas knew I was there that night. But was he aware that I remembered? Did he think I wouldn’t because I had been only six? Granted, he didn’t obliviate me, since I distinctly… how could I know if he did, though?

My questions and troubles followed me all the way to the celebration that was taking place at the end of the hallway. Failing in my intent of slip past unnoticed, I bumped into a broad back.

“Katherine!” my dad turned around and passed an arm across my shoulders. “We will talk later about your summer escapade.” He murmured against my hair before planting a kiss there. I was about to respond when someone touched my back.

“Niece.” Dad’s brother besides us, not bothering to stop and have a chat, only acknowledging me with a nod while raising his glass at me.

“Erick…” I greeted.

“Now tell me,” dad said still holding me, “I’ve heard you became leader of Hufflepuff’s duelling team.” We took a couple of steps towards the big table in the centre, already set for Christmas celebrations. I scanned the room, there were probably twenty people in dress gowns and suits.

“I did yes…”

Aunt Evira, dad’s sister, was standing next to the fireplace, nursing a glass of wine as she chat with two older women. She must have sensed my eyes on her because she turned her head to me and raised her glass before returning to the conversation.

“And your O.W.L.s…?”

“I’m pleased. I’ll take all the N.E.W.Ts I wanted…” I commented while still registering the room. Something wasn’t right.

From the moment I stepped into the room, something in my stomach turned. Maybe mom had been right, maybe I was getting paranoid. I saw how Uncle Erick sat in the armchair under the window. He was surrounded by six or seven people. All men.

“That’s brilliant, dear.” Dad kept his speech, unaware of my disinterest in knowing about Ministry affairs, as I watched Aurora came in the room, whispering something in Hattie’s ear. She walked with grace towards a group of guests standing next to the table. I recognised some of dad’s coworkers but, apart from my closest family members, I found myself among a group of strangers. Prim was there as well, I could smell him. However, he mingled among the men thanks to a suit and a new face.

“So if you want to start now you can, always keeping up with your studies of course.”

“Since when Prim has dinner with us?”

We spoke at the same time to each other, sharing confused looks. I didn’t want to sound like Prim could not sit with us, but…

“It just seems a bit odd, innit?”

“Are you feeling alright, Katherine?”

A bulky man entered the room with the help of a cane. Aurora went to greet him as soon as she spotted him. He towered over her, offering a smile under a very thick moustache.

“Who is that?” I asked my father in a whisper. “Does he work with you?”

Dad turned to the archway, inspecting the newcomer. A deep frown appeared on his forehead and got replaced by a confused expression.

“No. He’s an auror. Erick might know him, then.”

I massaged my temple with one finger, trying to release the tension of the sharp pain in the area.

Following Aurora’s directions, everyone moved to the table, taking their seats and chatting with each other as she pointed the assigned chairs to every guest.

I made my way towards a chair near the fireplace. I was about to sit when I felt pointy nails dig into my elbow.

“Go sit next to your mother.” Aurora whispered. I bit my tongue and walked away from my usual spot towards the other end of the room.

“Since when do we have assigned seating?” I asked mom while sitting down. She just shrugged and started a conversation with an older woman. I saw the man with a moustache, guided by Aurora, take that place instead.

She took the seat at the end of the table, leaving the head near the fireplace empty. She clapped once.

“Thank you all for coming today. In a few minutes, we will start the feast.”

But someone is missing, I thought, and as if I had summoned him, the fireplace lit up with green flames and smoke, revealing the one person I was hoping wouldn’t appear.

A round of ah’s and ohs followed by the applause of the guests welcomed Nicholas Williams, who stepped out of the fog wearing a false smirk and a purple suit. He took the head of the table with reverence and a slight bow of the head as a greeting of everyone while they still talked and praised him on top of each other.

“I’m sure you will excuse my delay.” He locked eyes with Aurora and then with everyone, masking his scanning with politeness.

He hadn’t changed in the slightest; the same bald head except from the trimmed patch of grey hair from ear to ear, the same thin features, nose and lips, and piercing hazel eyes that were laying on me at the moment.

Katherine. We thought you might have gone missing as well.

I held his stare as bravely as I could.

You didn’t wish it hard enough.

No, I wasn’t supposed to think that. I wasn’t supposed to think that. I had meant to say a simple ‘No’.

He smirked and turned his attention to the man with a moustache.

“Mister Grimm, it’s an honour to count with your presence today.”, he turned to everyone else and raised a ring-stuffed hand. “I’m sure this will be a memorable night. Please enjoy.” The table turned to reveal the main course, fill the glasses and lit the candles. He waved his hand again, and one of the walls opened to allow a grand piano to roll out of the secret nook. The keys hammered on their own, offering a cheerful Christmas song that lifted everyone’s spirits.

“I couldn’t pass the opportunity.” I heard Grimm respond. “It’s not every day that you are invited to dinner by Nicholas Williams himself.”

I found myself very interested in the conversation, but when I tried to hear them above the surrounding revelry, something stopped me; a dense fog clouded my hearing, a pressure on top of my head didn’t let me breathe. Nicholas glanced at me briefly and I knew.

It disappeared as soon as I focused on my soup and pretended to be interested in Aunt Evira’s tales of America schools.

As the plated emptied, the conversations also died down to a volume more bearable to me, and made it easier to distinguish the different groups that had formed naturally around the table. I picked up some comments about me such as “It would be beneficial for her, Ilvermorny…” from Evira, or “The few extra kilos might be from stress, the poor thing…” from a sloth-looking woman.

“How interesting, I don’t remember you.” said Erick to someone at the table. “In which department are you, again?”

I lifted my head from my chicken to see how some people, mostly the men around Nicholas’ side of the table, paid very close attention. Grimm shifted in his seat.

“I’m a recent addition. Before this job, I was involved in very different affairs.”

“He must be a really valuable asset, you see, Erick, our friend here has been taken under Alastor’s wing. He’s his right eye,” he chuckled, “pardon the joke.”

The Sloth woman, the way I baptised her, giggled uncontrollably, catching the attention of every guest. Including myself.

“Oh, he’s absolutely bonkers, the man. Beyond repair.” She thought for a second, “But that’s kind of the appeal innit? A lone wolf, mysterious, a tad rude, if I may add.” As she kept mumbling, mom reached for the wine bottle with a frown and moved it out of her reach.

“Allegra is… partially right,” started Erick again, “How come he lets you work with him?”

“Oh, well…”

“Information.” Interrupted Nicholas, “It’s key, right? Correct me if I’m wrong, son, but that’s the purpose of aurors, right? It’s very valuable.” Erick nodded. “

Something in the air shifted. The festive ambience died and suddenly everyone’s attention was placed on Grimm.

“Well, of course you would know, aurors and obliviators have a lot in common. We work together for the same goal.” Grimm stared at Nicholas and I straighten my spine, shifting my gaze from him and my grandfather. The man coughed twice.

What are you doing? I thought inevitably, not really knowing whom I was directing the question.

“I agree.” Nicholas raised his glass to his lips, holding Grimm’s stare. He glanced at me and then at the rest of the guests. “However…” he raised his pinky finger from the hand that was holding the glass and moved it in a circular motion.

A series of gasps and scandalised faces appeared out of nowhere when a collective realisation hit us unprompted. I was familiar with the feeling of being of someone’s mind, but I had never been inside Nicholas’.

For a brief moment I, we, had access to a piece of his brain that showed us the meaning behind this man’s presence, and I could read it like a Ministry report.

Infringement of Clause 26 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy

Infringement of Clause 54 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy

Infringement of Clause 73 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy

The list went on, but before I could finish scanning it, the door to Nicholas’ mind shut with force.

“However, I believe you haven’t been sincere with your intentions here tonight.”

Grimm started coughing more violently. “What do you mean? You invited me.” He pressed a hand to his chest, and I felt mom’s grab mine.

“I just needed to check something.” He turned to us, “My apologies, ladies and gentlemen. This was more than a social gathering, I couldn’t avoid bringing home some work. Apart from his more than concerning past, our friend couldn’t pass the opportunity, as you said, to defame me.”

“You… will pay for this, Williams.” The chair hissed against the wood boards when he pressed against the edge of the table, trying to breathe. Letting go of mom’s hand, I pressed my palms on the table to stand up, but a force yanked me down on my chair again.

Grimm’s last coughs died down only to be followed by a loud thump of his head hitting the table.

A deafening silence fell on us.

I swallowed, unable to move and afraid to do so.

After taking another sip from his beverage, Nicholas waved a hand. “Prim, if you must.”

Three men rose quickly and with coordinated moves, grabbed Grimm’s body and took him out of the room, dissaparating at the same time.

“Can you believe the audacity of some people,” said Allegra, “What was he trying to accomplish here, on this beautiful night? What a way to ruin the festivities.”

“Well, my dear, I had been told he intended to invent stories about me, about us and this family. Alastor sent him, of course, to prove I was doing some sort of illegal activities.”

You killed him?

“This is ridiculous!”

“My thoughts exactly. Now,” he raised and extended his arms towards the table, as Prim and the two companions apparated in their seats.

And now you are going to obliviate us? You twisted…

Shake it off! I said to myself.

A wave of calmness slowed my heart rate, a light dizziness engulfed me and I looked around to see the guests just as disoriented. “Enjoy this special dessert…”

A chocolate mousse appeared in front of me, but I didn’t remember eating the rest of the dinner. I looked around again, watching how all of them seemed to accept this situation; the piano music returned with a cheerful melody, everyone started chatting with each other, digging in their desserts. Mom put a hair lock out of my face and kept talking with someone by her side.

I noticed the empty seat near the fireplace. They left a place for Jacob? No, that can’t be. Did you get rid of him?

The image of a man with a moustache entered my mind. Who? I didn’t know. A friend of Erick’s? I was about to ask who was missing when Nicholas’ voice stopped me.

Enjoy your dessert.

And remember, I’m just doing my job.

“Happy Christmas, my dears!” he finished out loud. Everyone cheered and raised their glasses to him.

Except, of course, me.

A/N: The song is Ol’ Saint Nicholas by Doris Day because I love the concept of horrible circumstances with happy background music.

#katherine williams

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katherinewilliams221b · 2 years

Text

Our Time To Bloom Chapters

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Kate Williams (hphm mc, original female character) established relationship

1930 - Imogen Elopes

Lost

Will ye go, lassie?

1933 - Potion Making

So, fare thee well

Secret Garden Inn

The Serch Bythol

1933- Ghost Stories

Unblock

Walsh & Son Broomsticks

1934 - The Three Mosqueteers

The Apuseni Program

Eric Jackson

A Misplaced Paper

1934 - Treasure Map

53 Years

A Night In Cork

1937 - Flannigans’ Last Day

The Hidden Farm in Ballymore

Suspicious Behaviour

Sicilian Defence

1939 - In Lebor Ogaim

The Squib’s Curse

What I Should Tell You

Aresto Momentum

Cards On The Table

Cap’n Walsh, At Your Service

1939 - It Was Right Here

Like Maimeó, Like Gariníon

Star Of The County Down

More Than Justified

What Happens in Marlogue Woods

Shared Dreams

1941 - In Loving Memory

You Can See Them, Too

I Thought I Knew You

A Well Kept Secret

Rocky Road To Dublin

I’ve Just Lost A Cat

Fód te

1941 - A Kids Game

The Wake

Mr Mulloy’s Coffin

The Woman With Green Robes

Magical People

As Simple As That

Want A Ride, Gorgeous?

Big, Flashy and Crowded

Pub Crawl

No Time For Springsteen

1942 - It’s Safe With Us

Revelation

Sam’s Proposition

Legend of Cliodna

Claddagh Ring

Cavan Girl

Following Instructions

Legally Binding

Kiss The Stone

Brú na Bóinne

The Great Dispute

Unbreakable Vow

Forbidden Access

1945 - Frown Upon

Arm in Arm, Row in Row

These Are The Hands

Á Stor

Lift Your Hearts And Sing With Us

Night Escapade

1945 - On Board

And When I Return

YES.I.KNOW.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfic #charlie weasley x ofc #jacob's sibling #kate williams

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katherinewilliams221b · 2 years

Text

The Clock Hands

Summary: It’s 1996 and it’s New Year’s Eve. The air smells like war, but Charlie and Kate decide to pretend everything is fine for at least 12 seconds.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x Kate Williams (mc,ofc)

Warnings: mature, explicit, smut

Masterlist

A soft piano melody drifted from the radio on the coffee table. It sounded like it was in a tin can, but Kate didn’t care. She was just swaying her hips as she rummaged through the kitchen drawers.

She heard a click from the room she shared with Charlie and glanced at the closed door. Maybe he did care about the music.

She sighed, shook her head slightly and continued to open drawers.

In the months leading up to that moment, too much had happened; Kate had returned from a mission for the Order badly wounded, the war against Voldemort had been officially declared, and Kingsley Shacklebolt kept pressuring Charlie to speed up his search for allies.

Kate smiled with satisfaction as she found one last candle, a little burnt but still usable. That made 37. She placed it on a tray on top of the round dining table and took her wand gently.

After the strange Christmas they had spent days ago, away from home on a mission in an unfamiliar place, Kate felt she had to do something special for the listless Charlie hiding in the other room.

Kate aired the wand first at the candles and then at the rest of the room, causing the candles to hover in the air, near the fireplace, on the table, in the corners, some on the bookshelf, and some on the coffee table.

She looked around and sighed. The lights always lifted her spirits a little.

The white noise of the radio distracted her momentarily, and she checked the clock on the mantelpiece. It was barely twenty minutes to midnight. Or at least that’s what the often-liar clock said.

It had been a gift from Charlie’s parents years ago, when he moved from the tent where he slept in the sanctuary to this little hut near the forest. It had a peculiarity in that it could be adjusted to have the same function as the one they had at The Burrow, but they never used it for that purpose. And it also stopped working every so often, turning back the time without them knowing why.

Kate leaned over to the radio and turned it off, tired of the voices of the announcers who had interrupted the music to talk about the New Year, and with another flick of the wand the fireplace suddenly lit up. Now there was only the ticking of the clock and the crackling of the flames.

She went over to the old fridge to get the bottle she had planned to use for that moment, courtesy of a friend of Charlie’s from the sanctuary. She managed to retrieve it from behind the remains of the dinner they’d had earlier.

Charlie growled from the bedroom. She glanced at the clock again, nervous. She didn’t want another important event to go unnoticed that year.

Quickly, she pulled two glasses from a cupboard over the sink and uncorked the champagne, pouring it in haste. She took the flutes to the coffee table and went to the door of their room.

Charlie didn’t even flinch when she came in. Sitting cross-legged on his side of the bed, he had his nose buried in a newspaper whose front page read “Still no sign of Garrick Ollivander” and further down, “Is Fudge conspiring?”

From behind the newspaper, he didn’t see Kate quietly reaching into the wardrobe to pull out a ruffled black blouse and dark jeans. He also missed how she began to change her clothes.

“Did you know that Rufus Scrimgeour went to The Burrow?” he commented, still not looking at her, “Ron told me in his letter.”

“Mm...” she added simply, feigning disinterest. She zipped up her trousers and walked to the bathroom from where she heard Charlie speak again.

“He went to talk to Harry. Seems a bit impertinent to me, especially on Christmas Day.” He paused, “Have you lit the fireplace?”

Kate looked at herself in the mirror after putting on a pair of hoop earrings and sighed at Charlie’s monologue. She’d actually been dying to know what the new Minister of Magic had to say to Harry that was important enough to go to the Weasley’s house in person. But not that night. That night she would dress up a bit, drink her glass of champagne, and if she couldn’t convince Charlie to join her, she would curl up on the sofa with the music playing on the radio. Maybe she’d even make herself something sweet to eat, even if it was late at night.

“You look lovely.”

She turned towards Charlie’s voice to find him leaning against the bathroom door, with a half-smile, tired eyes and a faint scruffy beard he had decided to grow .

She tilted her head tenderly and closed the distance between them. “Oh, yeah? Well, that’s good to know, since you’ve been ignoring me all morning,” he closed his eyes briefly in apology as she rested her hands on his chest, “and in the afternoon, and at dinner...”

“Okay, okay. It’s just...” He lifted the arm he didn’t have resting on the door and wrapped it around her waist.

“I know.” She stroked his chest through the grey cotton T-shirt he wore, down and slowly until it ended at his waist. “But it’s almost midnight, and I really don’t want the first thing we do in 1997 to be reading a bunch of letters and newspapers.”

Charlie scanned her face from top to bottom; some brown curls falling down her cheeks, the smell of the cream she had put on, her looking at his mouth with its impossibly long eyelashes and at her defined lips that were slowly lifting into a charming smile.

His breath hitched a little as she looked up, those eyes dark brown in the shadows, but pure honey when the light hit them. They shone with hope.

“Give me a minute. Uncork the champagne Razvan gave us.” He pivoted and headed for the bedroom. Kate chuckled at his determination and inwardly sang victory. She turned off the bathroom light and returned to the living room, leaving Charlie mumbling something with his body almost drowned in the wardrobe.

With a few hops that didn’t make her go any faster, she advanced towards the radio again while looking at the clock. Four minutes.

The announcer’s voice began to ring through the small room, distorted until Kate found the position to tune in properly.

“Charlie!” she shouted over her shoulder after a while, hearing the announcement of the last two minutes of the year.

Charlie quickly left the room, smoothing his hands over the white shirt he was now wearing. “I’m here.” He looked up and stared fascinated at the floating candles and the cosy atmosphere she had created in the room.

His eyes landed on Kate and gave her a thankful smile. There was a warm feeling in his chest that was growing by the minute.

He didn’t know if it was the fact that Kate had taken the trouble to decorate their home a little, or if it was her look of excitement at experiencing at least a few seconds of peace that made him suddenly full of energy. Nor had he realised that the thought of the war and Dumbledore had been pushed to the side, eclipsed by her, illuminated by the candles and the fire before him.

His watch showed that it was just over a minute to midnight and, at a glance, he noticed that the clock on the mantelpiece indicated the same.

“At least it’s working well now.” He said, rounding the coffee table and trapping her in his arms.

She immediately dropped onto his chest and pressed her nose to his neck. “Mmm... you smell nice. Have you put perfume on?” They both felt each other’s smile on their skin, he on his neck and she on her cheek.

“Maybe...”

They swayed in front of the fireplace, the man on the radio getting louder and louder, excited by the last thirty seconds.

Kate rested her arms on his shoulders, wrapping them around his head and playing with the curls on his neck. She slowly started nuzzling his cheek with the tip of her nose until they were forehead to forehead. He settled against her, folding his hands across her lower back.

And in the last twelve seconds that remained, as the announcer excitedly counted, they had time for nothing more than to look at each other lovingly, sharing that bubble where all was well, where there were no missing people, no death, no danger, no fear. They were both there, and they were together. No one could take that away from them at that moment.

The radio blared music and firecrackers, voices shouting ‘happy new year’ and lots of laughter. If they concentrated hard, closing their eyes, they could imagine that they were in a fancy hall, dressed up, shining, that the revelry on the radio was their friends all around them kissing and laughing and dancing.

“Happy 1997, Charlie.” Kate whispered close to his lips. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He suddenly sank into nostalgia and the thought of a future they might never have.

He felt Kate’s hand squeeze the back of his neck, listening to his thoughts, and he relaxed.

“Happy New Year, Kate.”

She kissed him then, simply pressing their mouths together, keeping it chaste. Charlie made an exaggerated smooching sound as they parted and she smiled, amused, against his lips. That velvety feeling of his mouth with the combination of his hairs scraping her chin, made her lower abdomen tighten. She pressed her pelvis to his body instinctively.

Charlie took the opportunity to touch his lips to hers in a stolen kiss.

He was in a trance, the light from the fireplace illuminating her right side, making her golden. The problem with wanting to move her hair to get a better look at her face was that he would have to stop hugging her.

Without leaving his side, and while Charlie calculated how long it would take him to move a curl from her face, she leaned to the coffee table to take a drink and hand it to him. He had no choice but to accept it, but not before running the palm of his hand along the curve of her hip, leaving the other flat against her back.

Kate took hers and left it suspended between them.

“Here’s to us. And to everything going well.”

Charlie nodded and tapped their glasses with a soft clink while looking into her eyes.

Lively music played in the background, which changed to a slower tempo as they drank. Kate scrunched her face and licked her lips with a grimace, trying somehow to get rid of the bitter taste of the liquid. Nevertheless, she took another sip from her glass.

Charlie chuckled, turning his head towards the fireplace and squeezing her adoringly.

“I don’t get used to adult beverages.” She laughed at herself as Charlie shook his head in the clock’s direction. It had stopped at twelve o’clock.

When Kate looked at it, the hands moved again.

Their gazes met again, and they laughed, each shrugging their shoulders at the stubborn artefact they had never been able to trust.

Kate raised her glass to her chest and pressed herself closer to Charlie’s body, swaying her hips to the music. He smiled mesmerised, and took another sip from his glass, following her movements in perfect sync.

He set the flute down on the mantelpiece, causing them to lose their balance a little, and Kate laughed. She took it as a challenge and, raising her eyebrows, handed him her glass to set it down next to hers.

One hand clung tighter to the nape of his neck, and the other crept playfully up his chest until one finger brushed against the skin visible through the collar. Charlie’s fingers immediately flew to her hips, pressing them against his own.

They circled over themselves several times, following the slow, sensual rhythm of the song. Both intermittently diverting their gaze to the dilated pupils and lips of the other.

“Don’t you think Nat King Cole’s voice is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard?” Kate commented, smitten.

“You are the sweetest thing...”

Catching her by surprise, he gently pushed her back, stroking her arm as he swayed away and then pulling her to him, hand in hand.

Kate felt like she was floating. She didn’t know what had caused this change in Charlie’s attitude, but she was enjoying every second of it.

She turned around just before she collided with his body, her back protected by his chest. Their hands still clasped on her hips. She felt his lips at the base of her neck and almost melted. She leaned her head back, resting it on his shoulder, encouraging him to continue the trail of kisses he was leaving all over her skin and getting more open-mouthed by the minute.

She had to close her eyes tightly.

Charlie squeezed her hip with his free hand, gently leading this impromptu private dance. He frowned, in a mixture of concentration and pain that was concentrating in his crotch, as he touched her skin with his tongue.

Eyes closed, he felt Kate move her arm and suddenly gave his coppery curls a tug. He exhaled in pure pleasure at a wet spot he’d left at the base of her neck and felt her press her butt closer to his bulge in his trousers.

The peachy smell of her shampoo was intoxicating him. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply up the length of her neck to her hair, her lips brushing her ear.

“So... what’s the first thing you want to do in 1997?” he purred.

She tilted her head to one side, looking at his lips in response, and Charlie didn’t waste another second.

He caught her lower lip with his own, sucking in a little before releasing her. He couldn’t get very far because before he could do it again, Kate brought their heads together in a jerking motion, devouring him in an open-mouth kiss that left them breathless.

The swaying of their hips stopped suddenly as their tongues met, losing their balance in this completely different dance. They took several random steps, trying not to fall and in no way to separate. On wobbly legs and with the way he was sucking on her upper lip, Kate hit her instep on the coffee table, knocking the radio to the floor.

Neither of them flinched in the slightest, squeezing each other tighter as their only reaction.

The hiss of the untuned radio was hidden under the sofa and drowned out by Charlie’s moan against her mouth at another hair-pull, and finally stopped altogether.

Kate released his hand and his head to turn suddenly and face him. Giving him no respite, she grabbed him by the cheeks to bring their lips together again in another ardent kiss. His hands immediately went to touch her; one to the nape of her neck and the other to one buttock. She chuckled against her lips when he changed his mind and laid his hand on her back.

“You just stuck your tongue... all the way down my throat and you’re shy all of a sudden?” She teased as she tried to catch her breath between kisses.

“I assure you... it’s anything but shyness.”

With a last kiss, she looked into his eyes, curious. They were dark, deep, burning. His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to pull himself together. His face felt hot, and it wasn’t from the fireplace. She was touched by the feel of his thumb stroking her hair.

“I want to get carried away too, you know?”

“Don’t read my mind.”

Kate laughed. “I swear I’m not.” You could see it on his face.

She caressed his chest, trying to feel all his muscles through his shirt, past his slightly rounded belly to his belt. He tensed with anticipation.

She raised her eyebrows as she opened it.

“Here, by candlelight?” he asked, amused.

“I’m not going to pick up everything you’ve left on the bed and I’m certainly not going to stand around waiting for you to do it.” She reached into his trousers once they were open, and Charlie inhaled sharply. His cock responded, pulsing against her hand.

“Okay…” he exhaled as he said it and leaned in to kiss her once more. Strong fingers grabbed her by both ass cheeks and fulfilled their previous desire to squeeze.

Kate rewarded him with a satisfied mmmming sound. Against her wanting to keep stroking him, she tried to make quick work of the buttons of his shirt. With trembling fingers, she undid them in a hurry, her job getting more and more difficult as Charlie fastened his tongue against her neck again.

He moved her by the hips to the couch, making her walk backwards the small distance that was left. Careful not to make her hit herself with the table again, he turned them around and fell onto the seat. She squealed when he brought her with him. They shared a laugh at her poor reflexes; instead of straddling him as he intended, her hands went to the cushions at either side of him and her feet never left the floor, leaving her face buried between his shoulder and the couch.

He helped her up by the waist, suppressing another laugh.

“This is your seduction strategy? Making me make a fool of myself?” She teased as she adjusted on his lap.

“A miscalc…” he trailed off at the sight of her pulling her blouse over her shoulders.

Greedy fingers grabbed her waist and she squirmed, always finding the initial touch irritatingly ticklish. His mouth went instantly to her chest, peppering kisses all over.

The moment she began to rock back and forth, hands clutching at his hair, Charlie leaned forwards to pull his shirt off at full speed. He pulled it over his head, unable to wait to touch her skin again. Kate sought his mouth and his lips opened, inviting her.

Her hands moved down his neck, this time scratching lightly, then across his chest, nails running over his nipples. Charlie opened his mouth to let out an ‘ah’ of pure pleasure at the contact. He was about to lose his mind and they had only removed their shirts.

Kate pulled away, and Charlie pursued her lips, to no avail. She swayed forward a little so that she could get off his body and off the couch, and stood up. Charlie was quick to start pulling her trousers off. He pulled the fabric down and reached his hands in, caressing her ass and legs as he pulled the garment off. Kate kicked them away, and they ended up under the couch next to the radio.

“Oh, it matches!” exclaimed Kate with a smile as she saw that her panties and bra were the same dark green colour. Charlie let out a laugh that sent shivers down her spine.

“You didn’t know what underwear you were wearing?”

“I forgot,” she giggled. “What colour are your pants?” She grabbed his face before he could reflexively look at himself and raised her eyebrows at him.

“Grey. What’s the prize if I’m right?” he threw her a toothy grin that she was sure made her wet herself even more.

“Let’s check.” She already knew. Of course she knew if she’d been groping him less than a few minutes ago to provoke him. She squatted down in front of him and tapped his thigh to make him lift his hips. She undid his trousers so slowly that Charlie thought she was aiming to torture him that night. He looked at her pleadingly and she laughed again, finishing the job quickly and leaving the trousers on the floor.

She went straight to grab again at the prominent erection that stood out in his, of-course grey, boxer shorts, but he beat her to it. He caught her wrists and kissed the inside of one, sending a shiver down her spine. “Come,” he moved to the side, indicating he wanted her to sit next to him, and released her wrists. Somewhat confused, but eager to know what he was going to do, she let herself lean back, resting her head on the arm of the couch, as Charlie knelt between her legs.

Kate closed her eyes, expecting a kiss when she saw him move closer to her, but it never came. She felt Charlie’s hands cup the back of her neck with one hand and opened her eyes. Concentrating, he adjusted a cushion under her head. “Good?”

She looked at him with a half-open mouth and nodded in disbelief. Their faces almost on the verge of touching. Charlie smiled and looked down at her mouth, hovering over it, barely grazing it. Tired of waiting, she wrapped her legs around his hips, and her arms around his neck, their sexes coming into contact at the same time as their lips. They both moaned at the touch and began rubbing each other through their underwear.

Kate spread her legs slightly, intensifying the tingling she was feeling in her cunt. The fabric of her panties shifted, sliding down and revealing a few black curls. Charlie licked her lower lip and let his tongue in. She was soaking wet.

He broke away only to latch onto her neck, sucking here and there as he slid down her throat. Kate threw her head back and smiled as she felt the cushion. Her chest was rising and falling with speed, but Charlie’s tongue wouldn’t leave her skin, as if it were made of ice and had stuck.

She stroked his back, his strong shoulders now flexed, straining not to crush her as he ran his lips over her sternum. Charlie pressed his erection against her again and her clit began to throb. More.

Charlie kissed the small bow that adorned the centre of her bra and moved to her covered breast. He opened his mouth and bit lightly through the fabric, making sure to scrape the hidden nipple with his teeth and earning a delicious scratch on the back of his neck.

“Doesn’t that bother you? You must be uncomfortable wearing that all day,” he murmured as he kissed the skin around the metal ring.

Kate wasn’t thinking. She’d already had a hard time following his flirtation with the colour of her underwear. Now she didn’t even want to respond. She nodded several times vigorously, agreeing with him, and reached behind her back to unbutton it. Charlie finished pulling it off and threw it on the floor. He resumed his trail of kisses from the other side of her neck, as if now that the garment was gone, he had to start all over again.

The brush of her nipples against his chest caught her off guard. Her breath hitched. She didn’t know what to focus on; Charlie’s curls against her nipples, his tongue licking her sweat or her cunt pulsing fiercely as he kept rubbing at her crotch.

She managed to concentrate and open her eyes. The sight of Charlie’s back was spectacular. She caressed him from shoulder to waist and then adjusted her arm to slip her hand between them. Before she could release his cock, she felt Charlie open his mouth on her skin and close it over a breast, taking it all in and letting it go with a ‘pop’. She whimpered and grabbed his curls in a fistful.

He stopped moving, sensing a comment to that effect, which he awaited with raised eyebrows.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” she asked breathlessly. She moved her arms and cupped his cheeks, looking into his eyes. She leaned up to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

Their chests moved in sync. “Because,” he began, lifting himself up slightly with his hands in a flex. Kate didn’t let go of his face. “, the moment you do, this is going to be over faster than I’d like.”

She took a deep breath and relaxed under his body. They smiled softly at each other, and Kate shook her head.

“And now don’t distract me. I have work to do.”

For an instant, she tensed. A split second in which she thought Charlie was moving to leave and continue on his mission for Dumbledore, disappearing from her arms.

She fluttered her eyes closed as he flicked his tongue over her other nipple. Oh, how wrong she was. She bit her lip as she felt him move down her belly, his attention on her waist with warm kisses.

When his lips stopped below her navel, they looked at each other. Kate nodded before dropping her head back again, enjoying his attention.

Charlie settled between her legs, tracing his way down her burning skin to the inside of her thigh. Her leg almost fell off the couch as he pushed it a little out of the way and, in one swift movement, caught it with his inner elbow. She bent her own knee, shrugging her other leg, trying to get comfortable.

He gave the same attention to her other thigh and moved down to her centre, still covered by the green fabric. He squeezed a little to open her legs slightly and pressed his lips right at her entrance, taking a bite with just his lips, trying to take in as much as his mouth would allow.

Kate squirmed, instantly bringing her hands to his hair. “Charlie...” she said with a warning tone.

He chuckled against her, the vibration on her clit making her sigh.

“Impatient.”

“Teaser.” she accused back, running a hand through her own locks.

Without wasting any more time, he hooked his forefingers into the elastic and pulled down, discarding the garment on the floor. He bent down slightly and began to nibble the inside of her knee to her groin. Her breathing quickened.

She felt his strong hands grip her thighs again and, immediately after, his breath on her clit. When she felt his tongue, flat against her entrance, rise to her clit in a probing lick, she almost came apart right there. She encouraged him with a tug on his hair. She felt herself getting even wetter.

His lips encircled her nub, sucking, tasting, driving her wild. Her back arched automatically, wanting more, wanting him. She moved her hand to his shoulder, not wanting to hurt him, but when he inserted his tongue inside her, she had no choice but to cling to his head with a long moan.

Charlie hummed, enjoying the feast and the view; he glanced at Kate and almost gawked at her with her head thrown back, her chest heaving uncontrollably and her lips parted. His heart fluttered.

He returned his attention to her cunt; her walls constricting around his tongue.

Kate spread her legs as far as Charlie’s arms would allow and automatically closed them again as he eagerly sucked on her clit. She felt his thumb spread her labia apart, up and down, several times. She moaned his name helplessly.

One finger, then another entered her easily, her pulse was racing, she could feel it in her chest, Charlie’s beard was making her labia tingle with delirious tickles and when she could take no more, when she could no longer stand the sensation of Charlie’s fingers curling up inside her, her muscles contracted and she let go with an almost silent scream.

Charlie felt her tremble from where he was, still with his mouth buried in her legs, and smiled. She looked so beautiful.

He slowly sat up, licking some of her cum around her labia before moving closer to her face. He ran his erection over her sex deliberately making her hiss. He left a tender, sticky kiss on her breastbone and she reopened her eyes.

A goofy grin graced his face, and she laughed, relaxed. She untangled her hand from his curls and brought it to his mouth, wiping the remnants of her orgasm on his beard with the outside of her wrist.

“Did I hurt you?” she worried as he saw his hair sticking out in all directions.

Charlie ignored her question, though he answered it without realising it.

“I almost came just looking at you.” He blurted, looking intensely into her eyes.

She looked away, suddenly self-conscious about his confession.

She brought her hands to his buttocks, disappointed to not find bare skin, and caressed her smooth back with gentle hands. She admired his shoulders, flexed and strong above her, almost tanned by all those beautiful freckles that adorned it. She leaned in to kiss a mole that stood out among the rest. Regaining a little confidence, she gave him a playful bite at the base of his neck. Kate found him with the most infectious smile on his face.

“Looks like you’re having a good time, eh?” she laughed.

“Me? I’m delighted.”

She reached for his lips, and caught him in a slow kiss, drinking a mixture of champagne and herself from his mouth.

Tired of lying down, she pulled herself tighter against Charlie and pulled herself up on her forearms. He made room for her and stayed on his knees so she could sit up. Kate noticed his pants were a little damp. She touched the seat where he had been stimulating her and grimaced.

“Sit there.” She pointed to the other end of the couch. He obeyed, eager to discover her plans. His smile grew bigger and bigger as he watched her stand up, displaying her nakedness in total comfort. He followed her, silent, eating her with his eyes and wanting to do it again with his tongue. “These must go.” She ordered, tugging at his boxers.

With one hand, she released his cock and he almost rolled his eyes back as he felt the pressure of her fingers around him. With the other, she kept tugging at the garment until it was he himself who finished pulling it off with his feet.

She sat on him without letting go and he grunted. She reached back blindly and immediately her wand appeared in her free fist. As she aimed it at her stomach and then his, she felt him twitch in her palm.She gave him a few pumps that didn’t relieve him at all. Charlie let out his breath as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

Feeling the familiar tug of the spell, she threw the wand across the couch.

With a hand on his shoulder and her eyes on his facial expressions, she lifted her pelvis as if to take him in, but slowly lowered it again, massaging her clitoris briefly with his throbbing tip, and parting her labia with his thickness.

Charlie watched the gesture and moaned uncontrollably, the grip at the base of his cock pulsing with pain. She had wet it with her own juices and spread them all over his length with a few pumps.

When she was ready, she rose again and directed him to her entrance, this time rewarding him, and her, by finally enveloping him.

Her breath stopped as she felt him inside her, more and more, painfully slow. Charlie hid his face at the base of her neck and wrapped his hands around her back, whimpering against her skin. Their pelvis touched, taking him all the way inside, and she exhaled.

Face to face, they stole a fiery kiss. “Whenever you want.” he murmured into her mouth. He was already more than ready. Lovingly, he caressed her back.

Indistinguishable sounds escaped them both when she started riding him up and down, his hands squeezing her waist, her hips, following the movement, her moaning into his ear. She nipped at his lobe, his neck, his shoulder, wherever she could. His hands were all over her, going where they pleased down her back.

The sound of their bodies meeting sent him wild, and he lifted his pelvis to meet her, again and again. Her walls squeezed against him, he felt her ass bounce on his thighs and he grabbed it making her moan again.

Her legs were starting to ache from the effort and she decided to rest them by pausing. She went up again and came down around him hard, feeling him impossibly far. Her vulva contracted, and he hurried up, knowing her. His expert thumb squeezed her clit when he was fully inside her and kept up the pressure.

Warmth flooded over her and she jerked forward, resting her head on his shoulder, ecstatic. She felt her cock twitch and him undoing himself at last. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she felt him growl behind her ear.

He slipped out of her and she relaxed in his arms. He began to place brief kisses on her neck and felt her hum, content.

Who would have thought that his night would end like this. Only hours ago he had been on the verge of collapse, furiously crumpling newspapers, cursing Dumbledore and his own sense of justice. And now there he was, in the arms of his love, relaxed, wanting to sleep on that same couch pressed against her.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She mumbled after a few moments of soft caresses. Charlie chuckled at the sight of her not even attempting to get up, still attached to his body.

“Go, I’m going to pick this up. Do you want something to eat?”

Kate lifted her head and, a little sleepily, nodded, catching his mouth in several sloppy kisses.

He helped her up and glanced at the clock. The hands had stopped at twelve. Well, it didn’t matter what time it was, either. He heard her complain about the pain in her legs and laughed.

“You need to exercise more!” he shouted at her. He merely got a grunt in response.

The clock hands resumed their course as soon as Charlie stood up and still with her eyes on it, he shook his head before heading for the kitchen.

It had never occurred to them that the untrustworthy artifact wasn’t broken. That it had been specially selected by the romantic Arthur Weasley who, long before them, knew that time stood still when they were together.

A/N. Please don’t let it be too cringy

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley/ofc #charlie weasley/mc #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley/jacob's sibling #kate williams #hphm #first attempt at smut #i had to practise before the ireland fic and i think it turned out okay?#i really had to focus on this one because describing exactly every movement of the characters was a first for me #so different from the rapid action sequences i'm more used to #ive learnt a lot about them with this #please tell me that its not too cringy #ive never been so sel conscious about a fic before #if tumblr flags this then fine.

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