Yours truly ; Charlie Weasley

Eight

In case anyone wanted to get a visual of Ember and her family, I've made a collage to show who portrays them.

Btw, I've changed Ember's character so now she's portrayed by Riley Rasmussen.

-

I actually heard George laugh. We were sitting on the blanket in an area full of grass near the beach where Bill and Fleur lived, and I said some joke that made George laugh. I hadn't heard his genuine laugh since Fred died.

It was nice seeing. I hated how broken he was after he lost his twin. I understood it and I would never blame him for not being the same, but it was nice seeing him smile and laugh instead of crying.

"How's it going with the shop?" I asked him, throwing a strawberry into my mouth.

"It's stressful." He explained. "It's hard to do it all without Freddie, but I know he would've wanted me to continue. I'm thinking about hiring some more help. There's only me and Verity. Ron's actually offered to come help me manage the shop but I don't want to pull him away from being an Auror."

I hummed and crossed my legs as I looked at George. He had this distant look in his eyes while looking out at the ocean.

"How about your business?" George asked. "Oh, and your biography! Are you finished with that yet?"

I shook my head slowly, looking at him again as he took a bite of the sandwich in his hands. I used a simple spell to fill the basket with food. It's not like I had any at the loft, seeing as I hadn't lived there for five months now.

"I haven't had any motivation to write, so it's going a bit slow. But the business is going great! I have a lot of paperwork right now and then I might take on the Lovegoods and the Quibbler."

"I thought you wanted to publish only books." George frowned slightly.

"That was the initial plan but then Mr Lovegood wanted me to consider it and Valencia made me realise that if I take on papers and magazines, I can make more money."

"Money is always good." He chuckled softly. "I was thinking—"

He put down his sandwich and brushed his hands together while swallowing harshly.

"I want Fred to be remembered." He said. "And you're a pretty known author. Can you mention him in your biography? Either write about his death or make a— I don't know... some kind of tribute to him."

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"Have you mentioned the idea to your family?" I asked. "I would love to see give him a tribute. He deserves that, but if there is any chance that it's only going to cause pain with your family, I can't do it."

"I don't think it'll hurt them." He shook his head slowly. "I know mum and dad would really love the idea. I can ask the rest though, then come to you about it."

I leaned back with my hands against the blanket and unfolded my legs. I looked up at the sky. It was light blue with only a few skies on it.

"Do you want to talk about what happened with Charlie?" George asked. "We only know very little of what you and he have told us."

I looked at him again.

"I don't know what I did wrong." I admitted. "We were doing fine. I was—"

I pressed my lips together and let out a small laugh while I ran a hand over my face.

"I got off work, closed up the shop and I went up to see how he was doing." I continued. "Most days he'd just lie in bed or get out to make himself some coffee. Though that day he was packing all of his things."

It hurt to talk about but maybe it would distract George from losing Fred. Maybe sharing my problems with him would make him feel better.

"The thing that really stuck to my head is the words he said." I sighed. "I need to get away from you. Then he grabbed his stuff and apparated to Romania."

"So you know where he is?" George questioned. "Why don't you go see him? Talk to him?"

I shook my head and sat up straight. Instead I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to give myself some kind of comfort.

"I don't think I'll do that." I informed him. "Cause why should I go chasing after him when he made the decision to leave? No— if Charlie decides that I deserve an explanation, he's more than welcome to come home."

Home.

I don't even call it home anymore. I moved in with my older sister for fuck sake.

"My brother is being an a-hole." George told me. "And I'm not trying to excuse his actions but I know he loves you and leaving must've been hard for him."

"Was sure hard for me." I sighed. "One thing I don't understand though, is that all those years we've known each other. Fifteen years and eight months and we've always been great at communicating about our relationship. I hate that he shut himself in after what happened."

"I guess that's a Weasley thing." He said softly. "None of us have really talked that much about it. Especially me. I hate talking about Fred, y'know, though I love it at the same time because I miss him."

I nodded slowly, looking at him to show that I was listening.

"It was always Fred and I. We spent every day together throughout our entire life and now he's just not there in the flat when I wake up in the morning." He said. "You know, sometimes I imagine he's just sick, that he'll be there when I close the shop."

I know what you mean.

Fred usually loved to prank Charlie and I. We'd receive a new package every week with some kind of prank inside of it and I remember all the times where we'd try and figure out what Fred had come up with. Once, Charlie poked the box with his wand and then the box exploded.

That doesn't happen anymore.

Fred would never admit it but he did it because he knew it made our day just a little bit better. If we had had a bad week, a stressful week, it would get us to laugh.

"I don't know how I've gone through the last year without him." George continued. "And I certainly don't know how I'll get through the next."