Love Burns (Charlie Weasley X Reader)

Chapter 10: Means Something Different

Chapter 10: Means Something Different

December 1996; two weeks before Christmas

"What do you want for Christmas?" I asked Charlie for what felt like the hundredth time. He was sitting at the dining room table in our cabin, hunched over his work.

"I don't know, love," he said and shrugged, for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I'm going to throttle you."

"Thanks, love."

"You know, Christmas is in two weeks and I haven't gotten you anything yet because you won't tell me what you want. You don't even have to give me specifics. Just give me an idea," I said and grabbed ahold of his arm.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asked and turned to face me. "I have what I want. I just want everyone to be safe, alright? I'm content with what I have. What's the big deal with this Christmas obsession you've got going on?"

"It's just that everything else is so fucked up right now, I want to have a nice, normal Christmas where we can be happy."

Charlie took a deep breath and looked into the distance as he thought.

"Alright, how's this? I would love for you to arrange something with my mum and your mum," he said. "We can have a family gathering."

"I can work with that," I said. "And anything else? Material objects to fuel your bourgeois soul?"

"My what?"

"Capitalism, Charles, capitalism," I said and smiled.

"Capitalism," he repeated and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he seemed to consider my question. "Socks."

"Socks?" I asked and laughed. "You're joking."

"Not at all. I need a pair for the winter."

"Socks it is," I confirmed. "And what would your siblings want?"

"You'll break the bank getting them all something," Charlie said and laughed.

"Yeah, but it's not like we're getting them all new broomsticks or something. Just something so they know we're thinking of them," I said and shrugged.

"I guess so," he said and frowned. "And we have to make sure we don't forget about Harry."

"Is Hermione coming?" I asked.

"Not that I know of," he responded and stood, straightening his papers and tucking them away. "We can worry about that later. Let's do something fun. You said you want normal, so let's do something normal."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it and we'll just pretend like it's our biggest concern. Let's... I don't know... bake something."

"Okay... yeah, let's do it," I confirmed and nodded. "Do you know how to bake?"

"Do you?"

"How hard could it be?" he asked.

"People do it all the time. I've seen people do it all the time. What's the difference?"

"Yeah, me too. My mum bakes all the damn time," he said and smiled, holding his hands up in the air for a high five.

"Your mum bakes all the damn time!" I said and high-fived him, grabbing his hands and holding them in the air for a moment.

"All the time," he repeated. "Let's just do it."

We went to the kitchen and pulled out anything that looked like it could be used to bake. Charlie rummaged around for bowls and pans and immediately began to pour flour into a bowl.