The morning of the last day of June dawned quicker than anticipated, and Charlie stirred awake in the attic of the Burrow, welcoming the day ahead of him with rapid blinks that allowed him to acknowledge his surroundings, perhaps for the last time.
He stretched, and as he suddenly became acutely aware of the absence of Ron's usual snores, Charlie turned to see his friend wide awake, brow furrowed, sitting as still as a stone, his elbows atop his lanky knees, chin in his hands, simply staring at Charlie.
"What's the matter?" Charlie asked, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"So... you're sure?"
"Ron..." Charlie couldn't help but roll his eyes after all of the conversations he'd had this week, all the firm assurances he'd given.
Yes, this was what he wanted, what they wanted.
They were sure.
They'd never been more sure of anything, really.
"I know it's Hermione and everything — you and Hermione, but —"
"But what, Ron? You think we're being a bit reckless?" said Charlie sarcastically, but not unkind, a smirk on his lips, his eyebrow raised. "Or would you've preferred we waited until you and Lavender got married first?"
Ron's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, "Er —"
"Listen," Charlie sighed, "this might be the least reckless thing I've ever done. But I dunno if I can say the same for Hermione, agreeing to be stuck with me and everything —"
"You're mad," Ron shook his head, sniggering lightly. "The two of you, but I guess that's why we're friends."
Charlie laughed, unable to argue. He swung his legs out of bed and glanced out the window. The sun was shining gold over the Burrow's garden, and Charlie smiled as he imagined how the light would shine in Hermione's hair in only a few hours time.
"Oh, great, you're awake!" came the voice of Harry Potter, as he came bustling into the room, his hands full of shoeboxes, with various ties draped around his neck. "It's starting to get a bit chaotic," he added, closing the door behind him with a huff. "Mrs. Weasley's trying to get everything organized downstairs, and Elaina and Ginny have been fussing over the state of Hermione's hair for the last hour."
"Not much to fuss about, I reckon... it'll be bushy," sniggered Ron under his breath, "it's always bushy."
"My thoughts exactly," huffed Harry, setting down the shoeboxes at last. "Merlin, I don't recall this much madness when Elaina and I got married — it's like a bloody zoo downstairs in the kitchen!"
"What, getting cold feet?" Charlie asked his best friend, turning around with a smirk. "About being my best man?"
"Absolutely not," beamed Harry, his smile contagious. "Chaos or not, I've been looking forward to this day for ages."
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