Inimicus- Charlie Weasley

1.

Pre - 5th year
August 1993

She was standing in the middle of an aisle, stuck between choosing what color quidditch guards she wanted this year. Brown or dark brown? And Charlie Weasley was annoyed, amused too, but mostly annoyed as he watched the girl struggle on making a decision. He had been looking at random things on the opposite shelf, waiting for her to grab one and leave, so that he wouldn't be rude, but it had already been over ten minutes, and he was done being patient.

"For Merlin's sake they're all the same." He impatiently pushed her out of the way, grabbing any pair of gloves before he headed towards the register to pay.

"Idiot." She rolled her eyes, moving back in front of the product she had been looking at, while gently rubbing her shoulder pain away.

See, if Charlie Weasley actually cared about quidditch like she did. He would realize that he didn't just choose brown gloves, but more of a walnut brown. He chose gloves that were much thicker, smaller in size, meant for someone with small hands like a female, and also of course, gloves for someone who plays keeper. What he really should have done was reach for the fingerless gloves in his size, for his position as chaser, like hers.

Hope on the other hand was struggling because she wants a darker brown almost black color; gloves that are meant for a chaser, and of course in her size. But the store currently only carried them in a size too big, and in her size they only had regular brown available.

The bell rang, signaling a new customer, but Hope knew better. She knew it was her father pretending not to be impatient because he was stuck taking her and brother school shopping this year. Like the entire family, he also hates shopping.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Sort of." She finally looked away from the shelf. "I will need to order them."

"What wrong with those?" He asked pointing at the full shelf.

"They're not the ones I want." She replied joining his side as they walked out of the little shop in Diagon Alley.

"They are just gloves, Hope." The man teased his daughter who sent him a playful glare. "I'm kidding. I'll have your mother order some and have them owled to you before tryouts."

"I don't need to tryout. I'm still on the team."

"They'll be sent before tryouts." He repeated, smiling knowing very well that she still had to help out at tryouts. "Come on, I promised your brother ice cream before heading home. He should be there already." He handed her some of the books he had picked up for them. Immediately she was shoving them into the small beaded cross body purse she held. Luckily for her, her mother had gifted it and placed an undetectable extension charm on it for her fifteenth birthday.

"Yay!" The girl cheered excitedly taking her fathers hand just for old times sake.

As the two walked to the parlor, from the corner of her eye, shook caught sight of the familiar redhead. Well, red heads.

She wanted nothing more than to get back at Charlie for pushing her. Though the two had known each other for four-going on five years, she never really associated herself with the red head, let alone spoke to him. Sure, being on the team meant they were basically always together, but she kept more to herself, if not, she could always be found with the Weasley twins only because they were in the same year and had most of their classes together. She's never had an actual conversation with Charlie, not unless he was explaining a play or yelling, though that mostly had to do with him being captain. Which she found ironic. He doesn't even love the sport, he's not passionate. It's just a hobby for him. It should have been given to someone who actually cares about the sport. Like her or someone who she very much disliked, Oliver Wood. He was mental, but anyone but Charlie deserved to be captain.

"Who are you starring at?" Her father stopped walking, looking back to see if he can spot what she was looking at.

"Nothing." She responded and continued walking.

By the time the trio had finished with their ice cream and could apparate home, Mr. Macmillan made sure to stop at the family bakery for some baked goods for his wife's cravings. Although, Hope pretended she didn't want to be there, she was happy in the end when she walked out devouring an oatmeal cream pie.

"Ah, Henry!" A voice called out causing Hope and her father to turn along with her younger brother.

"Mr. Weasley, how are you?" Hopes father smiled adjusting the box of baked goods he carried. "I assume you're also last minute shopping?"

"You would be correct. Are these your children?"

"Yes, yes. This is Hope and this is Regulas." Mr. Macmillan introduced his children proudly, never once thinking about the fact that they were both not his biological children. Though most usually never questioned the teenage girl. Nobody ever suspected she wasn't his blood, she was as light skinned as he is and almost had the same colored hair, only hers was more on the brownish red side while his was pure strawberry red. Regulas on the other hand, Merlin was he a spitting image of his mother, or rather, uncle. He definitely didn't resemble Henry's looks and he definitely didn't inherit his biological fathers, but he sure was as smug as he was.

"Hi." The girl sent a quick smile, and put her hands behind her back in an attempt to hide the oatmeal pie, not wanting to be rude and continue eating in front them.

"Hope? Beautiful name." Mr. Weasley smiled as he shook her hand. "Young Regulas, pleasure. This is our friend Harry Potter and these are my boys. Ron, Fred, George and Charlie. Charlie is in his final year."

"Really?" Mr. Macmillan looked over at the eldest boy who was definitely the tallest of the bunch, but a lot more stocky, he knew why when he noticed a new broomstick in his hands. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"No, sir. But I have a few choices in mind." Charlie responded keeping his eyes locked on the man and trying not to look at the girl who had definitely matured over the summer. Unlike the girl he was used to seeing, the one with the slick tight ponytail, this girl had her hair let down and it was much longer, just like her. She had grown taller and definitely developed curves. He would know.

"Brilliant. It's always good to have options. Anyways, I must be getting to the Mrs. I'm sure we'll see you tomorrow on the platform?"

"Absolutely." Mr. Weasley agreed. "Have a lovely evening." He waved and began to lead his children down the street to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Can we go now?" Hope asked before biting into her oatmeal pie.

"Or course." Her father nodded, snatching her pie to take a bite for himself. "You're aunt is a genius." He savored the taste. "Remind me to never make her angry again."

"Will do." Hope laughed and took back her pie, but not before her brother snatched it and shoved the rest into his mouth earning him a punch in his shoulder.