Just Like Home | Charlie Weasley

Chapter 13

A/N: Whoa! Can't believe how many reads this little old story as gotten recently. I only started it because of the lack of Charlie ficus, but now I promise to try harder with updates etc! Enjoy the chapter and I'll be back with another very soon <3

Eleanor was a mess. She had no idea what to wear, how to act or what the hell was going on. She'd been on a minuscule amount of dates in her life and, clearly, none of them had ended particularly well. She'd closed up the shop early on the Wednesday knowing how much she was going to struggle, but as 7pm drew nearer and nearer, her stomach was in pieces. Unfortunately Darcie had to head home so wasn't around to help her out, which she only now realised how much help she would be. Eleanor was completely and utterly hopeless.

With half of the contents of her entire wardrobe strewn across her bed, Eleanor finally settled on a pretty red dress adorned with tiny white flowers. It was rather chilly outside so she paired it with some thick black tights and a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit with her docs. Their date was a casual affair at the Leaky Cauldron, for which Eleanor was extremely thankful for. Posh restaurants and formal dinners made her nervous, so a few butterbeers was perfect for her. She charmed her usual wild curls into soft, smooth waves before she deemed herself ready to go.

Although it was extremely cold outside, she opted to walk in an attempt to quell her abundance of nerves. She walked slowly down the cobbled street, observing the hustle and bustle of the alley as she did so. Her stomach was a complete tsunami of butterflies, not at all easing up the closer she got. Was it always this terribly nerve-wracking to go on a date?! She inwardly groaned at how pathetic she was being, but she simply couldn't help it. There was something about Charlie that sent her insides squirming and her heart racing.

The green-eyed man was firmly on her mind when the familiar exterior of The Leaky Cauldron came into view. Its ancient wooden beams and wonky front door had never seemed quite so intimidating as it did now. She slowed her pace as she approached, sucking in a deep breath and pushing her shaking hands into the pockets of her jacket before walking through the door. The scent of open fires and warm beer flooded her senses as she entered. Peering around in hopes of spotting Charlie, she worried her bottom lip anxiously. She was still five minute early so he probably wasn't there yet.

With a hammering heart and shaky steps, she opted for a small table next to the fire in the corner of the pub. She contemplated the position for a moment before sitting down, wondering if it would appear as though she were trying to lure him to a secluded corner. But, when she gazed around the place, she decided that it was likely Charlie would agree it best to sit far away from the drunken wizards holding up the bar. She hadn't been sitting down too long when Tom, the friendly old wizard who owned the pub, approached her table with a smile.

"Can I get you anything, my dear?" he asked.

"Um... Could I just have a small butterbeer, please?". It wouldn't hurt to have one small beverage in her system before he arrived. Hell, it might help with the ridiculous nerves she was feeling. "Oh, could I also get one more of those please?" she asked before Tom walked away.

What kind of date would she be if she didn't get one for Charlie also. As Tom retreated, she let out a small breath and a tiny smile graced her lips. She couldn't believe this was happening.

The butterbeers arrived on a floating tray, and there was no sign of Charlie. Eleanor decided he was probably caught up helping George in the shop. It didn't help the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that he'd obviously changed his mind. That, or the whole thing was just some kind of elaborate joke in the first place. She swallowed these thoughts, along with a mouthful of butterbeer, the sickly-sweet substance only stirring her stomach more. With a glance at the clock behind the bar, she saw it was now 7.15pm.

She couldn't help thinking to herself had she got the time wrong? Maybe the wrong day? Another twenty minutes had passed. With each passing minute, Eleanor's heart sank further and further, feeling as though it was stuck in the mud. He was 35 minutes late. Swallowing the lump that has lodged itself firmly in the back of her throat, she drained the dregs of her butterbeer before peering around the pub cautiously.

7.55pm. Eleanor was feeling completely and utterly dejected. Her eyes were hot from the brimming of pathetic tears, and her cheeks burnt from the sheer embarrassment. After almost an hour, she had to admit to herself that it was exactly what it looked like. He had stood her up. 5 more minutes, she told herself. But, those 5 minutes soon came and went.

By 8.15pm, she'd finally had enough. He wasn't coming. As she stood up, she thanked Tom with a watery smile. The old wizard gave her a sympathetic smile in return, his eyes gazing over at the untouched butterbeer on the other side of the table. The bitter evening air nipped at Eleanor's face as she made her way back through the alley, but she couldn't tell due to the burning shame she felt. She couldn't believe it. How had she allowed herself to become stuck on somebody she'd just met? He owed her nothing, she supposed, but he had kissed her! She screwed her eyes shut at the memory of his warm lips on hers, the butterflies switching out for a feeling of nausea as she imagined the way he was probably at home laughing at her right now.

And that was exactly why Eleanor Birch wasn't all that keen on dating. It left one far too vulnerable to heartache. And sheer mortification.