Just Like Home | Charlie Weasley

Chapter 22

"He what?" Darcie squealed as Eleanor recounted what had happened at The Burrow. "Well how do you feel about that? What was it like seeing him again?".

Eleanor leant back against the counter behind her and let out a sigh. "I mean... I think I'm happy I guess? I suppose it means that there might've been a reason that he stood me up... He sounded pretty keen to talk to me...". She trailed off as she recalled the look of desperation on Charlie's face as she went to leave. Surely he wouldn't be acting that way if there weren't a good reason for it?

"Man, he's really got a hold on you hasn't he..." Darcie uttered, watching Eleanor carefully. It was as clear as day to anybody who looked at her that she so deeply wanted to believe that Charlie wouldn't knowingly do something like that, but it was hard. Eleanor didn't have much experience in the dating field and the whole thing had completely knocked her confidence. She wasn't sure what she was meant to be doing or feeling in these situations. She didn't want to be deemed a fool for instantly falling for his charms, pushing the entire thing to the side and giving into her feelings. Yet, something within her was pushing her to hear him out. It's like her body had a craving, an urge, to be around him. The mere thought of it was a little daunting.

"You know it's okay to want to see him, right?" Darcie said gently, coaxing Eleanor out of her thoughts. Eleanor looked up at her kind eyes and, pathetically, felt like she wanted to cry again. "Don't let what other people might think stop you from doing what it is that you want to do. Okay?".

Cracking a small smile, Eleanor nodded and melted into the hug that Darcie offered her. The two said no more about it, and began to clear up the shop for the day when the time rolled around. Eleanor's stomach was in knots thinking about when she would eventually be sending Charlie an owl to tell him she was ready to see him. Should she invite him round? What was she supposed to wear?!

The sun had set by the time Eleanor had closed the shop and had a shower. Peering outside, the dusky sky appeared to almost glow white, the threat of snow falling soon very possible. She decided that it would probably be safer to meet Charlie on neutral ground instead of inviting him round, so opted to dress warm and wrap herself up in one of her colourful knit jumpers. At 6.30pm, she felt she couldn't put it off anymore and sat down with a shaky hand to send him a note that asked him to meet her on the benches outside the apothecary shop a little ways up the alley.

The short walk down to the spot she asked him to meet her was more nerve wracking than it should have been. Eleanor had to scold her own brain for conjuring all kinds of what-ifs; perhaps he wouldn't turn up again? Maybe he'd tell her it was all some kind of mistake and he wasn't sure how to let her down? Tucking her face into the crook of her thick mustard-coloured scarf, she walked against the bitter December evening air that whipped against her face and carried on.

As she approached the spot, she could already see the silhouette of a tall man underneath the street lamp, his outline lit up underneath the orange glow. He appeared to be pacing slowly, his gaze fixed down at the floor with his hands in his pockets. Eleanor walked closer, and the sound of her footsteps against the cobbled pavement alerted him to her presence. Charlie's head shot up, halting his restless pacing when he spotted her, clad in her thick winter coat and favourite scarf. A soft smile spread across his face and he walked the few steps to meet her in the middle.

"I was worried you'd change your mind," he sighed softly in relief.

"Honestly, so was I," Eleanor spoke quietly. He kept a respectful distance, not standing too close, but close enough that his attractive scent teased her nose. How did he always smell so damn good?

Charlie let out a small chuckle, nodding in understanding. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. Shall we walk?".

Eleanor nodded, and they set off slowly down the almost-empty alley. Not many witches and wizards wanted to hang about outside in the December night, meaning most of them would be crammed into the numerous pubs and restaurants. Usually bustling and full of life, the alley was mute and void, only the occasional person passing by.