Just Like Home | Charlie Weasley

Chapter 44

HELLO!!! I'm sorry it's been such a while. I'm back at work and it's completely taken over. I've been mad at myself because Ive been neglecting myself and the things I love doing (like writing this book!) and I decided that enough is ENOUGH. So here is the long-awaited chapter 44, and also... THIS BOOK HAS HIT 100K READS WHILST IVE BEEN AWAY?!?! Excuse me whilst I cry and sob... I appreciate all of the support on this book and I'm sorry that this isn't the most interesting chapter, but you ain't ready for the next one... ;)

Before Eleanor even managed to pry her eyes open, she could feel the thumping great headache that was ready to greet her as she woke up. The small stream of light that was peeping through the gap in the curtain was comparable to that of a glaring laser beam aimed directly into her eyes. In short, it would be safe to say that Eleanor had a hangover. As she did eventually manage to open her eyes, she realised that she was back in her own bed in her own bedroom. Try as she might to remember how on earth she got there, she couldn't. The last thing she remembered was dancing with Charlie not too long after she'd consumed George's concoction. Somebody has obviously taken her home, and she assumed it must have been Charlie. Despite the washing machine feeling in her stomach and the thumping in her head, she still had time to feel a pang of disappointment that he wasn't there with her.

When she finally managed to drag herself from her bed, she gingerly walked the short distance into her kitchen and chuckled at herself when she saw she no longer had last night's jeans on, only her underwear and her top. Almost immediately she spotted what appeared to be a small piece of torn parchment sitting beside a vial of an unassuming green liquid on her kitchen counter. Taking the parchment between her fingers, she peered down at it and saw that it was a note written in an unfamiliar scrawl. The writer of the note had clearly been in a hurry, because Eleanor had to squint and look at the writing from different angles before she could decipher that it said 'hangover cure'. She turned the parchment over in her fingers, hoping to find something, anything, written from Charlie but her heart sank when there was nothing. She placed the note back onto the counter, turning to rest against it as she paused to think about last night. Her skin warmed when she thought of the time she'd spent with Charlie, what they'd gotten up to and how exhilarated she felt, but now she was alone in her house with no idea how she got there and nothing from Charlie to indicate how or why she was there. The first thought that popped into her mind was that she'd gotten terribly drunk, embarrassed herself and subsequently was now single after Charlie had realised what a liability she was. But he wouldn't... Would he?

With a deep sigh and a slight wince, Eleanor pulled herself together and gingerly stepped into the shower. She would sort herself out and then send Charlie a note. Yes, good idea. Her body was filled with a strange sensation. Nothing bad had happened that she knew of, but something within her was telling her that something wasn't right. Something felt off, inexplicably so. She attempted to push the thought out of her mind as she massaged shampoo into her hair but her stomach continued to twist despite her imploring to her own intuition to back off and stop being so dramatic.

A short while later, freshly showered and wrapped up in her comfiest jumper and leggings, Eleanor sat down to write a quick note to Charlie before deciding to head to her Dad's for a visit. Unsure of what to say, she sat back on the sofa and worried her lip a little before giving herself a mental slap for being silly.
Charlie,
Thank you for a wonderful night.
She began, and then paused again.
From what I can remember, anyway! I hope I didn't embarrass myself too much, but if I did then I blame George. Have a lovely day with your family and I hope to see you very soon. Happy new year!
Eleanor x

There. Short, sweet and no inkling of her strange emotions that were stirring. She handed her letter to her owl, giving her a gentle smooth before watching her soar off into the cloudy January sky.