Lyra || Charlie Weasley ||

It's Charlie, alright?

As I enter the kitchen, I'm stopped short by the sight of my parents caught in a tender embrace, my father's arms wrapped around my mother's waist - They are kissing, again.

"Are you two ever not snogging?" I ask, fake gagging, "There goes breakfast!"

Dad flashes a roguish grin, while Mom's cheeks flush a deep pink. She ducks her head into Dad's shoulder. "It's gross, honestly," I say, shuddering dramatically.

"Lyra!" Dad exclaims in mock affront. "Don't call your poor parents gross."

Mom's melodic laugh rings out as she playfully swats Dad's chest. "Oh stop it, she's just being a dramatic, gets that from you, Reg." Dad rolls his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. "Please, if she gets the dramatics from anyone, it's you, my dear."

My younger brother Ara mumbles under his breath from his seat at the kitchen table, "You're both equally dramatic." He shovels a forkful of eggs into his mouth before continuing, "Now can we hurry up? Ginny will be waiting."

Ah right, today's the day. We're meant to meet up with the Weasleys and my dear cousin Harry to attend the Quidditch World Cup final. I just finished my third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and my best friend is Hermione Granger. "Alright alright, let's get a move on then," Dad says, giving Mom one last peck on the cheek before releasing her.

We all grab hands, smiling in anticipation. With a loud crack, we Disapparate and vanish from the kitchen, reappearing at our destination. The Quidditch World Cup was a cacophony of colors and excitement, with wizards and witches from all corners of the magical world converging to witness the pinnacle of the sport. I walked around with awe and excitement, as I absolutely love Quidditch although I am so bloody scared to get on a broom since I fell down when I was 6.

We made our way through the vibrant crowds to the Weasley's tent and ducked inside. Ara instantly ran to Ginny's side, while I scanned the room for any sign of Ron, Hermione, or my cousin Harry. But the only ones there were George and Mr. Weasley.

"Regulus, Belle!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, moving to hug my father. "Arthur, good to see you!" my dad replied enthusiastically.

"Lyra!" George called out, giving me a side hug. "Ron and Harry went off exploring somewhere. But Hermione's in the back reading if you want to join her."

I nodded eagerly and made my way through the labyrinth of bunkbeds to find Hermione tucked away in a corner, nose buried in a heavy book. She looked up and beamed as I plopped down beside her.

We instantly fell into easy conversation, catching up on summer adventures and speculating about the upcoming match. After a while, George called out "Come on ladies, it's time for lunch!" Hermione and I made our way back to the main area of the tent.

As I entered, Ron immediately beamed. "Lyra! You made it!"

"Of course! Wouldn't have missed it for the world," I replied, as he pulled me into a hug. I caught sight of my cousin over his shoulder. "Hey Harry!" Harry smiled and gave a little wave back. Well, I had just seen Harry a couple of days ago, but it had been nearly six weeks since I'd seen Ron.

"C'mon, you've got to meet Charlie. Oi, Charlie!" he hollered, waving over a stocky redhead.

Charlie turned, and I found myself gazing into a pair of warm hazel eyes, flecked with hints of amber and olive. They reminded me of a perfect cup of coffee. I stopped short, momentarily stunned.

"Charlie, this is Lyra," Ron continued. Charlie smiled broadly. "Nice to meet you, Lyra," he said, extending his hand. I shook it, feeling the warmth of his palm and the strength in his grip.