The Ugly One *Charlie Weasley*

Crazy

Molly was a bucket of nerves. Fretting even more so than what had become usual and nearly burst full into tears when Arthur - or anyone for that matter- left the house.

Saffron could understand why. She had been out - once in the past few weeks- along with Charlie, and still it terrified her. It was like nothing she could have imagined and the rumours of who had been 'taken care of' for being a muggle born or a half blood was truly blood curdling. It kept reminding her of the run in with Bellatrix, Greyback and the unknown Death Eater. What Bellatrix had said about sending someone for her from the ministry.

It set her on edge constantly. She hardly ate, hardly slept, and when Charlie confronted her gently about what was going on with her, she just shook her head, 'just not feeling well,' she lied.

So they'd cooped her up in bed, Molly demanding her stay there until she was well.

Saffron sat there, always leaving the bowl beside her bed full, too busy staring at the wall and biting her nails until they almost disappeared.

She too was a nervous wreck. She had no idea how to explain this to Charlie. She didn’t want to explain it to him.  She was scared.

She was scared of them coming, coming for her. She knew Charlie would try to protect her, try to make sure they didn't take her away. And she knew what the Death Eaters would do to him to get her. They had no conscious.

She felt sick to her stomach, and started on another nail, her pinkie, which had already bled twice that day.

A knock at the door sounded, she didn't say a word, knowing it was going to open anyway.

"I've brought you some soup," Molly's voice entered her bedroom. She and Molly had had a rough patch but since both were filled with love it was easy for them to rebuild their relationship.

Molly used a soft tone around Saffron, she was worried about her and just looing at her made her worry double time.

She was pale, bags under her eyes, looking exhausted, her nails were at her lips, and her eyes hadn't moved from the wall.  She hadn't even flinched.

Molly placed the bowl down on the table beside her bed.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently. This time Saffron turned to look at her, removing her figure from her mouth and attempting a smile, only it came out as a grimace.

"A little better," Saffron said, another lie. Molly didn't believe her, not one bit, but she smiled politely before, brushing her hair off her boiling head before leaving the room.

Saffron didn't even look at the soup, she couldn’t. Normally she would have eaten it, at least out of politeness but she just couldn't stomach it. Her nails reached her mouth again and she continued mindlessly chewing her thumb nail.

"Charlie," Molly said, getting the attention of her son who looked as worried as he did as he stared at his own plate of food.

Charlie's head shot up at the sound of his mothers voice and he stood from the table and followed her into the living room as she directed.