Charlie & You

Dear (Y/N),

 There is nothing like watching a dragon flying overhead. I know you remember that Horntail. Now imagine dozens of dragons instead of just the one. Imagine them free and wild and safe. Imagine that you can feel the beat of their wings as the wind reaches you from a hundred feet below.

Ginny mentioned you in her letter the other day, from that time you stayed with my family for Christmas. I don’t know how she can pull up so many happy memories so quickly. She’s going to make someone very happy someday. Ron, on the other hand, I hope he finds some people or someone that’s strong-willed. He needs someone to keep him in check.

 Sincerely, Charlie

…

 Hi, Charlie,

 I remember Ron. He’s the one that where everything comes out of his mouth before he thinks about it. Ginny was sweet. I’m surprised she remembers me. The auror training program is worse that me and Nymph thought. We thought it would be a lot like Defense Against the Dark Arts and it is at the best of times, but sometimes we get a stuffy trainer that we are supposed to deal with.

And then sometimes we get Mad-eye. Nymph loves when he’s our overseer. And I mean overseer. He pushes us like a task-master, but it feels like he’s actually preparing us for what’s out there, you know?

Still, I sometimes wonder if this is what I should be doing or not. I doubt you wonder that. You are right where you’ve always wanted to be. It sounds like a dream come true and I could not be happier for you.

 Sincerely, a tired auror-in-training

…

 (Y/N)!

 A baby dragon was born today! The Hungarian Horntail we rescued had one of her eggs hatch today. It’s all black, but no spikes yet, those won’t start showing until she’s a couple months older.

It was so good to get your letter the other day. I was remembering the Cursed Vault in the forest in the days leading up to the hatching.

You and Nymphadora can handle anything. Even Mad-Eye Moody. I have complete faith in you.

 Charlie Weasley

…

 Oh Charlie,

 I’m not sure we can handle anything, but we’ll certainly try. I know Nymph would. We are really busy right now as we are gearing up for our first auror exams. We won’t officially be full-fledged aurors for a couple of years, but these ones will allow us to go into the field with another fully trained auror by our side. We’ll find out who that is after the exams if we pass.

I can’t imagine watching a baby dragon hatch. That would be crazy to see.

                                   (Y/N)

…

 Hey, (Y/N)

 I got a letter from my brother, Ron. He’s at Hogwarts for his first year this year. Anyway, I guess they’ve gotten close with Hagrid and you’ll never believe this, Hagrid got a dragon egg! A Norwegian ridgeback to be precise. His name is Norbert and Hagrid wants to keep him, but you know it’s illegal in Britain. He’ll get in so much trouble. Nymph sent me a letter a few days ago saying she was planning on visiting me at the sanctuary. Do you think you could possibly come with her and make a stop of your way at Hogwarts to pick up Norbert. It’s just a hatchling so a little carrier between brooms should be able to carry him. I wouldn’t ask only Nymph isn’t very good with magical creatures and you are one of the only people I trust with this job.

Let me know if you can.

                                              Love, Charlie

…

 Charlie,

 The plan is in motion. See you in two days.

 -(Y/N)

 P.S. Nymph is going to be training with Mad-Eye Moody when we get back. She’s ecstatic. And I get to train with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Graduation

(Y/N) tweaked her graduation robes until they were situated correctly in place. And then, with a flurry of her wand for a finishing touch, she said, “Tactus aurum.”

A halo of light lifted around her and then fell, falling onto her sleeves and other parts of the draping cloth. When it settled on the black fabric, it turned into starlight sparkles of gold.

The final task of any Hogwarts student, picking the spell to bequeath to their graduation robes.

“You ready?” Chiara peeked her head inside, her own robes lined with silver, and if one looked closely enough…wolves.

“I like your robes,” (Y/N) smiled, reaching her silver haired friend.

Chiara gave her a grin that was almost more a baring of teeth and (Y/N) laughed. It felt like a mirthful laugh and she let herself feel it, let herself treasure it and lift her up.

The way down to the great hall was not clogged like it usually was. Indeed, all the younger students were reportedly already down there, in their places so that the seventh years, the graduates could arrive last.

As (Y/N) and Chiara approached the back hallways, the thin corridors that led to the back of the great hall and the room behind it, she caught sight of more than a few of her fellow classmates. Diego Caplan’s robes were a sunshine yellow. Tulip Karasu’s blue robes sported exploding fireworks actually exploding on the fabric, sucking in and then exploding again. Liz Tuttle’s robes were the simple graduate black, but had a tiny picture niffler running along the fabric so that one tried to keep track of him only to lose sight of him again.

Chiara broke off from (Y/N) to talk to them right outside the room while (Y/N) entered alone to the sight of even more of her seventh year friends.

Badeea Ali in robes of moving falling stars; Talbott Winger, with a full raven, wings spread wide, on the back of his; Merula and Barnaby in robes of emerald green, though Barnaby’s had tiny bowtruckles running all over it, Ismelda in robes somehow even blacker than the rest of them; Penny Haywood in light yellow robes with flowers drifting to land on the bottom, so that the flowers were slowly building up at her hem; and Ben Copper, a moving, roaring lion on the back of his robes.

(Y/N) smiled when three familiar figures approached her.

Jae wore scarlet robes with a golden sheen that (Y/N) swore looked like tiny galleons in the shifting light. Andre wore robes with more delicate spells than any of them, moving brooms around the collar and other hem lines, delicate and artful stitching in other places that he no doubt did himself, and delicate, but polished buttons. (Y/N) smiled when she saw Tonk’s robes.

Dora wore robes that faded from pink the color of her hair to the truest white at the bottom, and along the hems, wands and dragons.

(Y/N) felt her eyes well with tears at the homage to Charlie.

“What do you think they are gonna do?” Andre asked, shifting his robes so that they sat straighter on him.

(Y/N) shook her head, but it was Dora who answered.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be memorable.”

(Y/N) smiled then, “things at Hogwarts always are.”

“Graduates!” Professor Flitwick whisper shouted from the front of the room, closest to the doors out into the Great Hall. “It’s time!”

Her peers hustled to get in line, those in the hallway called back in by other students and they all filed into one long single file line. She found herself, not by accident, right behind Nymphadora Tonks.

And suddenly the doors were opened, and the first person in line, Murphy was ushered out in his announcer inspired robes, followed shortly by Skye Parkin in quidditch robes.

The line shifted forward. (Y/N) felt herself shuffling forward, just focusing on keeping track of the end of Dora’s robes in front of her.

More people were called out. (Y/N) could hear mumbled speaking, mumbled cheers from the hallway, and one by one, her friends left the room stepping out into the Great Hall beyond.

She could just make out part of the doorway above the heads of the other graduates; all she could see through that little bit of window was the ceiling of the Great Hall.

Sunset, to match the time of day and no doubt what was happening outside the walls of this castle as the day turned to night, evening turned to dusk.

Another graduate, Badeea this time, left out into the hallway and (Y/N) watched her and then three others follow with baited breath.

Ben, then Barnaby, Ismelda then Merula, Diego, then Talbott and Tulip. Liz, then Chiara, and finally, Jae.

That’s when (Y/N) looked behind her and realized she was the last person in line.

She exhaled.

Andre left through the doors, leaving only her, Professor Flitwick, and Dora in the room when suddenly Dora turned around, stopping, and pulled her wand from her robes.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing to (Y/N)’s robes.

(Y/N) nodded and Dora reached out, waved the wand over her head.

And Dora spoke, her voice sure, but soft, softer than (Y/N) had ever heard it.

“Memini Doni.”

Golden stars fell before (Y/N)’s eyes, blurring her vision as they landed on her robes. She looked at her right cuff, where one of the golden stars landed amid the ones she had placed on her robes earlier, but this one exploded when it hit.

And it turned into a phoenix.

The phoenix flew off, across her robes and she watched as another star landed, this one exploding into a snitch.

She watched the snitch fly off as another star landed right beside it on her arm and a book exploded into the fabric, flapping like wings. As the stars landed, they all exploded; a thunderbird, then a cauldron, a broom, then a bowtruckle; a feather, then a scarf, a bubble then a puffskein, and a firework. Altgoether, the items soared across the fabric, manifesting in shades of gold.

The last star, the one yet to land, floated above (Y/N)’s nose before falling, landing and exploding somewhere on the bottom of her robes.

She saw a shifting of wings, and then the creature soared up, flying out of sight as it circled behind her back.

But it reappeared, launching itself right onto her right arm and curling up around it.

(Y/N) found herself reaching with her left hand to touch the dragon, the gold embossing on her robes shimmering with its scales.

She meant to thank Dora, but all that came out of her mouth was:

“I miss him.”

Dora laid her hand right over (Y/N)’s.

“Me too.”

She turned from her and stepped up the steps.

“Dora?!”

She turned back.

“Thank you.”

Dora turned back, glancing back just once , smiling, before she stepped out into the Great Hall to a roar of cheers.

(Y/N) felt a few tears fall from her face, landing on her robes and making the golden parts of the fabric shimmer even more.

“Whenever you’re ready, Miss (Y/LN),” Professor Flitwick spoke from where he stood right beside the door.

(Y/N) took a long pull of breath, looking up.

“I’m ready.”

The crowd cheered just as they had when the others had entered the hall, and altogether, the graduates stood together on the stage, holding hands, before they were permitted to move to their seats and their house tables, right in the front. Honors were announced then, as well as students who received varying academic awards for various subjects. (Y/N) barely heard they announced her award for defeating and finally breaking the curse on all the cursed vaults in the school.

But she did hear when they announced the awards for Care of Magical Creatures astounding N.E.W.T.S. and honors.

Lizard Tuttle, Barnaby Lee, (Y/N) (Y/LN), and finally, Charlie Weasley, for the award of most outstanding caretaker of all magical creatures, demonstrating the most bravery and compassion in any field.

(Y/N) smiled, touching the dragon on her arm as she watched Professor Dumbledore make his speech to the graduates. At the end, he spoke four words that she had never heard him say before.

“Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

The whole crowd cheered when the feast appeared before them, everyone found themselves filling themselves to their fullest, as well as traveling around the room to hug various other graduates, or in the younger students’ cases, hugging graduates that they would miss.

It was long after the sky overhead had turned to starlight, the candles floating in the air trying to reflect the light from the heavens that the heads of houses collected all the graduates, leading them out of the hall and through a side corridor first. They waited for a while, talking among themselves when Professor McGonagall finally let them all exit out a side door of the castle, into the starlight and out onto the grounds right before the Black Lake.

It was only then that (Y/N) realized what was going on when she saw the little boats on the shore, lanterns at their prows, and Hagrid standing on the sand before them.

She glanced back up at the castle, seeing the lights of dozens of lanterns and candles and the shapes of hundreds in front of the doors to the castle, notably among them, a candle lit a figure with long robes and a silver beard.

She could have sworn she saw him smile before she followed the others down to the beach and helped them all get into the boats.

“Forward!” Hagrid called and they all felt the boats lurch forward and they sailed across the Black Lake, under a sky of stars, and away from Hogwarts.

(Y/N) glanced back once more, glimpsing the sight of all the lights in the castle, the towers and turrets, and the crowd of people with lanterns and candles right before the doors, all of which she could only see the lights.

Then she turned back, gazing towards the other side of the lake and the train that she knew was there.

This is the end of Year 7! Stay tuned for more!Comment with the Hogwarts house you’re in and a description of your Mc!

The way down the long lawn in front of the castle was wet despite the gentle sunshine peaking through the clouds, the rain stopping just long enough for them all to have a moment of peace for this moment.

This one long moment.

(Y/N) took a breath in and out, feeling Charlie’s hand clasped in hers where they walked at the back of the pack. She could see Penny and Ben at the front leading the way and saw them come to a stop on the long lawn next to three tall figures, two with very tall hats.

She saw Fred Weasley offer Professor Dumbledore a subtle fist bump and saw the headmaster return it just as subtly before her and Charlie, as the last of the group walking, came to a stop right in front of them on the lawn.

Professor McGonagall, the other figure with the tallest of hats, gave (Y/N) a small private smile.

She returned it and turned back to Professor Dumbledore, the figure beside him a woman, not in any wizard clothes, but in simple, comfortable, muggle garb, jeans and a sweater with a pair of ankle length boots.

“Charlie Weasley,” she grinned, “so you’re the one I’ve been told to watch out for.”

Charlie nodded, a small queasy smile on his face, but (Y/N) could see the excitement behind it in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You don’t need to call me ma’am. We’ll be co-workers in a few hours from what I hear. I’m the best dragon caretaker in the Eastern world. Supposedly, you have even more potential than I had at your age.” A grin creeped across her face, not altogether unwelcome. “I look forward to you proving it.”

The challenge was a friendly one, but a challenge none-the-less, and Charlie stepped forward as though he was going to take it on then and there.

But he glanced back, looking to (Y/N) as if he just realized he had broken contact with her, as if to ask if it was okay.

She gave him the warm smile she knew he needed.

And he grinned back, turning back towards the female witch.

“I’m ready,” he said, a note of excitement in his voice.

The witch smiled, but (Y/N) couldn’t see his returning expression, just the back of his orange ponytail. “Can you apparate?”

“Not well,” she knew then by the tone of his voice that he grimaced.

The witch lifted her arm instead, offering it out to him. “I can do it then. You won’t need to once you can fly.”

Later that night, (Y/N) found herself along the shore of the black lake, like she had done so many times before with Charlie.

She had thought about asking someone else to join her, had thought that it would be too lonely without him. And she decided that she would, later. But she wanted this one last time, this first time without him, to be just her. When she reached the point next to the black lake where they had cast their patronuses years ago, she decided to do it again.

Cast the patronus to remind her of that night, of the light and hope she had felt, that had grown continuously in her this year so that she knew, even in those dark moments, that there would be hope on the other side.

“Expecto patronum.”

The words did not come out as a yell like they had come so many times before, but quietly, not a bare whisper or a hesitant one. Not even a frightened one. But the sure confidence that quiet confidence brought.

She smiled at the familiar sight of blue ghostly wings fluttering into the air, but stepped back when the size of the creature grew and grew, fully forming until it was much larger than a phoenix.

It was a thunderbird.

She had seen it countless times in books, the most notable in Newt Scamander’s guide to care of magical creatures, but it was another thing entirely for the massive creature to be before her.

It spun around, its ghostly blue wings not gold like its realy counterpart, but still ethereal and majestic in beauty as it flapped in the air, turning its long curved head and beak so it faced her.

So close that she could see its eyes.

A quiet sob escaped her.

Thunderbird eyes. His eyes.

She reached her hand forward as though she would touch the luminescent feathers, the shiny ghostly beak.

And she smiled.

Because this meant one very important thing.

That she would always have him with her in these eyes.

Best

Captain

Charlie’s boots made footprints in the mud as he made his way down to the quidditch pitch. Truthfully, he would have rather have been flying, but Professor McGonagall had strict rules about flying to practice from a Gryffindor tower open window, he had found that out the hard way in his third year.

Still the walk wasn’t too bad, despite the leftover wetness from the rain earlier that day, for he was able to quietly observe the Gryffindor team as he entered the pitch.

It was unheard of, three members of the same family taking up three of the seven spots on a quidditch team, but no one could doubt either Charlie’s seeker skills or Fred and George’s ingenuity when it came to their beater abilities. Even as the captain, no one had argued with Charlie about keeping his twin brothers on the team for the last couple years. Out of his peripheral vision, Charlie caught sight of Ben and Jae, the two Gryffindor boys out of the corner of his eye.

Jae was no doubt observing the team so that he could hedge his bets before the next quidditch game. Fred and George had been talking to the older Gryffindor boy often lately, making Charlie a little suspicious and more than a little worried if their mum ever found out what the three trouble makers were hatching.

A traitorous voice in Charlie’s head whispered that it wasn’t his problem anymore.

But he didn’t listen to it.

“Team!” he yelled above the wind, quite strong that day. “We need to have a chat in the changing tent before we warm up. I’ve got to tell you all something.”

They came quietly, only slightly confused, but not overtly concerned as Charlie led them, as a captain should, to the changing room tent, pulling aside the flap so they could all enter and get settled.

Six pairs of invested eyes gazed at him, their captain.

He locked eyes onto Fred and George, the only two who already knew what this would be about.

And so he told them, letting the story of the Romania opportunity flood out of his system and into the air as four faces gazed on in shock, two in understanding.

The biggest pair, the eyes that got brighter and more worried all the time were the hazel eyes of Oliver Wood.

“But Charlie,” he said, “we still have one more quidditch match against Ravenclaw and we’ll be sure to win the cup this year. We need you.”

Charlie smiled.

“Don’t worry, Oliver. I’ll be here for the match next weekend. I’ll be leaving the day after. So, I’ll be sure to catch that snitch one last time for us before I’m out of here.”

Angelina, her mouth having opened to protest, seemed calmed by the knowledge that he would be there for the last match. Katie still seemed surprised, but Alicia of all of them, was settled in her demeanor.

She looked as though she understood.

“You’d have had to get a new seeker next year anyway,” Charlie smiled a comforting smile, though he knew it came off as a little sad as he looked at each of them. “I’m in my seventh year. I wouldn’t have been here next year anyway.”

“Nothing and no one could follow you up,” said Oliver, his eyes betraying the sorrow.

“Maybe someone can,” Charlie smiled his kind smile. “Maybe they’ll be even better than me. Maybe their seeking skills will be legendary and they’ll be the best flyer Hogwarts as ever seen.”

“You’re an optimist, Weasley,” Angelina said, a slight smirk to her lips.

Charlie smiled. “Maybe. But there is still the matter of the new Captain.” His eyes locked onto Oliver Wood.

Charlie was the first to leave the tent, allowing them all to chat and talk game theory and Oliver to already begin strategizing how they would pick out a new seeker, how they would work with the team. So, Charlie went out to the field to be the first one in the air. He wanted to let the team start learning to get along without him. They would have had to next year either way.

But a familiar face, her pointed green hat in a velvet forest green, stopped him from where she stood just a few feet outside the tent.

“You made Wood the new captain, didn’t you?”

“He’s the most passionate quidditch player I’ve ever met. He’ll make a good captain.”

McGonagall smiled. “He’ll make a great captain, though I can’t say I’m not afraid to have him be in charge of the Gryffindor quidditch team for the next three years he’s here. I expect he’ll be able to win us the cup.”

“I expect he will,” Charlie smiled slightly.

And Professor McGonagall returned his smile, humor in his eyes.

“I’ll look forward to hearing your name, Mr. Weasley.”

“I’ll look forward to making my name one that you might hear, Proffessor.”

Professor McGonagall nodded her head, picking up her robes to keep them from dragging in the mud as she moved to go back towards the castle. Then she stopped, turning back to look at him as though she had something left to say that she had almost chosen to not say, but had changed her mind anyway.

“You were one of the best, Charlie Weasley. I hope there are some who have a chance to hear your story.”

Charlie smiled softly.

“I just hope that whatever they hear, it will lift them up.”

“It already has to at least one of us, I know,” Professor McGonagall gave him a knowing look before turning back, walking back towards the castle, her pointed hat bobbing in the wind.

The seventh years increasingly found themselves under the pressure of having to remember everything they’d ever learned for their N.E.W.T.S. And it wasn’t just them, the teachers were clearly feeling the pressure as well, not only were their fifth years about to take their O.W.L.S. in the coming months, but there seventh years were also about to take one of the hardest, and most final tests they would ever take for their various higher order classes. The students could tell that the professors had their attention divided, not to mention strained.

And (Y/N) and her friends knew what the exams meant for them. It meant the difference between what job they would be likely to get in the future, what their future would even look like. She did not miss the strain on her Ravenclaw friends’ faces as they struggled over preparing to prove their merit. To be honest, she felt it as well. But at the same time, she was growing more and more confident in her abilities. Even with that confidence though, there were some mishaps.

The pus spat out of the bubotuber so that everyone around the table, including (Y/N) herself, had to jump away in order to avoid being hit by the bubbling stuff.

Tulip started laughing behind her and (Y/N) rolled her eyes, trying to keep her chuckle in check as Professor Sprout gave them a weary look.

Quickly, with Badeea’s help, she cleaned up the mess in front of her and they were able to catch up with Andre and Talbott whispering instructions to them.

(Y/N) sighed as they made their way back to castle, the remains of the slight burns from the pus still hurting her hands.

“(Y/N)!”

She spun around, the sight of a glorious redhead running towards her at a jog, a piece of some sort of parchment clasped in the grip of his left hand.

“Go on without me,” she told Andre and Badeea, waving them so that they caught up with the others on their way up the stairs. “What’s up,?” she chuckled slightly as Charlie stopped before her, out of breath.

She wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn he flinched.

He glanced back towards the way the others had gone, then behind him. “Take a walk with me around the Black Lake?”

“Of course.”

They walked side by side to the lake, asking each other how they were, but not really talking much, she could feel something, nerves in Charlie and knew she was right when he stuttered upon them reaching the beachy shores.

“I received a letter today from the Romanian Dragon Conservation Department.”

(Y/N) gaped with a smile.

“No way.”

Charlie nodded, his eyes alight. “They offered me a job there.”

(Y/N) elbowed him with her side arm, laughing. “That’s so exciting, Charlie. That’s way better than watching over guard dragons. It’s exactly the environment you wanted to be in. It’s exactly what you want.”

He smiled, “Yeah.” And turned his grinning face out of the sun so it wouldn’t blind him.

“When do you start? In the fall? Right after graduation? Next year?”

“In three weeks.”

(Y/N) froze and she could feel Charlie still beside her. The air seemed to even freeze in the air, though she had thought the winter was starting to give way to spring early, that didn’t seem to be the case. She didn’t yet feel the winter in her heart. But if she had had the awareness to notice, she would have felt the frozenness. The still cold.

“And you’re taking it?” She knew, she just…had to make sure. Had to hear it, especially from him.

“I am,” he replied quietly, so quietly.

She moved to walk again, but didn’t get very far as Charlie didn’t step forward with her.

She turned back.

“Why do they need you so soon?”

“They had an injury. They needed a replacement right away.”

That was the other thing. The danger. She had always known what he loved; it was hard not to know. Everyone knew his passion. Not just for magical creatures, but for arguably the most dangerous, the most untameable of all magical creatures.

And therefore the most beautiful to Charlie Weasley.

She couldn’t fault him for who he was. The way he was was what she loved. It was why she loved him. And that was just the risks, in loving a dragon boy.

“I understand,” she breathed.

Because she did, she knew every part of him, every part of what he loved and what he wanted, as much as she could at least. And she understood. She knew the desire, the drive for something that you wanted, for the future that you wanted. She had felt it often enough, it had driven her to find her brother, it had felt taken from her when Rowan was taken. She even knew the love of magical creatures. And though she didn’t, she doubted anyone could love dragons to the extent that he did, she understood why he wanted to go.

And, most heartbreakingly, she realized she wanted him to go.

“I am so happy for you.”

And she was.

She had bowed her head so she felt more than saw his presence come closer, felt him wrap his arms around her as he drew in close enough so she could see the pattern of his muggle sweater, the one he had been wearing when he had gotten the letter, presumably—when his life was to be changed forever.

But she let her forehead fall into his chest, let him hold her.

She had no strength to cry. She did not feel it yet, but she knew she would later. For now, she just focused on breathing, and she felt him breath against her, letting it lull her into not quite a numbness, but a moment in which she allowed herself not think of anything further, not think of the future or anything else, but just to feel him, just to be here in this moment, a dragon boys arms around her as the wind whistled along the black lake and the invisible breeze brushed against them.

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Liz put a gentle arm around the kneazle and (Y/N) had to pull her attention away from across the forest clearing to her as she spoke to her.

“Sorry. What was that?”

Liz glanced across the sunny glade, “I said he needs his tail brushed out,” she said, smiling slightly at (Y/N), “would you grab me the brush?”

“Oh…uh…yeah,” (Y/N) made an effort to keep her mind on the task as she helped Liz brush out the kneazle’s tail. They were walking back to the castle, the smells of lunch wafting in from the Great Hall as they entered through the main doors when a most disturbing sight reached their eyes.

(Y/N) had to take a second glance to make sure her eyes were still working properly.

It was Professor Snape. But the reason that the image had not made complete sense to her upon first seeing it was that he wasn’t wearing his usual set of identical and drapery black robes.

He was wearing scarlet and gold.

A rather gaudy depiction of the colors if (Y/N) was being honest. He was practically blazing like a lit phoenix.

Both Liz and her were gaping, but it was Merula beside them who began to laugh.

Snape swung around and she shut up straight away before he had caught who had been laughing.

Finally, unable to find the perpetrator, he turned back away.

“Looks like Professor Snape lost a bet with Professor McGonagall after the last match,” a voice said beside them.

(Y/N) turned to see Charlie, a smile lit her features.

“Looks like it.”

“Best we go inside,” he nodded his head to the open doors of the great hall, “before he starts breathing fire as well.”

“Like you were ever afraid of anything that breathed fire,” she said, as she, Liz, and Merula joined him.

They found a seat at one of the center tables for lunch and (Y/N) didn’t have time to look at the food overly much before Merula was already digging in.

“I’m starving,” she muttered between bites.

(Y/N) smirked and turned to talk to Barnaby, but movement out of her peripheral vision caught her eye.

It was an owl, the lopsided creature seemed to be struggling, but there was no mistaking that it was headed directly for them.

At the last second, (Y/N) shifted out of the way as it landed on the table beside her, right in front of Charlie.

Everyone at their table winced as they spied the letter.

“It’s a howler, Charlie,” Barnaby said, grabbing onto Liz beside him as though in fear.

“Better open it,” Ismelda said with a dark look.

Charlie gripped the edges of the parchment with tentative hands, and then, with the finality of going to a funeral, flipped the flap of the letter open.

“Charles Weasley. It has come to my attention that you helped with the celebration feast for Professor McGonagall’s wondrous new promotion. Please send our love to her.

However, it has also come to my attention that while helping, you also knew of the pyrotechnics that George and Fred planned.

I am most… and I repeat…most disappointed in you that you allowed your younger brothers to handle dangerous explosives.

Oh, and (Y/N), congratulations on helping Hufflepuff plan the event. I heard it was a smash hit.”

With a final pop, the letter exploded out of existence.

Charlie stared at the place where the howler had disappeared, aghast.

“How can my mom blame me for that?” Charlie gaped, turning to face (Y/N), “that was your idea.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) shrugged with a grin, “I’m not the dangerous dragon boy with long hair.”

He gave her a quirk of a wry smile.

“Besides, Charlie,” Barnaby said from where he was having a hearty helping of dainty little sandwiches, three stacks tall. “Doesn’t your mum love (Y/N)?”

“That’s true,” Charlie grinned, grabbing to steal one of the sandwiches, but Barnaby slapped his hand away with a reproachful look.

Charlie leaned over to speak low so only (Y/N) could hear, “he eats like my brother and holds his food in the same high regard that he does.” (Y/N) laughed and Charlie smiled to see the grin on her face. “You know. There’s something I want to show you on the fifth floor. It’s on the left wing of the castle, looking West. I think you’ll like it.”

“Today?”

“Tonight.”

The steps leading up to the balcony were slick with rain, but Charlie held tight to her hand as he helped her up the stairs. When she got to the top of the flight, an exhale escaped her in a whoosh of breath.

The balcony looked out over the western sky.

And the orangey sunset was visible even with the rain currently letting down over their part of the world.

“How did you…find this place?” She gaped, looking out over the view of the mountains in the distance, the sun just lowering to touch their peaks.

“Can’t really take all the credit,” Charlie said, following behind her as she made her way forward more onto the balcony. “It was actually Liz who told me about it. She said you’d like it.”

(Y/N) turned, meeting his gaze, and the small crooked smile that graced his face.

She smiled back, feeling her cheeks match her feelings.

“It’s like being able to see the whole world,” she said, turning back to the view. “Lake, Mountains, Forests. All of nature is just stretched out before us. Even the sky.” She looked down to see the reflection of the sunset in the waters of the black lakes below, like a mirage of the real thing, like some sort of painter’s rendition of the excellence before them, the light cresting the waves like they were clouds in the sky, not on the opposite side of sight.

She spun around, grabbed his face and kissed him. He laughed as she pulled away.

“Wow! You must have really liked it!”

“I do. Thank you.”

Charlie bowed his head and she couldn’t get herself to stop smiling as she found a place to sit in one of the balcony’s benches.

Charlie sat beside her.

“You know, sometimes I forget how beautiful this place is.”

He smiled as he moved his hand to wrap hers.

“Pssst.”

(Y/N) whipped her head around to see Penny, jumping back away from the corner they had been peaking around.

Dora, who had also been surprised by her fellow hufflepuff, was a couple steps away from the corner now as well.

“Fiddlesticks, Penny,” she said, shaking herself out, “you could scare a witch into a heart attack like that.”

“Chiara and Diego told me you were sneaking around outside the teacher’s lounge. I wanted to know what you guys were up to?”

A door clicked open and shut in the corridor adjacent to them and they all stayed quiet for a long moment before the steps clicked away down the hall.

Penny raised an eyebrow when they didn’t immediately answer her question.

“Alright, if you must know, we’re waiting for Professor McGonagall.”

“Why?”

“None of your business,” Dora replied matter-of-factly to her.

Penny raised another eyebrow, but Dora folded her arms, giving the hufflepuff prefect a stubborn look. Penny proceeded to fold her arms in reply.

“Okay,” she said, her voice stern, “but don’t lose hufflepuff any points, Dora.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dora waved her hand, turning back to peek down the corridor to the teacher’s lounge as the door clicked open again. “I’m the biggest ‘loser’ of hufflepuff.” She didn’t seem at all concerned with the idea.

Penny sighed, but didn’t walk away, apparently concerned with the idea of leaving them to their shenanigans more than being afraid of losing hufflepuff more points by being there herself.

That’s what (Y/N) thought at least until she saw the spark in Penny’s eye as she crouched down beside them.

“Okay,” she said, her voice alive, “I’m in.”

Dora grinned, “Here’s the plan—”

Passing notes in hallways and classrooms had already been something of a staple activity at Hogwarts, but became even more common as the next week waxed on. (Y/N) exchanged more than a few knowing looks with some of her classmates, including Jae Kim, Tulip Karasu, Fred and George Weasley. She was talking with Charlie late into one evening, a sofa in the Hufflepuff common room claimed by her and Charlie when she woke up suddenly, aware that almost the entire common room had emptied, including their various cohorts from other houses.

The Hufflepuff students, who had seen a range of students from all houses enter their common room after supper, hadn’t said a word or cast an unwelcoming look, some of them even joining them in their collaboration with giddy expressions.

(Y/N) blinked weary eyes, the few students in the common room who were still there working on homework in the corners of the lobby.

(Y/N) blinked awake, sitting up just enough so that she rustled Charlie who had fallen asleep on the couch beside her. He blinked his eyes open, his thunderbird eyes wide.

“What time is it?”

“Past time to be going to bed.”

He shook his head as if to shake the sleep off of him.

“Our plan…” she said, hesitating, “do you think it’s going to work?”

“How can it not?” He brushed his hair out of his eyes, including the strands that had come out of his ponytail in his sleep. “You got me to get Fred and George involved. It’s gotta work.”

(Y/N) smiled slightly, nodding.

“Alright,” she said, shoving him onto his feet, “we gotta get to bed.”

Her last class of the day had ended early, Professor Sprout preferring to let them go early as the last class before the weekend.

(Y/N) breathed a breath of fresh air exiting the greenhouses before she walked back into the castle, making her way up flights of stairs before landing on one of the landings right before Gryffindor tower.

She needed to talk to the Weasley twins.

But in her surprise, as she turned a corner into a corridor, she almost ran straight into Professor Dumbledore.

Though maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised as it was the corridor that led to the massive golden griffin, behind which was the office she had visited on many occasions, usually for reprimand.

She made an effort not to look suspicious so that fact wouldn’t repeat itself.

Someone else was with Professor Dumbledore, and (Y/N) made a double effort not to look suspicious as she spied Professor McGonagall beside him.

“(Y/N) (Y/LN),” the headmaster said, bowing his head ever so slightly, his white beard shiny from the light of the afternoon sun coming through the windows.

“Headmaster. Professor,” (Y/N) nodded her head to each of them, endeavoring to look the prime of innocence.

That was probably what tipped Professor McGonagall off.

“What are you doing in the West towers this Friday afternoon, Miss (Y/LN)?” her transfiguration professor asked, a raised sharp eyebrow.

“Just off to the library for some studying,” (Y/N) said, trying to move past them nonchalantly.

Professor McGonagall crossed her arms as she turned to face (Y/N), following her with her piercing eyes, a light of realization entered beneath her hat, “didn’t you just come from the greenhouses?” she peered closer at (Y/N), “you would have passed right near the library on your way up here.”

“I—”

“Oh, let her go, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore patted the woman’s arm, “I myself enjoy taking many circuitous routes around the castle when I’m on a venture. In fact, the other day, I discovered a balcony from which you could look at the black lake from this side of the castle. I would never have found it had I not taken the scenic route, as it were.” He turned to (Y/N), “good day, Miss (Y/LN).”

She could have sworn he winked.

“Good day, Professor,” she said, taking her leave before Professor McGonagall could object.

Professor McGonagall was on her way out of the teacher’s lounge Friday evening, the last of the professors to leave for the night, she left at her normal time. The Gryffindor quidditch team were practicing tomorrow and she liked to be there for one of the practices before each of their games.

It was always good to know what bet she wanted to make with Professor Snape on the outcomes before it came around to the day for a match.

That’s when she heard the explosion.

Professor McGonagall had been teaching long enough at Hogwarts to know the banned sound of students using magic when they weren’t supposed to.

Her ears followed the sound like a blood hound on a scent. It lead her down several sets of staircases and to the very edge of the castle.

Light exploded in front of her when she opened the doors to the Great Hall with a flick of her wand.

And then came the cacophony, a dinge of the loudest sounds Minerva had ever heard raged up before her, along with the brightest lights, and array of colors blazing in the rafters. And then there was the people, what appeared to be the whole of Hogwarts grinning at her and…clapping.

Albus, standing on the dais at the end of the room, spread his arms wide as Minerva entered the hall. The students around her began to gesture her forward, making a slope of an aisle from the front to the end of the hall. She reached the end with all the composure she could muster.

When she reached the dais, Albus motioned for her to stand beside him.

His hands padded down and the hall quieted enough for everyone to hear him.

“As many of you may know, Professor Kettleburn is retiring this year.” The Care of Magical Creatures Professor in question nodded from where he sat at the head table. “I’m sure we will all miss the professor very much…But, as many of you might have noticed, that means that there is a position open in the school.” Dumbledore passed his twinkling eyes around the full Great Hall. “The position of Deputy Head.” Dumbledore winked down into a collection of students below the dais. “A position which I offered to Professor McGonagall and which she has accepted!”

Minerva felt her eyes misting and batted away the thought with an inward flick of her wrist.

“I’m sure you can all join me in wishing the Professor good luck!”

The crowd roared.

And, almost as a side note, Dumbledore said, “and we would like to all thank Hufflepuff House for planning this surprise. Thank you Hufflepuff.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes passed down to the collection of yellow and black bedecked students, their faces bright and smiling, and the group standing at their head, a mix of houses represented in and of themselves. “Happy New Year Everyone!”

13. Jason Mraz & Colbie Caillat-Lucky

14. Rachel Platten - Stand By You

15. Maddie and Tae - No Place Like You

16. DISNEY GIRLS LIKE YOU - The Evolution of Disney Ladies

17. Sara Bareilles - Breathe Again

18. "Something to Believe In" from the musical "Newsies"

19. Who I Am - Natasha Bedingfield

Ambient Music Playlist Below for Reading Year 6 Chapters. 10 ambient Harry Potter in order for me each of the ten chapters for year 7.

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The Rest of Year 7

Written and in the Quick Edit Process

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In the meantime, this is an adorable post by charliexmcsittinginatree: https://charliesmc.tumblr.com/post/188903833750/how-to-catch-a-seeker

at the

Burrow

She could feel the cold of the stone as she padded across it on bare feet.

“Where are your shoes?” Dora exclaimed as she emerged into the (Y/H) common room.

“What?”

“Charlie,” Dora gawked at her. “He said he was leaving for home an hour ago.”

(Y/N) gaped, sweeping so quickly past the decorations in their dormitory that she sent a floating present spinning in the air across the room. It looked as though some of her roommates that were staying at Hogwarts were already getting their dormitory into the Christmas mood.

She dashed out with her case barely closed and a pair of boots and coat pulled over her pajamas, sprinting for the great hall. She stumbled out into the opening hall a few moments later.

And there, standing with their trucks packed by their sides and their coats on, were five familiar figures with red hair.

The two taller ones, followed by the smaller three, turned towards her.

“(Y/N),” Charlie said smiling, “we were just going to send Fred and George to go get you. The twins grinned, and all of them seemed to catch her disheveled appearance. “You didn’t think we were going to leave without you, did you?”

(Y/N) grinned, feeling very foolish as she felt one of the bottoms of her pajama pants falling out of her snow boot.

“Of course not. This is how I like to travel,” she said with a wink. “Ready to go?”

She leaned down to tuck the corner of her pajama pants back into her boot. Charlie smiled and stepped forward to grab the handle of her trunk with his free hand.

“Just so you know,” he whispered, leaning towards her. “We wouldn’t have left without you.” A smiled grin graced his features and (Y/N) dimly heard Bill requesting them all to come on.

(Y/N) moved past Charlie and they walked to join the others.

“Good to see you, Bill,” (Y/N) smiled up at the familiar twin pair of hazel eyes.

Bill beamed at her; “ready for Christmas at the burrow?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer, catching Charlie’s smile out of the corner of her vision when she was interrupted.

“You better be ready,” Fred said.

“Good luck,” George sang.

“You’re gonna need it,” Fred countered.

Crystalline spheres of ice twinkled past, the light catching off them just right so that they sparkled in (Y/N)’s vision. Traveling by broom wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the middle of December with the first snow falling down. But she was grateful for the tiny muggle heater attached to the broom, shrunken and spelled by Mr. Weasley so that each of the kids would have a warm broom as they flew. She was more than thankful for this as she traveled in her cotton pajama pants and a fingerless pair of gloves. The warm broom beneath her seemed to warm her to her very core.

A shout came from her left and (Y/N) flicked her head around to see one of the twins, Fred or George—she couldn’t tell—picking up speed and racing past the rest of them. He was speeding towards a dark blob in the distance, long vertically, that (Y/N) could not make out through the hazy snow pelting past her face.

Another shout followed the first and the other twin followed behind the first. (Y/N) stayed back with the other three Weasley brothers, Percy on her right, Charlie on her left, and Bill behind them. The building slowly came into view as they came in and eventually, (Y/N) could make out doors and windows when they finally landed in the yard less than a hundred meters away.

Percy hopped off his broom, grabbing it with one hand as he raced after the twins, who had disappeared through the brown wooden door.

(Y/N) lightly slipped off, turning to meet Bill and Charlie as they got off their own brooms and fell into stride beside them. She blinked up as they approached the stone and wooden building, a twisted and lopsided collection of haphazardly stacked pieces that looked as they would have fallen much longer ago than the wood seemed old if not having been held up or put together by some kind of magic.

Bill and Charlie chatted beside her, one of them saying how excited they were for something that their mother was making. They stopped just long enough for Charlie to separate from them to open the plain wooden door.

Bill held out an arm, gesturing for her to enter first.

She did, stepping into the warmth, she hadn’t realized how cold she was from that short walk to the house. Her pants, she realized, were soaked, and the rest of her hadn’t faired much better. But all of it was immediately surrounded by warmth as she took a couple steps into the house, leaving just enough room for Charlie and Bill to enter in behind her. It was a haphazard room, the collection of household items put here and there in no obvious recognition of order. The colors were mostly of warm hues. (Y/N) caught sight of a set of knitting needles clicking away on their own above a cushioned sitting chair and a broom swept past in front of her.

“Where are your brothers?” she heard a woman’s voice call from one of the adjoining rooms, blocked from view.

Excited boys voices chattered and Bill and Charlie moved past her through one of the open doorways. She followed behind them cautiously.

And into a world of heavenly smells.

It was only then that she realized that some of the warmth she had been feeling was from the smells wafting through to the entrance.

Cinnamon. Ginger. Chocolate. Roasted chestnuts. Cranberries. Apples.

They all filled her system and (Y/N) unconsciously lifted her nose up to them as she entered the little kitchen. A woman, her round form partially obstructed by the twins currently hugging her, raised her arms out to the two new arrivals. Charlie, and then Bill, falling into her arms for a quick greeting embrace.

“Dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, one of her hands lingering on Bill’s head, “You’re hair has grown much too long. I need to cut it before tonight.”

Bill shook his head, saying nothing as he moved away, Mrs. Weasley’s vision now unobstructed from what lied beyond them.

“(Y/N)!” Mrs. Weasley beamed, lightly brushing off the twins to step forward and wrap (Y/N) in a similar embrace to her own children. “Oh dear,” she said, her face immediately dropping as she pulled away, “you look absolutely run out. Ron!”

Another ginger head popped through the door.

“Take (Y/N) and her trunk up to Ginny’s room. She needs to change before brunch. All of you do,” Mrs. Weasley said, spying the wet marks that her boys had left on her clothes. She shooed them out the door, causing all of them to hustle towards the stairs, (Y/N) following behind the small ten year old redhead. Charlie waved goodbye to her on one of the landings as Ron led her into a young girl’s room.

The girl in question, her fiery red haired wreathed around her pillow as she lay on her bed, her ankles clicking together in front of her, looked up from the book she had been reading to grin at (Y/N).

“Oh! You’re finally here,” she said jumping up. “Borrow anything you’d like,” she said, sprinting past the boy and (Y/N), out the door and stumbling up the steps outside. Ron gave (Y/N) a shrug before following after the fiery redhead girl.

(Y/N) looked around. A collection of posters lined the walls, mostly quidditch, but she spied a few other posters, including a Weird Sisters poster. The snow drifted outside the glass pane of the window, but the room was completely clothed in warmth, not too much, just enough to be cozy, but not overbearing. It was like a gentle hug in here, with good air flow. (Y/N) grabbed the trunk Ron had left by the door and swung it open, picking out the clothes she wanted to change into.

(Y/N) heard a sound like a griffin moaning as she descended the stairs. The sounds got louder all the way up until she entered the lovely smelling kitchen. Charlie sat in a tall chair, his mother clipping away at his ginger locks, and him making now smaller sounds of protest as they fell to the ground.

Apparently, being unable to get her hands on Bill, Mrs. Weasley had satisfied herself with chopping off Charlie’s shorter set of locks.

(Y/N) put a hand to her mouth, stifling her snort.

“Oh yeah,” Charlie hummed blinking his eyes to her, “laugh it up, find joy in my pain. Please. I don’t mind.”

A snort came out before she could stifle it as she heard Bill laughing beside her before she saw him.

Charlie rolled his eyes at them overdramatically and gave them a good humored pout.

“You gotta hold a stronger line, little brother,” Bill said, “or she’ll walk all over you and shear you every time you come home, leaving you with nothing left.”

“I’ll try that next time,” Charlie said with a good natured sigh as he stared at the ginger strands of hair littering the ground before him.

Holding her next chuckle in behind her hand, (Y/N)’s eyes flicked to the dining room table behind the set of Weasleys, where a small redheaded girl, Ginny presumably, was arguing with Ron about how lazy he was being. The boy in question was sitting in one of the dining room chairs as Ginny was setting the table for brunch.

As if drawn by some sort of spell, (Y/N) felt herself pulled across the kitchen on enchanted feet, stopping only once her tether had landed her at the edge of the rounded table.

There were sausage rolls, their edges just slightly golden brown to indicate their perfectly cooked temperature, still steaming with the warmth coming off of them and the spices beneath. There was pumpkin juice, Yorkshire pudding, and fresh strawberries. How Mrs. Weasley had managed to get fresh strawberries in the middle of winter, (Y/N) had no idea, but the smell coming off of all of it was intoxicating. Indeed, (Y/N) would never tell them, but she did not think even the House Elves could have created this meal. It was not the style of a perfectly professional feast, but a home-cooked meal cooked to a perfection professionals never would be able to reach when not in their own home.

Mrs. Weasley had finished creating her brunch meal and it looked like the delight of (Y/N)’s lifetime.

The cider already felt like it was warming (Y/N) to her core and she hadn’t even drunken any yet.

“Tuck in, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, finishing off her sheering of Charlie’s head from the kitchen area. “We don’t stand on ceremony for morning meals. Too many hungry stomachs and impatient mouths.”

Digging into the meal was like choosing her classes for N.E.W.T. She didn’t know where to go to first. Did she inhale a sausage roll, start with some strawberries, or stick her whole face into the syrup Mrs. Weasley was now bringing over for the Yorkshire pudding.

The others didn’t seem to have any hesitation. With reckless abandon, the Weasley siblings devoured the food before them as though it was something they got every day, and (Y/N) supposed, that between living at the Burrow and the House Elf supplied meals at Hogwarts, it was. It was only after brunch had rolled to an ending, the lot of them stuffed as though they were planning on becoming the Christmas turkey themselves, that (Y/N) felt like she was at home, waddling over to the sofa that Charlie sat on in the sitting room by the back door.

“Don’t get too comfortable boys,” Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen where she was already hard at work preparing the Christmas Eve dinner. (Y/N) glanced back to see a turkey levitating in the air and basting flinging around the room, guided by her wand. “I’ll need you to go pick out a tree and decorate it. Your father and I just simply haven’t had the time. He’s been working extra hours for the ministry.”

Charlie sighed from where he sat on the couch, his hands over his bulging belly.

“Alright, Mom,” Bill called from the sofa across from them. “We’ll head out in a few minutes.”

“And won’t you de-gnome the garden while you’re out there?”

Now it was Bill’s turn to groan.

“Mom! Can I join them?” Ginny called back.

“No, Ginny dear. I need you to decorate the inside of the house while they are de-gnoming and gathering the tree.”

Ginny folded her eyes with a sigh.

They all got there few minutes of rest, (Y/N) getting dangerously close to a nap after the food she had eaten, and the soft, plush couch she was sitting on; she started tilting to the side, sliding ever so slowly towards Charlie’s shoulder beside her, but they were all roused when Mr. Weasley came in, his voice booming.

“I heard you took the heated brooms,” he yelled, “how’d it go?”

“Heated brooms,” Mrs. Weasley said quizzically from the kitchen, “some sort of spell, Arthur?”

“Uh…yeah,” Mr. Weasley blushed as he crossed through the sitting room to the kitchen to greet his wife.

A moment later, he popped his head back out and caught (Y/N)’s eyes, “Oh, and good to see you with us this year, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) blushed as Mr. Weasley popped back out of view.

“Well, I think we better get moving before we all pass out in here,” Bill said, jumping to his feet. “Should we split up the work? Fred, George, Percy, and Ron can go de-gnome the garden while Charlie, (Y/N), and I go pick out a tree?

Ron groaned and Percy looked no more thrilled by the plan than he, but Fred and George were already out the door before anyone could say ‘treacle tart.’

(Y/N) grabbed her jacket, which someone had set on one of the hooks by the door, and pulled on her boots, also by the door. Charlie passed her a knitted wool scarf before they headed outside.

In the hours since they had been at the burrow, the snowflakes in the air and gathered on the ground, leaving a layer of white that they trudged through on their way across the field in front of them, to the small wood at the other end. The trees, lightly layered with snow, were hard to see their shape, but, eventually, Bill used a melting spell on them, the snow turning to water in a matter of seconds on a tree of his choice and sliding off to the ground where it froze back into snow again.

“What about that one?” (Y/N) shuffled away from the large tree the twins were looking at to a slightly crooked tree to their right.

Bill spoke a word, causing the snow to fall off the chosen tree with one sweep of his wand.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“I like it,” Charlie beamed at (Y/N), “let’s take it.”

“Alright,” Bill shrugged, aiming his wand at the tree, “diffindo.”

The trunk split with one clean swipe, the tree tilting and then thumping on the ground, free of its earthly bonds.

Charlie waved his hand to (Y/N), “would you like to do the honors.”

A small smile graced her lips, but she pointed her wand at the tree, sweeping it in an arc and then flicking it, “wingardium leviosa.”

The tree rose up a few feet into the air, hovering horizontally where (Y/N)’s wand guided it. Together, they made their way back to the burrow, their victorious tree collection coming along with them as they crossed back over the fields to the home on the other side.

A few hours later, the tree stood above them in the living room, the collection of ornaments hanging from it teetering softly. Fred and George had “found” an angel for the tree, the likes of which looked suspiciously like a frozen and golden-ed gnome with tied on wings, but (Y/N) didn’t ask any questions, preferring instead to admire the tree.

“Looks great, kids,” Mr. Weasley said, as he left the kitchen to come out into the living room, “but I think it’s missing something, don’t you?”

Percy grinned, and the expression was so unexpected on his face that (Y/N) had no idea what to do with it.

Mr. Weasley smiled as he pointed his wand at the tree, “coruscent lux,” he sang as he waved his wand through the air, the tip of it making great curved arcs as he flicked it before the tree.

And (Y/N) tried not to gawk as tiny sparkling orbs of light started to careen out of the end of his wand, floating to the tree, they settled amongst its branches until every inch seemed to have a glowing orb of light sitting there.

(Y/N) failed her attempt not to gawk and she gaped.

“Well, I suggest you kids go out and get a quidditch game going if you want to. I suspect this will be the only few hours you have free for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t think I want to play.”

“Come on, Perce,” Fred whined at him. “We have even numbers. If you don’t play, someone else will have to sit out.”

Percy sighed, but nodded, smiling slightly.

“That’s settled then,” Charlie said, pointing to the groups of people standing there, a collection of worn brooms in their hands. “Bill is terrible, but Fred and George are good so they’ll be on the same team. Percy we’ll be on my team to even things out, and we’ll take (Y/N) and Ginny. Ron can be on the first team.”

“Get ready, big brother,” Fred said, placing his hands together, “we’ve been training Ron as a keeper during the summers. I bet ten galleons he won’t let any one of your quaffles get past.”

“You can’t bet ten galleons when you don’t have two galleons to rub together,” Bill called back to them from where he had already traveled to halfway across the field they had chosen for the game.

(Y/N) grinned as they all followed him.

Fred and George, who she knew were already beaters on the Gryffindor team despite being only in their second year, were surprisingly adept at being chasers as well, and (Y/N), was actually having a hard time at keeping up with them. Despite being quick on a broom, some of her quidditch skills themselves were somewhat lacking and she found herself grateful that they had Charlie and Ginny on their team, picking up for the slack from herself and Percy.

Ron, it seemed, sometimes was pretty good at blocking a goal, and he managed to block everything she and Percy threw at him, even blocking some of Charlie’s shots. But he never, not once, blocked a shot from Ginny. Still, Ron laughed along with the rest of them when one of Charlie’s shots hit him in the face, giving him a bloody nose.

They took a break then, of course, retiring into the burrow after a couple hours of playing to let Mrs. Weasley repair his broken nose.

When Ron returned to the living room, his long nose back in the shape it was supposed to be in, it was to tell them all that Christmas Eve dinner was ready.

They all filed into the dining room, (Y/N) finding herself, once again, stuffing herself to complete fullness.

She woke slowly, first becoming aware of the gentle sunlight blinking through the window at her and then the warm sheets and blankets surrounding her in a cocoon of warmth. She stayed there for a while, just enjoying the burrito like feeling of safety in the warm bed.

Finally, after long moments of enjoying the cushioning bed, (Y/N) sat up, Ginny’s room smiling down at her.

She had complained about taking the other girl’s room for the time being, but Ginny had insisted and Mrs. Weasley had reminded her that Ginny was easily sharing a bed with Mrs. Weasley while Arthur slept on the couch. (Y/N) felt like it was her that should be sleeping on the sofa, but none of the Weasleys seemed to feel that way.

(Y/N) stretched her arms before scooting off the bed and to her feet, calling accio on her wand so that it flew into her hand. She tucked it into the pocket of her pajama pants before heading out the door and down the rickety stairs on bare feet.

She was not the first to arrive in the main room, the lights of the tree still somehow twinkling at her the day after they were made. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, a pair of ginger heads looked up and she grinned.

“Happy Christmas,” Charlie said, his grin equal to matching hers.

“Happy Christmas,” Bill echoed from where he sat on one of the sofas, with a cup of something hot that steamed.

“Happy Christmas,” (Y/N) couldn’t stop smiling as she made her way over to the sofa Charlie sat on.

“Didn’t realize I was the third one awake,” she said, curling her feet beneath her.

“Fifth,” Bill gestured to the back door. “Fred and George have been up for hours. I sent them outside to wear off some energy playing quidditch.”

“That’s not what they’re doing,” Charlie shifted from where he sat.

“Then what are they doing?” Bill countered.

Charlie shrugged, “all I’m saying is I’ve heard a couple small pops that sound like really tiny explosions.”

Bill looked worriedly at the door and then got to his feet. “I better check on them,” his voice attempting to be casual, but an energy of urgency there.

Charlie turned to (Y/N) as he swept out the door.

“Are you ready for a Weasley Christmas?”

“So ready.”

The chaos began a few minutes later, as first Ginny, then Mrs. Weasley reached the bottom of the stairs. Bill hauled in the twins a few minutes later, right when Percy and Mr. Weasley were coming down the stairs. Something exploded in Fred’s hand and it went shooting off, crashing into the side of Percy’s head. He went down and even after Mr. Weasley helped him up and got him settled on one of the couches, his hair stood sticking up, and (Y/N) could have sworn, was a little bit burnt on one side.

Then there was only Ron, who Fred and George volunteered to go wake up, but after the Percy debacle, Mrs. Weasley was looking at them with a suspicious gaze. In the end, it was Bill who went to collect Ron from his likely deep slumber.

(Y/N) moved to the floor to make room for Bill when he came back, sitting in front of Charlie, just in front of the sparkling tree.

For the first time, she paid attention to the Weasley’s presents, an assortment of strangely shaped packaging, there was a set of string on one that she swore kept moving. On another, the bow hovered less than inch off the present itself, and on yet another present, there was actually green mistletoe growing on it.

(Y/N) tilted away from the gift with the moving string and looked up as Mr. Weasley shot a ball of cider out of his wand.

Charlie caught it in his mouth and they all hurrahed. She could hear Mrs. Weasley sighing from the kitchen, but when she came out a few minutes later, Ginny with the remains of cider that had crashed on her face, she was smiling as she cleaned it up with a wave of her wand.

By that time Bill had hauled Ron down the stairs and they joined the rest of the crowd of Weasleys on the floors and sofas around the room.

Ginny, it seemed, was the resident present deliverer and got up to take presents from the tree and bring them to the recipient.

The first one, from Fred and George, actually exploded in Mr. Weasley’s face, but he was grinning as he reached in and pulled out a spark plug.

“Thank you, boys,” he clapped George on the shoulder from where he could reach him on the floor in front of him. “Best gift this year.”

But Ginny had already handed off two more presents and while Ron was wrestling off the moving string parcel, Mrs. Weasley was listening to the floating bow explaining her present from Percy to her.

Another explosion wracked the house and (Y/N) snapped her head away from Ginny, who was passing Fred a present, to Percy, his face covered in ash.

He didn’t look overly concerned, for Percy, that is, as his mom waved her wand from across the room, wiping it clean so he could reach into the gift box and pull out a tomb, at least a thousand pages wide. He was smiling by the time he thanked Fred and George. Both of which were hanging the bit of growing mistletoe from the wrapped present over the hanging of the back door with the intention of catching their parents under later, (Y/N) guessed by their suspicious expressions.

But (Y/N) was drawn away from their conversation for a moment when Ginny held out a parcel to her.

“…for…me?” her hand was out, but she took the present hesitatingly. Ginny nodded urging her to take it, and she did, drawing her hand back with the present in her grip.

Ginny was already moving back to the tree as (Y/N) ripped the paper slowly aside, revealing a medium sized box, it’s top cut off so that she was already admiring its contents.

She pulled the first object out and it curled up on her hand.

A glowing glass phoenix, its wings folding beneath it as it closed its eyes as if ready to go to sleep right in her palm, but he flicked an eye open just once to glance at her with a glowing stare.

She set him reverently on the floor in front of her and then reached in with another hand, pulling out a sweater that unwrapped itself, unfolding to the floor as she held it up. It had a letter on it, her initial and she set it gently beside the phoenix as she reached in once more and grabbed the last thing out of the box.

A pair of knitted lamb wool socks.

She stretched out of her legs to put them on her bare feet and when she looked up, Mrs. Weasley was watching her.

One of the tears on (Y/N)’s face dropped to the ground.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she said, her voice not at its best.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, “you came to spend Christmas with us, didn’t you?”

Two more of the tears pattered to the ground.

“Happy Christmas, (Y/N),” Mr. Weasley said from where he sat, his spark plug, a package of bertie bott’s every flavor beans, and a new pixie wool hat laid out on his lap.

“Happy Christmas,” she answered, as the rest of the Weasleys continued to dig into their array of assorted gifts.

It turned out ChristmascDay was very similar to Christmas Eve, while many of them spent some alone time for a few hours that day, some using their brand new presents, they all reconvened, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for a game of quidditch in the afternoon.

Charlie, Percy, Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Ron’s team won, to the surprise of everyone, considering Charlie was about the only decent quidditch player on that team, but Mr. Weasley, it seemed, wasn’t unskilled at maneuvering a broom and Ron was passably good even if Percy and Bill were terrible.

Some of them, due to some nasty falls, hadn’t gotten muddy, so when the game ended, Mrs. Weasley all shooed them inside to wash up. (Y/N) found herself mesmerized by the shower in the bathroom that Ginny, Percy, Bill, and Charlie all shared.

It had no head, instead, when one spoke a word to the wall, it just began raining, warm, fat, tropical raindrops that wiped her clean.

She pattered down the stairs that evening, feeling refreshed, her new pair of socks gracing her feet as it was too warm inside for the sweater. Bill and Mr. Weasley were playing a game of wizard’s chess as those who weren’t helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen waited for dinner, (Y/N)’s glass phoenix flitting around them.

When Mrs. Weasley called to them, (Y/N) was the first to come.

And heaven reached her eyes and nose.

Potatoes, that was the first thing she saw, directly followed by yams and all other kinds of side delights. A warm glass of butterbeer was graced next to every plate and to top it all off, a giant beef pot roast in the center of it all.

Her mouth was already watering.

It turned out that after the meal, the family spent their time in the family room together, playing games and listening to Celestina Warbeck on the enchanted radio in the corner. (Y/N) watched her phoenix lazily fly around the room. She almost fell asleep on that comfortable couch a few times and it seemed she wasn’t the only one crossing into the realm of sleep when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had to carefully carry up their two slumbering youngests to their beds.

(Y/N) got up from her couch then, crossing to the back door and pushed it open gently to let the cold air wake her up.

It reached her face almost immediately, a frosty air cooling her and causing her to open her eyes all the way. She could hear footsteps behind her and turned slightly to see Charlie in her peripheral vision.

They watched as the new snowfall fell gracefully to the ground, turning the world around the burrow white.

“Hey, you two,” Fred called from his place on the ground beside George, eating sweets on the floor. “Look up.”

(Y/N) glanced up, expecting a pack of snow to come sliding off from the house and land on her head, but it was just the bit of greenery and white berries, the mistletoe that had been growing on the present and that Fred and George had hung on the door hanging earlier this morning.

“Think there’s a bowtruckle living inside?” Charlie whispered and she laughed, finding that his returning laugh sent a spark of delight through her.

“May I have this kiss, (Y/N) (Y/LN),” he asked, his eyes warm, the eyes of a thunderbird.

“You may,” she whispered.

The Weasley siblings cheered them as their lips met, flecks of snow joining their kiss.

A Most Welcome

Invitation

The way down to the snowy pitch was blocked by a rather excited looking group of friends. (Y/N) smiled, but all thoughts of the others were washed from her mind when she saw a familiar figure dressed in scarlet and gold quidditch robes.

“Come on,” Charlie said, approaching her before the others could say hi, he nodded with his head to the left and (Y/N) followed him away from the pitch, the white snow crunching beneath her feet.

Pulling her in with his eyes, Charlie pulled something out of his robes, as soon as it left, it fluttered in the air before them.

“The snitch,” she gaped, smiling and trying to touch it lightly with a finger.

“Yeah,” Charlie grinned down at it. “I’m gonna catch it today. I’m going to catch it…for you.”

(Y/N) blinked, looking up at him.

In the white light from the sun shining on the snowflakes around them, his face was turned down to hers, his bangs wet, those pieces that were riddled with snowflakes falling just slightly out of his orange ponytail.

“And I’m going to be cheering for you.”

It was Charlie’s turn to blink at her then, his eyes hazy, leaning towards her.

“Come on!”

(Y/N) heard Wood’s voice dully in her head, but she looked around Charlie to see him yelling from the Gryffindor quidditch tent. Charlie stashed the snitch away.

“I better get back,” he whispered, smiling slightly.

“I’ll be watching,” she promised, watching as he left the snowy cold and ducked his head into the warm tent.

“Come on,” she felt a familiar tug on her arm, “we’ve got to go get seats.”

Brooms raced around the quidditch pitch, the snow having stopped to reveal a bright sun, blinding white, blazing into the eyes of the players as they darted back and forth across the stadium.

“Wood blocks another shot!” Murphy yelled into his mike.

(Y/N) heard the yell of the Gryffindors blazing through the stadium as she yelled too, joining in with them and the success of her little friends.

“It looks like Charlie Weasley has seen something!”

(Y/N) snapped her head around, finding the familiar form of scarlet, gold, and ginger hovering into the air a few hundred yards away.

“Is it the snitch? Is it—Blooming Gargoyles!” (Y/N) gasped with the rest of the crowd. “And Weasley nearly gets blown off his broom, but avoided it with some tricky flying work. He better not get distracted looking off towards the stands again,” Murphy roared into the microphone. “The Gryffindor seeker needs to keep his head in the game or he might get hit by a bludger.”

(Y/N) blushed. Had he been looking into the stands for her?

But her thoughts were swept up again as the Slytherin team caught the quaffle, giving her a mix of emotions as they darted off towards the Gryffindor end of the field, and young Oliver wood guarding the posts there.

And that’s when she saw it.

Charlie spun off, twisting in the air as he darted towards the opposite stands.

This time, he really had seen the snitch.

She screamed, her observation and her attention, sending out her roar of excitement before anyone else in the stadium had a chance too.

And Charlie heard her.

He twisted around, a smile on his face, and in that moment, the Slytherin seeker dashed ahead of him, catching the snitch.

“Slytherin Wins!”

The stands were dreary as most of the students descended the steps.

Not wanting to face any of her friends who were supporting Charlie, (Y/N) took the back way down to the grounds and towards the castle.

Seeing a group of bedecked figures in scarlet and gold near one of the side entrances to the castle, she ducked her head beneath her hood as she tried to slide past them, unnoticed.

But she wasn’t so fortunate.

“Well, if it isn’t (Y/N) (Y/LN).”

(Y/N) closed her eyes tight before blinking them open again as she turned toward the scarlet and gold figures.

One of the boys, seemingly the one who had spoken pointed an angry finger at her.

“You made our seeker lose the game.”

(Y/N) gaped at him. “No, I didn’t.”

The figure, his menacing form moving towards her, looked down at her with a craggy face.

“Quit distracting Charlie Weasley,” he said. “We need him to focus on quidditch. And if you don’t.” The boy patted his cloak where his wand sat poking out.

(Y/N) reached into her hoody, prepared to pull her wand out when one of the other boys yelled a curse.

She froze. And she had to listen to their laughs, frozen solid in the snow, as they moved out of sight, disappearing into the castle and into the warmth.

Charlie’s thunderbird eyes brightened as he moved towards her. Smiling slightly, he bumped her sweater-ed elbow with his own jacketed one.

“Hey you,” he said, shyly.

“Hey,” (Y/N) tried for a smile, but she knew the moment she did, that it came off as forced as it was. She could feel her teeth still aching to chatter.

Charlie ran around her, moving to get in her view and block her off from the path ahead.

“Hey,” he said, his voice serious, “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s up.”

“Nothin—” she started to say, but Charlie’s face looked so stern, his expression telling her that he was waiting for the true answer. “I ran into some Gryffindors after the match,” she said, her voice chittering out, “they were…distraught about Gryffindor losing the match and thought I had something to do with it.”

“Why would they think that?”

“Because they think you lost because I distracted you. They…” she trailed off, not sure if she should reveal everything that happened.

But Charlie’s eyes grew wide, understanding dawning on his face.

“They didn’t…did they hurt you?”

Their breath mingled in the air between them, and (Y/N) knew she couldn’t lie.

“They cast a freezing charm on me in the grounds. I was frozen outside for a couple hours before I finally thawed out.”

Charlie’s face turned red and he brushed past her.

(Y/N) spun around just in time to grab the edge of his sleeve.

“No, don’t, Charlie,” she said, pleading. “I don’t want you to do anything to them.”

Charlie snapped his head to her, his face furious. “They need to know that is not okay. Who did it?”

“No,” Charlie’s mouth fell open, “I’m not going to tell you,” (Y/N) said. “I need you right now, with me. We can always let Professor McGonagall know later. But right now, I need you.”

Charlie’s fierce face softened, and the tension in his arm as he tried to pull away from her, eased. She let go and Charlie moved back to her.

“Alright,” he said, noting her shivering. “You must be freezing though,” he gasped, pulling his jacket off quickly and then removing the sweater beneath it. He replaced his jacket almost immediately and then held the scarlet sweater out to her.

“No, Charlie.”

“You need it more than I. Come on, put it on quick. It’s really warm. My mum made it.”

(Y/N) complied, allowing Charlie to help her out of her jacket and then donning the warm sweater before replacing it.

“There,” he said, pulling off his second scarf to wrap around her. “All better?”

In reality, she was still a little cold, but she smiled at him, “I will be once we get to the three broomsticks,” she said.

Charlie grinned, “That, I think, I can help with.”

(Y/N) smiled as Charlie offered her his hand, and, hand in hand, they made their way down the walk with the rest of the students going to Hogsmeade. The light November snow dusted the ground and flakes began to fall again part of the way to the village, only to stop by the time they reached the wizard village and the door to the three broomsticks.

Charlie opened the door, letting her move into the warmth first, and then followed right after.

The door clanged shut behind them.

“(Y/N)! Charlie!” a voice yelled.

Charlie and (Y/N) joined Penny and their friends gratefully. (Y/N) removed her jacket, but kept the warm sweater Charlie had given her, even snuggling into its warmth and that familiar scent of Mrs. Weasley’s handmade soap. They all got an opportunity to laugh together about the painting Badeea drew of Snape’s encounter with a niffler in the potions room a few weeks before and they all were warmed up by Madam Rosmerta’s hot butterbeer.

“Only a few more weeks to Christmas,” Jae said, patting his empty glass against the wood.

“Hear, hear,” Dora cheered, then chugging the remains of her own butterbeer.

They stayed for a bit longer, but eventually groups of them departed back out into the cold, leaving only Charlie and (Y/N) at the table.

“You want to go to Honeydukes?” Charlie asked. “They keep it really warm in there.

(Y/N) smiled, nodding her head, “alright.”

They left the three broomsticks and made their way up the lane towards the sweet shop, again bedecked in their warmest jackets. Charlie leaned over at one point to wrap his second scarf more securely around (Y/N)’s neck so she wouldn’t have to remove her hands from the warm spots in her pockets.

“How did you make that bit of warm flame on the top of the astronomy tower?”

Charlie trudded next to her, his feet crunching on the light layering of snow.

“It was a spell Bill gave. I don’t know if I can make it move along with us though.”

(Y/N) nodded, cuddling her chin deeper into the scarf and sweater.

“You know,” Charlie said, hesitating. “I know your family isn’t going to be at home this Christmas and I was wondering…” (Y/N) turned to catch him blushing, “that is, my mom, well really I…we wanted to invite you to come to Christmas at the burrow.”

(Y/N) blinked the bits of snowflakes out of her eyes.

“At the burrow?”

“Yeah,” he said, brushing the ground with his feet. “That is only if you want to. I know you might want to stay at Hogwarts, but I thought I’d offer the invitation.”

“Are you kidding?” (Y/N) gaped at him, stopping in the snow. “I’d love to come.”

“Oh,” Charlie stopped beside her, grinning. “Well, alright then.”

He smiled, looking down at her, his brilliant eyes shining in the cloudy sunlight.

It was too tempting, and moving with awkward speed, (Y/N) tilted her head up towards him.

But she needn’t have worried. As usual, Charlie met her where she got to and they stood, pressed together in the snow for a few precious moments. When they broke apart, it appeared that, miraculously, nobody had noticed their little excursion and they were able to make their way peacefully to Honeydukes, where (Y/N) bought Charlie a thank you gift of his favorite sweets and he said thank you to her with another of his kisses.