Charlie Weasley

The warm glow of lanterns flickering off the well-worn surfaces of Grimmauld Place’s kitchen. Charlie sat slouched in a creaky wooden chair, his leather dragonhide jacket slung over the back, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. The liquid burned his throat in a way he welcomed after a long week at the reserve. Across from him, Sirius sat back, boots kicked up on the table in that effortlessly roguish way of his, a smirk dancing on his lips as he spun a tale about some misadventure in his youth.

"...and, of course, James and I had to run like hell before McGonagall caught us, but you should’ve seen the look on her face when the fireworks went off in the middle of the Great Hall. Priceless," Sirius finished, tipping his glass in a toast to their shared laughter.

Charlie laughed, the deep, gravelly sound echoing in the room. He leaned forward, shaking his head. "You’re mad, Sirius. Absolutely mad. I don’t know how you managed to survive Hogwarts with all your limbs intact."

Sirius shrugged, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Who’s to say I didn’t leave a piece or two behind?" He took a sip of his firewhiskey, a sly grin spreading across his face. "But enough about me, Weasley. You’ve got that look, like you’re itching to tell me about some dragon that nearly took your arm off last week."

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. "Not this time. I think I’ve had enough near misses to last me a lifetime, thanks."

Their banter was cut short by Remus and Tonks also seated at the kitchen table, their heads close as they murmured about something or someone. Remus’s calm, measured tone contrasted with Tonks’s animated gestures, her hair shifting from a bright bubblegum pink to a deeper magenta as she spoke.

"...told you, Remus. She’s hell in a pair of tall heels," Tonks said with a laugh, nudging his arm. "You should’ve seen her during training. She doesn’t take any nonsense from anyone, not even Moody."

Remus hummed thoughtfully, his gaze softening. "I did get that impression when I met her at the Ministry. She’s... impressive, to say the least."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, glancing between them. Who’s this, then? Someone new? He tilted his glass, taking another slow sip as he listened in. Sirius, however, leaned forward with an eager grin.

"Talking about our newest recruit, are we? The mystery woman of the hour." Sirius waggled his eyebrows at Charlie, his grin widening. "Bet she’ll be a sight to see."

Charlie snorted, but before he could respond, the door to the kitchen creaked open. Arthur his father, Kingsley, and Moody walked in, the air shifting with their arrival. Kingsley’s calm, commanding presence balanced the storm that was Alastor Moody, who was already mid-rant as he entered.

"I don’t care how good you think you are, girl. You don’t pull stunts like that in the field," Moody barked, his magical eye spinning wildly as he glared over his shoulder. "One wrong move, and you could’ve taken half the bloody building down!"

Charlie’s laughter died in his throat. His eyes flicked to the doorway and there she was. Merlin’s beard.

The glass in his hand froze mid-air as his breath caught. His lips parted slightly, and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to blur. His focus tunneled in on her the way she moved, the way her presence seemed to command the space without even trying. She’s... beautiful. Too beautiful. He blinked, struggling to pull his thoughts together. How is someone like that even real? His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his throat suddenly dry despite the firewhiskey.

Beside him, Sirius let out a low whistle, cutting through the stunned silence. "Well, now, would you look at that," he drawled, his grin wicked as he elbowed Charlie in the ribs. "Careful, mate. You’re drooling."

Charlie snapped his mouth shut, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He shot Sirius a glare, but it lacked any real venom. "Shut it," he muttered, his voice lower than usual. Pull it together, Weasley. She’s just a person like anyone else. Just... ridiculously perfect.

Sirius, however, wasn’t done. "No, really," he continued, leaning back in his chair with a knowing smirk. "I think Moody’s ranting fell on deaf ears. She’s got a look that could stop traffic and apparently dragon tamers, too."

Charlie groaned, dragging a hand through his fiery red hair. "You’re impossible," he muttered, though his gaze couldn’t help but drift back to her. Moody was still talking, his gruff voice a sharp contrast to the steady, calm way she stood there, taking it all in without so much as a flinch.

"Are you even listening to me?" Moody barked, his magical eye swiveling to her as he pointed a gnarled finger.

Charlie’s lips twitched at the way she responded, though he quickly looked away before anyone noticed. She’s got guts. Definitely not the type to let Moody intimidate her. There was something magnetic about her, something that made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t quite understand.

Kingsley stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through Moody’s tirade. "Alastor, I think that’s enough for now. She’s here, isn’t she? That counts for something."

"Counts for more than you know," Sirius murmured under his breath, earning another glare from Charlie.

Arthur, ever the peacemaker, clapped a hand on Moody’s shoulder. "Let’s all take a moment to settle down. We’ve got enough to worry about without tearing into each other."

Charlie leaned back in his chair, his fingers absently tracing the edge of his glass. What the hell’s wrong with me? She’s just a new recruit. No different than anyone else in the Order. But even as he thought it, his eyes betrayed him, flicking back to her once more.

Sirius, catching the movement, smirked knowingly. "You’re hopeless, Weasley," he said, his tone light but teasing.

Charlie shook his head, a low laugh escaping him. "Maybe," he muttered under his breath, unable to tear his gaze away for long. But Merlin help me, I’ve never seen anyone like her.