Charlie Weasley

The music swelled softly in the background, filling the air with lilting melodies that wove through the chatter of guests and the faint rustle of the summer breeze. Charlie Weasley stood near one of the grand refreshment tables, his goblet of champagne forgotten in his hand as he surveyed the scene. His formal attire a rare sight for him felt stiff and awkward compared to his usual dragonhide jacket and worn boots. But he wasn’t about to miss Bill and Fleur’s wedding, no matter how much he hated dressing up. Merlin, what I'd give to take off this suit and slip my jacket back on, the things you do for family.

His sharp eyes caught sight of Ron again, hovering awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor. Charlie couldn’t help but grin. Ron’s gaze was locked onto Hermione, who was talking animatedly with Viktor Krum.

Oh, come on, Ron, Charlie thought, shaking his head. You’re a Gryffindor. Where’s the nerve? Bloody hell, if you stand there much longer, she’s going to think you’ve been hit with a Confundus charm.

With a mischievous grin, he made his way over, his boots thudding softly on the grass. He clapped a firm hand on Ron’s shoulder, causing his younger brother to jump nearly a foot in the air.

“Blimey, Charlie! Give a bloke some warning!” Ron hissed, glaring at him. His ears were already beginning to turn red.

“Relax,” Charlie said, his grin widening. “I’m not here to hex you. But Merlin’s beard, Ron, are you going to stand here gawking at Hermione all night or actually do something about it?”

Ron groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Don’t start.”

Charlie arched a fiery red brow, crossing his arms. “Oh, I’m starting. You’re letting Krum waltz in there again? Thought you’d have learned your lesson by now. Or is this a rerun of the Yule Ball?”

“She’s not-” Ron started, then cut himself off, his face flushing even more. “It’s not like that.”

Charlie snorted. Not like that, my arse. “Sure, it’s not. That’s why you’re staring at her like she’s the Snitch in the last Quidditch match of your life.”

Ron shot him a glare, muttering something under his breath. But Charlie wasn’t done.

“Listen,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. Take it from me, it’s better to take the leap, even if you end up flat on your arse.”

Ron hesitated, glancing back at Hermione, then muttered, “Yeah, well, easier said than done.”

Charlie opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly, everything else faded. His breath hitched, and the words died on his tongue as he saw her.

She was standing by one of the tables, laughing at something Gabrielle had said. The sound of her laughter bright, lilting, genuine floated across the garden, and for a moment, it was all Charlie could hear. The soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated her figure, her dress flowing elegantly around her, but it wasn’t just her appearance that captured him. It was her presence, the way she seemed to light up the space around her.

Merlin’s bloody beard... Who is she? One of Fleur’s friends? Someone from the Ministry? No she doesn’t look like she spends her days cooped up in an office. Maybe a Curse-Breaker like Bill? His hand, still resting on Ron’s shoulder, tightened involuntarily. It was as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stand there, utterly transfixed. Dragons could start circling the garden right now, and I wouldn’t notice. Sweet Circe, she’s stunning. No, more than that. It’s like she’s the center of gravity, and I’m just spinning around her like some lovesick idiot.

Ron winced, wrenching himself free. “Oi! Charlie, what the hell-” He trailed off as he followed his brother’s gaze. A slow smirk spread across his face. “Oh. Ohhh.”

Charlie didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His brain was too busy trying to comprehend the sheer force of whatever spell she had just unwittingly cast on him.

Ron snorted, crossing his arms. “You’re hopeless. You look like a first-year seeing magic for the first time.”

Charlie blinked, finally tearing his gaze away to glare at Ron. “Shut it.”

“No, really,” Ron said, grinning now. “You’ve got that ‘hit-by-a-bludger’ look. You gonna do something, or just stand here staring like a troll?”

Charlie huffed, straightening his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “Sure you don’t. You’ve been gaping at her for a solid minute, Charlie. Even I’m not that bad.”

Has it really been that long? What am I doing just standing here? She probably thinks I’m some kind of idiot. But... look at her. She’s radiant. Like firelight on a cold night. Get a grip, Charlie. You’re not a kid anymore. You’ve faced dragons. You can handle this.

Ron nudged him with his elbow, smirking. “Tell you what... I’ll go ask Hermione for a dance if you go over there and talk to her. Deal?”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You’re bluffing.”

“Try me,” Ron said, his tone smug. “Go on, Charlie Bear. Show me how it’s done.”

Charlie winced at the childhood nickname but couldn’t back down now, not with Ron looking at him like that all challenging. He let out a slow breath, adjusting his suit jacket. Right. Just walk over there. What’s the worst that could happen? She laughs at you? Sends you packing? Well, better that than standing here like a bloody fool. “Fine,” he said, his voice steady despite the way his heart was pounding. “Deal.”

Ron clapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit. Go get ’em, champ.”

Charlie shot him a final glare before turning toward her, his feet moving almost on their own. As he approached, the rest of the world seemed to blur into the background. The music, the chatter, the flickering lights none of it mattered. All he could focus on was her. When she turned and her gaze met his, he felt like he’d been hit with a stunning spell. How is it even possible to look like that and seem so... natural? She’s not putting on airs, not showing off, just... existing, and somehow that’s enough to make my knees go weak. Pull it together, Charlie.

“Evening,” he said, his voice a touch rougher than usual. “Mind if I join you?”

Her smile was warm, Charlie felt something inside him shift. He hadn’t felt this way in years like the ground beneath him wasn’t quite steady but in the best possible way. Right. This is it. No dragons, no family teasing, no excuses. Just you and her. Don’t let this one slip through your fingers, Weasley. Whatever happens next, you’ve got to see where this goes.