WHO: Snow White, Charlie Weasley WHEN: Right after AU!Charlie got out of quarantine WHERE: Wolf Manor WHAT: Charlie shows up at Wolf Manor and Snow and him talk.
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Charlie had slipped from the burrow out the back door without any announcement of his departure. The Burrow, at least in Tumbleweed, had always been a spot of contention for Charles. In the initial period of their arrival, he'd found it to be lifeless and a reminder of those he ached to see once again. The Burrow was nothing but a structure without his family and he'd hated living in it. This had been why it'd been so easy to convince him to vacate it and move into Wolf Manor, even though he and Snow hadn't known one another terribly well when the offer had been given. And then, when the Manor disappeared with Snow in tow, the Burrow felt cruel. Not only was it lifeless but now he had to rely upon it because the place he'd actually wanted to be, with the person he'd wanted to be with, was gone. It had been difficult to get comfortable there but he'd done his best.
It got easier when others began to return but they'd initially just been visitors. Bill had arrived, and so had Fleur, but they'd had their own place of residency. And when Fleur disappeared, and Bill came home, Charlie couldn't be happy about his brother's return. He felt a deep sadness for Bill in knowing that Bill didn't want to be there anymore than Charlie had. They were there out of necessity and, for Charlie, it was tainting his childhood home. George came next and from him on it just felt like one after another, the rooms filling.
Charlie was getting what he'd wanted in those initial months. He was getting a Burrow that was alive and filled with commotion as it always had been. And he hated it.
The feeling of suffocation wasn't the Burrow's fault. He'd always had difficult with the large amount of people in the house. He'd fled to the outdoors as early as he could remember and he had to be dragged back inside, kicking and screaming. Romania had been an escape. He had been in control of his own environment. He could be around people as much as he pleased or as little. That was not the case here. He didn't know what to do.
He did know, however, that he didn't want to be around the Burrow when his alternate self showed up. He didn't actually know if the other Charlie was intending to come to the Burrow or not but in his mind, it only made sense that he would. And Charlie didn't want to be around for that. He didn't want to be around the Burrow much at all. He made up his mind that he was going to just go out for another night. Maybe two. He was getting quite cozy in his tent on the acres purchased by himself, Bill and Rocket.
Only, he didn't head that direction. He'd been lost in his head, caught up in all sorts of thoughts, and he'd just let himself walk. It was only as he approached the familiar house that he'd realized what he'd done. He looked up at the Manor from his position across the path and took in a breath. Clearly, he wanted to be here, even if he hadn't fully realized it. He didn't really know what he was going to say or do, as he was showing up unannounced, but the idea of leaving without even seeing her felt wrong.
He approached the door and gave a quiet knock. It was only after he knocked that he thought to look at the time. He dug out the pocket watch he'd been given when he came of age, eyes fixed on it, and frowned.
It was far too late to be making a social call. The color drained from his face and he expressed a look of guilt.
It hadn't been difficult to put herself back into Work Mode. It was what she did best for hundreds of years, after all, and her brain was already wired for it. Slipping back in, only needing very few people, it was routine. But sometimes she wished for Jo and Bobby and most of all Charlie filling the rooms of her house. Even if it was back during the time when he was just a friend. She missed that most of all. Now he had a houseful of family. It was what he'd wanted for so long; she couldn't be unhappy for him.
The kids had gone to bed hours ago. She had a busy day of tidying up the last of her documents, election day was fast approaching. Between that and juggling five children, Snow White needed a glass of wine and a break at the end of the day. The quiet knock simultaneously startled her and annoyed her.
Without setting her glass down, she hopped from the couch and hurried to the door to keep a second knock from happening. Those kids of hers had wolf ears; they'd hear a second knock, especially if it got louder. There were very few people it could be, but Snow was jumping to no conclusions.
Opening the door, she realized she was torn between two emotions again. Gratefulness to see him and curiosity. What had happened to bring him here in the middle of the night? The frown on her face wasn't unkind. "Wh — Charlie, are you all right?"
"I'm sorry," was the first words out of his mouth as he lifted his eyes from the clock face to meet her gaze. It wasn't as though he'd forgotten the children were here. How could he forget that? When it'd been one of the things he'd hoped beyond measure would happen for Snow? But he had been in almost a daze, with the path being trekked by memory, and he'd not thought when he'd knocked.
His had shifted the pocket watch into his pocket and he stood up straighter. "It's late. I wasn't thinking. I can go."
Snow frowned. Apologies ultimately were useless. They didn't change anything, and she wasn't sure she wanted this one to change. He'd shown up here in the middle of the night for a reason. She opened the door further, standing just out of the way, and said, "Don't be stupid. Come in, and tell me what's happened."
He watched as the door opened wider and felt a tug inside of him of intense longing, the same that had been there when he'd visited to help with the campaign. He swallowed before nodding his head. He was being stupid. She was right. And with that, he stepped over the threshold, and moved into the hallway.
He didn't go far and instead stopped a few feet from her, pushing his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the wall of the hallway. He didn't know where to start.
"I needed to get out of my house," he began. It seemed like the simplest place to start.
"You went from nobody to everyone all at once. It can be … overwhelming." Her memories of this house didn't have the children involved, and it seemed unnatural at times for them to run around. Of course, she was grateful they were here. She needed the time consumed and the perks that came with motherhood: random hugs, talking, and cleaning up their messes.
School, however, was a mess. None of the children were very good at hiding their powers.
"Mhm," escaped from him with a soft nod of his head. Snow understood. Snow usually understood. It didn't even touch the other issues that were piling up. The root issue was the suffocation just from the sheer amount of people. Tonks' prying and mood added to it. And his own thoughts were making it worse, too. It was to the point where being out, anywhere, was preferable because it gave an escape.
But he chose here.
And the truth was that he wanted to see her, even if he didn't necessarily say. "Did I interrupt anything?" He asked, looking to her.
"Nothing important." She'd just been relaxing — for once — when the knock came, and while she'd been annoyed initially, all of that was gone.
Snow put a hand on his shoulder to lead from from the wall of the front door to the living room. She didn't wait for him to give in, instead, urging him because she knew that he'd drag his feet, thinking that he'd interrupted or shown up too late. The fact was: whatever else they were, they were friends first and foremost. That's why their relationship had worked to begin with; it had a good strong foundation.
His eyes shifted to her hand upon his shoulder and he gave the smallest smile before glancing back up to her. He allowed for her to guide him away from the entrance. Once they reached the living room, he shifted, swinging an arm around her torso to give her a half hug. He didn't care to initiate more.
He took a seat on the closest couch, leaving space for her if she wanted to sit next to him. He wasn't sure. "I'll head off to my camp site soon," he then said, "but I wanted to visit with you. I've been wanting to for awhile."
Snow felt the sting of disappointment when he moved away, but she was well-practiced at not letting it show. No one in hundreds of years had notice how deeply unhappy she was. At least, that's what she thought until Bigby told her what he knew about her. Maybe unhappiness had a scent, like roses or horses or shit.
She didn't sit down next to him. Not yet anyway. "I've been here for a while. I thought you were avoiding me."
He gave a nod of his head. He could understand that reading of the situation. While he'd made himself available to her for all the campaign needs, he'd put some distance after they'd tried to give one another closure. It had felt like the right thing to do. He'd not wanted to cause her any unnecessary pain and had been afraid that coming around too soon would do so. "I didn't mean to let that much time go by," he explained, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck.
"I had thought I'd stay away for a little while but then..." he frowned. "...Things just kept happening."
Gremlins. Arguments. His Mother. His other self.
"Charlie, why are you going to a camp site instead of staying in the Burrow with your family?" It was blunt, but then again, that was one of her better qualities. It made no sense dilly-dallying with the bullshit that was politeness when it means wasting time and potentially not getting the right point across. "I thought you wanted them back with you?"
"The other me is out today." That was his reason for camping tonight, at least. He realized his statement about staying away could be applied to the Burrow, but it'd been about Snow, too. He nodded his head in agreement. "I do want them here," he agreed.
"Are you worried they'll replace you with this other version of you?" She tilted her head, resisting the urge to scoot closer. Snow knew that she wasn't the sweet, kind version of Snow White (or Mary Margaret) that most people came to know and love. She was bristley and hard to get to along with. "Or something else?"
"No," he replied far too quickly, which didn't give much of authenticity to the answer. "I just don't want to see him yet," he added. He didn't think his family would replace him with his other self; but he did take notice that Tonks already was seeming to get along better with him than she did himself. He hated how much they were fighting.
Snow tried not to roll her eyes. Sometimes he behaved like Rose did, and she could see why they got along. Aside from the whole preserving the dragon thing back in Mount Weather. That was just a convenient excuse. "Why?"
There was a lot of reasons why and many of them he knew she didn't have a clue about. He was exhausted. It'd been like a boulder rolling down a hill and picking up speed. If he'd been back home, in the Romania of his world, he'd have retreated from people by this point and spent weeks decompressing in the wilderness with only dragons or a select handful of keepers for company. He'd have worked through all of the aggression and aggravation by building something or keeping his hands busy. It was what he had always done. He'd retreat and come back once he felt recharged.
If his other self had arrived at any other point, when things hadn't been building up as they had been as of late, he'd have been frustrated but it would have felt manageable.
"He's the one thing I can put off to the side."
"You can't put anything else off to the side?" Indulging family was something Snow rarely did. She didn't coddle. (Unless she was coddling her children, and even then there was only so much of that she'd do.) "Deal with things one by one?"
"Trying to." He'd focused solely on the Gremlin's issue when it had been occurring and once it had been finished, he'd moved onto admitting the truth about what he and Emmeline had suspected would happen. He'd planned to speak to Snow after that, a whole lot sooner. But Tonks' got in the way of that. And ever since, he'd been a bit off on his approach, and family kept coming. "Been trying to clear my head and focus. Burrow's overwhelming."
"Wolf Manor's got five children wandering around, Charlie. It's not less overwhelming here than it would be there." She'd already decided that she was going to offer him his old room here. It had been Darien's, and Darien wouldn't need it. Right now it was just a hollow, empty space where one of her babies used to sleep. It might even help the cubs comes to terms with their loss. "You're used to coming home to the Burrow on your own terms. When you want, when you can prepare yourself, and now you can't escape unless you go camping."
She drew in a breath. "But your old room is still open, you know. You don't have to sleep out in the desert cold."
"That's a different kind of overwhelming," he remarked. Kids were an entirely different circumstance as far as Charlie was concerned. He didn't ever intend to have any of his own but he looked forward to the day when his siblings had theirs. And while he'd come to view the Manor as home all those months back, even he could see that it was meant to be this way. Filled with a family who could run circles around their Mother. 'Course, it hadn't quite dawned on him what she was implying yet. He shrugged his shoulders in response to her statement. All of her points were exactly how he felt but camping was his one solution. "Never minded camping," he said, as if to shrug the issue off.
But then she spoke again and his gaze shifted back to her. He didn't know what to say.
"I..." he began, it hanging in the air as he tried to figure out what he actually wanted to say. He knew Snow wasn't going to offer out of any obligation and he knew he hadn't sounded like he'd come asking for charity. He closed his mouth and gave it another passing thought. "...Really want to come back."
He sighed heavily though. "I don't know how they'll take it though. Can I...think on it?"
"Take your time, but let me know when you decide. I'll have to talk to the children if you decide to." They would understand. Hell, they'd probably welcome it. Anything new and exciting, especially someone who worked with dragons was welcome around the house. Snow tried not to imagine how different the children would be with Charlie Weasley in their lives.
She reached out though and gave his hand a squeeze. "You're always welcome here, Charlie."
"Of course," he said with a nod. He expected as much. In his limited experience, children didn't care for being excluded from conversations. They liked to be includes. And there was a lot to think about in relation to the children as well as Bigby.
He turned his hand up so he could hold hers and gave it a squeeze in return. "Thank you, Snow."