Charle managed to catch the dragon, his arms only mobile from the elbows down (thanks to his shoulders being immobilized as a part of the hovering spell). He turned it so that it faced him, breathing its fire, and Charlie stared at it in both horror and total fascination. "I have no clue what this breed is supposed to be," he sniffed, turning it around between his hands. "I mean, did they even think to consult a dragon expert? What is the deal with its tail?"
Tearing himself away from the dragon, Charlie's face flickered in confusion. Hallucinations? He covered it well, though, tilting his head in a kind of shrug. Really, he just wanted to grab her in a hug and not let go for an hour, but all of the Weasleys had their default means of coping through humor. Their mum was the one to get emotional for them. Who was going to hug them now?
"I figured I was so bloody impressive and skilled at the Hogwarts battle, it was important for me to, oh, what's the Muggle phrase? 'Keep it real'?" Charlie nodded. "I am a real keeper."