en_charlie (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} en_charlie) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} enigma_rpg,@ 2009-02-17 09:12:00 |
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| Entry tags: | * complete, 2004-02, character: charlie weasley |
RP: Is this for real?
When: February 17, 2004
Who: Charlie Weasley
Where: Charlie's cottage
Private/Public: Private
Rating: pg-13
Summary: Charlie finally finds out
It was the first time Charlie ever resented working in the back of beyond with beasts that could keep you busy through the night without rest. He was exhausted when he finally stumbled into his cottage sometime after dawn.
To find several owls waiting impatiently to deliver messages to him.
He went ice cold and his first thought was something had happened to his parents, then his siblings (even Percy) then traveled to Gabi and that she'd been found but the news he got was something he never thought would happen. Yet all the messages had the same terrible words.
Alicia and Oliver were dead.
He thought that had all ended when Voldemort was defeated. He wouldn't lose more friends or family. This wasn't supposed to happen any more.
He sat numbly on the couch, staring at the empty fireplace for a long time before he summoned the bottle of scotch he kept for a variety of reasons. He stared at the bottle for a very long time, contemplating drinking it all.
The crash of the glass in the fireplace startled him as much as the harsh "Fuck!" that escaped his lips when he hurtled the still half-full bottle into the hearth. He wanted to rage and scream, find the monster that had killed his friends and tear him limb from limb, but all he could manage was a strangled sob as he slid off the couch onto the hard flagstones.
It wasn't supposed to happen any more. Not after Fred.
And he let it go. In all the time since his brother's death, Charlie never allowed himself to grieve properly, he was too busy trying to prop up the others in the family, be emotionally strong for them that he didn't know what else to do. But now two of Fred's friends were gone as well, two of his friends.
Charlie curled up into a ball of misery and let everything out.
To find several owls waiting impatiently to deliver messages to him.
He went ice cold and his first thought was something had happened to his parents, then his siblings (even Percy) then traveled to Gabi and that she'd been found but the news he got was something he never thought would happen. Yet all the messages had the same terrible words.
Alicia and Oliver were dead.
He thought that had all ended when Voldemort was defeated. He wouldn't lose more friends or family. This wasn't supposed to happen any more.
He sat numbly on the couch, staring at the empty fireplace for a long time before he summoned the bottle of scotch he kept for a variety of reasons. He stared at the bottle for a very long time, contemplating drinking it all.
The crash of the glass in the fireplace startled him as much as the harsh "Fuck!" that escaped his lips when he hurtled the still half-full bottle into the hearth. He wanted to rage and scream, find the monster that had killed his friends and tear him limb from limb, but all he could manage was a strangled sob as he slid off the couch onto the hard flagstones.
It wasn't supposed to happen any more. Not after Fred.
And he let it go. In all the time since his brother's death, Charlie never allowed himself to grieve properly, he was too busy trying to prop up the others in the family, be emotionally strong for them that he didn't know what else to do. But now two of Fred's friends were gone as well, two of his friends.
Charlie curled up into a ball of misery and let everything out.