Charlie Weasley (![]() ![]() @ 2011-01-01 14:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: charlie weasley, character: tracey davis, complete, january 2000, place: the leaky cauldron |
RP: Hair of the crup
Who: Charlie Weasley, Tracey Davis, open
When: Midafternoon, 1 Jan 2000
Where: The Leaky, Diagon Alley
Summary: Libations after libations. Who decided the proper way to ring in the new year was whilst blind drunk? Tracey and Charlie are kindred spirits, as they learn in the pub while recovering from New Years.
Rating: PG13 for now, most likely language
Status: Complete- unless someone should wander in while Charlie is finishing up.
Charlie Weasley opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, grinning when the odd but familiar combination of cinnamon and one-hundred proof alcohol greeted his nostrils. It was the first day of the new millenium, but he didn't feel very different- hungover and tired- but not different. He had been home for a month now, staying in his old room at the Burrow while he sorted out employment and residence and all that adult stuff that he hadn't had to worry about for years, or, well, ever, considering he was swept away from Hogwarts to the self-contained dragon reserve where it was all taken care of for him provided he did his work.
He missed his work, but he knew that it had been time to move on, and he needed his family (and they needed him, really). But Merlin, was it tiring.
Sitting in a barstool in the middle of the bar, Charlie hailed the barkeep. Holidays at the Burrow were always a production, but it was a production he could handle in small doses. Now he'd been there for a month amongst the biggest holidays of the year, and after living in his own space around coworkers for years, it was an adjustment. Mum waking him with tea at the "perfectly reasonable" hour of eight am, people in and out all day long, poking around his room, asking questions, paying him ten years worth of attention- he loved them all, but sometimes the only way to get a bit of quiet was at the pub.
And also, a steaming mug of firewhiskey was really his favorite way to stave off particularly stubborn hangovers. And it looked like he wasn't alone: there were several other tired or harassed looking witches and wizards about the bar, quietly nursing their own drinks. Oh, the holidays.
The barkeep found his way over, eventually, but he had been talking to a pretty little thing so Charlie didn't blame him. "Firewhiskey, double," he said, grinning when the barkeep nodded knowingly. Now he'd relax, just one or two drinks...