WHO: Harry Potter and Charlie Weasley the second WHEN: While Charlie was in quarantine, the first day, probably around the time he went with the fam to visit Molly? WHERE: Quarantine WHAT: Harry brings Charlie a drink and tries to explain how things are different. WARNINGS: Talk of death and consumption of alcohol. STATUS: Complete.
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Harry “borrowed” a six pack of beer from the Burrow’s fridge. He’d replace it in time. He only had wizarding money on him and wasn’t able to buy anything. Maybe once he got a job, he’d fill their fridge. After all they’d done for him, he would gladly spoil them on whatever pay he got.
He walked to the quarantine station, past the military guards with a nod. He wasn’t sure what to say to this Charlie. He himself had only gotten here recently and had been surprised with … children, grandchildren, and a hoard of Weasleys. Molly had just arrived as well, but she didn’t remember him. It was bittersweet. It was nice to see her, but she was different.
This new Charlie seemed to have a different story. Harry thought he was a good person to explain things to him, as he wasn’t family and he was a neutral person in the situation. As neutral as you could get while still being a wizard.
He walked up to the glass and pulled two bottles from the cardboard container. Harry slipped them into the drawer and pushed it forward for Charlie to accept them. “Hullo, Charlie. I’m Harry. Have a beer, and probably sit down for this.”
When he woke up this morning, Charlie had been in a strop, for lack of a better way to phrase it. For all he played happy-go-lucky for nearly everyone, including in the networked journals, he had too many different things playing for his attention. There was the offer from Puddlemere to be their reserve Seeker, which normally he wouldn't even consider, but reserve Seeker for Puddlemere very well might get him more wins than chief seeker for the Cannons, something he didn't much like to think about. There was the fact that dark marks had been seen, possibly Death Eater activity again, and his Uncle hadn't bothered to talk to him about it. And on top of not bothering to talk to him about it Gideon had pretty much just reminded Charlie that the lot of them were an irritation to him, and so Charlie had been on his way to take George and Fred to see Bill to get them out of the country so Gideon could do his real work.
(That this might not be a fair encapsulation of what Gideon's intentions were, didn't really occur to Charlie, even if Fabian had attempted to smooth things over between them.)
And all of that now felt as if it were several more days away than just this morning. There'd been a portkey, and then a portal, and then a lot of people wanting to draw blood and run tests, and here he was now in what felt like a posh hotel room - waiting to speak to Harry bloody Potter, who had been killed by Voldemort in Charlie's world, and yet, was somehow apparently about the same age as Charlie here. More or less.
Charlie looked up, and offered a quick smile to Harry. He looked a bit like James, not that it had been super recently that Charlie had seen James Potter. They didn't really run in the same circles at all, but Charlie had seen him at Alice Longbottom's funeral, and there was definitely a resemblance there. The smile didn't entirely reach his eyes though, as he had a headache and was feeling decidedly off-balance about the situation he found himself in.
"Thanks mate," he reached in for the beer bottles, and the smile broadened a bit, slightly more genuine. He pulled the cap off and took a swig, and then pulled a chair across so he could come sit face with the other man - even if the other man was on the other side of the window. "Good to meet you in person, sort of."
Harry himself was having a nice time before he came here. Going back and forth with Ginny wasn’t much fun, but he knew they’d make it to each other eventually. He was working beside Ron to become Aurors. Hermione went back to school and was rising up the ranks in the Ministry, working in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. All was well.
Then he was here, and his whole life was different. His parents were alive, Tonks and Remus were alive (no sign of Teddy, sadly), Sirius was alive (!!), so much good stuff to happen. He missed the people that weren’t there-- and now there was this. Two of one person.
Harry was never that close to Charlie, they saw each other on holidays and whenever they went to visit him and the dragons. This new Charlie needed to be told just what the bloody hell was going on. Harry waved his wand and a chair from the corner of the corridor came sliding down and stopped just below his rear. He was slow about opening the bottle of beer and settling. He wasn’t sure how he’d do this.
“So… Where I come from…” Harry knew there were books-- he wouldn’t tell Charlie that yet. But the books described the events as he lived them. But to call his universe the “right” one would be ever so rude. “Where I come from,” he started again, “Voldemort killed my father. Then when it came to my mother, the spell bounced off of us because of her love for me. It put Voldemort into a weakened state.” Harry decided that the whole Last Horcrux thing could wait for another time. “He came back when I was 15, and was strong enough to fight again when I was 17. I defeated him, with the help of Ron and Hermione. Couldn’t have done it without your brother and her…”
If Charlie didn’t know Ginny, would he know Ron? “Ron’s your brother, same age as me. Born in 1980.”
Charlie was quickly gathering that things were different, and he'd gone from talking, to pretty quickly shutting up and not saying so much when Harry had introduced himself. After all, how did you tell someone - 'yeah, you died'. His Uncle might get on him for being crass or thoughtless, but he wasn't that crass, or that thoughtless either. But it was filling in a few things, wasn't it?
He turned the bottle in his hands, and then took another swig, actually letting the taste of it settle a little. Probably it was too early in the morning to drink and probably he didn't care much.
"Yeah, so it's a pretty different world I guess."
Vastly different, apparently. Huge galaxies of different.
He frowned, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he looked at Harry and tried to decide what to say. He supposed he could start with the brother he hadn't known. Ron. "I guess that's why John was able to pinpoint the date so easily." He'd wondered, but with Fred and George born in '78, and Ron in '80, well, it made sense. "Death Eaters attacked the house in '79. The five of us were staying at Uncle Gideon's and Uncle Fabian's, but they got Mum and Dad." Did he say anything about Harry? He wasn't sure, so for the moment he decided to sit on that one. "So it's just Ron and Ginny then?"
“That you’re missing? Yeh.” Harry wasn’t much for drinking, especially in the afternoon, but this was a special occasion. He took a small sip, enough to wet his mouth and continued, “And here, there’s… Ginny, Bill,” he looked down at his hands, “Charlie,” felt weird. “George and now you. Oh-- and your mum, but she’s younger. She’s from around the time Ginny was born. ‘81.” Harry wished Ginny was there to see he remembered her birthday.
“I didn’t see you that often, you were in Romania looking after dragons. Though you did show up for the second Wizarding War at Hogwarts. Reinforcements.” Harry sighed. “Sorry if this is weird, mate. This place has us from all different timelines.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “My kid is here.”
He looked back up at Charlie and then went to wipe his glasses, “How’d things shake out for you?”
Charlie nodded. Just two siblings he might have had, but didn't actually know at all. He wondered morbidly if his Mum had been pregnant and at seven he hadn't known it. He supposed it would depend on when Ron's birthday was. He almost didn't want to ask, or know. Maybe he just wouldn't.
"Yeah, they said Bill was here, I just figured -" he waved a hand vaguely, his knee bouncing up and down as energy and restlessness sat in. What he really wanted was a broom, a snitch, and a Quidditch pitch, but forty-eight hours Tonks had said. He had at least forty-eight hours before he could get any of those things. "I mean nobody wakes up and expects there's some sort of an alternate reality of their life out there, do they?"
Romania and dragons sounded… well, it had been an almost hadn't it been? He'd thought about working with magical creatures after Hogwarts. Probably if he hadn't gotten the offer from the Cannons, and he hadn't wanted so badly to do something that would make his Dad proud, he might have pursued that more eagerly. Creatures had been left behind for the possibility of winning a League match to make his Dad proud.
"It's mental, to be quite honest, but I figure that's probably how Muggles feel about magic, right?" he tightened his leg up, realizing that he was fidgeting a bit. "Mum's really here?"
Harry put his glasses back on and smiled, slightly crooked. Like he wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. “It is mental.” He thought of telling Charlie about his Aunt Petunia but decided against it. This was Charlie’s time. “She just showed up when you did. She’s about,” he thought and took a swig, “Thirty something, maybe?”
Harry sat his bottle on the ground. “You’ll love Ginny. She’s ... firey.” A nervous laugh breached his lips, unsure of what to say of his future wife. “You’ll have a nephew as well, his name is Albus. He’s the child of Ginny and I. One of three.” At that point, Harry was positively beaming.
“And even if you don’t know me, I’m your family too, Charlie. You came to a place for second chances and really … weird stuff.”
"At least she's older than me," Charlie shook his head. "If I were older than my own Mum that might make my head explode and it's been getting pretty close to it several times already. That'd be about the age I remember her actually."
His throat tightened up a bit. The idea of seeing his Mum, even if she wasn't his Mum exactly, it was - well, second chances. It was second chances. For most of his life he'd had to wonder whether or not he'd make his parents proud of him, and been afraid a good portion of it that they wouldn't be. He'd get to find out, and he wasn't certain if that was better or worse than not knowing.
He thought about asking if he got married in Harry's world, but it was impossible to think about it. Maybe to someone like Tonks, but he couldn't really think about that either. Like, the idea of being that settled to anyone? It just didn't seem much like it'd suit with the life he'd chosen, so he might as well not bother asking. If Harry offered it then fine, but he didn't need to know.
"Yeah, Albus and I are… talking I guess," he waved a hand at the Muggle thing they'd fit him up with. So far his nephew - that was really weird to think about - was proving a useful fount of information. "Three huh?" He looked up and grinned. "What are the other two named then? Both boys? Or girls?"
“My parents are here too, and I’m older than them. Just by a few years. It’s strange, but I’m happy to see them. In my world, I was raised by my aunt and uncle. Muggles. Nothing against them, of course-- Muggles at least. But they didn’t teach me about magic until Hagrid came to me on my eleventh birthday.” Harry smiled a little at the memory. And knowing that Charlie lost his mother when he was young-- and that she was here, was a nice thought for Harry. He understood how it felt.
“Another boy and a girl. James Sirius and Lily Luna.” Harry announced, maybe a little too proudly. The confidence wavered a bit, seeing as he only met Albus. He didn’t know how the other two turned out. But at least they had good names. “Albus is older than me by several years, it’s very strange. He’s also seen me come and go a few times. People blink in and out it seems.” Harry sighed, wishing there was some sort of magic that would keep the people here that wanted to stay here.
"They died though, so you're getting to see them again, that's fabulous," Charlie said. At least he thought it was fabulous, part of him wasn't certain. Well, he wanted to see his mother, and he was also afraid what she was going to think of him. It was a feedback loop that he didn't seem capable of pulling to a close. He sighed, and put his hand down on his knee, bouncing it a little while he nodded.
"This all just seems so impossible. I guess everyone thinks that at first," he shook his head. "But that there's this whole other world where everything is so different - and then there's this world where a lot of other people are. I don't play Quidditch in your world do I?"
Harry nodded, “Fabulous indeed.” So much so that instead of finding his own place, he lived with them in their Godric’s Hollow home. He felt it was okay for an adult to live with his parents if they died when he was a toddler.
There was a squint of his eyes before answering, “You’d be better off asking one of your brothers about that. Ginny plays, she’s amazing. Fred and George were beaters for Gryffindor as well. You probably did.”
It sounded, at least as if Harry's parents were pleased about his life. Maybe Charlie was worrying too much about his own mum's reactions to things. Probably he was. It was just a little nerve-wracking when you realized that you'd become a whole person who was different from the much smaller person that she'd known, and who knew if she'd be proud or not. Maye she hated professional Quidditch players, or something.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and say, not professionally," Charlie chuckled. But he'd kinda figured not already. If the other Charlie, the one that was here, worked with dragons, then probably he didn't do Quidditch professionally even if he had played it in school. Hopefully he'd still played it in school - it'd be too weird to think about a world here he hadn't done that. "But yeah, Fred and George are fantastic beaters, they used to be for me when we were all at home in the summer. I think they rather too thoroughly enjoyed trying to knock me off my broom. What position does Ginny play?"
Harry smiled and brushed his hand over his chin, lost in thought. Whenever Ginny came up, he got a dreamy look in his eyes. “Oh, she plays Chaser and Seeker. I was usually Seeker for Gryffindor but when I wasn’t around, she was.” He started to rip the label from the bottle of beer. “Fred and George were brilliant as well.” For a moment, Harry was a little mad at the universe for sending two Charlies and no Fred for George. For all of them. It just made him feel terrible for a moment of resentment for this Charlie. He sat up straight and started with the positive vibes. Or maybe it was time to go.
“Charlie, it’s been brill to meet you, but I think I should get going. Do you want the rest of the beer?” Without waiting for Charlie to answer, Harry put the remaining bottles into the compartment that connected them. Shutting it, he gave it a little pat. “Hopefully we’ll get Quidditch working soon and I’ll see what you can do,” he said cheerfully.
A little sister that was a brilliant Quidditch player. Clearly, Charlie had missed out in life. And he'd have to see what his little sister could do when he got out here. He had a little sister, which… he was still wrapping his head around, but he might almost be okay with her beating him in a match.
"I'd like that," he responded aloud. "That sounds pretty brilliant to be honest. It's a plan."
He stood up, feeling like he needed to reach out and shake Harry's hand, but he couldn't really do that with the glass between them could he? Instead he reached out and picked up one of the beer bottles Harry had sent through and raised it up, tilting it towards Harry in a bit of a toast. "Thanks for this, mate. Pretty sure you've saved my life here. I owe you one when I get out of here."