Forward Thinking (Charlie Weasley)

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I felt like it's been ages since I've posted a one shot for Charlie, so I hope this one is alright

This one was requested by devilishdaddario and I hope you like it. I had to tweak your idea a little bit, but I hope that's alright 

As always, let me know what you think 

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The Weasleys were waiting. I cast a glance at the clock as its minute hand continued to tick by; we were going to be late and it wouldn't be my fault. Not that it was often my fault. No, today, like on many other days, the fault lay solely with my nephew. Salazar, the last thing I needed was Molly Weasley fretting because we were late.

Looking to the stairs and half hoping my nephew would come rushing down, I waited just a few moments longer. When there was no sign of him, I sighed loudly before shouting, "Harry! Get a move on!"

There was a loud fumble, followed by the sound of thundering footsteps as my nephew, finally, finally rushed down the stairs, hurriedly putting something into his bag. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, I cast a curious glance at his bag and he just offered me an innocent smile. I didn't pry, after all, he'd been through, he was entitled to behave his age.

"I don't even want to know," I said simply, shaking my head and thinking he was just like his father -

His father, just thinking of my brother, brought a lump to my throat that I hurried to swallow away. James, almost 14 years older than me, had been the superhero older brother throughout the first few years of my life and he had been ripped away from me too soon. Not just from me - I eyed his young son contemplatively with a sad smile. Not just from me, he'd been torn away from his young son, a son who was only 6 years older than his aunt. And because I was his aunt, I'd sought him out as soon as I had turned 17 and took responsibility for him, right before he'd started his first year of Hogwarts. Harry wasn't 11 years old anymore, he was almost 19, older the age I'd been when I took him in but Merlin, he looked so young. Was that what people thought when they'd seen me with Harry almost 9 years ago? That I was a child taking in a child? We were fumbling along together, but I knew it was something James would have wanted.

"Anyway," I dismissed the thought with a shake of my head and cleared my throat, "we need to get a move on or else Molly will have my head."

One by one we floo'd to the Burrow where we were greeted by the Weasleys who were scattered around the lounge. Harry brushed the soot off his clothes and headed straight over to Ron, the two young men talking with their heads bowed close together. Whatever they'd said had Hermione reaching out to swat them both on the arm. I really didn't want to know.

A call of my name had my eyes shifting away from my nephew towards Molly who approached me with a smile. I returned it, greeting the older witch and returning her warm embrace.

"Sorry we're late," I started, watching her wave away my words.

"Don't worry about that," she insisted, "come with me to the kitchen."

Before I could say anything in response, she was heading off in that direction. I could only look after her with mild apprehension; that meant one of two things. Either she wanted me to taste something, which was good, or she wanted to set me up with someone, which was not so good. I hoped she just wanted me to check if something had enough salt.

I lingered back for a moment, taking the time to brace myself before following her in. Once I'd gathered as much reserve as I could, I prepared to enter the kitchen, abandoning the motion halfway through when a cup of tea was held out to me.

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