Charlie's POV
The more time I spend with Lyra, the more I want to be around her. But after the First Task, I had to return to Romania. I still remember how crestfallen she looked when Ron told her I was leaving. Merlin, I wanted to stay just to keep that sadness from her eyes. But of course, I couldn't.
So here I am, unable to sleep yet another night, thoughts consumed by her. We exchange letters weekly. She told me about the Yule Ball at Hogwarts, and Just envisioning her gliding across the dancefloor on some undeserving boy's arm made my blood boil. The rational part of me understood I had no legitimate claim on her. But since when have feelings ever followed rules of logic? I was jealous, I know it's absurd, but reason flies out the window where she's concerned.
Today, though, I received a letter that made my stomach drop. Dumbledore wrote, inviting me to join the Order of the Phoenix and return to London. I agreed without hesitation. Tomorrow I'll arrive at Order headquarters, though I haven't told Lyra yet. It'll be fun to surprise her and see her reaction. She has the best responses to everything.
I imagine walking into the room and her eyes lighting up, lips stretching into that radiant smile. She'd probably run and throw her arms around me in an enthusiastic hug like she always does. Maybe she'd take my hand and excitedly give me a tour of the place, green eyes sparkling as she chatters on. I'd just watch her, unable to keep the goofy grin off my face. Merlin, I've missed that melodic voice of hers.
We'd stay up late talking by the fire, her leaning into my side, head on my shoulder. I'd tell her stories about the dragons and she'd fill me in on everything I've missed at Hogwarts. It would feel so easy, so natural, being with her again.
I know I shouldn't get my hopes up. She probably won't react that way. I'm just her friend's older brother, nothing more. But I can't help daydreaming about seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. My heart lifts just picturing it.
One more day and I'll be back in the same country as her at least. It's pathetic how much that simple fact thrills me. I'm acting like a smitten teenager, not a grown man. But when it comes to Lyra, reason and logic don't seem to apply.
I arrived at the Order of the Phoenix's current headquarters, a decrepit old home at 12 Grimmauld Place belonging to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Inside, I found Mum fussing over the dusty curtains while Dad examined the family tapestry with interest and Bill helped reinforce the protective enchantments. Mad-Eye Moody stumped around, his magical eye whizzing, barking security questions at anyone unwary enough to catch his attention. Mrs. Black's portrait was in fine form as well, spewing shrill insults that echoed horribly in the cavernous entry hall.
I was introduced to Lyra's uncle Sirius Black, the wrongly-imprisoned Azkaban escapee who was permitting the Order to use his childhood home as our base. Sirius greeted me with hearty humor, though grief and anger smoldered in his sunken eyes after so many years stolen by Dementors. I couldn't help but wonder if his young niece shared similar shadows.
My younger siblings - including Ron, Ginny, and the infamous Weasley twins - and Lyra were still away at Hogwarts and wouldn't return until nightfall. I claimed a musty bedroom on the third floor under a permanent sticking charm holding moth-eaten velvet curtains in place. Dropping my rucksack on the carved oak four-poster, I glanced around at the ominous serpent motifs and knife-slashed portraits left from Sirius's youth. Heavy tapestries choked off most light or fresh air. Lovely...
Come late afternoon, I sat in on my first Order meeting around the basement kitchen's long table. Moody updated us on the Ministry's increasing corruption and paranoia while Dumbledore warned that Voldemort had ways to circumvent their security forces entirely. As I listened to tales of innocents going missing and unexplained attacks.
Later I'm sitting at the worn wooden table nursing a cooling cup of tea when a beloved voice drifts in from the other room, nearly causing me to slosh steaming liquid all down my front in surprise. Jamming the cup onto the table before I spill it entirely, I make my way toward that musical sound on unsteady legs, pulse already thrumming.
As I step into the cozy living room, my greedy gaze instantly finds her - Lyra, haloed by the firelight casting a ruby glow over her raven hair. Standing frozen I drank her in - the gentle waves of chestnut framing her porcelain face, her rosebud lips curved into a dazzling smile. Then those crystalline blue eyes locked with mine across the room and widened in disbelief. She looks adorably dumbfounded and even more beautiful than my memory supplied, pink lips parted and crystalline eyes blown wide. An involuntary grin stretches my cheeks almost painfully.
"Hey, Lyra!" I manage, my own voice sounding foreignly rough to my ears. At my greeting, her stunning features transform, delicate eyebrows crashing together adorably as she was flying at me in a whirlwind of cashmere and floral perfume. Before I can react, she's raining down swats on my chest and shoulders, soft palms making harmless contact with my larger frame. Despite her fury, a laugh rumbles in my chest. Merlin, I've missed her reactions.
"Hey Lyra? That's what you have to say after ignoring me for over a week?" she fumes between half-hearted blows. "I was worried sick! Thought I'd offended you or - " She breaks off, color flooding her ivory cheeks as she notices our audience. The urge to smooth my thumb over the charming flush wars with my amusement at her tirade.
Unable to wipe the grin off my face, I reach out to ruffle her silken mane affectionately instead, the dark strands sliding through my fingers like water. "Well, I thought about writing, but then I figured maybe I would enjoy this look on your face much more," I admit cheekily.
She huffs, swatting at me again with no real malice, twin spots of embarrassed pink still staining her high cheekbones. "Prat! You ignored my letters on purpose?" Despite her accusatory tone, pleasure thrums through me that she even noticed my lack of communication.
I hold up my hands in mock surrender. "Guilty! Wanted to see that adorable frustrated look on your face." Unable to resist, I tweak her inflamed nose playfully, eliciting the most appealing scrunch. "Worth it, even if you did try to beat me to a pulp. Glad to see you care though!"
My heart lurches hopefully as she grumbles embarrassedly, "Of course I care, you idiot." Before I can examine her confession too closely, she steps into me, slender arms banding around my waist. I return the embrace without hesitation, chin coming to rest atop her silken hair, the floral scent overwhelming my senses. She melted into me with a contented sigh that made my reckless heart soar. Against my chest, her muffled voice admits almost shyly, "I missed you..."
Emotion clogs my throat. Swallowing thickly, I confess into her fragrant locks, "Missed you too..." We cling tightly, her petite frame tucking perfectly against me. I never want to let go.
Bella's voice reminds me that we were still in the living room "Charlie dear, why don't you help Lyra get settled into her room just across from yours upstairs?"
I felt the heat crawl up my own neck as I rubbed it ruefully. "Er - right. C'mon Lyra." Still floating euphorically I directed her luggage to trail us up the creaking stairs to the third floor bedrooms, hyper-aware of her delicate hand tucked trustingly in mine.
As we walked, she asked, "So what's all this about you lot staying with us? What's this Order business?" I grimaced, hating to evade her thoughtful questions but knowing secrecy was imperative with a target on her back. "Probably shouldn't say much. But let's just say Dumbledore's got Us helping out with You-know-who. Extra security and all."
Mercifully, she simply nodded, allowing me to steer her into her freshly cleaned and furnished bedroom directly across from my own. I felt suddenly bashful, grinning at her with my hands shoved awkwardly into my pockets. "Home sweet home for the summer at least! I'm just across the way if you, y'know, need anything at all."
She eyed the narrow corridor between our doors with an impish grin that foretold trouble. "Brilliant! We'll be partners in crime all holiday," she declared cheerfully. Of course, that was the first thing my little troublemaker thought of us doing. "Merlin help us all," I said
With a jaunty salute, I made my escape before she glimpsed the besotted yearning so plainly etched across my features. As I retreat to my own bedroom, anticipation tingles through me knowing I'll fall asleep and wake mere steps away from the divine Lyra Black. I feel almost giddy at the prospect. You're a grown man, Charlie, not a teenage girl, stop behaving like one.
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Today was a rare lazy afternoon - no Order missions, meetings, or strategizing. Just me, sprawled across my bed after an exhausting mission, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun round and round, I let the rhythmic whirring lull my exhausted mind. My limbs felt like lead weights, heavy and drained. These constant Order missions were really taking their toll. Wrangling rowdy dragons seemed easy in comparison to battling dark wizards night after night.
With a long sigh, I hauled myself upright. A hot cup of tea was calling my name. I shambled to the kitchen, each step requiring immense effort.
Passing by the living room, faint sounds caught my attention. I paused, curiosity getting the better of me, and poked my head in. What I saw lifted my spirits instantly, washing away the stress and exhaustion that had clung to me moments before.
There in the middle of the room was Lyra, dancing and singing her heart out, leaping and twirling around the room with boundless energy. She held a water bottle up to her mouth like a microphone, singing passionately. I leaned against the doorframe, content to watch her impromptu performance. Her enthusiasm was infectious - I could already feel my earlier gloom dissipating. A wide grin spread across my face unbidden. Merlin, how I love this girl.
Wait...love? The realization slammed into me like a rogue bludger. NO...no....this can't be happening. But it is a small voice in my head deadpanned. I am in love with Lyra. Truly, madly, deeply in love. Fuck.
Oblivious to my earth-shattering epiphany, Lyra bounced across the furniture, belting out lyrics: "Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain..."
As she danced along the back of the sofa, belting out some lively tune, her foot caught the edge of a cushion. Arms flailing, she teetered dangerously. I lunged forward just in time, catching her against my chest before she toppled over the table.
Lyra gasped, grabbing fistfuls of my sweater to steady herself. Those piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, and my brain short-circuited. I was frozen, unable to think or breathe. All I could do was drink her in.
"Charlie...?" Her tentative voice finally broke through my daze. Still struggling to regain coherent thought, I just hummed in response. Gently, I set her back on her feet, hands lingering perhaps a beat too long on her waist. She was still clutching my shirt, keeping us tethered together. I made no move to step away.
Lyra stared up at me, her hands still clinging to my sweater. I was very aware of how close we were standing, her body pressed against mine.
"Uh, thanks for catching me," she said, cheeks flushing pink.
"No problem." I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think of something clever to say but coming up blank.
An awkward silence stretched between us. Lyra toyed with her headphone cord, not quite meeting my eyes.
I cleared my throat, trying to act casual despite the riot she induced in my chest. "Looked like some pretty intense dance moves," I tease.
She flushes. "Oh Merlin, don't remind me. You weren't supposed to see that!"
I laugh. "Are you kidding? That was the best part of my day so far. So uh, what song were you performing there?"
"Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift," she answered, popping the earbuds out to let me hear. An upbeat melody filled the air between us.
"Huh, not bad," I remarked.
Lyra gasped in mock outrage. "Not bad? Charlie Weasley, if you don't think this is absolutely bloody awesome music, we can't be friends."
I winced inwardly at her calling us just friends, even in jest. Trying to keep my tone light, I retorted, "Really? You'd revoke our friendship over a singer?"
"Not over a singer, over Taylor Swift!" she proclaimed dramatically.
I pretended to consider this critically important matter. As the lyrics washed over me - I'll run my fingers through your hair, watch the lights go wild, just keep on keeping your eyes on me - I found myself staring at Lyra's profile as she danced next to me.
"I think...I love Taylor Swift," I declared finally, a soft smile touching my lips. What I really wanted to say was I love you singing Taylor Swift, hell I love you, period. But I swallowed back the reckless words.
Lyra beamed at me approvingly. "I knew you'd come around! Now come on, you need to properly experience Tay's lyrical genius."
Before I could react, she had grabbed my hand, looping the other earbud around my head so we both could listen. And just like that, we were dancing together, smiling and singing off-key. In those carefree moments, my worries faded away.
Maybe she'd only ever see me as a friend. But if I could keep glimpsing this joyful, silly side of Lyra, and share these private unguarded moments, perhaps that would be enough.
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I'm slouched in an armchair before the merrily crackling fire, half-heartedly watching a chess match between Harry and Ron. My attention keeps wandering to the sofa where Lyra sits tucked between Ginny and Hermione, flushed cheeks glinting in the firelight as she laughs brightly at something Ginny said.
The sight transports me back to the night she stumbled into my room thoroughly drunk, cheeks similarly rosy with color, eyes glassy yet still striking as she clung endearingly to my shoulder. A rueful smile tugs my lips at the memory before I force myself to look away. This hopeless pining is getting out of hand.
Ginny's sly tone interrupts my reverie. "Soo...Lyra, guess who informed me they have a crush on you?"
My spine stiffens, muscles coiling tensely. Some ponce fancies my Lyra? Who the fuck had feelings for my girl? She's not your girl, the bitter voice in my head snapped. I stared harder into the fire, straining to listen.
"Someone actually fancies our Lyra? Surely not!" Ara teases playfully. Oh surely someone does, you oblivious git. Me.
"Come off it, who's the poor lad then?" George demanded. Your idiot older brother, that's who.
"Remember that Hufflepuff we ran into in Diagon Alley? Blue eyes, shaggy blond hair?" Ginny prompts. My fingers dig into the threadbare armrest, irrational irritation simmering. My eye twitched. Jeremy or something? Whoever this wanker was, I already hated him.
"Er...Jeremy?" Lyra guessed uncertainly. Bingo. Fuck Jeremy. Even his benign name raises my hackles.
"That's him!" Ginny confirmed excitedly. "According to Parvati, he was going on about how pretty and charming you are after your little meet cute."
"He was nice," Lyra murmured diplomatically. At that, my eyes snapped to hers. Our gazes locked for a heartbeat before she quickly looked away.
"So...?" Ginny drawled leadingly.
"So?" Lyra echoed, oblivious.
"Soo...would you date him then?" Ginny pressed eagerly. My pulse roared as I glared daggers at the fire. Shut it, Ginny. Just shut up already. Unable to resist, I chance a covert glimpse at Lyra. Our eyes catch and lock for one heated instant before she looks hurriedly away. Jealousy and longing roil inside me. Bloody hell, get a grip, man!
"I - I dunno." Lyra hedged. I let out a slow breath, marginally appeased, my wand hand twitching. "I mean, I barely know him. And he doesn't even know me."
"Oh, please," Fred scoffed. "You're Lyra Black! Everyone at Hogwarts knows you." I envision my fist plowing into Jeremy's pretty boy face and have to refrain from snapping my wand in half.
"Do you have any idea how many boys fancy you in our year alone?" George chimed in, and I struggled to contain my frustration.
"Why are we even talking about this?" Lyra interjected. Yeah, why indeed?
"Because you need to get out there and have some fun," Ginny declared. Ara playfully hit her, making a face. "Don't talk about my older sister having 'fun,'" Hermione quipped. "Ginny's right, and as your best friend, I declare that this year we are both going to find nice guys, go on dates, and have fun." Oh, Merlin, punching a girl was never an option, but it felt so tempting.
"Can we please change the topic?" Lyra pleaded.
"You need to get out there and have some fun! Date around instead of pining after certain unattainable gits..." Ginny continued, and my heart sank at her words. Unattainable gits? My heart shattered, realizing she already liked someone. Of course, she did, and now I despised the guy she liked even more than Jeremy. Who was he? with the urge to hex something. Preferably his face.
Sensing my darkening mood, George elbows my side. "Hey, Charlie, you've been quieter than a Blast-Ended Skrewt in a library! What's up with you?"
Annoyance flared within me. "Nothing much, just enjoying the lively conversation," I replied, my tone sharp.
"Come on, brother, we were just discussing Lyra's potential love life. Got any advice for her? Maybe some dating tips?" George persisted.
I stare stonily at the clicking chess pieces. "Not really. Lyra can handle her own affairs," I bite out, realizing too late the harshness of my tone. Bloody hell, get a grip!
George gives me a puzzled look. "Alright, mate, no need to get all serious. Just thought you might want to share your expertise, considering the number of hearts you've probably broken with that rugged charm."
I risked one last lingering glance at Lyra, heart cracking further, before turning back to the fire. So this was what heartbreak felt like. A bloody miserable thing indeed.
"Maybe you should take your own advice, Georgie," Fred snorts. "Considering you can't even work up the nerve to ask Angelina out!"
As the twins dissolve into playful bickering, I resume glowering moodily into the flames, jealousy and bitterness churning inside me. Is this what heartbreak feels like - this miserable clawing emptiness? If so, it's shite. I drain my forgotten mug of butterbeer and stand abruptly. I need some air before I do something stupid like beg the girl I fancy not to date other wizards. Or throttle my well-meaning brother.
"I'm heading out," I announce tersely to no one in particular. Without waiting for a response, I storm outside into the bracing night. The chill does nothing to cool my raging emotions. Hands fisted helplessly, I stare up at the uncaring stars. Merlin helps the speccy Hufflepuff if he so much as touches a hair on my Lyra's head. The unchecked violence of the thought startles me. Swiping a hand down my weary face, I accept the painful truth - I'm utterly gone for her. And she likely doesn't even know I exist beyond her best friend's older brother. Bloody hell.
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Hello Everyone
So, I really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. If you have any requests for scenes from Charlie's POV let me know. I love your feedback and comments and the love you all are showing this story.
Thank you all
XOXO