Fic: 'Five Times Harry Potter Met Charlie Weasley' Harry/Charlie, PG13
Title: Five Times Harry Potter Met Charlie Weasley
Author: softly_sweetly
Betas: luvscharlie and snarkyscorp
Rating PG13
Featured Character or Pairing(s): Harry/Charlie
Summary:Now and then, Seer Trelawney gets things spectacularly right.,
Warnings: Non-Magic AU, Arranged Marriage/Bonding, Fluff
Word Count: 4,800
Disclaimer:I don't own them, and I don't profit from them.
Author's/Artist's notes: Written for serpensortiam in the 2009 Weasley_fest. Counts to prompt #9 Heart of my mission_insane Genre Table: Fluff
He was only seventeen years old, still young and flighty, but Harry knew the gravity of the situation. He was top of his year at school, but even the class dunce could work out that the formal robes, the elegant dining room they only used for formal occasions, were not rolled out just for the hell of it. This was a turning point, and Harry knew every word counted.
The Weasley family were rich and powerful, owning every piece of land for as far as the eye could see. But his parents were good people, and Harry knew that was not why they were doing this. The town Seer had made a prediction, and courtesy dictated that the involved parties must meet at least once, in order to consider the prophecy.
Shaking off his mother's fidgeting hands, Harry chanced a look in the mirror. Her fingers had made his unruly hair worse, not better, but there was nothing to be done for that. His robes were too long at the ankles, but again, there was nothing that could help it. They'd been bought for a growth spurt that still hadn't arrived, no matter how much Harry cursed its lateness.
The doorbell clanged, ringing loud and long throughout the house. Harry intercepted the worried look between his parents, and it did nothing to quell his own rising nerves. Money didn't come into it - the Potters had enough of their own - and Harry didn't know Charlie Weasley well enough to have any feelings about him. But Harry didn't want to be rejected by anyone, and he was certain that the well-built, good-looking man would have a thousand other people offering their first-borns.
"Madam Weasley, Mister Weasley, and Master Weasley." The Butler stepped back, bowing himself out of the room and closing the door. The adults were lifelong friends, and Harry got on well with the younger Weasley children. But Charlie was an enigma. A stocky, muscular, tattooed, sexy enigma.
"Harry, this is Charlie."
Holding out his hand, Harry ducked his head respectfully, shaking Charlie's hand and looking up to meet his clear blue eyes. Harry could see intelligence behind them, and when Charlie smiled at him warmly, he chanced a half-smile back.
The first hour was ridiculously painful, and Harry tripped over his words, fumbled his cutlery, and generally made himself look like an inept child. Perhaps the Seer had been wrong; perhaps the great love was actually a great obsession, and all on Harry's part. There was something about Charlie that tied Harry's stomach in knots, and made it difficult to think straight. Charlie asked insightful questions, and Harry stuttered out monosyllabic answers. Charlie engaged with the adults in conversation, while Harry had never felt more out of his depth.
Finally, Charlie cleared his throat and set down his cutlery, looking seriously at Harry. Harry feared the worst.
"My parents told me you keep a large stable. I've always loved horses."
Missing his cue, Harry stared at Charlie until his mother elbowed him softly in the ribs. "Perhaps you could show Charlie the stables?"
"What? Oh... of course. They're out here." As he led the way out of the dining room and through the house, Harry was uncomfortably aware of Charlie's eyes on him. It made him nervous, but the cool darkness of the stables settled his anxiety somewhat. The stable hands were home for the night, and the horses were drowsy and compliant, huffing gently as Harry pushed the door too.
Most of the horses were thoroughbreds, racing horses and show horses, but they had three working horses too. And Sophie. Sophie was Harry's favourite horse - a cranky old mare he'd begged his parents not to have shot when she could no longer work. Charlie gravitated towards her immediately.
"Hello, beautiful."
Huff.
"Look at you, distinguished old lady."
Huff.
"Careful," Harry teased, moving to stand by Charlie's side. "No one calls Sophie the O-word and lives to tell the tale."
"Sophie won't harm me, will you love? But you're right, that was rude. You don't look a day over three, Sophie." Charlie mock-bowed, and Harry laughed. Away from their parents and in a more relaxed setting, he could see that Charlie had a good sense of humour and was easy to talk to.
As they fell into easy conversation about the horses, both were blissfully unaware of the hands being shook by their fathers and the joyful tears being shed by their mothers in the dining room.
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
News of the betrothal travelled fast, and by the next day at school each of Harry's classmates knew he was promised to the second-oldest Weasley boy. Harry had worried that it would affect his relationship with his closest friend, but Ron had taken it well. For their money and power, all of the Weasleys were well-liked, but their famous tempers had made Harry unsure. The last thing he wanted was to be on the wrong end of Ron's right-hook. Or Ginny's, for that matter.
"He snores, you know."
"Ron, give it a rest. The Seer saw what she saw. Christ, try saying that five times faster."
"TheSeersawwhatshesaw," the united chant could only come from one source, and Harry turned around to see the twin Weasleys grinning at him. Fred clapped him on the back. "Brave boy."
"Taking on Charlie," George continued.
"He's a handful."
"A real handful."
"If you get our drift," they finished in unison.
Harry didn't get their drift, and he looked at them in confusion. "A real-" the penny dropped "-Oh! Oh, shut up!"
The twins disappeared down the corridor, a ball of laughter and energy, and Harry had to avoid the slightly queasy look on Ron's face. He hadn't actually thought about... well, about that. Harry had been so excited over not being rejected that he'd forgotten precisely what being accepted entailed. Marriage. As soon as he turned eighteen, there would be a wedding, and he would be Charlie's. Bound to satisfy the every whim of his betrothed.
Nerves pouring through him, Harry looked up sharply. "I'm going to the bathroom; I'll see you in class." Ron nodded, and Harry shot off. The class was only small, and he would be missed, but he couldn't help that. All of a sudden, Harry needed fresh air very badly. Doubling back the way he had came, Harry slipped out of the doors of the school and rounded the corner, hiding away from view of his bad-tempered teacher's window and leaning against the cool bricks. With his eyes closed, Harry tried to focus his thoughts. Charlie was a good man, and the horror stories of former friends who had been married off to dignitaries in other towns would do him no good to dwell on.
But, Charlie was a full six years older than Harry. He was bound to have all kinds of experience; all Harry had was his right hand. Charlie was bound to expect Harry to be able to perform and take part in things Harry only dreamed of, and Harry...
"Hey, Harry."
Harry hadn't noticed the shadow that fell over him; he'd been too lost in his own thoughts. But the voice was instantly recognisable, and when he opened his eyes they only confirmed that it was Charlie who stood over him, a small smile playing at his lips. There was nothing Harry could do but answer, and hope his thoughts weren't evident in his voice. "H-hey, Charlie. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Ron left his jumper at home, and I fancied a walk into town. Of course, the possibility of seeing you swung my decision too."
Charlie finished his words with a broad, easy smile, and Harry realised with a jolt that Charlie was flirting with him. Again, Harry was reminded that there was a lot more to his being promised to Charlie than an excuse for a knees-up. Well, different types of knees-ups, at least.
"You're very attractive when you worry."
"I'm not worrying." Harry refuted the accusation hotly; he didn't need Charlie thinking he was some fretting little mare.
"Really? You aren't?" Shaking his head, Harry bit the inside of his cheek when his assurance only served to make Charlie laugh at him more. Harry hated being laughed at. "That little pout, the way your lips turn down slightly on the left side, isn't your worried face?"
"No." Harry could see that the teasing was good natured, and he relaxed a little, leaning back against the wall and looking up at Charlie. Being slouched put him at a height disadvantage, and from this angle he could see the stubble on Charlie's chin jutting out from the follicles.
"So, you haven't been turning it over in your pretty little head, all the things that come with our parents' mutual acceptances? The tight robes and the big bed and the lifetime spent shagging each other senseless?"
Colouring up, Harry stammered for words. What was the appropriate comeback for that?
"Because that's all I've managed to think about. You know the big house on the town borders? My parents have given me that. It'll be our marital home, and there are a lot of rooms to christen."
"I... I..." Before Harry could think up any words to follow, Charlie had leant closer to him, crowding him against the wall and forcing him to straighten up, levelling off their height difference. Charlie's lips were warm and smooth, brushing over Harry's own in a fleeting glance.
It was over before Harry could truly register it had begun, and Charlie winked at him saucily. "You're even more attractive when you blush."
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
Harry's eighteenth birthday party was a big event. Not only for him, but for his parents. It was an excuse to invite over the local dignitaries and network, forging contacts that would secure the Potter business for generations to come.
And Harry got a lot of presents out of it.
Trying to get the robes to lie flat, Harry studied himself in the mirror. Charlie would be there tonight. Of course, Charlie would have been invited anyway - it was only polite - but he would actually be there. This would be the first time they'd been together, in public, since their engagement was announced, and Harry knew from overheard gossip that everyone in the town was waiting to see how they were together, if this was a genuine relationship, an act to appease the notoriously fragile town Seer, or a political move on the part of one or both of their parents.
Harry had no idea the conclusions people would draw; he barely knew his own conclusions. He wasn't unhappy with the decision, but he also didn't know Charlie particularly well. Definitely not well enough to share a bed and a home with him.
Giving up on the disagreeable robes, Harry made a half-hearted attempt to tame his hair before he went downstairs and tackled the job of greeting his guests. He hoped that he and Charlie would be alike in their hatred of formal events with outdated rituals.
Half an hour later, and Harry was in no confusion that Charlie hated these events just as much as him, and possibly more. As soon as Charlie had arrived, he'd been bustled over to Harry, and now they were stood next to each other in a slightly uncomfortable manner, accepting congratulations on their betrothal and good wishes on Harry's turning eighteen.
As another couple finished chatting with them and wandered off to mingle, Charlie leaned close to Harry and whispered, "It's going to be worse at the wedding. We'll never manage to sneak out early with the entire town queuing up to shake our hands."
Smiling at a woman who waved at him in passing - Harry had no idea who she was - Harry leaned his head in to Charlie's and moaned, "We'll never escape this one. I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life shaking hands and smiling at people I don't even know."
Harry didn't know why what he'd said would make Charlie smile, but Charlie was grinning like a loon. All became clear when Charlie's hand tightened around his arm, and Charlie ducked his head down and began weaving through the people, headed for the door.
"What are you doing?"
"Escaping this one. Come on, I'm sure we can put the time to better use!"
Harry wasn't strong enough to dig his heels in and resist Charlie dragging him away, but he wouldn't have wanted to either. The thought of freedom - from the false smiles and his restrictive robes - was alluring, and Harry happily followed Charlie out of the ballroom, ducking out before either of their mothers could see them and put a stop to their plans.
The hallway was much cooler than the ballroom, devoid as it was of the mass of people dancing and talking. The silence was ringing in comparison to the hubbub of chatter and the string quartet, and Harry leaned against the wall, sighing in relief. "Thanks, it's good to be out of there."
Rolling his shoulder easily, Charlie still had his hand on Harry's arm, and tugged gently. "Come on, if we stay here we'll be found out. How about your room?"
Before Harry could answer, Charlie had started dragging him away, and Harry had no choice but to follow. He belatedly wished he'd tidied up his room recently - clothes and papers and balls were strewn across the floor - but when he gestured to his door on the second landing and Charlie stepped in, Charlie didn't seem to mind. Finally letting go of Harry's arm, Charlie flung himself onto the bed and kicked off his shoes, undoing his outer robe and the first few buttons of his shirt. "So, come on, tell me about yourself."
Sitting down on the end of the bed, Harry felt prim and out of place as he struggled for something to say. "Like what?"
"I don't know, anything. The Seer clearly thinks were a good match, as do our parents. And there must be something more to that than my shameless lusting after you ever since you grew into your body."
Colouring up, Harry looked down at himself. He couldn't see anything that Charlie would want, and was about to state that when Charlie's hand cupped around his chin. Harry hadn't even noticed Charlie moving, but Charlie's fingers tightened slightly, holding Harry's head in place so that he couldn't look away. "My parents have been trying to marry me off for years. Don't think that I'm doing this for their sakes, or to avoid sending Seer Trelawney into a fit. I'd already been looking at you, and talking to you in the stables just added onto what I'd already been dreaming about. I want to know more about you than that you're kind and beautiful and I want you."
Folding his lower lip between his teeth, Harry forced himself to keep looking at Charlie. Charlie had never struck him as a man who used more words than was necessary, so the mini-monologue was all the more affecting. Clearing his throat Harry waited until Charlie's hand dropped down before he spoke quietly. "I thought I'd be too young to interest you."
"Age is just a number."
"Heh. Yeah, well, it seemed like more of a barrier when I was visiting Ron and you were there, older and wiser and untouchable. Besides, I heard that Angelina Johnson's parents were making an offer and..."
"They did. Angelina is... not my type, you know? It drove mum mental, but I was happy to wait and decline as many offers as I needed to before I found the right person."
"And that's me?"
"That's you."
Charlie's hand was back on his face, and Harry smiled softly. Keeping his eyes on Charlie's, Harry tipped his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Charlie's palm. Despite her batty exterior, Seer Trelawney was usually right about betrothals. Although, she was wrong just enough for there to be horror stories that made everyone nervous. But perhaps with Charlie, she had got it more than right. Perhaps she had got it spot-on perfect.
"What are you thinking about?"
Flirting wasn't Harry's strong point. In fact, beyond a few fumbles and kisses with people at school, none of this was Harry's forte. But he tried to make his voice sound cheeky and sultry as he answered, "You, and the fun of a betrothal."
"And trust me, Harry, it will be fun."
Harry had used up his flirting abilities, so he was struggling for a response to Charlie that wouldn't make him sound like a pillock or a child. Luckily, he was saved the strenuous mental activity when Charlie leant forwards and pressed his lips to Harry's, effectively wiping out all of Harry's higher brain functions, and leaving the single thought GUH flashing through Harry's mind. Opening his lips obligingly when Charlie's tongue swept over them, Harry leaned back slowly, pulling Charlie down on top of him along the foot of the bed. Holding onto Charlie's arm, feeling the muscles working to keep Charlie supported over Harry, Harry buried his other hand in Charlie's hair. As Charlie's tongue twined around his own, Harry decided that he couldn't wait for the marriage to happen.
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
Snapping his head up as something cracked against the window, Harry put down the stack of papers and stood up. Pulling back the curtains he peered down, smiling when he saw Charlie staring up at him. It had been too long since he had seen Charlie - not since the day of his eighteenth party - and Harry fumbled the latches in his desperation to get the windows open.
Finally pushing the panel of glass up in its frame, Harry leaned out and grinned. "What are you doing here?"
"I had to see you."
"You can't, it's tradition. No seeing, no speaking, and definitely no kissing until the ceremony next week."
Jumping up and clinging onto the drainpipe, Charlie began shimmying up the side of the house. "Sod tradition, as if I could stay at home after your last letter."
Blushing, Harry opened the window higher and stepped back. Tradition stated they could not see each other from the day of the younger partner turning eighteen to the day of the marriage, and Harry hadn't realised quite how hard that would be. Their last kiss had turned hot and heavy, interrupted by a knock on the door and an admonishment to get downstairs and charm his guests, but Harry could still remember the way Charlie's lips had felt trailing over his stomach, promising so much more if only they hadn't been interrupted.
Letters were allowed, however, and they had been making good use of that proviso. They'd got to know each other well over the past month through the missives, and Harry had followed Charlie's lead in the later letters, trying his hand at writing down some of the things that kept him up and sweating at night. His last letter had detailed the furtive research he'd been doing in the library, using the books that his parents thought he didn't know about, and his plans to put his newly-learned skills to test on Charlie.
Charlie tumbled in through the window in a less than graceful heap, but still looking adorable as he stood up and pushed the window closed. Letters were one thing, but stood in front of Charlie, some of Harry's nerves and insecurities returned. Clearly Charlie saw that, because the predatory look in his eyes softened for a moment, and he stepped close to Harry. "I haven't been this excited about anything in a long time." Charlie backed up his words with a soft kiss, holding Harry loosely and backing him slowly towards the bed.
Harry let himself be pushed along until the frame was pressing into the backs of his knees before he pulled back and gave Charlie a mock-scowl. "Now this is definitely against tradition."
Charlie chuckled softly as he pressed his lips along Harry's neck, and Harry leaned into the touch. The ceremony was in less than a week, and things were moving fast. The wedding would be held at Weasley Manor, and a carriage would take them from the reception to the smart little house they'd be living in. Harry had already seen it a few times, picturesque and white, set in sprawling grounds with its own stables. Harry's belongings would be moved there during the ceremony and reception, all ready for him to take up his new life. Between the excitement and nerves, Harry was also taking a small amount of joy from the jealous looks he got from every single person he passed in town.
"What are you thinking about?"
"That everyone in this town hates me for stealing you away." Harry grinned to show that he was joking, but Charlie still looked a little worried. "Really, I'm fine. Just a little nervous."
"I'm nervous too. We only have four crates of sherry, and Seer Trelawney is coming to the wedding."
Laughing out loud, Harry smacked Charlie gently on the arm. "Who invited her?"
"Mum and Dad. They had to; she did get this prediction pretty spot on."
"I suppose. But maybe get another crate or two in." Folding one leg up behind him Harry sat down on the bed and pulled Charlie down next to him. "She creeps me out."
Lying down on the bed and kicking his shoes off, Charlie pulled Harry down and pushed his hair off his face. "Why?"
Harry had only found out by accident, looking through books he knew he shouldn't look through, but his parents had sworn him to secrecy. Every prophecy that Seer Trelawney had ever made was recorded down and kept in the private section of the town library. On a dare, Harry had broken in and stolen the book, teenage hi-jinxs that backfired when he saw his name on one of the pages.
But, Charlie was his husband to be, and the foundation of marriage was no secret. "She gave a prophecy about me when my Mum was pregnant with me, that I would have an enemy who would scar me for life, almost kill me, and that I might not survive him."
Charlie sucked in a breath through his teeth and Harry wished he'd kept quiet. His mum and dad had been furious when they found the book under his mattress, and had made him return it and apologise to the town's record keeper. As Charlie's fingers ran up to run over the small scar on his forehead, harry laughed gently. "I lost a fight with a coffee table, you know that."
"Yeah, I know. But still, I thought she kept her prophecies to births and marriages."
"She does. With the occasional horror story. It's no big deal. Besides, if she comes, there'll be that many people congratulating her on her successful prophecy that we'll be able to slip out unnoticed."
"That's very hopeful of you, Harry. And nice; I was planning to just up and leave with no explanation."
Harry rolled forwards and pressed his lips against Charlie's, laughing softly. Charlie's arms were wrapped around his waist and Harry moaned as he was rolled back and Charlie slipped on top of him. Harry knew he should stop this, remind Charlie that if they were caught they'd be in trouble for shamelessly flouting all the traditions that the rest of the world abided by, but his lips were busy kissing, and chastising was the last thing he wanted to do. Besides, a few little kisses couldn't hurt.
Charlie's kisses trailed down his jawbone, making Harry shiver as Charlie nipped his earlobe, Charlie's thigh pressing between his legs. "I've been thinking about your last letter all week. Do you feel what it's done to me?"
Harry was about to answer that he didn't know but Charlie's leg shifted slightly, and Harry was suddenly enlightened. Stammering, Harry coloured up as Charlie's chuckles reverberated over his skin.
"I could always leave."
"Let's not get hasty," Harry managed a grin, trying to work out where to put his hands. They suddenly seemed too big and clunky, and Harry hoped Charlie wouldn't look down and notice his abnormal extremities. "You've already risked rain and heartbreak on our wedding day by seeing me, so you might as well stay."
"And be hung for a lion not a lamb? I like your thinking, Harry."
Smiling tightly, Harry shifted a little on the bed, freezing when Charlie twitched and moaned. Harry had inadvertently brushed his leg over the bulge in Charlie's trousers, and very carefully he did it again. Grinning and pressing his lips to Charlie's cheek, Harry reached his hand down and brushed his fingers over Charlie's groin. "How about this thinking?"
"Very likeable." Charlie shifted down the bed, pushing up Harry's pyjama top and pressing soft kisses across Harry's stomach. "Just as likeable as the rest of you."
Throwing his hands above his head, Harry closed his eyes and hummed softly. He was expecting Charlie to resume kissing, and opened his eyes again when he felt the bed shifting and there were no more kisses. "What?"
"You were right. This is breaking tradition."
Pouting, Harry sat up and took Charlie's hand in his. "So you climb up the drainpipe, rile me up, and then leave?"
"It's the debonair way," Charlie teased, bringing Harry's hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. "Besides, it's only a week to wait."
"I suppose." Harry stood up and pulled Charlie up with him, heading over to the window and leaning out. He let Charlie pull him back in and leaned up, kissing Charlie softly. "Go on then, get home. I'll see you next week."
"Don't find someone new while I'm gone," Charlie threw up as he clambered out of the window and grabbed a hold of the drainpipe.
"I'll try not to," Harry teased back, leaning right out of the window to watch Charlie shimmy down the drain pipe. As Charlie waved up at him Harry blew a kiss down, smiling softly and watching Charlie walking away until he was enveloped by the darkness. Next week couldn't come fast enough.
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
Harry could barely keep the smile off his face as he watched people filing into the town church. The women of the village, bustling in their fine clothes and waving handkerchiefs as though this were a farewell, eyes already brimming with tears. The young girls - and some of the boys - casting jealous glances around the church and consoling themselves in carrying whispers that Charlie was only marrying out of respect for the Seer, and nothing would come of the union. Harry was tempted to go out and point out that many girls, and boys, had been offered to Charlie, and he had turned them all down, so doing something he didn't want to do was clearly not in his nature, but he decided life was too short. After all, he had the man.
"What are you peeking at?"
Turning around, Harry worked hard to keep his breath. He didn't want to seem like a silly child, gasping and swooning just because Charlie was in a tuxedo, and looked positively edible. Harry had spent the morning being pushed and pulled by his mother, shoe-horned into a tuxedo that made him look like a penguin before his mother sat down on the bed and sobbed. Harry had been worried, but his father assured him that was perfectly normal behaviour and has shooed Harry out. Sure enough, five minutes later his parents had emerged looking happy, and led him to the waiting carriage.
"Harry?"
"Just looking at all these people."
"Yeah," Charlie peered around the door and shook his head, disbelief colouring his tone. "Mum and Dad invited everyone they've ever passed in the street, I think."
"My parents did the same."
"And here we are, keeping everyone waiting!"
Harry laughed, stepping back and sighing softly. It was unfair, how good Charlie looked in his tuxedo, and how stupid Harry looked in his.
As if reading his mind, Charlie leaned forwards and whispered, "You look stunning. I can't believe how lucky I am, to walk down the aisle with you."
Colouring up, Harry cleared his throat and lifted his gaze, offering a lopsided smile to Charlie. "Shall we?"
"I think we shall." Charlie offered his hand and Harry took it gently, unable to keep the smile off his face as they opened the door and started walking down the aisle.
Laughing a little as the orchestra scrambled to start playing, Harry focused on each step, every move taking him closer to his future.
Friends, we are gathered here today...
Author: softly_sweetly
Betas: luvscharlie and snarkyscorp
Rating PG13
Featured Character or Pairing(s): Harry/Charlie
Summary:Now and then, Seer Trelawney gets things spectacularly right.,
Warnings: Non-Magic AU, Arranged Marriage/Bonding, Fluff
Word Count: 4,800
Disclaimer:I don't own them, and I don't profit from them.
Author's/Artist's notes: Written for serpensortiam in the 2009 Weasley_fest. Counts to prompt #9 Heart of my mission_insane Genre Table: Fluff
He was only seventeen years old, still young and flighty, but Harry knew the gravity of the situation. He was top of his year at school, but even the class dunce could work out that the formal robes, the elegant dining room they only used for formal occasions, were not rolled out just for the hell of it. This was a turning point, and Harry knew every word counted.
The Weasley family were rich and powerful, owning every piece of land for as far as the eye could see. But his parents were good people, and Harry knew that was not why they were doing this. The town Seer had made a prediction, and courtesy dictated that the involved parties must meet at least once, in order to consider the prophecy.
Shaking off his mother's fidgeting hands, Harry chanced a look in the mirror. Her fingers had made his unruly hair worse, not better, but there was nothing to be done for that. His robes were too long at the ankles, but again, there was nothing that could help it. They'd been bought for a growth spurt that still hadn't arrived, no matter how much Harry cursed its lateness.
The doorbell clanged, ringing loud and long throughout the house. Harry intercepted the worried look between his parents, and it did nothing to quell his own rising nerves. Money didn't come into it - the Potters had enough of their own - and Harry didn't know Charlie Weasley well enough to have any feelings about him. But Harry didn't want to be rejected by anyone, and he was certain that the well-built, good-looking man would have a thousand other people offering their first-borns.
"Madam Weasley, Mister Weasley, and Master Weasley." The Butler stepped back, bowing himself out of the room and closing the door. The adults were lifelong friends, and Harry got on well with the younger Weasley children. But Charlie was an enigma. A stocky, muscular, tattooed, sexy enigma.
"Harry, this is Charlie."
Holding out his hand, Harry ducked his head respectfully, shaking Charlie's hand and looking up to meet his clear blue eyes. Harry could see intelligence behind them, and when Charlie smiled at him warmly, he chanced a half-smile back.
The first hour was ridiculously painful, and Harry tripped over his words, fumbled his cutlery, and generally made himself look like an inept child. Perhaps the Seer had been wrong; perhaps the great love was actually a great obsession, and all on Harry's part. There was something about Charlie that tied Harry's stomach in knots, and made it difficult to think straight. Charlie asked insightful questions, and Harry stuttered out monosyllabic answers. Charlie engaged with the adults in conversation, while Harry had never felt more out of his depth.
Finally, Charlie cleared his throat and set down his cutlery, looking seriously at Harry. Harry feared the worst.
"My parents told me you keep a large stable. I've always loved horses."
Missing his cue, Harry stared at Charlie until his mother elbowed him softly in the ribs. "Perhaps you could show Charlie the stables?"
"What? Oh... of course. They're out here." As he led the way out of the dining room and through the house, Harry was uncomfortably aware of Charlie's eyes on him. It made him nervous, but the cool darkness of the stables settled his anxiety somewhat. The stable hands were home for the night, and the horses were drowsy and compliant, huffing gently as Harry pushed the door too.
Most of the horses were thoroughbreds, racing horses and show horses, but they had three working horses too. And Sophie. Sophie was Harry's favourite horse - a cranky old mare he'd begged his parents not to have shot when she could no longer work. Charlie gravitated towards her immediately.
"Hello, beautiful."
Huff.
"Look at you, distinguished old lady."
Huff.
"Careful," Harry teased, moving to stand by Charlie's side. "No one calls Sophie the O-word and lives to tell the tale."
"Sophie won't harm me, will you love? But you're right, that was rude. You don't look a day over three, Sophie." Charlie mock-bowed, and Harry laughed. Away from their parents and in a more relaxed setting, he could see that Charlie had a good sense of humour and was easy to talk to.
As they fell into easy conversation about the horses, both were blissfully unaware of the hands being shook by their fathers and the joyful tears being shed by their mothers in the dining room.
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
News of the betrothal travelled fast, and by the next day at school each of Harry's classmates knew he was promised to the second-oldest Weasley boy. Harry had worried that it would affect his relationship with his closest friend, but Ron had taken it well. For their money and power, all of the Weasleys were well-liked, but their famous tempers had made Harry unsure. The last thing he wanted was to be on the wrong end of Ron's right-hook. Or Ginny's, for that matter.
"He snores, you know."
"Ron, give it a rest. The Seer saw what she saw. Christ, try saying that five times faster."
"TheSeersawwhatshesaw," the united chant could only come from one source, and Harry turned around to see the twin Weasleys grinning at him. Fred clapped him on the back. "Brave boy."
"Taking on Charlie," George continued.
"He's a handful."
"A real handful."
"If you get our drift," they finished in unison.
Harry didn't get their drift, and he looked at them in confusion. "A real-" the penny dropped "-Oh! Oh, shut up!"
The twins disappeared down the corridor, a ball of laughter and energy, and Harry had to avoid the slightly queasy look on Ron's face. He hadn't actually thought about... well, about that. Harry had been so excited over not being rejected that he'd forgotten precisely what being accepted entailed. Marriage. As soon as he turned eighteen, there would be a wedding, and he would be Charlie's. Bound to satisfy the every whim of his betrothed.
Nerves pouring through him, Harry looked up sharply. "I'm going to the bathroom; I'll see you in class." Ron nodded, and Harry shot off. The class was only small, and he would be missed, but he couldn't help that. All of a sudden, Harry needed fresh air very badly. Doubling back the way he had came, Harry slipped out of the doors of the school and rounded the corner, hiding away from view of his bad-tempered teacher's window and leaning against the cool bricks. With his eyes closed, Harry tried to focus his thoughts. Charlie was a good man, and the horror stories of former friends who had been married off to dignitaries in other towns would do him no good to dwell on.
But, Charlie was a full six years older than Harry. He was bound to have all kinds of experience; all Harry had was his right hand. Charlie was bound to expect Harry to be able to perform and take part in things Harry only dreamed of, and Harry...
"Hey, Harry."
Harry hadn't noticed the shadow that fell over him; he'd been too lost in his own thoughts. But the voice was instantly recognisable, and when he opened his eyes they only confirmed that it was Charlie who stood over him, a small smile playing at his lips. There was nothing Harry could do but answer, and hope his thoughts weren't evident in his voice. "H-hey, Charlie. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Ron left his jumper at home, and I fancied a walk into town. Of course, the possibility of seeing you swung my decision too."
Charlie finished his words with a broad, easy smile, and Harry realised with a jolt that Charlie was flirting with him. Again, Harry was reminded that there was a lot more to his being promised to Charlie than an excuse for a knees-up. Well, different types of knees-ups, at least.
"You're very attractive when you worry."
"I'm not worrying." Harry refuted the accusation hotly; he didn't need Charlie thinking he was some fretting little mare.
"Really? You aren't?" Shaking his head, Harry bit the inside of his cheek when his assurance only served to make Charlie laugh at him more. Harry hated being laughed at. "That little pout, the way your lips turn down slightly on the left side, isn't your worried face?"
"No." Harry could see that the teasing was good natured, and he relaxed a little, leaning back against the wall and looking up at Charlie. Being slouched put him at a height disadvantage, and from this angle he could see the stubble on Charlie's chin jutting out from the follicles.
"So, you haven't been turning it over in your pretty little head, all the things that come with our parents' mutual acceptances? The tight robes and the big bed and the lifetime spent shagging each other senseless?"
Colouring up, Harry stammered for words. What was the appropriate comeback for that?
"Because that's all I've managed to think about. You know the big house on the town borders? My parents have given me that. It'll be our marital home, and there are a lot of rooms to christen."
"I... I..." Before Harry could think up any words to follow, Charlie had leant closer to him, crowding him against the wall and forcing him to straighten up, levelling off their height difference. Charlie's lips were warm and smooth, brushing over Harry's own in a fleeting glance.
It was over before Harry could truly register it had begun, and Charlie winked at him saucily. "You're even more attractive when you blush."
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
Harry's eighteenth birthday party was a big event. Not only for him, but for his parents. It was an excuse to invite over the local dignitaries and network, forging contacts that would secure the Potter business for generations to come.
And Harry got a lot of presents out of it.
Trying to get the robes to lie flat, Harry studied himself in the mirror. Charlie would be there tonight. Of course, Charlie would have been invited anyway - it was only polite - but he would actually be there. This would be the first time they'd been together, in public, since their engagement was announced, and Harry knew from overheard gossip that everyone in the town was waiting to see how they were together, if this was a genuine relationship, an act to appease the notoriously fragile town Seer, or a political move on the part of one or both of their parents.
Harry had no idea the conclusions people would draw; he barely knew his own conclusions. He wasn't unhappy with the decision, but he also didn't know Charlie particularly well. Definitely not well enough to share a bed and a home with him.
Giving up on the disagreeable robes, Harry made a half-hearted attempt to tame his hair before he went downstairs and tackled the job of greeting his guests. He hoped that he and Charlie would be alike in their hatred of formal events with outdated rituals.
Half an hour later, and Harry was in no confusion that Charlie hated these events just as much as him, and possibly more. As soon as Charlie had arrived, he'd been bustled over to Harry, and now they were stood next to each other in a slightly uncomfortable manner, accepting congratulations on their betrothal and good wishes on Harry's turning eighteen.
As another couple finished chatting with them and wandered off to mingle, Charlie leaned close to Harry and whispered, "It's going to be worse at the wedding. We'll never manage to sneak out early with the entire town queuing up to shake our hands."
Smiling at a woman who waved at him in passing - Harry had no idea who she was - Harry leaned his head in to Charlie's and moaned, "We'll never escape this one. I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life shaking hands and smiling at people I don't even know."
Harry didn't know why what he'd said would make Charlie smile, but Charlie was grinning like a loon. All became clear when Charlie's hand tightened around his arm, and Charlie ducked his head down and began weaving through the people, headed for the door.
"What are you doing?"
"Escaping this one. Come on, I'm sure we can put the time to better use!"
Harry wasn't strong enough to dig his heels in and resist Charlie dragging him away, but he wouldn't have wanted to either. The thought of freedom - from the false smiles and his restrictive robes - was alluring, and Harry happily followed Charlie out of the ballroom, ducking out before either of their mothers could see them and put a stop to their plans.
The hallway was much cooler than the ballroom, devoid as it was of the mass of people dancing and talking. The silence was ringing in comparison to the hubbub of chatter and the string quartet, and Harry leaned against the wall, sighing in relief. "Thanks, it's good to be out of there."
Rolling his shoulder easily, Charlie still had his hand on Harry's arm, and tugged gently. "Come on, if we stay here we'll be found out. How about your room?"
Before Harry could answer, Charlie had started dragging him away, and Harry had no choice but to follow. He belatedly wished he'd tidied up his room recently - clothes and papers and balls were strewn across the floor - but when he gestured to his door on the second landing and Charlie stepped in, Charlie didn't seem to mind. Finally letting go of Harry's arm, Charlie flung himself onto the bed and kicked off his shoes, undoing his outer robe and the first few buttons of his shirt. "So, come on, tell me about yourself."
Sitting down on the end of the bed, Harry felt prim and out of place as he struggled for something to say. "Like what?"
"I don't know, anything. The Seer clearly thinks were a good match, as do our parents. And there must be something more to that than my shameless lusting after you ever since you grew into your body."
Colouring up, Harry looked down at himself. He couldn't see anything that Charlie would want, and was about to state that when Charlie's hand cupped around his chin. Harry hadn't even noticed Charlie moving, but Charlie's fingers tightened slightly, holding Harry's head in place so that he couldn't look away. "My parents have been trying to marry me off for years. Don't think that I'm doing this for their sakes, or to avoid sending Seer Trelawney into a fit. I'd already been looking at you, and talking to you in the stables just added onto what I'd already been dreaming about. I want to know more about you than that you're kind and beautiful and I want you."
Folding his lower lip between his teeth, Harry forced himself to keep looking at Charlie. Charlie had never struck him as a man who used more words than was necessary, so the mini-monologue was all the more affecting. Clearing his throat Harry waited until Charlie's hand dropped down before he spoke quietly. "I thought I'd be too young to interest you."
"Age is just a number."
"Heh. Yeah, well, it seemed like more of a barrier when I was visiting Ron and you were there, older and wiser and untouchable. Besides, I heard that Angelina Johnson's parents were making an offer and..."
"They did. Angelina is... not my type, you know? It drove mum mental, but I was happy to wait and decline as many offers as I needed to before I found the right person."
"And that's me?"
"That's you."
Charlie's hand was back on his face, and Harry smiled softly. Keeping his eyes on Charlie's, Harry tipped his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Charlie's palm. Despite her batty exterior, Seer Trelawney was usually right about betrothals. Although, she was wrong just enough for there to be horror stories that made everyone nervous. But perhaps with Charlie, she had got it more than right. Perhaps she had got it spot-on perfect.
"What are you thinking about?"
Flirting wasn't Harry's strong point. In fact, beyond a few fumbles and kisses with people at school, none of this was Harry's forte. But he tried to make his voice sound cheeky and sultry as he answered, "You, and the fun of a betrothal."
"And trust me, Harry, it will be fun."
Harry had used up his flirting abilities, so he was struggling for a response to Charlie that wouldn't make him sound like a pillock or a child. Luckily, he was saved the strenuous mental activity when Charlie leant forwards and pressed his lips to Harry's, effectively wiping out all of Harry's higher brain functions, and leaving the single thought GUH flashing through Harry's mind. Opening his lips obligingly when Charlie's tongue swept over them, Harry leaned back slowly, pulling Charlie down on top of him along the foot of the bed. Holding onto Charlie's arm, feeling the muscles working to keep Charlie supported over Harry, Harry buried his other hand in Charlie's hair. As Charlie's tongue twined around his own, Harry decided that he couldn't wait for the marriage to happen.
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
Snapping his head up as something cracked against the window, Harry put down the stack of papers and stood up. Pulling back the curtains he peered down, smiling when he saw Charlie staring up at him. It had been too long since he had seen Charlie - not since the day of his eighteenth party - and Harry fumbled the latches in his desperation to get the windows open.
Finally pushing the panel of glass up in its frame, Harry leaned out and grinned. "What are you doing here?"
"I had to see you."
"You can't, it's tradition. No seeing, no speaking, and definitely no kissing until the ceremony next week."
Jumping up and clinging onto the drainpipe, Charlie began shimmying up the side of the house. "Sod tradition, as if I could stay at home after your last letter."
Blushing, Harry opened the window higher and stepped back. Tradition stated they could not see each other from the day of the younger partner turning eighteen to the day of the marriage, and Harry hadn't realised quite how hard that would be. Their last kiss had turned hot and heavy, interrupted by a knock on the door and an admonishment to get downstairs and charm his guests, but Harry could still remember the way Charlie's lips had felt trailing over his stomach, promising so much more if only they hadn't been interrupted.
Letters were allowed, however, and they had been making good use of that proviso. They'd got to know each other well over the past month through the missives, and Harry had followed Charlie's lead in the later letters, trying his hand at writing down some of the things that kept him up and sweating at night. His last letter had detailed the furtive research he'd been doing in the library, using the books that his parents thought he didn't know about, and his plans to put his newly-learned skills to test on Charlie.
Charlie tumbled in through the window in a less than graceful heap, but still looking adorable as he stood up and pushed the window closed. Letters were one thing, but stood in front of Charlie, some of Harry's nerves and insecurities returned. Clearly Charlie saw that, because the predatory look in his eyes softened for a moment, and he stepped close to Harry. "I haven't been this excited about anything in a long time." Charlie backed up his words with a soft kiss, holding Harry loosely and backing him slowly towards the bed.
Harry let himself be pushed along until the frame was pressing into the backs of his knees before he pulled back and gave Charlie a mock-scowl. "Now this is definitely against tradition."
Charlie chuckled softly as he pressed his lips along Harry's neck, and Harry leaned into the touch. The ceremony was in less than a week, and things were moving fast. The wedding would be held at Weasley Manor, and a carriage would take them from the reception to the smart little house they'd be living in. Harry had already seen it a few times, picturesque and white, set in sprawling grounds with its own stables. Harry's belongings would be moved there during the ceremony and reception, all ready for him to take up his new life. Between the excitement and nerves, Harry was also taking a small amount of joy from the jealous looks he got from every single person he passed in town.
"What are you thinking about?"
"That everyone in this town hates me for stealing you away." Harry grinned to show that he was joking, but Charlie still looked a little worried. "Really, I'm fine. Just a little nervous."
"I'm nervous too. We only have four crates of sherry, and Seer Trelawney is coming to the wedding."
Laughing out loud, Harry smacked Charlie gently on the arm. "Who invited her?"
"Mum and Dad. They had to; she did get this prediction pretty spot on."
"I suppose. But maybe get another crate or two in." Folding one leg up behind him Harry sat down on the bed and pulled Charlie down next to him. "She creeps me out."
Lying down on the bed and kicking his shoes off, Charlie pulled Harry down and pushed his hair off his face. "Why?"
Harry had only found out by accident, looking through books he knew he shouldn't look through, but his parents had sworn him to secrecy. Every prophecy that Seer Trelawney had ever made was recorded down and kept in the private section of the town library. On a dare, Harry had broken in and stolen the book, teenage hi-jinxs that backfired when he saw his name on one of the pages.
But, Charlie was his husband to be, and the foundation of marriage was no secret. "She gave a prophecy about me when my Mum was pregnant with me, that I would have an enemy who would scar me for life, almost kill me, and that I might not survive him."
Charlie sucked in a breath through his teeth and Harry wished he'd kept quiet. His mum and dad had been furious when they found the book under his mattress, and had made him return it and apologise to the town's record keeper. As Charlie's fingers ran up to run over the small scar on his forehead, harry laughed gently. "I lost a fight with a coffee table, you know that."
"Yeah, I know. But still, I thought she kept her prophecies to births and marriages."
"She does. With the occasional horror story. It's no big deal. Besides, if she comes, there'll be that many people congratulating her on her successful prophecy that we'll be able to slip out unnoticed."
"That's very hopeful of you, Harry. And nice; I was planning to just up and leave with no explanation."
Harry rolled forwards and pressed his lips against Charlie's, laughing softly. Charlie's arms were wrapped around his waist and Harry moaned as he was rolled back and Charlie slipped on top of him. Harry knew he should stop this, remind Charlie that if they were caught they'd be in trouble for shamelessly flouting all the traditions that the rest of the world abided by, but his lips were busy kissing, and chastising was the last thing he wanted to do. Besides, a few little kisses couldn't hurt.
Charlie's kisses trailed down his jawbone, making Harry shiver as Charlie nipped his earlobe, Charlie's thigh pressing between his legs. "I've been thinking about your last letter all week. Do you feel what it's done to me?"
Harry was about to answer that he didn't know but Charlie's leg shifted slightly, and Harry was suddenly enlightened. Stammering, Harry coloured up as Charlie's chuckles reverberated over his skin.
"I could always leave."
"Let's not get hasty," Harry managed a grin, trying to work out where to put his hands. They suddenly seemed too big and clunky, and Harry hoped Charlie wouldn't look down and notice his abnormal extremities. "You've already risked rain and heartbreak on our wedding day by seeing me, so you might as well stay."
"And be hung for a lion not a lamb? I like your thinking, Harry."
Smiling tightly, Harry shifted a little on the bed, freezing when Charlie twitched and moaned. Harry had inadvertently brushed his leg over the bulge in Charlie's trousers, and very carefully he did it again. Grinning and pressing his lips to Charlie's cheek, Harry reached his hand down and brushed his fingers over Charlie's groin. "How about this thinking?"
"Very likeable." Charlie shifted down the bed, pushing up Harry's pyjama top and pressing soft kisses across Harry's stomach. "Just as likeable as the rest of you."
Throwing his hands above his head, Harry closed his eyes and hummed softly. He was expecting Charlie to resume kissing, and opened his eyes again when he felt the bed shifting and there were no more kisses. "What?"
"You were right. This is breaking tradition."
Pouting, Harry sat up and took Charlie's hand in his. "So you climb up the drainpipe, rile me up, and then leave?"
"It's the debonair way," Charlie teased, bringing Harry's hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. "Besides, it's only a week to wait."
"I suppose." Harry stood up and pulled Charlie up with him, heading over to the window and leaning out. He let Charlie pull him back in and leaned up, kissing Charlie softly. "Go on then, get home. I'll see you next week."
"Don't find someone new while I'm gone," Charlie threw up as he clambered out of the window and grabbed a hold of the drainpipe.
"I'll try not to," Harry teased back, leaning right out of the window to watch Charlie shimmy down the drain pipe. As Charlie waved up at him Harry blew a kiss down, smiling softly and watching Charlie walking away until he was enveloped by the darkness. Next week couldn't come fast enough.
♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥
Harry could barely keep the smile off his face as he watched people filing into the town church. The women of the village, bustling in their fine clothes and waving handkerchiefs as though this were a farewell, eyes already brimming with tears. The young girls - and some of the boys - casting jealous glances around the church and consoling themselves in carrying whispers that Charlie was only marrying out of respect for the Seer, and nothing would come of the union. Harry was tempted to go out and point out that many girls, and boys, had been offered to Charlie, and he had turned them all down, so doing something he didn't want to do was clearly not in his nature, but he decided life was too short. After all, he had the man.
"What are you peeking at?"
Turning around, Harry worked hard to keep his breath. He didn't want to seem like a silly child, gasping and swooning just because Charlie was in a tuxedo, and looked positively edible. Harry had spent the morning being pushed and pulled by his mother, shoe-horned into a tuxedo that made him look like a penguin before his mother sat down on the bed and sobbed. Harry had been worried, but his father assured him that was perfectly normal behaviour and has shooed Harry out. Sure enough, five minutes later his parents had emerged looking happy, and led him to the waiting carriage.
"Harry?"
"Just looking at all these people."
"Yeah," Charlie peered around the door and shook his head, disbelief colouring his tone. "Mum and Dad invited everyone they've ever passed in the street, I think."
"My parents did the same."
"And here we are, keeping everyone waiting!"
Harry laughed, stepping back and sighing softly. It was unfair, how good Charlie looked in his tuxedo, and how stupid Harry looked in his.
As if reading his mind, Charlie leaned forwards and whispered, "You look stunning. I can't believe how lucky I am, to walk down the aisle with you."
Colouring up, Harry cleared his throat and lifted his gaze, offering a lopsided smile to Charlie. "Shall we?"
"I think we shall." Charlie offered his hand and Harry took it gently, unable to keep the smile off his face as they opened the door and started walking down the aisle.
Laughing a little as the orchestra scrambled to start playing, Harry focused on each step, every move taking him closer to his future.
Friends, we are gathered here today...