Fifteen Years Later: Afterthought
Title: Fifteen Years Later: Afterthought
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows & Previous Chapters
Characters: Charlie, Aberforth, Luna, Molly/Arthur
Rating: R for mild language and intoxication
Summary: Not everyone can have a Norman Rockwell Christmas
Notes: The continuation of the previous chapter, although it seemed separate enough that I could put it as a new title. The fact that it was posted over a week later has something to do with that, as well. Any errors can be attributed to my diseased body. I don’t own these characters. They belong to JK Rowling.
The OBHWF Christmas Special / Previous Chapters / A Fair Read
Pop
Charlie Weasley had prepared himself for the fall as soon as he Disapparated from Diagon Alley. One of the many things you were taught in Apparation lessons was to prepare for your environment. You had to be sure that your body wouldn’t Apparate itself into the middle of a tree, a wall, or, in some horrible cases, a person. This was especially true in the winter, when snow could alter your destination by a quarter inch or by three feet.
“Snow may appear harmless,” Charlie remembered Wilkie Twycross explaining all those years ago, “but Apparating into it would be the equivalent of injecting your bloodstream with two or three cups of impure water. It’s not exactly healthy, and may require Healer attention to rebalance your body’s systems.”
So it was that Charlie dropped two feet into the snow in front of The Three Broomsticks. Re-adjusting his coat around him, he took a few steps towards the building, which was vibrating with the sounds of music and laughter from within, before he noticed a sign hanging on the door:
THE THREE BROOMSTICKS
will be closed on
Christmas Eve at 5 pm
for a private function
We will re-open on Dec 26th
Happy Holidays!
Charlie snorted. “Just like Leaky,” he said quietly. “Guess not everyone’s the solemn Christmas Eve type, and they want to get as much money out of the evening as they can.”
Sure enough, as he glanced into the window, he saw the room filled to the brim with festive wizards and witches downing their share of whiskies, ales, and exotic drinks. Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the Broomsticks, was traipsing about like the world was her oyster, showing off her cleavage, still quite ample in her slowly advancing age, to any wizards who seemed like they’d give her an extra tip for the trouble.
“Lord, they’re partying like it’s the New Year,” Charlie said to himself as he walked away.
And when did you get so old that that started to be a bad thing? he thought as he continued on to the next pub. Roaring to the late hours, getting pissed with your mates, acting like nothing mattered but the bottom of the glass, the witch next to you, and the hangover the next morning that somehow made it all worth it?
He couldn’t find an answer to that question as he walked down the street, absently rubbing the back of his head (hey, feel that, is that a bald spot?) as the echo of the Christmas celebration fell behind him.
At last he came upon a quiet secluded spot. One that he knew well, and one that he knew would do nothing to raise his spirits.
He pushed open the door, and the smell of goats hit him immediately.
“Evenin, Weasley.”
“Hey, Ab,” said Charlie as he pulled his coat off, hanging it on the rack before approaching the bar.
“Didn’t expect to see any of you lot here,” Aberforth Dumbledore muttered, absently cleaning a glass. “Ain’t you supposed to be with your family tonight?”
”I’d rather drink than talk about it,” Charlie said, plopping himself down on a stool. “I’ll take a couple fingers.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Whatever you want to get rid of,” Charlie said, slapping two Galleons on the bar. “I’ll narrow it down as I go.”
“Suit yerself,” Aberforth said, turning to the back wall of the bar and pulling down a nearly empty bottle of orange liquid. Flipping over a shot glass, he poured a small amount before sliding it over to Charlie.
“Sure you don’t wanna talk about nothing, Weasley?” Aberforth asked.
“Not in particular, no,” Charlie replied, downing the drink in one slug and motioning the brother of Albus Dumbledore to give him another.
“Well, that’s good,” said Aberforth, refilling the glass. “I don’t think much of anyone in here is particularly in a talkin’ mood tonight, myself included.”
Charlie looked around. The Hog’s Head was mostly empty, except for two or three bodies slung into the far corners. Charlie realized that he recognized more than one of them from other occasions in the bar, and wondered if they ever left. Where they’d go. If they had anyone to go to.
“Christmas does that to some people,” said Charlie. Aberforth nodded in assent, poured Charlie a pint, and then returned to the far end to wipe dirty glasses with an even dirtier towel.
Charlie realized after a few sips that he should probably slow down a bit. It had been a while since he had taken two shots in such quick succession, and his metabolism wasn’t quite what it used to be. He sat quietly, nursing the pint, staring at his face in the foggy mirror which hung behind the bar. Tried his best to keep his mind from asking the hard questions, from delving too deep into what his life was becoming.
Maybe I shouldn’t slow down after all, he thought. Might make the rest of the night go smoother.
He heard the front door creak open, breezing by a small hanger that used to hold a bell that had fallen off years ago, now matching the general disrepair of the pub. Heard the door close, a pair of footsteps approaching the bar. The slight squeak of the stool as someone sat down. The blurry silhouette in the mirror beside his own reflection.
“Hello, Charles.”
Charlie pulled his eyes away from the mirror and turned to his partner. Medium height, pale blond hair, misty eyes now hidden behind glasses that more and more of them seemed to need as they grew older.
“Hey, Lovegood,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be touring the world?”
“We arrived home this morning,” said Luna. “Another near miss on our quest.”
“Doesn’t it always happen that way?” Charlie said with a snort, taking another sip. “So you just got home this morning?”
“Yes, it was a rather nice trip home,” she replied, just as light and far off as she had been at Bill’s wedding fifteen years ago.
“And this is one of your first stops?” he continued. “On Christmas Eve?”
“Of course,” said Luna. “I always try to visit Aberforth when I am in town. Especially now. He’s lonely. He misses Ariana and Professor Dumbledore. They loved Christmas.”
“He told you all this, did he?” asked Charlie. “Ab’s never been the sort to open up to many.”
“He didn’t have to tell me,” said Luna. “I just know.”
“Of course you do…”
“Besides,” she continued conversationally, “I find it difficult to find others who wish to spend Christmas with me.”
“Well, that’s not true,” said Charlie, suddenly finding that, despite the fact that he was looking for a quiet night with a drink, he found himself trying to comfort one his baby sister’s friend, someone he had only met a few times at weddings. “There’s Xeno, isn’t there? And all of your friends? Ginny and them?”
“Oh, of course,” Luna said. “I will of course see Ginny and Harry and Neville and the others soon. But I cannot see them tonight and tomorrow for the same reason that you’re sitting here with me.”
“They all have their own families now,” Charlie answered without being asked. “They all have their own lives. We just get left behind.”
“I do not wish to interrupt their Christmas,” Luna continued. “It’s a special time for the children, and I do not want to take that away from them. And Neville and Uriela are staying at Hogwarts until the New Year, so I cannot see them, either.”
“Yeah,” Charlie muttered. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“A cranberry juice would be quite nice,” said Luna. “I am on my period, and it is a natural diuretic.”
Charlie cleared his throat nervously. “Um, right,” he said, remembering the honest conversation the woman showed during the night James was born. He turned to Aberforth. “Hey, Ab. Cranberry juice?”
“Whatever you say,” said Aberforth sullenly, nodding in Luna’s direction. “Lovegood.”
“Hello, Aberforth,” said Luna. Dumbledore slid Luna a small glass of the red juice and returned to his lost cleaning cause. She took a small sip. “This is quite good,” she said. “Thank you, Charles.”
“No problem.”
“As for my father,” she said, and Charlie had to push his slowly hazing mind back to realize she was continuing the old conversation, “he does not celebrate Christmas anymore.”
“Really?” said Charlie. “He seems… well, I don’t know what kind of type he seems like, I guess.”
“He used to love Christmas,” Luna continued. “When I was a child he and my mother would decorate the house.”
“That would be something to see,” Charles said, smiling despite himself. He barely knew Xenophilius Lovegood in person, but from what he had seen from a distance, read in The Quibbler, and from what Ron and the others had said about the Lovegood estate, he didn’t think his imagination could even comprehend what Xeno would consider Christmas decorations.
“They were quite lovely,” Luna said in her misty voice. “But after Mother died, Father found it quite difficult to continue the celebrations.”
“I could see how that would happen,” Charlie said.
“He says that he does not understand why we should celebrate the birth of Jesus. He says that Muggles may see him as a man of miracles, but Father believes that he was nothing more than an average wizard, like the rest of us. That any one of us could claim to be the Son of God and get away with it with one simple Wingardium Leviosa.
“I can see where he stands, of course,” she continued after Charlie was struck into silence. “However, I do disagree with him. Jesus performed many spells that defy even the most powerful wizards and witches of our day.”
“Do you consider them spells?” Charlie asked.
“I do not know,” said Luna. “That is why I think he is so fascinating. They say he walked on water when even Dumbledore had to swim to reach the cave. He raised people from the dead, but when he did they were pure and whole. Not a ghost, not a shadow like the Resurrection Stone, and not an Inferi.
“Besides that,” she continued, “he seems like he was such a good wizard. A pure wizard. If he was a wizard, he used his magic to feed thousands. To try to bring the people of the world together, even if they often misinterpret what he said. I believe that’s why we celebrate his birthday. We don’t know what he was, but we do know that he was great.”
Charlie chuckled and shook his head. “I never really think about it, I guess,” he said. “Any one of us could walk into a Muggle church, Muggle synagogue, Muggle mosque, and we’d be attacked or killed for what we can do. Or, you know, they could try to kill us. We’d be called heretics, or demons, or whatever. Yet we continue to celebrate their religious holidays like they’re ours.”
“Because they are ours,” Luna replied. “We’re all the same people. We marry and have funerals in the same churches, we read the same religious texts, and we can all sit down during this time of year, or during other holidays, and celebrate what we have and remember those we’ve lost. You don’t need magic to do that.”
Charlie nodded and glanced down to the end of the bar. Watched Aberforth Dumbledore as he cleaned his dirty glasses on Christmas Eve night. His brother gone, his sister’s portrait her only remnant. He thought of earlier in the night, at Mum and Dad’s, the touch of sadness that would occasionally break through their faces, even years later, as they watched their grandson run around the house with the others. Little Fred, a mirror image of his namesake.
He thought of Andromeda, and how, when she thought that no one was looking, her smile would break for just a moment, showing the true sadness she was still feeling. How even now she would just absently touch her grandson’s shoulder, especially when his hair turned purple or pink, his mother’s favorite color.
Just another reminder of who was gone.
“It’s tough,” he said, taking another sip. “It’s tough to celebrate when you can’t share everyone’s happiness.”
“I do share it,” said Luna. “It just becomes a different kind of happiness. You have to be happy that you are still alive. That you have made it through another year, and that you continue to live with the memory of those who are no longer with us.”
“Yeah, right,” Charlie muttered.
“It can be hard,” Luna said, taking a sip of her juice. “It can be hard to believe that things will get better. But they do.”
“I hope so,” said Charlie. “So no boyfriend to spend Christmas with, either? I suppose with you being on the road so often…”
“No boyfriend,” said Luna. “My girlfriend and I broke up recently, so I do not have anyone significant in my life right now.”
“Oh, yeah,” Charlie said. “I forgot you go that way.”
“That is alright.”
“Just remind me later,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “If I get too pissed and start trying to flirt with you.”
“I will not mind,” said Luna. “I do enjoy men, as well. And you are quite attractive.”
“Thanks,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “I don’t get that very often in my old age. But you’re my sister’s age. Hopefully remembering that will slow me down.”
“I do not think you are old,” said Luna. “And you do not have a girlfriend, either. Or a boyfriend.”
It wasn’t a question. “Why else do you think I’m here?” Charlie said, lifting his glass. “I’d like a propose a toast to those who have been left behind.”
Luna lifted her glass, but as it connected to Charlie’s she gave him a confused look. “I do not understand,” she said.
“That’s us, love,” Charlie said, downing the rest of his drink and motioning for another. “The ones who get left behind while the others find their lives. We’re the forgotten ones. The afterthoughts.”
“I did not know that we were forgotten,” said Luna. “Has someone forgotten you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
“I do not think that is necessarily correct.”
“Isn’t it?” Charlie said as Aberforth poured him another drink. “As all of my brothers and sisters go off and find their true happiness, give Mum and Dad loads of squirming grandchildren, I’ve become the doddering old lady with a houseful of cats.”
“But you do not have cats,” said Luna. “You have dragons. They’re much nicer to have around than cats.”
“I’ve been living in Romania for over twenty years,” Charlie continued. “In all of that time I’ve seen my parents… I don’t know, maybe ten times? Outside of weddings, I could count the number of times I’ve seen my sibs on one hand. They can’t always afford to visit me; I can’t always afford to visit them. I get it. But in that time I’ve become…”
“An afterthought,” Luna said.
“It feels like it,” said Charlie. “And that was even before the grandkids started showing up. Now every Weasley get-together is ‘Ooh, Bill’s girls are getting so big!’ and ‘My, aren’t Percy and Penelope such a nice couple?’ and ‘Oh, doesn’t Lily look just like her mother!’ I’m the only one who isn’t married. I’m the only one without children. I’m not even in their field of vision anymore. Harry and Hermione have always been closer to them than I’ve been. Lovegood, I swear, even Teddy’s become more of a Weasley than I am.”
Luna remained silent, and Charlie took that as a signal to continue his tirade.
“You know where I was when the Battle of Hogwarts started?” he asked. “At home. Stitching my knickers after one of the Ironbellies clawed a whole through them that morning. I didn’t even know there was anything going on until Andromeda Flooed me, completely out of her gourd because Dora ran off a half hour ago, leaving Teddy behind. She couldn’t think of anyone else to call, and she knew that Mum and Dad hadn’t contacted me. Which, of course, they hadn’t.”
“That night was difficult for many people,” said Luna. “The only way that people heard about it was through others…”
“I wasn’t there for them,” Charlie snapped, slamming his fist on the bar. “I wasn’t there for… I wasn’t there for Fred, or… I wasn’t there for them, after…”
“But you were,” said Luna, putting her hand on his shoulder. “That is what matters in the end. You were there for them, although you were only there in spirit after Fred died. And your mother and father did not contact anyone. Fred, George, and Ginny were contacted by Neville. Bill and Fleur came because Dean Thomas and myself told them. You were not left out on purpose, Charles.”
“You know I punched Percy?” Charlie said, lowering his chin to his arms, which were crossed on the bar.
“No, I did not know that…”
“When I first showed up,” he said, “I saw him dueling… well, I don’t know who he was dueling. All I knew was that he was still one of Them. So I punched him. Was ready to hex him, too, but Fleur knocked me back before I could get the words out. I don’t even think she remembered who I was. I was the best man at her wedding, but in the end… ppht.” He waved his hand absently past his forehead.
“Many of us had difficulty that night,” said Luna. “I believe I cast a Bat-Bogey Hex on Susan Bones by mistake. It is not something she wished to talk about later, even after I apologized.”
“Well, once again, I was left out of the loop…”
“You should feel fulfilled,” said Luna. “Ginny and your brothers often spoke of how much they wanted to punch Percival. You should be happy to be the only one to actually do it.”
Charlie let out a quiet laugh despite himself.
“They have not forgotten us,” said Luna calmly. “They remember us, they love us. It may not seem like it sometimes, but that is simply because we are not in their lives as often as we would like to be.”
“Yeah,” Charlie grunted, taking another swig.
“But it is by our choice that we have not been in their lives,” Luna continued. “You chose to move to Romania to be with your dragons. I chose to end my relationship with Neville because I wished to explore the world. We knew that it would be difficult, yet we made our decision anyway. Or would you rather not be in Romania?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “Sometimes I… I just don’t know.”
“Would you like to be a banker?” Luna continued. “Or maybe work at the joke shop?”
“No,” Charlie said with a snort. “Oh, God no.”
“Then you already know the answer,” said Luna.
Charlie looked at her with an arched eyebrow. “I don’t follow…”
“You know what you don’t want,” Luna said. “Which means that you know what you do want.”
“Interesting logic…”
“I am glad to hear you say so,” said Luna as she finished her juice. “Many people have told me that I am quite illogical.”
Tap tap tap.
“Who could that be?” Arthur Weasley asked, sitting up from his chair in front of the fireplace.
“It couldn’t be Charlie,” said Molly, standing up. “He wouldn’t knock.”
The two Weasley grandparents walked to the front hall together and Arthur opened the door.
Indeed, it was their second-eldest, with his arm slung around another’s shoulder.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”
“Hello, Luna,” Arthur said, exchanging a confused look with his wife.
“She gave me a side-along,” Charlie said.
“He was mildly intoxicated when we left the pub,” said Luna. “I did not think he was coherent enough to Apparate.”
“Of course, of course,” Arthur said, stepping aside as Charlie entered, a slight hitch to his gait but otherwise fine.
“Would you like to come in, dear?” Molly asked Luna after a quick glance of mild disapproval at her son.
“No, that is fine,” Luna said. “I should return home. Thank you for the offer, however.”
“Noon tomorrow sound good?” Charlie asked her, which earned him another confused look from his parents.
“Noon tomorrow sounds lovely,” said Luna. “Good night.”
“Good night,” the three Weasleys said, and Luna turned on her heel and walked back down the path as Arthur closed the door behind her and turned to his son.
“Tomorrow at noon?” Arthur asked. “You’re going on a date with Luna Lovegood?”
“Naw, naw,” Charlie said, and Arthur could smell the hint of alcohol on his breath.
“But tomorrow’s Christmas, dear,” said Molly, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “We have plans for the three of us. I was going to make us a lovely dinner, and we so rarely get to see you anymore. I don’t know why you would make a date, especially with someone so much younger than you.”
“It’s not a date,” said Charlie, plopping down in a chair in the drawing room. “Not a date. We’re not going out. She’s coming over here. Her and Xeno both. We tried inviting Ab, too, but he wouldn’t have it.”
“Oh,” said Molly, glancing at Arthur. “Well, that… that sounds lovely, dear.”
“I promise I’ll help out,” said Charlie. “You know I can cook, and I’ll help clean and all of that.”
“No, it’s not that,” said Molly. “The more the merrier, I suppose. I’m just…”
“Well, it’s just a bit unexpected, is all,” said Arthur, and Molly nodded in agreement.
“I know,” Charlie said. “But it’s been years since they’ve had a decent Christmas. Or, well, any Christmas. I don’t even know if Xeno remembers what it’s like anymore.”
He looked at his mother, who gave a reluctant smile of acceptance. Charlie just shrugged.
“And I just don’t like to see anyone left behind.”
The OBHWF Christmas Special / Previous Chapters / A Fair Read