Chapter Text
The next morning was Saturday. Molly and Arthur had hoped there’d be a chance for a bit for a lie in, but those hopes were dashed shortly after sunrise by soft footsteps approaching their bed.
“Morning, Charlie,” Arthur said after cracking one eye open and spotting his second eldest. “You’re up early.” Normally, he or Molly had to drag him out of bed in time for breakfast.
Charlie sniffled and nodded. Arthur sat up and looked at Charlie. He had dark circles around his eyes and evidence of tears down his cheeks. Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if Charlie hadn’t slept at all.
“Alright, kiddo. Let’s go start breakfast. Let mum have a lie in,” Arthur said. He pulled on a robe and followed Charlie down the stairs to the kitchen.
Charlie set the box with the bunnies in it on the table and sat down.
When Arthur reached the kitchen he immediately started the tea going. It was likely to be a long day. He and Charlie sat in silence until the kettle whistle broke it. “Tea, Charlie?”
“No.”
“Alright. What do you think we should cook this morning? Since you’re the only one up, I think it’s only fair that you get to choose what’s for breakfast.
“Can we have bacon sandwiches?”
“Absolutely. Eggs?”
Charlie wrinkled his nose. Eggs were hit or miss with him. “No. Do you want me to go gather some eggs for the others?”
“That’s alright. Whoever wants eggs can fetch them. Why don’t you grab the bread? I’ll get started on the bacon.”
Twenty minutes later, the food was ready and Charlie and Arther were joined in the kitchen by Bill and Percy. The twins were still sleeping and Molly was getting Ginny and Ron ready for the day. Bill looked tired and Arthur wondered if Charlie had kept him awake.
Charlie kept the box of bunnies on his lap as he nibbled at his food. Percy, who had gone to bed before the bunny conversation happened, looked curiously at the box.
“What’s in there, Charlie?” Percy asked.
Charlie looked down at the box. “Bunnies.”
Percy’s jaw dropped. “You can’t keep them in a box, Charlie! They can’t breathe in there!”
The incredulous look Charlie gave Percy would have been comical if it hadn’t been accompanied by tears filling his eyes.
“They’re already dead, Percy,” Bill supplied helpfully when Charlie put his head down rather than provide clarification.
“Oh,” Percy said, the answer creating more questions than it answered . “But why does Charlie have them in a box?”
Arthur waited a moment to see if Charlie would answer, not liking to speak for him unnecessarily. “We are going to have a funeral for them this morning. Charlie’s keeping them safe until it’s time.”
“Oh. Okay,” Percy replied. He still looked unconvinced, but didn’t ask any further questions.
At that moment, Molly came down the stairs with Ginny and Ron, closely followed by the tell-tale tumbling of Fred and George scrambling to see who could get downstairs first. Molly walked over to Arthur and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, dear. Breakfast smells delicious.”
“Charlie helped me make it,” Arthur replied.
“Thank you, Charlie,” she said, moving to kiss the top of his head. She glanced down and saw the box on his lap, smiling sadly. “I’m going to get the babies fed and then let’s make a plan for the funeral. Does that sound okay, dear?”
Charlie nodded. “Can I go outside?”
“Sure,” she replied. “We’ll meet you out there in a little bit.”
Shortly after Charlie left, Bill went outside to sit with him. “Hey, Charlie,” he said, sitting next to him on the steps.
“Hey, Bill.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Bill felt a nagging guilt sneaking up. It had been hard leaving for school back in September. He knew that Charlie would have a really hard time with that change.
He knew his family would struggle, too. He’d taken it upon himself long ago to make sure Charlie was always happy, always okay. This meant really figuring out what Charlie wanted or needed and making that happen. His mum had a harder time understanding Charlie, but it wasn’t always easy for his dad either. So being around to help them understand was something Bill thought was really important.
That’s not where the guilt was bubbling up from, though. It was because he missed school. He wished he was there now, not planning a rabbit funeral. Stepping back into the pressure of reading Charlie’s mind and then translating was hard.
Charlie interrupted Bill’s guilt spiral. “I saw a porlock in the orchard yesterday.”
Bill blinked back to reality. “Really? That’s cool, Charlie,” he answered. “Oh! I keep forgetting to tell you. I found where the bowtruckles like to hang out by the lake. They’re afraid of me but I bet you’ll be best buds with them when you start.” Bill paused, looking thoughtful. “There are strict rules about creatures in the castle though.”
He looked right at Charlie when he said that last bit. Charlie grinned. “I’m sneaky, though. I bet they won’t catch me.” Another pause. “Don’t tell mum I said that.”
“Mum knows how sneaky you are. She knows about more of your creatures than she lets on, you know.”
Charlie, who had been fidgeting with the buttons on his overalls, froze for a moment.
Bill laughed so hard that he almost choked. He could see the wheels turning in Charlie’s head as he inventoried each creature currently and formerly residing illegally within the walls of the Burrow.
“Even the Niffler?”
Bill didn’t even know about that one. He realized he should probably find out what was living in the room he and Charlie now shared. That could wait, though. The door behind them swung open.
Arthur stepped out, joining his two eldest on the steps.
“What would you like for us to do for the service, Charlie? Do you think you’d like to say something?”
“Do I have to?”
“Not if you don’t want to. I’d be happy to say a few words if you’d like.”
Charlie started chewing on his bottom lip. “This is silly.”
Arthur furrowed his brow, looking confused. “What is silly, Charlie?”
“Having a funeral for rabbits. It’s kid stuff. I’m sorry.” Charlie looked miserable. Bill patted his arm and then went inside, leaving his dad to work through this with him.
Arthur didn’t speak for a moment, opting instead to stare across the yard thoughtfully. “Charlie, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. They were your rabbits, and you can decide what you’d like to do with them.”
Charlie nodded. “I don’t know, though.” He glanced at his dad, hoping for guidance. While having a service for the bunnies felt like a great idea the night before, now that his siblings were involved Charlie felt hyper aware of the attention on him. He felt all of a sudden self-conscious, worried that they’d think he was being stupid.
“That’s fine,” Arthur said. “Do you think it’s silly, or are you worried that your siblings will think it’s silly? Because those are two very different things.”
“It is silly, though, isn’t it? They’re just stupid bunnies. It’s not a big deal.”
Arthur was keenly aware that the words coming out of Charlie’s mouth weren’t representative of what he truly felt. Charlie felt things so deeply, and going off of their conversation, it was a big deal to him. He hoped no one had reacted in a way that got him questioning his heart.
“Charlie, were the bunnies important to you?”
A nod.
“Okay. I thought they might have been,” Arthur continued. He thought for a moment. “What if it was just you and I? What if you and I took them down to the orchard and found a lovely place to bury them? Would that be better?”
Charlie was quiet for a bit, before devolving into tears again. He nodded, turning to bury his face in Arthur’s sweater.
“Then we’ll do just that. It’ll give you some privacy to grieve, son.” Arthur held Charlie for another few minutes, until he stopped crying. “Would you like to do that now?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll go inside and let your mum know about the change in plans.” He stood and walked inside, finding Molly supervising the clearing of the table.
“Everything alright out there, dear?” she asked, wincing as Fred dropped a handful of silverware into the sink.
“Everything is just fine. Charlie and I did end up deciding that he and I would go down to the orchard with the bunnies, just the two of us. He doesn’t want it to be a big deal. I think he’s feeling a bit self-conscious.”
Molly pursed her lips. “And he’s sure?” she asked. “It really is no bother for us all to go with.”
“I think it’s just too many people, Molly. He seemed much more at ease when I suggested he and I go alone. We’re going to head down shortly.”
“I understand. We’ll just be here, then. Take as long as you need,” she said. She looked unsure, like she wanted to be there to comfort Charlie, but knew that this would be better for him.
Arthur kissed her forehead and grabbed his jacket. It was still slightly chilly outside, though it would likely heat up quite a bit by the afternoon. Arthur always loved the beginning of summer when the mornings and evenings were cool.
Arthur stepped out into the yard and found Charlie unmoved. He did a quick check to make sure the boy had shoes on before they departed. Charlie had a habit of going barefoot everywhere. He’d stepped on a sharp thorn a few weeks prior, slicing his foot pretty well, and had carried on walking for the rest of the afternoon. It had been quite sore and irritated by the time he returned home. Molly had to flush the wound of dirt before applying the dittany, which Charlie had not enjoyed at all. As badly as she felt causing him pain cleaning the wound, she secretly hoped that he’d learn from the experience.
They stopped by the shed to grab a shovel and started their walk to the orchard. Charlie was quiet for the walk, and Arthur followed his lead. Once they got to the orchard, Charlie started picking up his pace.
“I think maybe we can bury them by where I found them,” he said, pointing to a tree to their left.
“That’s a lovely idea, Charlie. Do you want to start digging or would you like for me to?”
“I can,” he said, reverently handing Arthur the box. Charlie took the shovel and walked over to the tree. He started digging a hole on the opposite side of where their burrow sat empty. Arthur sat down on a stump nearby, setting the box carefully on his lap.
Charlie dug for a good half hour before he deemed it ready. Arthur had offered to help, but he wanted to dig the hole on his own. So Arthur sat patiently. He had to swallow some tears as he watched Charlie, almost painfully proud of his son. Charlie never ceased to amaze him, with his incredible ability to persevere.
The odds were stacked against Charlie, and the struggles of childhood burned much hotter for him. In many ways, he was miles behind his peers. Molly harbored a deep anxiety that Charlie wouldn’t be able to attend Hogwarts. He had only recently gotten the hang of reading, but it was still challenging.
But, in other ways, Charlie was years, even decades, ahead. While he struggled to regulate his own emotions at times, his intuition into other people’s emotions was incredible. The wealth of knowledge he’d gathered about magical and non-magical creatures was astonishing. Just the fact that he’d bottle fed baby bunnies for a week and was now digging a grave for them was far beyond what he’d expect from a ten year old.
Arthur was interrupted by Charlie approaching, looking seriously at him. “Dad, I think it’s ready. Is the hole deep enough?”
They went over to where Charlie had been digging. “Well done, Charlie. It’s perfect.” He handed Charlie the box.
Charlie took it and stood there for a moment. He glanced at his dad, unsure. Arthur nodded at him and Charlie stepped forward before kneeling down and placing the box into the hole. Once that was done, it was clear Charlie wasn’t sure what to do next.
Arthur knelt next to his son and conjured a few flowers, handing one to Charlie. Arthur placed his flower on the box and Charlie followed suit. Charlie had tears streaming down his cheeks when he started pushing some of the freshly dug dirt back into the hole. Together, they got the grave filled again.
“Do you want a minute alone, Charlie?” Arthur asked.
Charlie nodded, shifting to sit cross legged in front of the fresh grave. Arthur pat his back and retreated back to the stump, sitting heavily and watching his son. He watched as Charlie’s shoulders started to shake and his fingers dug into the grass beside him. He watched for any sign of Charlie’s angst being turned inwards, any move to harm himself.
After a few minutes, Charlie stood up and turned towards Arthur. Arthur held his hand out and Charlie ran to grab it, before being pulled into a tight hug by his father. Eventually, Charlie pulled away and smiled. “Thanks, dad,” he said softly, starting to walk back towards the house, closely followed by Arthur.