Chapter Text
“Hello, dear,” Arthur greeted Molly with a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Charlie? I got this postcard that I thought he’d like.” He pulled a postcard with a Chinese Fireball on it. The ten year old had recently declared that the Fireball was his favorite dragon, though everyone knew that he would change his mind again within a few days. A week ago it had been the Horntail, and the Vipertooth before that. He’d been cycling through them for years now.
“He was in the sitting room, last I saw.” Molly turned back to the stew she had on the stove. Arthur looked towards the couches and saw one of the squashy armchairs lurching a bit, the front legs almost leaving the ground occasionally. He walked forward and peeked around the high back of the chair, finding his second eldest rocking vigorously back and forth. This was generally the chair he gravitated towards as it was the only piece of furniture in the house that didn’t squeak or creak. Arthur stepped back towards the stove.
“A bit restless today, I see. Is that excited energy or anxious energy do you think?”
Molly turned and shrugged. “I honestly couldn’t say, dear. He was out exploring in the orchard most of the day. Came back just a bit ago, and he did seem a little on edge. He’s been in there since getting back. Bill was in there for a little bit but got bored and went to find Percy.” She paused. “He has been very quiet, so either he has snuck something into the house or he is upset about something. I just haven’t had a moment to check in on him.”
Arthur walked back into the sitting room and sat on the couch near Charlie’s chair. Charlie slowed his rocking slightly when he saw Arthur.
“Hi, dad,” he said. He stood up and went to sit next to Arthur, pressed up against his side.
“Hi, son.” Arthur wrapped his arm around Charlie and squeezed him. Charlie was clearly having one of those days where he needed some extra physical comfort. He was beginning to suspect that the earlier rocking was most likely not an indicator of anything good. “What have you been up to today? Mum said you’ve been in the orchard for most of the day. Find anything interesting?”
Charlie shook his head, shifting slightly and leaning his head into Arthur’s chest. He grabbed his dad’s hand and brought it to his head, and Arthur, knowing what he wanted, pressed his son’s head to his chest as tightly as he dared. Asking for head-hugs was yet another sign that Charlie was struggling with something.
Charlie has always desired to be wrapped up tightly, whether in someone’s arms or in a blanket. Molly and Arthur had needed to swaddle him tighter than they had with Bill or would with any of the babies to come in order for him to sleep longer than an hour or two at a time.
They sat quietly for a little bit, until Molly called everyone in for supper. When Arthur started to move away, Charlie grabbed his hand again, putting it back where it was on his head. “Does your head hurt, Charlie?” Charlie had always struggled to tell someone when he was hurting and sometimes this was as much of a clue as they would get that something didn’t feel right.
“No.”
“Well, that’s good then. Would you like to tell me what is going on? You seem upset, kiddo.”
Charlie pulled away and looked at Arthur for a moment. “No.” He stood up and walked to the dining room table, briefly shaking his head. Arthur took a deep breath and followed him.
Dinner was as noisy and chaotic as it usually was, with the twins prattling on and on about anything and everything, and then Percy trying to talk over them to talk about the book he’d been reading. Ron babbled in his high chair next to Ginny smearing mushy peas on the tray in front of her. Bill sat next to Charlie and was trying to engage him in conversation but wasn’t having much more luck than Arthur had had in the sitting room. Apart from a few one word answers, Charlie was silent. Bill gave up and began to ask Percy questions about his book. Every once in a while Arthur noticed Charlie’s eyes getting shiny with tears which he would quickly blink away. Molly had noticed as well and shared a look with Arthur, which he responded to with a shrug.
Molly put her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Charlie, honey, you look upset. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Charlie said, pulling his arm away. His eyes were swimming with tears again.
“Dear, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“I’m done. Can I go, please?” Charlie asked, glancing at his mother.
“Yes, dear. Just stay inside, please.” Molly smiled sadly at Charlie and grasped his hand for a moment. Charlie squeezed her hand in return and leaned down to press his head into hers.
So far, Charlie had checked all the boxes that indicated he was having a very difficult time with something. He would occasionally lash out when he got to feeling like this or take his frustration out on himself in ways that scared Molly, but usually this was how it went. It was like he got locked up in his head and couldn’t get out until he’d worked through whatever was bothering him. They had learned over the years that the more they pressed for information from him, the more he retreated. If Charlie wasn’t ready to talk about something, he wouldn’t talk about it. It was as simple as that.
Molly turned her head and snuck a kiss onto his cheek before he had a chance to pull away. She was pleased when she got the reaction she was hoping for- Charlie wrinkled his nose and he gave a quick smile. He then walked back into the sitting room, back to his chair.
Once everyone finished eating and the table was cleared, Arthur pulled Bill aside. They went into the garden. “What’s up, dad?” Bill asked.
“Do you have any idea what is going on with your brother? Did something happen that would have him this upset? Did he say anything to you?”
“He wouldn’t talk to me either. He looked really sad when he came back from the orchard but didn’t want to tell me what happened,” Bill explained. He bit his lip slightly. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Bill. I was just curious. It’s not your job to know everything going on in your brother’s head,” Arthur responded, smiling and ruffling Bill’s hair. “Even though you usually know more than any of us could hope to.”
“I’m his big brother, so I can practically read his mind. It’s just part of being a big brother, I think.” Arthur laughed and led Bill back inside. Arthur was infinitely grateful to have Bill back home for the summer. He could get a read on Charlie better than the rest of them.
After dinner, the family fell into their usual evening routine. They cleared the table, the kids helping as much as they were capable of. Molly has always seen the value of clearing the table the muggle way, as it was a good time for the family to work together at something. After the table was cleared and the dishes set to washing, Arthur put Ron to bed while Molly rocked Ginny to sleep. Once Ginny was asleep and settled in her crib both Molly and Arthur teamed up to put the twins to bed, as it was a two person job on the best nights. Then one or both would tuck Percy in, usually reading him a story or two.
While the rest of the kids were headed to bed, Bill and Charlie were free to entertain themselves and stay up a while longer, as they were the oldest. They usually passed the time reading, playing with Charlie’s collection of toy dragons, or playing wizards chess. They generally lost interest in the actual game and just began smashing each other’s pieces.
Tonight, though, Charlie had snuck up to bed during all the shuffling, leaving Bill to read books on his own. When Molly and Arthur returned downstairs they looked around for the boys. Only finding Bill, Molly asked where Charlie was. “He said he was tired and went to bed,” Bill said, closing his book. “He’s really sad, but I don’t know why.”
“I know he is. We’ll just have to wait until he is ready to talk about it,” Molly said sadly. “Would you like some tea before bed? And a biscuit, perhaps. I baked your favorites this afternoon.” Molly often did this in the evenings, because she didn’t get much quiet time with her two eldest now that the younger children were taking up much of her time. Bill nodded excitedly, throwing the book on the couch next to him and running into the kitchen.
Molly followed Bill into the kitchen. Arthur began to straighten up the usual collection of toys strewn about. He flicked his wand several times before everything was back in its place. Moments later, Bill had finished his bedtime snack and started up the stairs to the room he was sharing with Charlie. Just as he hit the first landing, though, he almost ran square into Charlie. Bill was about to tell him to watch where he was going but then noticed the tears on Charlie’s face. He decided to let it slide and gave his brother a quick hug before moving past him. He glanced over his shoulder, worried, before heading into his bedroom. He would let his parents help Charlie.
Charlie continued down the steps and followed his parents voices into the kitchen. They both turned when they heard him approach. “What’s wrong, Charlie dear? Would you like a biscuit? Tea?” Molly had immediately stood up when she saw Charlie’s tear-streaked face. He shook his head and broke down, sobs wracking his little body, fat tears splashing onto the tiles at his feet. “Oh, Charlie,” Molly soothed, rushing over and wrapping Charlie in her arms.
“They’re dead. I tried to help but they’re dead!” Charlie all but wailed. “I don’t want them to be dead.” Molly rubbed her hands up and down Charlie’s back.
“Honey, who is dead?” Molly asked, leading Charlie towards the couch and sitting him down. Molly and Arthur sat on either side of him. Perhaps he’d had a bad nightmare? His imagination could often be so vivid.
“The baby bunnies. They were so little,” he cried. “I don’t know why they are dead. They were fine yesterday but today they wouldn’t wake up and are dead. I thought they were too cold but they won’t warm up. And they were all alone and scared!”
Molly kisses the side of Charlie’s head. Charlie felt things so deeply. She adored his sensitive soul, but hated seeing him so devastated and broken. She wanted desperately to wrap him up and protect that sensitive little soul, but that would not be fair to him. He needed to be wild and free.
“Oh, Charlie, I am so sorry. I’m sure you did everything you could to help.” Arthur said. “Did this happen in the orchard?”
Charlie nodded. “Their burrow was under the smallest tree. I didn’t check on them until after lunch so now they’re dead. It’s my fault.”
“Sweetheart, this wasn’t your fault. You were not their mother. They must have been sick, honey. Sometimes even mums can’t protect their babies from everything.”
Charlie cried even harder. “They didn’t have a mum! A hawk got her. I tried to stop it but I couldn’t. They were only a few days old, so I’ve been bringing them milk and making sure they were warm and not scared and hidden from predators.”
Molly smiled slightly, planting another kiss on the side of Charlie’s head. She had been wondering where the goats milk had been disappearing to, and where on earth one of the baby’s bottles had gone.
“I’ve been helping them so much. I just wanted them to be okay. I tried so hard. Why do they have to be dead? I don’t want them to be dead.”
“How long have you been taking care of them?” Arthur asked.
“Since Bill got back,” Charlie answered. Molly and Arthur both did the math.
“You kept them alive for a whole week, Charlie. That is amazing! I’m so proud of you,” Molly exclaimed, genuinely in awe of the fact that her ten year old had successfully been mothering orphaned baby bunnies for that long. The boy wouldn’t remember to eat if Molly didn’t put food in front of him, but he could remember to feed baby bunnies twice a day for a week.
They sat quietly for a few more minutes, before Charlie spoke again. “Can I bury them in the garden?”
“Of course, dear. You and your father can go out to the orchard in the morning to get them. I’ll make them up a nice box we can bury them in.” This was far from the first animal funeral they had held in their garden.
“They’re not in the orchard.”
Molly, who had been rubbing Charlie’s back, froze. “Where are they, Charlie? Did you bring them inside?” She tried to Keep her voice even, though the idea of a litter of dead bunnies being hidden in her house wasn’t great.
Charlie stood up and reached into the big pocket on the front of his overalls he hadn’t changed out of. He gently pulled one baby bunny out and tried to hand it to Molly who hesitated slightly. Arthur stuck out his hands. “I’ll take him, son.” Charlie carefully placed the bunny in Arthur’s hands and then repeated this twice more until three tiny baby bunnies lay in Arthur’s hands.
“I’ll fetch a nice box for them, and tomorrow we can have a burial.” Molly hurried off to find a box while Arthur continued to cradle the bunnies. Charlie was chewing on his lip and looking closely at them, sitting next to his father.
“They were so small,” he whispered, tears falling again.
Arthur wished he had a free hand to use to comfort Charlie. “Indeed, they were. They are very lucky they had you to help them after their mum was gone. Without you they would have died a long time ago.”
Charlie nodded, sniffling. Molly returned with a small lidded crate that she had lined with fabric scraps. “Will this do, dear?” she asked Charlie. Charlie started crying again but nodded, reverently putting the bunnies one at a time in the box and closing the lid.
“We will have a lovely burial tomorrow morning. First thing,” Arthur promised. “Right now, however, you need to get some sleep.”
“Okay.” Charlie picked up the box and walked towards the stairs. Molly almost stopped him to have him leave the box downstairs, but Arthur put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. Just a few more hours in the house wouldn’t make enough of a difference to necessitate making Charlie part with them right now.
Molly and Arthur collapsed back onto the couch. They stayed there a while, sitting in comfortable silence.
“Dead rabbits, Arthur,” Molly finally said, shaking her head. “In his pockets.”
Arthur chuckled. This wasn’t the first time Charlie had snuck creatures into the house, and it wouldn’t be the last. It was, however, the first time those creatures were dead. “Yep,” he said.