Chapter Text
Charlie Weasley was five years old when the twins were born. He didn't remember anything from Percy's birth, but the day Fred and George came into the world was etched into his mind. His father was beside himself with worry. They knew the babies were twins, and though Molly had successfully delivered the first three Weasley children at home with the help of a midwife, Arthur fretted that perhaps twins necessitated a delivery at St. Mungo's.
Bill, helpful and serious even at the age of 7, was tasked with keeping 18-month old Percy happy and quiet. Charlie hid in the stairwell above the landing of his parents' room, watching his father pace and listening to his mother's pained moans. He didn't know what to do, how to be useful. His mother sounded like she was in so much pain. Charlie gripped the banister so hard his knuckles turned white.
After hours, his mother's moans increased in frequency and intensity. Suddenly, there was a new sound - a shrill cry - a baby! Charlie crept a couple of stairs closer, hoping to see his new sibling (oh, please, let it be a sister!), when his mother cried out again and he scrambled back up the steps. A few minutes later, there was another newborn cry. Charlie waited. After what felt like an eternity - but was probably only fifteen minutes, his father stepped out onto the landing, two blanket-wrapped bundles in his arms. He toed the door closed behind him and turned to Charlie, grinning, happy tears still clinging to his eyelashes.
"Your mother is resting," he said, "come say hello to your brothers, Charlie."
"More brothers!?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," Arthur chuckled, "come here. This one is Fred, and this is George."
Charlie stared down at the twins identical red faces. They both stared back, and when Fred blinked at him, it almost looked like a wink.
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It's not accurate to say that the Burrow was quiet before the arrival of Fred and George, but after, it was hard to find even a moment of peace. If the twins weren't crying, Percy was. And as the twins got older and began to toddle around, they seemed to make it their mission in life to torture Percy - stealing his toys and snacks, pulling his hair, throwing clumps of mud at him when he wasn't looking. One winter morning, when Charlie was seven and his mother was once again heavily pregnant, he couldn't stand the noise anymore. While all of his siblings were screaming, crying, or, in the case of Bill, trying to warngle the others and only contributing more to the ruckus, Charlie slipped out of the house and into the garden. He walked away from the house until the noise faded, selected a tree, and sat down next to it, facing out across the downs. In the distance, he could just see smoke rising from the Lovegoods' home.
As he sat there, Charlie took what felt like his first deep breath in two years. It was cold, but he relished the way the ground beneath him leeched the heat away from his body. He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, almost inclined to take a nap there, beneath the gray sky.
After a few minutes, he heard a faint scratching sound, followed by a little grunt. He opened his eyes and turned his head toward the sound, but there was nothing there. He stayed quiet and still, but kept his eyes open as he waited. A few minutes later, he saw the leaves of a nearby shrub rustle and out of the leaves popped a small, potato-shaped face. A gnome!
Charlie had seen them in the garden before, of course. He'd heard his mother rant about how they ate all her turnips the year before, but he had never been so close to one.
It stared straight at him, its beady eyes assessing. When he made no move toward it, it climbed the rest of the way out of its hole beneath the bush and began toddling toward the carrot patch. Charlie watched with fascination as it dug its small fingers into the cold, hard soil with relative ease. It kept digging, until its elbow had disappeared. Suddenly, with a little sound of triumph, it yanked a carrot out of the ground. With a little grin, it picked up the carrot, which was almost as tall as the gnome itself, and waddled back to its little hole, disappearing back into the ground.
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Over the years, it became Charlie's habit to escape the crowded, noisy house to sit in the garden and watch the gnomes. They seemed to recognize that he wasn't inclined to catch them and throw them out of the garden, despite his mother's requests that he do so. Instead, the gnomes ignored him as they went about their business, often grumbling quietly in Gnomish. By the time he left for Hogwarts, Charlie was fairly certain he knew the Gnomish words for "carrot," "turnip," and "cabbage," plus what he was pretty sure were a few choice curses.
The gnomes weren't the only creatures Charlie saw during his solitary sojourns in the garden. More than once, he caught glimpses of sparkly fairie wings. He once even thought he spotted a niffler snuffling through the dirt. But the gnomes were by far the easiest and most entertaining to watch.
Whenever he accompanied his parents on trips to Diagon Alley and they happened to go into Fluorish and Blott's, he would slip down one of the aisles to an alcove under the stairs, where a couple of shelves were labeled "Magical Creatures: Identification, Care, and Pest Removal." He would run his finger along the spines, reading outlandish titles like "Elusive Unicorns: A History of Unicorn Hunting in Europe," "Enchanted Serpents: The Lesser Known Cousins of the Basilisk," and "Magical Pest Removal: A Guide to Common Magical Creatures of British Gardens." This last one featured two full pages on gnomes, describing their preferred places to burrow, preferred foods, rates of population growth, and, of course, how to remove them from a garden.
He was never able to get any of the books, of course. Money was already tight for the Weasleys, and with Voldemort's ongoing activities, the Weasleys often made their trips to Diagon Alley as short as possible. But he mentally catalogued the titles he saw, and flipped through them as quickly as he could.
As Charlie was seated at the breakfast table the day he turned 10, his parents slid a wrapped package across the table to him.
"Happy Birthday, Charlie." Mollysaid.
"We thought you might like these," Arthur added.
Charlie gently unwrapped the package, revealing a box set of three books. He could tell they were slightly used, mostly likely from the used bookstore in Diagon Alley, the Scroll Attic. Despite that, they were in excellent condition. He pulled them gently out of their cardboard home.
The first title was "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." Charlie gasped - he'd stared lovingly at the book many times in Fluorish and Blott's, running his fingers over the illustrations and maps. The second title was also by Newt Scamander: "Magical Menageries: Care and Husbandry." Charlie had never seen it before, but the need to see what the third book was outweighted his desire to immediately start leafing through it.
The last book was by an author he didn't know, Jana Bontodo. Embossed on the cover was a red dragon, wings spread. Beneath the dragon, the title read, "European Dragons: Status and History."
Charlie looked up at his parents, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He flung himself into his mother's arms. She kissed the top of his head.
"I'm assuming you're going to go hide somewhere to read those for the rest of the day?" Molly asked.
He looked down guiltily. That was exactly what he was planning. "Can I, please?"
"Of course," she said. "Just make sure you join us for dinner, I made you a cake."