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Harry was only half-listening to Ron and Hermione’s discussion about the choices for their wedding breakfast. His attention was instead on Charlie.
The stocky red-head was standing with George, Bill and their ever-fussing mother. Charlie laughed at something George said, though Harry thought the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. Harry could hazard a guess as to the subject.
‘Charlie’s too busy with his dragons.’ It was what everybody said whenever his singleness was brought up.
Bill and Fleur were expecting child number two; Percy and Audrey were almost sickeningly happy; George and Angelina had proudly named their first-born after Fred; Ron and Hermione’s upcoming wedding would be the event of the season; and Ginny had surprised everyone with her engagement to Luna. But Charlie remained single.
Only Molly seemed truly concerned, though various Weasley siblings often offered to help. And Charlie always smiled as he turned down the offers just a little too politely.
Harry thought he, maybe, understood.
The peace of living alone in Grimmauld Place after the war had been a blissful relief. At least at first. Once he’d had some time and therapy to find himself, he started to appreciate the evenings spent at the Leaky Cauldron with his friends, the days spent helping Ron and Hermione decorate their new home, the family dinners at the Burrow. He felt as though he was healing from a wound he hadn’t known he’d had.
But he always dreaded the moment someone would bring it up.
“ There’s a lovely girl who works at the apothecary in Diagon, ” Dean had told him over a pint of beer at the Leaky Cauldron the week before.
Even the memory of it made Harry cringe.
“I can find my own dates, thanks,” Harry had told him with a dismissive laugh.
Dean had raised an unconvinced brow.
“Thanks anyway,” Harry told him, patting him on the shoulder, before turning to talk to Ginny on his other side. Discussing her new job with the Harpies was a less uncomfortable conversation.
“What do you think, Harry?”
Hermione’s question drew his attention back to the present, and when he turned back to his best friends, they were watching him with twin expressions of frustrated amusement.
“Yeah, I know mate,” Ron said sympathetically. “All this wedding stuff makes my mind wander too.”
Harry grinned, chuckling earnestly when Hermione huffed in mock outrage, hitting Ron’s arm with the back of her hand.
“Sorry, I’m listening now,” he promised them, giving them his full attention.
-#-
His third beer of the evening in hand, Harry headed out the back door of the Burrow into the cool, early-autumn air of the garden. He breathed in the fresh air, relishing the moment of peace.
The Burrow had often felt crowded in the days’ Harry had first known the Weasleys. Now it was mad-house, particularly with Victoire loudly protesting the suggestion that she might be tired, waking up baby Fred. Harry was certainly happy to step outside and leave the adults to deal with the wailing children.
“You escaped too, I see.”
Harry turned to smile at Charlie, who was sitting on a rickety bench, which seemed to be held up by the wall of the house.
“Something like that,” Harry said, moving to join him. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the space next to Charlie on the bench.
Charlie grinned. “Of course.”
He shuffled up slightly and Harry took a seat. Sipping at his beer, Harry relished the quiet. It was… companionable. And he trusted Charlie wouldn’t ruin it with date suggestions at least.
“Thanks for not trying to set me up with anyone,” Charlie remarked after a few minutes, echoing his own thoughts.
Harry laughed wryly as he looked over.
“Ditto.”
“You too, hey?” Charlie asked, his expression sympathetic.
Harry shrugged. “I know they’re just trying to help but…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
“You’re not interested?” Charlie suggested, his tone curious.
“I mean, the company might be nice sometimes,” Harry hedged uncertainly, never having tried to put his desires into words. “I just don’t really want…”
He glanced back toward the still open back door, the slowly softening cries of children still audible.
“You don’t have to have kids, you know,” Charlie remarked. “No one can make you.”
Harry turned back to him. “I know.”
“Even if you meet someone,” Charlie went on, “that doesn’t mean you have to be parents.”
“That’s not really what I was talking about,” Harry explained with a nervous laugh. “I mean, I’ve never really given the kid-thing much thought. Not sure I’m exactly parenting material. I think I’m too broken for all that.”
“Broken?” Charlie questioned with obvious concern.
“Yeah. What with everything that happened to me; the shitty childhood stuff, how much the war messed me up. But also…” Harry trailed off again.
Charlie waited patiently for him to find the words.
“I’m supposed to want it, right?” Harry asked, his cheeks flushing despite the cold of the evening. “At least the, you know, making-the-kids part.”
Charlie laughed at that, though not meanly. “You mean sex?”
Harry distracted himself with another deep swig of his beer before meeting Charlie’s eye.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Not necessarily. I don’t,” Charlie informed him bluntly. “The whole thing just sounds… urg.” Charlie shook his head, his nose scrunching. He looked genuinely disgusted by the idea.
Harry found he wasn’t entirely surprised, though he hadn’t expected Charlie to say it so bluntly. It made him wonder if any of the family knew, if he’d told anyone else. But that was a question for another day.
“I don’t completely hate the idea,” Harry told him uncertainly. “I could… do it. But I’ve never really understood the appeal. Ron talks about it like it is the greatest thing ever and I… I just don’t understand.”
“That doesn’t make you broken,” Charlie assured him gently.
Harry scoffed sceptically. “Really?”
“Of course. It’s just who you are. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You’ve already sacrificed more than enough for one lifetime, don’t let anyone push you into anything you don’t want now.”
Charlie’s voice was firm, and Harry found himself smiling despite himself.
“What if I do want to have someone, though?” Harry asked quietly. “What if I don’t want to go home to an empty house for the rest of my life.”
Charlie let out a soft breath next to him and Harry looked up as Charlie shuffled closer, though not quite into his personal space.
“Just because we don’t want what everyone else wants, doesn’t mean we have to be lonely,” Charlie told him. He spread his arms just enough to be an obvious invitation. “We’re allowed to seek comfort, we’re allowed to want love.”
Harry smothered the half-sob that tried to escape him and placed the beer on the grass at his feet before cautiously sliding closer. He leaned into Charlie’s embrace, sighing in relief as those muscular arms wrapped around him.
-#-
Harry wasn’t sure how long he’d been cuddled up with Charlie in the garden, but it was long enough for the kids to have gone quiet. All that could be heard from the house now was a gentle hum of activity and softly spoken conversations.
The calm of it matched Harry’s mood.
Feeling at peace in a way he hadn’t known he’d been missing, Harry was reluctant to end the shared moment any sooner than he absolutely had to. And Charlie didn’t seem in a hurry to escape either if the gentle, absent-minded brush of fingers through his hair was any indication. Still, he knew it was only a matter of time until someone came looking for them and he didn’t want to think about the kind of remarks or suggestions that would earn.
As the wind blustered through the garden once more, Harry shifted, trying to tuck himself in closer to Charlie’s body, seeking warmth.
“Are you alright?” Charlie’s voice was heavy with concern.
Harry just hummed contentedly. “We should probably go back inside,” he suggested quietly, almost hoping Charlie might not hear.
“Cold?” Charlie asked.
“A bit,” Harry admitted reluctantly. “But you’re helping matters.”
Charlie chuckled softly. Releasing his hold, and grasping Harry by the shoulders, he pushed him back gently so as to look him in the eye.
“We could continue this inside, you know.”
Harry blinked at him in surprise. “We can?”
“Sure, why not?” Charlie challenged with an almost childishly excited grin. “I certainly could use more cuddles like that in my life. And you seem to be feeling better.”
“I am. Better than I have in months,” Harry agreed.
“Then perhaps we could make a habit out of this?” Charlie asked hopefully as he got to his feet and held out his hand to Harry.
“I’d like that,” Harry said with a grin, accepting the hand up and nodding.
He could hardly dare to believe his luck as he allowed Charlie to lead him back into the house. And for the first time in a long time, Harry felt not quite so lonely, and perhaps just a little less broken.