Yours truly ; Charlie Weasley

Twenty-nine

When I got off work and I closed up the shop, I went up to the loft and took a shower, seeing as I didn't have energy to take one this morning like I usual do.

Today hadn't been a good day. Why? Well, maybe it's because I've walked around, worrying that Charlie may not come home or that he'll come home, figure out he made a mistake when he came back, and then pack his things and leave again. Or maybe I was simply having a bad day because of the nightmare I had right before waking up this morning.

It wasn't as bad as usual. It wasn't about the war. It was me being chased through the dark forest by Hogwarts by a black shadow with no face.

When I left the bathroom, I had a towel in my hand that I was using to dry my hair. My eyes landed on the person sitting on the table in the kitchen, eyes closed and breathing quite heavily.

"Charlie?" I questioned as I used the towel to wrap around my naked body. He opened his eyes and looked at me, sending me a weak smile, and that's when I saw the long slash on his forearm. Blood was running down his arm, dripping onto both the floor, one of the chairs and the table. "Wha— you are bleeding on my table."

I hurried over to him, gently grabbing the arm to see how bad it was.

"You're worried about me bleeding on the table?" He laughed, studying my face as I watched the slash. It was deep, going through his flesh and muscle.

"You've always done this." I sighed, walking towards the bathroom. "I don't get why you want to work with dragons when you always get hurt."

I grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom and hurried back to Charlie. I pressed the towel to his wound, making him hiss in pain.

"Don't worry my love. I've already forgiven the dragon." He grinned cheekily at me which made me roll my eyes. "Bash gets a little aggressive but he's sweet, really."

"Bash?"

"He's a new dragon. Born a couple of months ago. He grows really fast." He explained. "I've named him Bash. He's a Romanian Longhorn."

Charlie talks about dragons like I talk about babies. I'm pretty sure he sees them as his big fire-spitting babies.

"Hold it." I said. And put pressure on it, alright? I need to find my wand so I can fix it."

Charlie took over from me, pressing the towel to the wound of my forearm.

"Babe, you can take mine." He said. "It's on the counter."

He nodded towards the kitchen counter. His wand was laying there so I decided to use that one instead of mine, seeing as I didn't really know where mine was.

"One day, you're gonna give me a stroke." I said and walked back to him. I gently took the towel and removed it, holding his arm with my left hand while holding the wand with my right. "Ferula."

Bandages shot out of the wand, wrapping around his forearm, and once again he hissed as they tightened around the wound.

"Did that hurt?"

"A little."

"Good."

Charlie's eyes shot up to meet mine and his lips slowly formed into a playful grin.

"You alright today darling?"

"Mhm." I hummed, looking down at the black towel that now had a darker stain on it from the blood.

"Because you seem a tad more feisty than usual." He said, ducking his head to meet my gaze. I cocked an eyebrow at him, looking at his blue eyes without moving my head. "You sure you're alright?"