Post by Charlie Weasley on Dec 22, 2011 22:40:20 GMT -5
His portkey left him exactly where he had stood upteen years ago with his family waiting on the portkey to make their travels to Egypt. It had been so long ago that Charlie could not even remember his age at the time. His eyes peered through the snow covered paths and down the hill and through the field stood his childhood home. Charlie's eyes ran over the height of the building and he smiled at the crooked and magically combined home. The sight felt like a warm welcome, but he knew that the warmer welcome was coming once he made his way to the house. The Burrow was always a place of warmth, and he'd expected nothing less from his Mother and Father or any part of the family. Harry was still questionable. Charlie laughed at his own joke wishing he'd had his older brother to enjoy it with. It was then that cold shook his bones and he tossed his rucksack over his shoulder and headed towards his home.
As he walked he took in the cool air. It was crisp and almost like a burn in his lungs, but he should be used to that - he grew up here. Had the warmth of Romania made him a weaker man? His mother would be pleased, of course. He'd gotten home nearly a week early, but he had extra vacation time, and he knew he needed to take it soon. She would also be pleased that his hair had been cut a bit shorter. New scars and burns would be a disappointment, but he'd survive that disappointment. If things went well, he might even tell his mother about his consideration for retirement. Though that might be a bad idea since he'd had no plan of what he was going to do afterwards.
Pushing the gate open Charlie looked to see the chickens in their coop and the house door closed but seemingly welcoming. Charlie pushed it open and stepped through with a large grin as he dropped his bag and called out, "I'm home." He'd planned on staying in his and Bill's old room when he visited, and he could only hope his mother hadn't decided to keep all the grandchildren so that he might at least have a room. That couch was not comfortable.
As he walked he took in the cool air. It was crisp and almost like a burn in his lungs, but he should be used to that - he grew up here. Had the warmth of Romania made him a weaker man? His mother would be pleased, of course. He'd gotten home nearly a week early, but he had extra vacation time, and he knew he needed to take it soon. She would also be pleased that his hair had been cut a bit shorter. New scars and burns would be a disappointment, but he'd survive that disappointment. If things went well, he might even tell his mother about his consideration for retirement. Though that might be a bad idea since he'd had no plan of what he was going to do afterwards.
Pushing the gate open Charlie looked to see the chickens in their coop and the house door closed but seemingly welcoming. Charlie pushed it open and stepped through with a large grin as he dropped his bag and called out, "I'm home." He'd planned on staying in his and Bill's old room when he visited, and he could only hope his mother hadn't decided to keep all the grandchildren so that he might at least have a room. That couch was not comfortable.
