A Second Chance

A Second Chance

Charlie Weasley sat at the table of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, smiling at his sister. Ginny was rambling on about her newest boyfriend, Alexander Novikov, a Ravenclaw in her year. Charlie grinned, glad to be back with his family and away from the danger and confusion of the Romanian government.

"Hey, Tonks. You're back!" his sister said happily. "This is my brother, Charlie. We've mentioned him. He was working with dragons in Romania."

Charlie looked over at the young woman in the doorway and his heart moved to a place at around his Adam's apple. He recognized those eyes and that nose. He'd escaped the confusion and danger of the government and run right into the confusion and danger that was her. He knew her. Boy, did he know her. She went to Hogwarts, in the year below him. He'd noticed her. He'd asked around, practically everyone, but he never found out her first name. Merlin curse him if he wasn't going to find out now.

He smiled at her. "Hi, Tonks, you said?" he asked in response to her greeting.

"Yeah. Tonks is my last name. Nymphadora's my first, but don't ever call me that."

Nyphadora, eh? No wonder she goes by Tonks. That's a mouthful.

Used to thinking quickly, Charlie came up with a way to make her remember him.

"Can I call you Dora, then?"

Tonks looked confused and surprised. Charlie wasn't sure if that was good. "Er, sure."

Time to bring out the big guns, Charlie thought, using a phrase his American Muggle-born co-worker in Romania always used. He flashed that smile he knew made girls swoon. She didn't seem to remember him so he went with that.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dora."

She seemed unaffected by the smile. "Likewise."

Charlie sighed inwardly. It was going to be a long night. He saw her attention waver and tried to get it back.

"Hogwarts, right?"

She nodded in a casual manner.

"Gryffindor?"

Another nod. Was there anything he could say to make this girl talk?

"I remember you. You were a year below me. Our Keeper, Kathy O'Neil's, best friend. You used to have shoulder length brown hair back then.

Her eyes widened and she nodded again, but she still didn't say anything.

His mother came in with the food and his thoughts remained on Tonks even as he piled his plate.

Maybe she's surprised I remember her.

Maybe she doesn't remember seeing me around much.

Maybe she doesn't remember me at all.

Whatever the case, Charlie knew one thing.

I remember her.

* * *

Everyday, he saw her, sitting down the bench at the Gryffindor table, talking happily with her friends. He saw her smiling and he wished he could keep her like that. He saw her fall and he wanted to catch her. He saw her drop things, trip over things, and spill things, and he just wanted to help her. He wanted to know her name, her first name, and call her something no one else did. He wanted...something. Anything.

Charlie knew he was popular. He could count the Valentines he got and the anonymous love letters, but he didn't really care.

Charlie could be a smooth operator with any girl, but put him in front of girl he fancied and he froze like a river in February.

That's how it was with her.

He'd seen her with her best friend, Kathy, after Quidditch games and in the common room. Hell, she came to every Quidditch practice they had and watched in the stands.

He couldn't count the number of times he'd resolved to talk to her, only to chicken out at the last minute. Sure, he could dive at breakneck speeds for the Snitch or face Professor Kettleburn's most ferocious creatures in class but he could not face this girl.

The closest he'd ever come to speaking with her had been on the last day of school in his seventh year. He was in the Entrance Hall with swarms of students all around him. He saw her through the crowd and decided to talk to her before it was too late. He made his way towards her and was just about to call her when he found himself sprawled on the floor.

Stephen Bullstrode, a Slytherin in Charlie's year, stood glaring down at him.

"Watch where you're going, Weasley."

Charlie didn't retort. He just got up and looked for her again. But she was already gone.

Hours later as the Hogwarts' Express pulled into King's Cross, Charlie sighed.

It was too late. He'd probably never see her again. He'd wasted his chance.

* * *

Well, here she was again. He was getting a second chance and he wasn't going to waste this one.

From the delicate flush that spread across her cheeks every time she saw him watching her, he could tell she wanted him to take the chance too.

As he headed up to his room later that night, he made a promise to himself.

This time I won't let her get away.