Rose Among the Thorns

Chapter 1- After the War

The bed creaked slightly as he shifted and sat upright, sweat drenching his body. The air was thick, heavy and still; not even the barest hint of a breeze swayed the sky blue curtains at the sides of his open window. It had been this way for days, with no earth cooling rain in sight. He groped at the nightstand, his fingers closed around his wand, which illuminated immediately. The small clock on the opposite wall read 6:30. At this rate there would be no chance of returning to sleep, so he sighed heavily and stood, stretched his arms and padded softly to the bathroom, so much for sleeping in on his day off. Twenty minutes and one cold shower later, Charlie Weasley emerged from his bathroom, clad in a pair of red plaid Bermuda shorts and tugging a bright orange Chudley Cannon's shirt over his head. After spending two hours flipping through last month's Which Broomstick? he stood, and with a slight twist of his waist he Apparated east to Ottery St. Catchpole, hoping futilely that it would be cooler there.

*******

Molly Weasley stood over a large basket of freshly laundered robes lying on her kitchen table when her second eldest son Apparated in the back garden.

"Thank Merlin it's cooler here than in Cardiff," he muttered as he thumped down at the table and helped himself to a thick slice of warm toast. After the War he decided to move back to England, settling in Cardiff to work at a Welsh Green reserve nearby.

"We heard that on the Wireless last night. If you want, we've got plenty of room now that you've all moved out. You could stay for a few nights until it cools down," Molly said hopefully as she folded a set of neon WWW robes.

Charlie smiled inwardly. Empty nesting definitely did not suit his mother. "It's alright, mum. It'll probably blow over in a couple of days."

After a moment of looking slightly crestfallen, Mrs. Weasley brightened again. "At least you can stay for supper. The twins, Ginny, Harry and Hermione are coming as well. She finished folding the laundry and bustled quickly to the sitting room, returning with a quill, ink, and parchment. "If I get these owls out right now, I might be able to persuade Bill and Fleur and possibly even Remus to come as well. I'm sure little Teddy would love to play with Victoire."

As she busied herself with dinner invitations, Charlie excused himself to leave. While he was near, he might as well visit the twins in Diagon Alley. Anyways, it was the best excuse he could think of to safely escape the Burrow without his mother thinking of some "minor" repairs needing done that would in fact take the better part of the day to finish.

After a long discussion about manticores with Hagrid in the Leaky Cauldron, he made his way to his younger brothers' shop in Diagon Alley. After the War, they had expanded to Hogsmeade and Dublin, and were now gearing up for the grand opening of their new branch in Manchester. Charlie shook his head. Leave it to those two to surprise them all and become more ambitious than Percy. There it was, the flagship store, the most garish and ostentatious shop in all of Wizarding London. Bright and colorful signs covered the windows advertising their most successful products. As always, there was a small crowd milling about outside, forcing Charlie to squeeze through to the doors that had been thrown wide open to accommodate all of the customers.

"Morning, Verity," he called to the familiar young witch. "Where are those devils at?"

Verity grinned. "George is in the workshop upstairs, and Fred's in Manchester double checking that branch's stock for opening day. How's the Welsh Green Business going?"

"On fire, as always," he returned as he moved behind the counter and passed a sign reading "Enter on Pain of Losing Valuable Extremeties" and mounted the stairs to the second level where the twin's flat and workshop were located. Another sign bearing a large red circle with a line drawn diagonally across it reading "Dangerous Substances Within: Please Knock Before Entering" was posted on the workshop door. Charlie grinned again and pounded his large fist on the door.

After a few moments, George shouted, "Whatever it is, Verity, it can wait. I'm a bit busy at the mo'."

"But George, I can't wait, If I don't make passionate, sweaty love to you I'll have to find Fred to do the deed," Charlie answered in a high-pitched, feminine mimic of Verity.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion behind the door. Seconds later, a black-faced, eyebrow singed, tousle-haired George opened the door. Charlie roared with laughter.

"Damn you, Charlie, that wasn't bloody funny," he grumbled to his brother's bent double form. After a minute Charlie finally settled down enough to catch a few gasping breaths and wipe away the tears streaming down his face.

"Fancy going to the Cauldron for lunch?" Charlie managed to ask between deep and somewhat calming breaths.

"Let me at least clean myself up," George said, waving his wand over his face, removing the black soot covering his face. "Now I look presentable."

"Even with your eyebrows missing?"

"It wouldn't be the first time Fred or I've gone down the street without them."

Charlie shrugged. "Suit yourself." They clambered down the stairs into the sales floor crowd.

"I'll be back after a bit," George shouted across the room at Verity.

She winked back cheekily. "Take your time."

George colored slightly as they entered Diagon Alley and turned his head away from his elder brother, pretending to look interested in Flourish and Blott's window display.

"So what're you waiting on, ask her out," Charlie said casually.

George snorted. " Right, like I hadn't thought of that before. Really Charlie, you're like Trelawney, you are."

The good-natured ribbing continued throughout their lunch until they parted ways. Afterwards Charlie browsed through Quality Quiddich Supplies and Magical Menagerie before heading to St. Mungo's. While he was in town, he might as well visit.

*******

Upon reaching the fourth floor he was greeted by a Mediwitch attempting to soothe one Gilderoy Lockhart.

"There, there, dearie. I'm sure Gladys didn't mean to forget to write you this week," she said, simultaneously patting the sulking Lockhart on the arm and steering him to his bed. "Oh, good afternoon Mr. Weasley."

Charlie smiled and waved in return. "Afternoon, Margaret." He made his way down the aisle past several witches and wizards, many either staring at the ceiling and walls or muttering to themselves. Near the end of the ward Charlie found the bed he was looking for. The patient lay still with his eyes closed, unseeing, unfeeling. The only sign of life was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Charlie pulled up a chair next to the patient's head and pulled his hand into his own.

"So how've you been, Ron?"

*******