I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to Rowling and WB.A/N:
Hello, everybody! Long time no see. This is a slightly belated birthday present for CorruptedSmile. She wanted something holiday-ish, so I wrote her some Harry/Charlie fluff. Corrupted, I hope you like it.
It was Christmas Eve and the Burrow was shockingly quiet. The Weasleys and their ever expanding brood went to bed a few hours ago. Harry knew he should get some sleep as well, but he was feeling particularly melancholy this evening (not an uncommon mood for the young hero it must be said) and he feared that the melancholy might turn to terror in his sleep. The fire reflected gently in the emerald green eyes, the crackling of the wood the only sound in the room. Or at least, very nearly the only sound. A soft creak of the hinges had Harry slowly looking to the doors.
“I thought you went to bed with the others.”
“You know how it is. All of those bodies in a single bed - it gets a bit cramped.”
Harry smiled softly at the joke.
“You should get some sleep as well, I imagine. Auror training takes a lot out of you.”
Harry hummed absently. “I’ll go in a little while. I’m not quite ready to fight for my piece of the bed with a dozen Weasleys.”
Charlie embraced the younger wizard gently from behind. “I reckon, what with the rest of them all in one bed, we might find a bed of our own, if you think you could handle sharing with a single Weasley for the night.”
A small smile seemed to indicate that the young hero felt that, when it came to bed sharing, a single Weasley might be just right.