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[alt_charlie]

Well. That's over, at least. Judging by the way Bill's reacting -- flipping back and forth between utter horror, and cold and vacant -- it was even worse than we'd expected. He just keeps staring at the wall and

Poppy -- he says he could really use a drink (or "another drink" -- apparently Dolohov took him out right after to answer his questions over a pint, Bill said there might be something useful in there but he couldn't bring himself to talk about it yet). Will it interact or interfere with the potion if I give him a splash? I won't unless you tell me it's all right, and I'm not going to let him pour for himself right now, but if I've ever seen a man in need of a shot, it's him.

All the rest of you -- he's fine, it's over, he's back here at the Burrow, we won't be heading out anywhere else tonight. Mum, Fred, George, we're out back in Dad's the shed -- I conjured a cot and I'm going to try to get him to sleep it off. Don't come back here. Don't come back, don't let Percy or Ginny or Ron come back, as far as you know we're in New London. Trust me.

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Private Message to Charlie

[alt_nymphadora]

How is he? That was an awfully brave thing he did, but- Well. How is he?

And how are you, Mr Faithful Sidekick? Staying up and seeing him through. That can't have been easy.

We're all right here. My blokes are sleeping it off after the moon. I may be going back to McGonagall's, I'm not sure. Depends on Alice and Frank, but I'm home seeing my girl now. She's an early bird, that one. And always sunniest first thing, so it's nice to have that time with her. She'd send a Hiya if she understood about these journals, so you can imagine she's giving you that giant grin of hers and waving at her favourite Uncle Charlie.

Re: Private Message to Charlie

[alt_charlie]

Ta, luv. I don't know how you manage to do it, but you somehow always know when I need to hear happy cheerful things and provide them in spades. Tell Miss Bea hullo from me, and give her a few kisses on account. I'll stop in and make good on them in a few days once things calm down here a bit.

(And, you know, I was just saying to Poppy that Mum seems to be doing a bit better yesterday and today, having Bill to fuss over. Maybe sometime later this week you should drop by for a visit, and bring Little Miss Early Bird along with you. We can maneuver her into Mum's hands and pretend that wasn't our purpose all along.)

I won't lie, last night while I was sitting with him, all I could think about was how they say casting the Dark Arts hurts your soul to do. And watching him pace, and snap at me, and lose his temper at jokes that would have made him laugh two days ago, well. Only the second time in my life I've ever prayed for anything, but I was praying with every bit of me that just being at a nightmare like that wouldn't be enough to do it.

But when he woke up this morning -- afternoon, really -- he was a little better. Quieter, and I still don't like the look in his eye, but a little better. I'm mostly trying to keep him away from Ron and Ginny so he doesn't bite their heads off, since they wouldn't understand. He can take it out on me all he's a mind to, it just rolls right off, but I don't want him saying something to them he'd regret later.

And once this is all done with, and he's back to his usual sunny self, I'll trade in all the favours he's been racking up!

Re: Private Message to Charlie

[alt_nymphadora]

I'll say a prayer for that, too. I think I know what that is, more or less.

Because, Charlie, I know they're not making it up, those people who say Dark Magic changes your soul. It's the one thing I ever agreed with Mr Crouch about. And I've seen it over the years with Barty. He was never nice. I don't mean that. But he wasn't twisted back then. Just cold and unsatisfied with his family. (That was mutual, on his father's part, at least--his mother just wanted Barty to be someone he wasn't, which isn't quite the same.). But then he started learning 'the Arts' (they sat that like it's painting or dancing, you know), and he changed. He got hateful and took to holding grudges that were never cleared, and he got more and more violent. And stealthy about it, too. Every time he'd come home for hols, he was scarier.