Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Charlie Weasley, but I could enslave them both happily.

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As soon as Harry opened his eyes again, he saw that he would actually like their new common room. It was in essence just like Gryffindor's. "This is normally the Head Boy and Girl's dorms if both of them are from Gryffindor, a rare occurrence but not so rare that there wasn't one." Charlie—Harry noticed with some wonder— didn't seem to be bothered by Harry's weight. Were Harry in that position, his arms would have gotten tired pretty quickly. The man slowly lay the boy down on the couch.

"There's more we didn't go over, we just wanted to get you out of there before the Minister came and started badgering you. I'm sorry to say that outside of classes and Quidditch, you won't be able to leave these commons, The minister himself is going to put the wards on it. We'll have dinner here in the common, and maybe if no one is paying attention we can bring Ron and Hermione in sometimes." Harry closed his eyes against the heart wrenching pain that hit him at the mere mention of Ron.

"W-will they be able to wake Ron up?" Charlie grew uncomfortable. The man's strong frame seemed to sag. It was at this moment that Harry noticed the fact that he and Charlie would have the exact same build if Charlie didn't have quiet as much muscle. You could definitely tell he had been a seeker. Harry was perhaps a bit envious of the inch of height Charlie had on him, which surely would help him in a Quidditch match when going against Draco Malfoy for the Snitch.

"We don't know," Charlie said, truthfully. Seeing the look on Harry's face, he cleared his throat and said, "But I don't blame you for it, and neither do my parents or Bill or the twins or Ginny. And Hermione definitely doesn't. Dumbledore pointed out a lot of evidence… we all believe you were being possessed no matter what you say. But Harry, I won't lie to you. There was a big fight between Remus and Shacklebolt, because Shacklebolt and a couple other Order members think you were in control, and went over to his side. Remus wanted to see you, and I expect that being a Professor this year, he can see you a lot."

Though this information should have excited him, Harry could only look down. His mind was going through what he had been told. "I won't be able to watch other Quidditch games, or go to any of the feasts, or go to Hogsmeade, or just get out of this castle during nice days." Charlie grew somber. "It's more than I deserve." This made the redhead look up, a bit shocked.

"Harry, you can't tell me that you really believe you meant to do any of that!" Charlie sat down on the couch beside his new charge. "I don't believe it, I won't believe it."

"But I did, Charlie, I did, I can tell. I'm as bad as he is, no, I'm worse, because I attacked my best mate." Harry closed his eyes again and brought a hand to his forehead. A great headache was brewing, and he didn't even think to mention it until the dizziness kicked in. Even then, he didn't think he would deserve any treatment.

Slowly as the silence stretched between them and Charlie looked on in bewilderment and concern, the symptoms grew worse and an extreme pain in his chest followed. As soon as it kicked in in full, Harry's hand shot down and clutched above his heart. "What is it, Harry?"

A familiar voice rang out through his head, but the pain was obscuring it. He seemed angry and commanding, but Harry couldn't hear the commands. "It's Voldemort… he's… telling me to do s-something." And though he knew very well he was still conscious, he faded from the edge of sight and hearing, staring up at the ceiling and unable to do anything but focus on the voice as it became rapidly clearer. Blackness descended upon his vision as he felt himself move after giving no effort to do so.

He tried to speak again, to call out to Charlie to help him, to stop him from moving, because he might do something evil again. All he got in return was what sounded almost like the redhead whispering, "It's alright, Harry. I've got you." Though there was no doubt a lot of time had passed in reality, it felt like only a matter of seconds before Harry came to, a cold sweat covering him and soaking his clothes. His arms were restrained by a strap around his chest, and at his waist, holding him to the bed.

He felt vile rise in his throat and tried to stop himself from throwing up. Somebody got the hint because the straps disappeared and a bucket appeared in his lap. The contents of his stomach—nothing but stomach acid—emptied into the bucket. A comforting hand came to rest on his shoulder and Harry dared to look up in between heaves. The redheaded dragon keeper was looking down on him with sympathy. Somehow this only drove him to resume his prior condition. He didn't deserve pity.

He didn't even deserve this. "We were afraid you were being possessed again," Charlie said loudly over Harry's heaves and the sound of vile flying into the bucket. "So we tied you down until we could figure out if it was you that was going to wake up, or You-Know-Who."

As he wiped his mouth and breathed deeply, Harry managed to yell, "His name is Voldemort," before he resumed. Charlie moved his hand from Harry's shoulder to the back of his neck.

"He's burning up." The feeling of the hand on his neck brought him a little bit of relief for a reason he couldn't explain. A very brief wave of a pleasurable sensation washed over him and chased out the pain and ache in his whole body. He also was able to stop vomiting.

Madam Promfrey's voice replied. "We can't very well give him something for his fever if he's getting rid of it all." She sounded very worried at that point, and Harry felt a pang of guilt for the worry in her voice. He felt like he was making trouble for yet someone else.

"No, it's alright," he said. "I don't… I don't deserve it."

"Shut up," Charlie said, "You're a minor, you don't have any say right now." Harry felt gratitude toward the man for his protective tone and almost was able to smile. Almost.

"My stomach is fine now," he informed her. Something about the way Charlie calmly rubbed at the back of his neck definitely helped him; even the pain in his head didn't feel quite so bad. "It's my headache, and I'm dizzy, very." Before he could gain control of himself he leaned his head back into Charlie's hand. He turned very red when he realized what he'd done, but Charlie didn't even comment, he merely continued. Harry closed his eyes now. When a cold glass bottle met his lips he reached up and took the vial, then downed the potion inside before handing it back.

"It'll take a minute to clear, let's lay him down." Charlie lowered Harry back onto the bed, and Harry opened his eyes. The redhead was looking down on him with worry that almost reminded him of Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you Charlie," Charlie smiled. "Thanks for believing in me."

Maybe, just maybe it was possible he was being possessed by Lord Voldemort when he'd done that. But even if that was the case he didn't know if he could forgive himself, or if anyone else would forgive him, or even if they should. Charlie's hand landed somewhere on Harry's left arm. "I just wish you'd believe in yourself."

Harry closed his eyes again. "Maybe, maybe it's true, what you're saying. But I'd rather it not be. If I was truly insane that night, and gave him my help on purpose, I could guarantee it wouldn't happen again. If he managed to force me to do it then who is to say he couldn't force me to do his dirty work right this minute?"

"I think you're strong enough to fight him this time, and if you're not, you've got me." Harry tried hard to fight the feeling of heat that rose in his face. "Are you getting feverish again?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I'm alright."

Charlie sat on a chair beside Harry's bed. "I didn't get the chance to tell you, there is one feast you're allowed to attend, the Sorting Ceremony. A lot of people will want to see you but things could get bad because some reporter managed to get the story out into the open. Whenever you want to leave, just signal me. I'll be up at the teacher's table. I hope you'll be alright with having to deal with me this year, I tend to talk a lot."

Harry smiled. "It's alright, I like it when you talk," and then he realized what he said, cleared his throat and closed his eyes once more. "I mean, it's just that it got lonely at the Dursleys' house."