For Camp Potter. Event: Obstacle Course (CharlieHagrid). Cabin: Lestrange.
At first, it is just because you are lonely. You are lonely, and you sense that he, too, is lonely. And he understands. He understands your fascination with dragons, understands that danger is beauty and that all things are beautiful.
He is your friend, the one you talk to, confide in, and he shows you things. He takes you to see the thestrals — except you can't see them at all — and the hippogriffs and even the centaurs, who don't appreciate being gaped at like zoo animals so you keep your mouth shut and stay behind him.
And when you're older he takes you to see the Acromantulas and for the first time you think that maybe you should be afraid, that perhaps this should be frightening, but it isn't, because he is there and you trust him absolutely to keep you safe from harm.
You aren't really sure when he goes from being your best friend to the person your whole world revolves around, but that, that is a bit frightening for the first time, because you don't quite know how to handle it.
You are almost seventeen and he is timeless, but ancient, with eyes like a child's and you wonder but don't ask how old he really is. Does it matter? Either way you spin it this is wrong, wrong.
You date pretty, bubbly Nymphadora Tonks in an attempt to take your mind off of him but her shape is all wrong and her laugh is all wrong and she bakes you cookies and they are edible and that too feels wrong and it boils down to one thing: not him. And that is the moment you know you are in trouble.
You are a Gryffindor, and that is supposed to mean that you are brave and strong but you are terrified of ending the best friendship you have ever known for a fairytale pipe dream and you won't risk it — not until it won't matter anymore.
So the last day of school you suck it up and you stand up from the chair at his table and cross his kitchen in a few strides and even though he's sitting you have to climb on top of his table to reach. It's undignified but at this point you are so beyond giving a damn. You reach out toward him, your palm dwarfed by his cheek and you kiss him. Hard.
The proportions are all wrong and the angle is awkward and yet it feels more right than kissing Tonks ever did.
You fully expect him to pull away when the shock fades, but… but he is kissing you back and his hand is on your hip and then abruptly you find yourself in his lap and it's better, the angle is far more natural.
Eventually you need to breath, so you break away, lean back. His dark eyes are shining, glimmering at you. You feel your lips curve into a smile but then he shakes his head.
"Charlie, this… this can' happen."
And you know that, you've known that all along, because in less than a month you're taking a Portkey to Romania and you aren't looking back.
But you will miss him, and you tell him that, because he deserves to know.
His hand rests on your shoulder. "I'll be missin' yeh as well, Charlie Weasley."
And you vanish from the cabin. It is the last time the two of you are ever alone together.