Charlie Weasley wasn’t having a happy Christmas.  He’d returned to England for the holiday only at his older brother’s urging.  For the last several years, he’d had reason to stay in Romania in Elisabeta, but she’d said goodbye to him just before Bill’s wedding.

After another mouthful of Firewhisky, Charlie reckoned that’s what had made him vulnerable.  His new sister-in-law – hell, his only sister-in-law – was beautiful.  She was a good person, too, not just beautiful.  Greyback had done a number on Bill, reducing him from the pretty boy who’d tormented their Hogwarts years to a flawed man.

Charlie snorted at his ridiculous thoughts.  He knew his brother had been flawed long before he was scarred.

From his spot in the shadows of the rear porch, he could see into the kitchen through the window above the sink.  His mother had been there earlier, cleaning up and preparing for the Christmas feast tomorrow.  And, Charlie thought with another snort, fussing over her daughter-in-law.

Earlier in the evening, at Christmas Eve dinner, Bill and Fleur had announced she was pregnant.  At least it took everyone’s mind off the fact Ron wasn’t there, nor were Harry and Hermione.

Charlie swigged the Firewhisky again.  Its tendrils were slowly pulling him under, so he knew he should go inside soon before passing out on the porch.  He didn’t want to, though.  Being out in the cold seemed like an appropriate metaphor to live.

“Charles?” Bill called, opening the door.

Charlie waved, drunkenly and half-heartedly.  “William.”

Bill stepped out onto the porch, then settled next to Charlie on the swing.

“You okay?” Bill asked.

“Yeah,” Charlie answered.  “Brilliant ‘bout Fleur.”  He hoped he’d managed not to sound jealous.

Bill’s radiant smile told him he’d succeeded.  “It is, isn’t it?  I’ll be a dad.”

Charlie studied his brother.  After a sigh and another swig of Firewhisky, he realized he was happy for Bill but jealous of Fleur.  Unfortunately he didn’t know if it was because she was beautiful or because she’d taken Bill from him.  In their own way, they’d been as close as the twins, but no longer now that Bill was married.

With sincerity this time, Charlie offered the bottle to Bill, saying, “Congratulations.”

Bill looked between the bottle and Charlie’s face.  After a moment, he took the bottle.  “Thanks.”

Next year would be different, Charlie knew, with a niece or, more likely, a nephew around demanding attention.  For now, though, he’d enjoy a moment with his brother.