Shy little Eloise Moreau found herself the proud owner of Ollivanders after his death in the war. Now she's left to cope with the loss of her mentor while attempting to run a business.
When Charlie Weasley drops by one day in hopes of buying a new w...
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A few days later Eloise received a letter from a large barn owl.
Eloise,
I heard back from a friend at the sanctuary. If you would like we could meet at the Leaky Cauldron later tonight and discuss? If you're not too busy of course.
Charlie
She found herself grinning as she read the untidy scrawl. She scribbled back a quick note on the back, letting him know she would meet him there at eight. That would leave her plenty of time to tidy up the shop after she closed, and to prepare herself to see him again.
Even though talking to Charlie was becoming a bit easier the more she ran into him, she still felt nervous about meeting him later that day. Unlike the other times that had spoken, in Fortescue's Charlie had seemed a bit more fidgety, which made her wonder if she had made him uncomfortable by speaking to him in such a casual manner. However, he had done so first, and she was simply following his lead. She certainly wouldn't have if he hadn't been so friendly during their previous encounters.
Throughout the rest of her day, Eloise found herself growing more and more anxious. She kept dropping wands, knocking over her record books, and forgetting about her cup of tea that she had to keep reheating. When it was finally time to head out, she had changed her jumper four times, finally settling on the one she had been wearing all day.
She strolled slowly to the Leaky Cauldron, reminding herself that Charlie was an extremely nice guy who was willing to try to help her with her supplier issue, and that it was really nothing to get all worked up about.
She spotted him sitting in a booth in the back of the pub, and made her way over to where he was sitting.
Charlie stood as he noticed her approach, sending a smile her direction as she joined him in the booth.
"I got here a bit early so I ordered you a butterbeer, is that alright?" he asked, gesturing to the two glasses on the table.
"Yes! Thank you," she replied, fidgeting in her seat. She reached for the drink and took a sip, the beverage warming her up in a comforting way.
"So I wrote my boss after we spoke the other day, and he said that he would consider providing you with the heartstring. The issue is that as a sanctuary, it's obviously wrong to raise the dragons for their heartstrings, so it would have to be as dragons pass away or are found killed," Charlie launched into his explanation. Eloise nodded along, understanding that heartstring was a controversial wand core in the first place, as many wandmakers to not obtain them ethically.
"Yes, of course. We worked with a sanctuary in South America previously, so I understand the importance of doing this all properly," she reassured him, and he looked a bit more at ease at her words. It was obvious to her that he cared a lot about the dragons that he looked after.
"So they are willing to sell it to you, but only as it is provided naturally," he went on.
She felt her face light up at the prospect, as her stock was running low and it was important that she buy more as soon as possible. "This is so great! And honestly, the heartstring of one average sized dragon is enough for almost 500 wands!"
"Oh good," Charlie laughed, "I was worried that this wouldn't be enough."
"It's great, Charlie, thank you so much for you help," she said earnestly, meeting his eye for once in an effort to show how grateful she was.
And the tables were turned as Charlie began to blush instead of her. "It's no big deal. Of course you'll have to go to Romania at some point to sign the contract they wrote up, and talk specifics, but they said that they're willing to help you out until you can make it out there."
"This is so wonderful," she smiled brightly, feeling relieved that she could finally stop worrying about the issue.
"I'm glad it's settled," he agrees, taking a long drink of his butterbeer.
"So why aren't you in Romania? You're obviously very passionate about your work," she questioned, eyes widening when she realized that it was a rather personal thing for her to ask him.
He looked out around the pub while hesitating. After a few beats, he answered, "Fred, mostly."
"Oh! Right, sorry, of course. I should've realized that," she said, wondering how on earth she could have forgotten about such a thing. She didn't say anything else, just awkwardly cradled her drink and waited for Charlie to either discuss it further or change the subject. Or storm away in anger. Oh no! What if she had made him angry by invading his privacy?
"I know I should probably get back, and I really do miss the dragons." Charlie sighed, placing him near-empty mug in front of him. "However, I don't think that I can leave my family right now.
"I understand," she said, hoping that she came across as sincere. She stayed quiet, letting him go on if he chose to.
"I'm sure you didn't want to come here and hear a guy cry about his dead brother," he stared blankly down at the table, "I'm glad we got this sorted out for you, I—"
"Charlie," she interrupted. With all that he'd done to help her with the heartstring problem, she definitely didn't mind lending an ear. "I don't mind. If you want to talk about it, that is."
He said nothing for a few minutes. They sat together in comfortable silence, unlike the experience with Bill where the silence was almost suffocating. They both finished their drinks, and Charlie signalled the waitress to bring more. When she brought another round, he continued.
"I'm not sure if I can go back. I was in Romania for seven years, rarely visiting home. I missed seven years of Fred's life," he explained. She could hear the pain in his voice, which cracked slightly as he spoke. "I feel like I missed this huge part of his life. And George's, and Ron's, and Ginny's. But Fred is gone, and I can't make up for missing it."
"What I've learned," she hesitated, taking a few deep breaths, "Is that you want to blame yourself for what happened. For not doing things differently. You wonder what if. And you really shouldn't."
He didn't respond, so she summoned up her courage and reached across the table to rest her small hand on his larger, gnarled hand.
"You can't go back in time and change it, Charlie. And you can't beat yourself up over what could have been."
"I miss him," he whispered. "And I feel like I hardly have the right to. What George is going through, and my mum and dad, and everyone else..."
"He was your brother," she consoled.
"It's hard," he said quietly, interlacing their fingers.
"I know," she agreed, closing her eyes and squeezing his hand.
Charlie didn't let go of her hand as he went on to explain, "So I can't go back. Not yet, that is. I need to stay with them for now. To help them, to know them."
"That's a very good reason to stay," she reassured.
