Chapter 1 - Sparks Before the Game
“I never expected a single glance to upend everything I thought I knew about Charlie Weasley.”
...
The Quidditch World Cup campsite stretched endlessly before me, a riot of color, movement, and magic. Tents of every size and shape dotted the rolling fields, shimmering with enchantments that made flames dance in impossible colors and banners flutter even without wind. Wizards and witches bustled past, voices blending with the excited screams of fans staking out spots. Fireworks streaked across the sky, turning it into a moving canvas of gold, green, and violet.
My chest tightened—not from nerves exactly, but from awe. The Quidditch World Cup. I’d dreamed about this day for years, and now I was here, surrounded by magic and chaos and people who loved it as much as I did.
“Y/N! Over here!”
Fred and George came barreling toward me, nearly colliding with a roaming Hippogriff before stopping in perfect, chaotic form. Their matching grins were infectious, practically vibrating with excitement. Ginny followed more cautiously, cheeks flushed, eyes darting between us like she expected someone to scold her.
Percy came last, walking stiffly, posture perfect, looking every bit the Ministry-minded perfectionist he had become. He shot his siblings a look that could have frozen water and muttered, “Honestly, must you two treat every field as if it’s a circus?”
Fred snickered. “Percy, lighten up. It’s only the World Cup.”
George elbowed him. “Yeah, imagine if we were this excited about paperwork.”
Percy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am perfectly capable of being excited in anappropriatemanner,” he said, somewhere between disapproval and exasperation. Then, noticing me, his face softened. “Y/N. It’s... good to see you again.”
I smiled, relieved he had remembered the friendly side of Percy. “Good to see you too. Still keeping the twins in line, I see?”
He allowed a faint smile. “I try.”
Fred and George snorted. “Try harder,” George said, waggling his eyebrows. “Or at least let the games begin without someone throwing a fit about tent placement.”
I laughed quietly, shaking my head at the familiar chaos. Ginny’s shy smile made me nostalgic—back at Hogwarts, she had been quieter, observing from the sidelines while I managed Percy’s endless lectures and the twins’ antics.
“Still managing to survive without hexing anyone at Hogwarts?” Percy teased, attempting a more relaxed tone.
I rolled my eyes, smirking. “Barely. But I hear you’ve mastered not tripping over your own feet... eventually.”
Percy’s lips twitched in a small smile, though his posture remained rigid. “I am well-practiced in the art of self-preservation,” he said, straightening his robes. Then, leaning in a little, voice softer, “And I still owe you for Penny. She’s... happy. Really happy. Thanks for that.”
My chest warmed at the thought. “You’re welcome. Someone had to keep you two in line.”
And then Percy stepped aside.
I turned—and there he was.Charlie Weasley.
He was bent over a tent, hammering stakes with Mr. Weasley, adjusting enchanted ropes and giving occasional instructions. Even doing something so ordinary, his presence had weight. The sunlight caught his hair, and the faint green in his eyes seemed brighter than I remembered. He moved with the same coordination and confidence that had made him an impressive Quidditch Seeker back at Hogwarts, dashing across the pitch with skill and daring I’d admired from the stands.
My stomach twisted. Four years, and he still had this effect on me. I quickly reminded myself: Y/N, you are a professional adult now. He’s just Charlie. Don’t... stare.
But it was impossible not to notice the way he worked—calm, efficient, quietly commanding—and the faint curve of his lips when he caught sight of me.
He looked up—and our eyes met.
Heat rose to my cheeks, heart beating faster than the excited crowd around us. That polite, casual grin he offered was dangerous—it hit somewhere deep, where old crushes hid and memories lingered.
I swallowed, forcing a smile. “Hello, Charlie.”
“Y/N,” he replied, voice smooth, low, and familiar. “It’s... good to see you.”
My thoughts stumbled.Why does he do this to me every time? He hasn’t even said anything yet.
I caught myself watching him as he adjusted the tent ropes, pretending to be busy. But when he looked back, his gaze lingered longer than necessary—and my stomach did a backflip.
Does he remember Hogwarts? Does he feel the same way I did back then?
Fred and George were still teasing loudly, but I hardly noticed. Percy’s expression was unreadable, his mouth tight as though he disapproved of the twins, the crowd, and possibly even my flustered state. Ginny gave a small, encouraging smile, probably noticing my internal chaos.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to straighten my shoulders.Act normal, Y/N. Don’t let him see you melt.
But as Charlie’s eyes met mine again, something unspoken passed between us. My chest fluttered in a way I hadn’t felt in years. And for the first time since leaving Hogwarts, I wondered if some feelings never truly fade.
Charlie gave me a small, knowing smile—like he could see straight through me. My pulse spiked.Does he remember? Does he feel it too? Or is this just my imagination running wild?
