Venice woke up in her bed, wrapped tightly in the blankets. Her room was dark and it took her a moment before she remembered what had happened. Gasping, she kicked the covers aside and got to her feet, pausing for just a breath before taking a flying leap at the closet doors.
–GOTCHA!†she cried, flinging the doors open.
There was nobody there. Instead she was faced with a neatly organized closet, everything in its place as it always was. In fact, now that she'd stepped back and looked around, everything in her room was back where it should be. There was no mess of clothes on the floor, no shoes strewn across the room. Utterly bewildered, Venice crept to the door, carefully avoiding all the places where the floor squeaked. She eased the door open, peering cautiously through the crack.
Her flat was eerily silent.
Venice tiptoed down the hall, glancing into the bathroom, which was neat and tidy, again just as she had left it. Another peek around the next corner, and she saw the kitchen was back in place. Turning around to face the den, she saw that it too was back as it had been.
–What is going on?†she wondered aloud.
The words had barely left her mouth when she heard a cough from the living room. Suddenly very aware that she was without her wand, Venice silently eased closer, listening carefully.
Someone was sprawled on the couch, buried deep under a blanket. Venice grabbed the first thing she laid her hands on, an umbrella from the stand in the hall, and quietly snuck up to the couch.
Raising the umbrella above her head, she pounced, swinging the umbrella down in one quick swoop. Venice connected solidly with whoever was under the blanket and heard a muffled squawk.
–Have you LOST your MIND, Moon?!â€
Dumbfounded, Venice could only stare, mouth hanging open, as Ron emerged from the blanket, sputtering, red-faced, and looking rather rumpled.
Venice brandished the umbrella at him, sputtering as she searched for the right words.
–What...Who...Why are you here, Ron? Did you clean my flat? Were Ginny and the twins here? Were you in on it?â€
Her eyes narrowed with the last question and she thrust the umbrella menacingly at his chest.
–What? No, I didn’t clean your apartment; I don’t even clean my own room, why in Merlin’s name would I clean yours? Ginny was here, but she left a while ago, asked me to keep an eye on you.â€
With one last jab at his ribs, Venice lowered the umbrella.
–Were you in on it?†she repeated. Ron could only shake his head.
–In on what, Venice?â€
–I went out for a while earlier, and when I got home, my apartment was a mess....everything was everywhere, and there was someone still here when I got back, hiding in my closet, like...like they were waiting for me...â€
Ron snorted and hastily tried to disguise it as a cough.
–Venice, come on. There was someone here? Where’s the mess he made, then?â€
–I don’t know! But there WAS someone here, I saw him! He jumped on me, and that’s the last thing I remember until I woke up a few minutes ago, and now everything is...well, it's clean! It wasn't like that before!â€
Venice broke off, the umbrella slipping out of her hands and sliding to the carpet with a thud.
–Did Ginny clean it? Where is she? Is she coming back?â€
–Maybe you should sit down. Are you sure you didn’t dream it?â€
Venice shrugged him off when he tried to nudge her toward the sofa.
–I’m not mental, Ronald. Is Ginny coming back?â€
Ron shrugged a shoulder.
–Probably, but she didn’t tell me when. Do you want some water? Coffee?â€
He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes.
–Never mind. Just forget it. I’ll get my own damn coffee.â€
She stormed into the kitchen, slamming cupboards and drawers and mugs as she started a fresh pot of coffee. She saw Ron take a seat at the kitchen table, still watching her carefully, and fought down the urge to tell him to shove it.
Instead of shouting at him again she brought him a cup of coffee, slamming the mug onto the table a bit too hard on purpose, but she kept her insults to herself as she took a seat in the chair beside him, sipping at her coffee.
After an awkward silence Ron cleared his throat.
–Do you want to talk about it?â€
–Piss off, Weasley,†Venice hissed, glaring at him over her mug.
–Fine. Fine! I’m going. If I see Ginny I’ll send her over.â€
Ron got up, snatched his jacket off the back of the couch, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Venice set her coffee on the table and rubbed a hand over her eyes.
She knew it hadn’t been a dream. She was willing to bet her life on it. Someone had been in her flat, almost as if they were searching for something, but...what on earth could they have been looking for? She didn’t have anything worth any value—once glance around should have made that obvious. As far as Venice had noticed nothing seemed to be missing.
She pushed her chair back, realizing she should maybe check to make sure nothing actually was missing.
It took her nearly two hours, but by the time she was finished Venice could only find one thing that was missing.
Charlie’s sweater.
Everything else had been put back exactly where it had been. The dust rings that weren’t disturbed were proof, probably the only time Venice would ever be happy that she hated dusting.
She wanted to cry over the loss of Charlie’s sweater. It had been the only thing that smelled like him, and Venice didn’t know if she’d be able to sleep without it, or at least as close to sleep as she ever got anymore.
But...how had anyone known to take his sweater? Venice doubted any of the Weasley clan had done it. She didn’t think any of them were capable of stooping that low.
Did it have anything to do with Charlie’s disappearance?
It had to. It was the only answer...wasn’t it?
Venice sank onto the floor, her mind racing.
She was still curled on the carpet when Ginny came in some time later. Her face said she’d already talked to Ron. Venice waited for Ginny to speak. It took her a few moments. Ginny set her things on the kitchen table and slowly wandered into the living room, where she perched on the arm of the sofa, fixing Venice with a look that was so ‘Molly Weasley’ it nearly made Venice laugh.
–So.†Ginny picked nervously at her fingernails. –Would you like to talk about it?â€
Venice sighed.
–What did Ron tell you?â€
–Just that you were upset and shouting that someone had been here.†She paused, deliberating her words carefully. –Venice, I came over earlier to see how you were. The twins told me what you did this morning and asked me to sort of keep an eye on you. You were sleeping when I got here. Your flat looks exactly as it does right now. You were the only one here, and it couldn’t have been more than an hour or so after you left the shop. There wasn't enough time!â€
Venice didn’t interrupt, instead clenching her fists tightly in her lap as she waited for Ginny to finish.
–I’m not making it up, Ginny! I didn’t dream it, as Ron seems to think, and I haven’t gone round the bend recently. Why won’t you believe me?â€
–Because it doesn’t make any sense! Why would anyone be here? What could you possibly have that they were looking for? I know what you’re thinking and you’ve lost your mind!â€
–How could you POSSIBLY know what I’m thinking, Ginny?†Venice shouted, rising to her knees. –Whoever was here took Charlie’s sweater! They could have taken anything they wanted, but the only thing missing is his bloody sweater! The ONLY thing I have of his, and it’s gone! Why the hell would someone break into my flat just to steal a sweater? That’s what doesn’t make any sense!â€
Ginny sighed, getting to her feet only to pace back and forth a few times.
–Venice, I hardly think it has anything to do with why Charlie disappeared. I bet someone's just being a wanker and playing a trick on you. Everybody knows Charlie's gone...his sweater with the giant 'C' on it is probably a dead give-away, not to mention there's a lot of people that are familiar with Mum's sweater-making habit. Someone is messing with your head, Venice!â€
–You berk! Why don't you believe me? Why would I lie about this?â€
–You haven't been sleeping. Your mind can do funny things to you when you don't sleep; I don't doubt that Charlie's sweater is gone, but you have to see why anyone would have a hard time believing that someone was here, and that they tackled you and then, to top it all off, put you to bed and tucked you in! Someone's having a laugh on you, that's the end of it!â€
Ginny's face and ears were brilliant red, a clear indication of just how upset she really was. Venice felt like punching something. Instead she clenched her hands into fists until her nails bit into her palms and forced herself to take several deep, slow breaths.
–I don't want to argue with you about it, Venice, I really don't. I don't like seeing you like this. You should come back to the Burrow with me. If someone was in here at all I don't like the idea of you staying here, especially alone.â€
–I'm not running to your mum every time something happens-she's got enough on her plate as it is!â€
–I didn't say anything about my mum!â€
–You didn't have to!â€
The two girls stared at each other from across the room. Venice got to her feet.
–I don't like running to your mum because I don't like needing help, Ginny,†she said quietly after a bit. Ginny nodded.
–I know. I'll stop asking. I just love you, you idiot. I want to make sure you're all right.â€
Ginny crossed the room and flung her arms around Venice. Venice returned the gesture, feeling the anger seep slowly out of her. She felt drained, limp, a pile of over-cooked noodles with legs.
–I need to sit down,†she mumbled, stumbling toward the sofa. Ginny hovered anxiously as Venice collapsed on the cushions, slouching sideways until her head was pillowed on the arm. She could feel the beginnings of a headache pounding dully, and she allowed her eyes to slide closed.
–I'll stay here, at least for tonight. You just sleep, okay?â€
Venice nodded slowly, already feeling herself beginning to drift. She felt Ginny cover her with a blanket, heard Ginny bustling about in the kitchen, and then she slept.
~~~~
She woke later, suddenly, as though someone had shouted in her ear, but everything was quiet. The lamp was still burning beside the sofa, casting a dim glow through the room. Ginny was curled in the recliner, deeply asleep with her mouth hanging open. Venice sat up, pushing the blanket aside. She felt better, as if she'd slept for weeks instead of what must have been mere hours. She climbed to her feet and slouched into the kitchen. Her stomach was rumbling and Venice couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten.
She scrounged through the embarrassingly bare cupboards, finally settling for a box of crackers. She snatched it off the shelf and froze, box in hand, when the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
Someone was behind her.
Not Ginny; she could still hear Ginny's heavy mouth-breathing coming from the den. Her hands were shaking, the box of crackers clattering to the counter-top, and Venice couldn't quite bring herself to turn around.
–What do you want?†she whispered.
A footstep. The kitchen floor creaked. Venice shuddered.
Another footstep.
Clenching her teeth, Venice turned around.
Tall, looming, flowing black cloak concealed any hint of face or flesh. Venice felt her heart stop.
An arm rose, wand-tip poking out the end. She couldn't look away.
–You.â€
The deep, rasping voice spoke only one word and with it her blood ran cold.
–Stupefy!â€
Ginny shifted in her sleep, mumbling. She didn't wake, didn't stir again, as the loud, tell-tale crack of someone Apparating spread through the flat and Venice disappeared.
~~~
Darkness. Stone walls, stone floor, ceiling hidden in shadows. Venice was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, a tangle of limbs.
–Ennervate.†the raspy voice echoed through the room. Face smushed against the cold stone floor, Venice moaned. With a swish of cloak and heavy footfalls, her captor was gone. Venice sat up slowly, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Slowly, she was able to make out the walls, the size of the room.
It was nearly the same size as her flat.
Venice carefully got to her feet, shivering in the dank air. At her side, in the corner, something moved. Venice froze, staring wildly into the darkness.
–Who's there?†She tried to make the words loud, brave, but they came out at a mere whisper. Something scraped against the floor, followed by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
–I'm nobody,†a male voice rasped out sharply. –Who the hell are you?â€
She knew that voice. She'd been hearing it in her dreams for weeks.
–Charlie?â€
–No...No! It's not you!â€
Suddenly he was standing in front of her, his hands clamped around her shoulders.
Charlie.
His face was filthy, his hair hanging about his face in dirty clumps, but she would forever be able to recognize his warm chocolate eyes. He was staring at her with his mouth open, unblinking.
–Is it really you?†He didn't give her a chance to respond before he suddenly yanked her into his arms and buried his face in her hair.
–Are you okay? Are you hurt?†Charlie pulled back, giving her a careful once-over before gathering her close again. Venice sagged against him. She couldn't find her voice to answer Charlie; instead she just squeezed him a little tighter in her arms. Venice sniffled, blinking back tears.
–I knew you weren't dead, Charlie,†she finally mumbled. –Everyone else was thinking it, but I knew if something had happened to you I could feel it, and now you're here, and you're okay.â€
She started to cry and pressed her face into Charlie's neck, certain that at any moment she'd wake up on her sofa again.
They stood there, arms wrapped around each other, until the tears finally slowed and Venice had to pull back to wipe her face with her hands. She smiled shyly at Charlie, feeling strangely awkward, and then Charlie held his hand out to her. She took it and he raised her fingers to his lips, pressed a kiss against her knuckles, and then tugged her closer so he could kiss her properly.
Venice leaned into him, reaching up to slip her free hand around his neck.
–I love you so much,†Charlie blurted the words out when they broke apart, grinning down at her. Venice blushed and opened her mouth to respond.
Before she could utter a word, there was a startlingly loud bang and she was flung backwards, landing painfully on her shoulder halfway across the room. When she'd struggled to her feet, gasping, it was too late. Charlie was gone, and she was alone.
A Story for Charlie by Darkness Enshrouds
Chapter Notes: I was finishing this chapter up yesterday when my computer mysteriously decided, halfway through saving it to my thumbdrive, it didn't want my story to exist anymore and promptly deleted everything. After 2 hours of loud swearing and frantic searching, I finally found a way to restore everything that had been deleted. Talk about stress!! Geesh. So here you go, before it disappears again! :P