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It's Complicated	By : KohakuShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2708 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am not making any money off of it. The boys are all just so sexy I can't help playing with them a bit. I'll put them back when I'm done. In tact. ...probably.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-13
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter
8

New
Year's Eve

Percy swore this year
would be different. The Leaky Cauldron was too crowded and too loud,
he said, but they'd meet up in front of Gwendolyn's Goblet at nine.
Seamus sighed. It was nine twenty-five. He should have known better.
“Four years running, huh Perce?” he muttered under his
breath, which frosted with every exhale, and shoved his hands into
his pockets –the thermal charms he'd cast before leaving the
hotel were wearing off, and his pride wouldn't stand for casting them
again. It was cold. Raining too. He was thankful for the overhang,
but it meant he had to constantly adjust upwind of the smokers.
Normally he didn't mind it overmuch, but it was New Year's Eve and
there were just too damn many of them. All the smoke was making his
hair stink and his eyes water. He leaned his head back against the
brick wall. 'Please come, Percy. I don't care if you're late
just...show up. Charlie's wrong about you. I want to believe that.
You're not a loser or an arsehole. We can have something good again,
like we used to, but I need you to prove me right. I don't know how
much longer I can wait around for you.'

***

“Charlie,
are you sure you're fine with going?” Ron asked.

“It's
fine,” Charlie chuckled. “I'll go. You keep cuddling your
sleepy woman.”

Ron threw one of the sofa
pillows at his older brother, but Charlie dodged and grabbed a
handful of floo powder.

I don't want to go.
It's selfish, but Percy will be there. He's my brother, I know, but
more than my brother, he's the competition. I think maybe I kind of
hate him for that. Or maybe I just hate him because Seamus won't. I
don't know if I hate him more for Seamus' sake, or for my own. I
can't hate Seamus, so this anger has to go somewhere, right? I don't
want to see Percy now, but I'll go. I'm good at pretending everything
is fine. “Hey, Ron. Tell
your wife I said she's a lightweight when she wakes up,” he
joked. Hermione really couldn't hold her liquor. It was only quarter
to ten and she'd already passed out after a few passes of the bottle.

“Char,
seriously...” Ron started to say, but Charlie rolled his eyes.

“It's
fine,
Ron. He's probably out with his boyfriend, right? Leaving poor
Georgey-porgy all lonesome and in need of his dear brothers and
plenty of booze. I'll fetch him, kicking and screaming if I have to.”

On the one hand, I
really do hope Percy is spending New Year's with Seamus. I don't want
Seamus to spend another lonely holiday when someone should be holding
him, touching him in all the ways he likes best. If it can't be me,
then I want Percy to get his shite together and make things right. On
the other hand, I'm so jealous I can hardly see straight.

He'd
been lucky enough to pass out before having a fit at Christmas, but
it had been an effort. He, oddly enough, owed Snape for slipping a
sleeping draught into his third mug of eggnog. And if Snape did it it
must have been at Harry's request, and if Harry requested it, Ron
must have begged, so really, he owed his brother big time for saving
him from Seamus, Percy, and those worried looks Bill had been
shooting in his direction while trying to tend to a house full of
guests. Bill, bless him, did keep trying to get away and check on
him, but every time he got within ten feet someone else needed
something. 'I really do love my family,' Charlie
thought as he dusted a bit of powder from his shoulder and stepped
out of the fireplace, '...most of them, anyway.' That
wasn't fair, he remembered. He loved Percy. He was his brother, after
all, how could he not? It was just that at the moment he thought he
maybe hated him more than he loved him.

Charlie glanced around
George's flat and was about to open his mouth and bellow playfully
for him to get his arse, and his best fireworks, out here, that they
had a party to attend, but paused when he heard voices coming from
the kitchen. 'Company? Heh. George, don't tell me you went and got
yourself a boyfriend and didn't tell anyone, you little jerk.'

***

Percy shot his gaze to
the kitchen clock as he picked up his wallet and slipped on his
watch. 9:15. Good. That was good. He was a little late, but he'd
heard somewhere you should never be perfectly on time for dates. It
made you look desperate.

George had other plans.
He wrapped his arms around his older brother's neck and buried his
face into the nape, inhaling his scent. “You're wearing the
good cologne,” he said sulkily.

Percy bit the inside of
his cheek, willing some resolve. “Let go. You'll be fine
without me for one night.”

“It's
New Year's Eve.”

“All
the more reason I really can't stand him up this time.”

“Just
tell him I tried to kill myself again, like last year,” George
sulked, grazing his lips over the shell of his brother's ear. “I'm
naked and I bought the good booze. You can't seriously
be
thinking about leaving me here, all alone.”

Percy jumped and shuffled
away. “Stop. We've already talked about this. You know why I
need to make things right with Seamus.”

“No.
You
talked.
You spelled my mouth shut so I would have to listen.”

“Even
so...”

“And
you still sucked me off after,” George reminded, pulling him
back against his chest again. “Drank down every drop like a
greedy little bitch,” he murmured in Percy's ear. “...and
let me shag you. Twice.” George ground his hips against Percy's
arse and nibbled on his earlobe.

Percy couldn't repress
the shudder that ran down his spine. He cursed himself for his
weakness. Somehow, it was just impossible to say no to George. The
first time it happened, George really had been a mess. He needed
someone, anyone, to reassure him that he wasn't alone. Somehow
embracing had become kissing, and kissing had become much, much more.
He hated himself for succumbing to it every time-it was disgusting,
immoral, and just plain wrong. He knew his relationship history meant
he was some kind of sexual deviant who got off on things that were
blatantly taboo – first Seamus (still mostly a child then), and
then Mr. Crouch (far, far too old)...and now he was shagging his own
brother and loving that more than all the rest combined. Seamus had
to resort to toys to keep him interested, for pity's sake,
which was completely ludicrous, because Seamus was really
good-looking. Even if he was grown now, Percy still thought so.
Seamus was still really, really cute. It was just...he wasn't George.
He'd never been George. Maybe that was the problem all along.

He bit his lip as he felt
George start to rub his groin through his trousers, his younger
brother's long cock pressing hard against his arse. “George,
please...” he rasped.

“Please
what, Perce?” George mumured huskily. “Please rub your
gorgeous, naked body against me more firmly, maybe? Please strip me
down, bend me over the kitchen table, and pound my tight arse
straight through to the New Year?” he quipped. “Or maybe
you want to be punished for bringing that slut to Christmas dinner
and rubbing him in my face. I could spank you for it. You love it
when I spank you.”

Again, Percy couldn't
repress a soft shudder and a moan. He did. He hated to admit how much
he loved it when George spanked him. He loved all the dirty things
George did to him, and George had no shortage of imagination for such
things. “George...” he rasped. “I can't...”

“...resist
me?” George finished for him. “I know, so why are you
trying so hard?” He unfastened Percy's trousers and yanked them
down, exposing his thighs to the open air and tugging his prick
roughly out of his shorts, rubbing it roughly, the way he knew always
drove Percy wild. “Does he
make
you feel the way that I can?”

“No,”
Percy shuddered helplessly. “No one makes me feel the way you
do. You know that.”

“That's
because the one who loves you most is me,” George hissed into
his ear, dragging his nail over the tip of Percy's prick and dipping
it into the slit.

Percy couldn't help but
buck against it, tears edging his eyes.

“You
don't want to go. Be honest. Tell me you don't want to go.”

“I
don't want to go,” Percy answered obediently. It wasn't the
obedience that made him say it, but the fact that it was so very
true. He wanted to stay here – let George spank him, punish
him, do all sorts of nasty things to his body, further pollute his
soul, but he couldn't. Seamus was waiting for him. It was so
important to make things right with Seamus. George was his brother.
This couldn't continue. If it was Seamus, who was so cute, surely he
could have something resembling a normal relationship. Then George
could find someone else, move on, be happy again. They were brothers,
for pity's sake! How could anything between them ever lead to
anything but misery?

“Tell
me you'd rather be here with me.”

“I
would,” Percy whimpered as George tugged his shorts down about
his thighs and pressed two fingers down Percy's throat, rubbing his
hard cock along the cleft of his older brother's arse.

Percy whimpered, but
didn't fight, sucking the fingers like a whore. George groaned and
slipped them out when they were good and wet.

“...taking
it rough, the way we both know you like it,” George murmured,
biting the junction of Percy's throat as he unceremoniously rammed
both fingers deep into his brother's anus.

Percy let go a cry of
bliss. George was the only one who knew how to treat him, the only
one who knew what he needed. He was disturbed. Everything he liked
about sex was wrong. He didn't need someone who would make it
alright. He needed someone who would tell him what a dirty slut he
was, someone who would punish him for it. He needed sex that still
left an ache in his bones the next day. Nothing else had ever
satisfied him the way George could. George knew what he needed and
gave it. But then there was Seamus. Seamus was such a sweet guy. He
probably wouldn't be able to punish him properly, even if Percy
asked. 'There's something really wrong with me. I'm what's wrong
with us, Seamus. I'm so sorry...'

“...taking
it rough,” Percy rasped wantonly. “Being devastated by
you.”

George slipped the
fingers of his free hand into the collar of Percy's shirt, pulling
down hard to tear it open. Buttons clattered and bounced across the
kitchen floor and Percy mewled in pleasure when George bit into his
shoulder harder than what one would typically consider a love bite.
He nearly broke skin. “Tell me what you want,” George
rasped. Percy was so beautiful – a beautiful, debauched,
red-haired angel. Did he know how beautiful he was? It was easy to
punish Percy the way he wanted. George couldn't help but think if he
could sully his perfection somehow, it would be easier to look at him
without becoming lost in him.

He'd always adored Percy.
It was the one secret he had from Fred. Fred would never have
understood, and Fred's opinion mattered so much that George was able
to restrain his more base desires. But now Fred was gone. He missed
him – of course he missed him – but now that Fred was
gone, there was nothing to stop him. Percy had been a good brother
and moved in with him to help him through the grief. How could he
have known then the way George was looking at him when he was
changing, spying on him when he showered...waiting for his chance to
show Percy just how much he loved him, and in how wrong a way? The
fact that Percy turned out to be a kinky bastard, well, that just
made him lust after his brother as much as he loved him.

“You,”
Percy answered. There was something important he was supposed to be
doing. What was it again? Well, whatever it was could wait until
later, surely.

“Mmn.
And what do you want me to do to you, Perce? Hm? What do you want
your kid brother to do to you for being such a little slut, hm?
Leading me on with your body and telling me I can't have you with
your mouth. What should I do to you for being such a tease, huh?”

“Anything!”
Percy rasped. “Anything you want, George. Just hurry.
Please hurry...”

George answered by
twisting his fingers inside of Percy's hole and ramming them as hard
as he could into his brother's prostate. Percy cried out his pleasure
loudly.

“Greedy
little bitch,” George chided playfully, pulling them out and
enjoying the way Percy whimpered. He tore Percy's shirt off the rest
of the way, making sure to rip the fabric and leave it in tatters as
he cast it aside. He flicked his wand and sent Percy's pants in a
similar state of disrepair to join it, then shoved his brother's face
down roughly against the kitchen table, holding it down with one hand
and tugging his underpants off, wrapping them around one wrist and
then the other in a tangled mess to bind Percy's wrists at the curve
of his back and listened to the way Percy moaned at having his prick
shoved into the aged wood. He knew he was probably thinking about how
they served guests at this table, and how many times he'd come all
over it. He gave Percy's arse a good, hard slap.

Percy moaned in pleasure.

“How
many times to you think you deserve for the way you shit all over my
happy Christmas, hm?” George asked. “I even had to buy a
new wand, you had me so pissed.”

Percy moaned again, but
didn't answer, his mind bleary with pleasure. George lowered his hand
over his brother's arse again, harder this time; he made sure to put
all of his strength into it so it would really sting and drive
Percy's prick hard into the tabletop.

Percy sobbed. 'So
good. He's so good at this...yes, George...hurt me. I'm a freak.
Please hurt me more. Just a little more...'

George bit his lip
against his own pleasure. Percy really had no idea how sexy it was
that he got off on things like being tied up and spanked. It was like
a wet dream come true. “What was that? Twenty-five? Count,”
George ordered. “Starting from one.” He lowered his hand
hard onto Percy's bum again.

“One,”
Percy rasped breathlessly.

“Not
loud enough, big brother,” George smirked. “Start over.”
He slapped him again.

“One!”
Percy cried out.

Another firm slap, hard
enough that Percy's arse wasn't the only thing stinging –
George's hand tingled from the force of the blow. “Two!”
Percy cried out around a strangled sob of pleasure. Tears were
trailing down his cheeks to the tabletop by six, and they flowed
freely as his arse turned redder and redder, the sting greater and
greater. His heart felt like it would burst as George punished him.
It wasn't just Christmas, it was punishment for daring to ever look
at a man other than his beloved brother, punishment for touching
Seamus, punishment for pretending to love him so that no one would
every suspect he was actually doing such things with George. It was
punishment for using Seamus to protect the precious secret he had
with George.

“T-t...ah
tw-twenty-fiiivee!” Percy cried desperately. His arse hurt, his
groin ached, his thighs, he knew, bore an angry red line where they
repeatedly bumped into the edge of the table. And it was all amazing,
delicious...perfect.

George caressed the
extra-sensitive flesh of Percy's arse and then gripped it hard
between his hands and spread the cheeks open to look down on the
tight pucker he had only barely stretched. It hardly even counted as
stretching, really. It didn't matter. He knew that's the way Percy
liked it. If it was up to Percy, he wouldn't prepare himself at all,
but George wasn't willing to hurt his brother quite that much.
Spanking, pinching, light bondage and rough sex were one thing –
causing Percy lasting physical damage was something else entirely. He
only ever hurt Percy as much as he knew his brother could take. And
he knew his brother could take a little more, needed to take a
little more.

“George,
please!” Percy begged.

George grabbed his wand
and flicked open the door of the fridge. Butter would do. “Accio,”
he grit out, making quick work of greasing himself up just enough
before slamming his cock into Percy's wonderfully tight, eager hole.

Percy groaned at the dull
burn of George's member penetrating him so quickly. His prick was so
hard, rubbing into the kitchen table, his arse so sensitive from the
spanking that even the light breeze from the kitchen window set his
flesh on fire, and George's hard grip on his cheeks even more so.
George's long cock rammed into him, giving him almost no time to
acclimate himself to it, before beginning to pound him. He clutched
the end of the table, arms outstretched, hanging on for dear life as
he moaned.

“Fucking
slut,” George hissed. He didn't really think Percy was a slut,
but he knew how Percy loved hearing it.

“Yes!”

“Dirty
little whore.”

“Yes!”

“My
dirty
little whore,” George said possessively.

“Yes!
Oh fuck, George! Yes!”

“Yes
what, Perce?”

“Yes!
Yes, I'm yours! Yours! Your fucking dirty whore! All yours..!”

“Liar,”
George replied, digging his nails into Percy's sensitive arse and
dragging them along the flesh. “Then who were you planning to
see tonight, hmm?”

Reality crashed back in
on Percy and the shock of it made him shoot his load unexpectedly all
over the table and his stomach. It pulled George along with it. He
groaned as Percy loudly exclaimed his pleasure in a string of curses
that he could only have learned from Seamus Finnigan.

Slumping down to the
kitchen floor, George breathlessly pulled Percy to his chest as he
leaned back against the cupboard, giving himself a moment to get the
air back into his lungs. He caressed Percy's face and hair, laying
gentle kisses to his lips and brow as the world filtered back in and
Percy realized he'd stood Seamus up again because he was too
busy letting his brother brutally shag him...and loving it like he
loved nothing else in life.

“Love
you,” George purred. “You're mine,
Perce. Stop fucking around with other guys. I'm the jealous type, you
know.”

“I
know,” Percy mumbled, “but...”

“But
it's wrong? Who fucking cares? You like it even better because
it's
wrong, and you damn well know it. Everything else for you has to be
perfect, exactly according to the rules. That's why you need sex to
be firey, passionate, and a little painful. You keep everything so
ordered, all the time. Sex is the only time you allow yourself to let
go, let yourself enjoy how dirty what we do together is, how taboo.
It doesn't mean you're mental, just kinky.” He kissed Percy
softly on the mouth. “Lucky for you, your lover likes
kinky.”

“Lover,”
Percy echoed flatly. It was one thing to say it in the heat of the
moment, but to admit how much he adored George now that it was over,
to admit it was long past time to let Seamus go...that was very, very
different.

George tilted his chin up
to lock his gaze. “I love you Percy Weasley, not just as
a brother, but as a man. Can you still not say it back?”

Percy sighed softly.
George. Merlin, the man was perfect. He was everything he needed in
life, all wrapped up into a package with the unfortunate label of
'brother' on it, but George couldn't help that. He couldn't make it
go away. If Percy was honest with himself, the incestuous bond
between them only made it more exciting. Even without it
though...even without it he would still... “I love you,
George,” he answered. There. He'd finally said it. It wasn't as
hard as he thought it would be. “Love you so much. Too much.”

“Just
enough,” George answered with a wide grin, then kissed him
firmly, letting their tongues tangle eagerly. It was a kiss you
couldn't mistake for anything but a kiss between lovers, even if they
weren't naked and cum-splattered on the kitchen floor.

***

Charlie froze in the
kitchen doorway. What his eyes fell on was so bizarre, so incredibly
wrong and perverse, that his brain temporarily refused to register
it. Two of his brothers were sitting on the kitchen floor, naked.
Frenching. Percy's arse was an angry red and his hole was dripping
cum. George was groping the irritated arse as Percy moaned into his
mouth. At first, it was little more than a blur of colors. He just
couldn't quite get his mind around what he was looking at. His eyes
must be playing tricks on him. Surely, his brothers weren't shagging
one another. That was impossible. He blinked.

“I
should go,” Percy said. “Seamus is waiting for me. I'm
really late already.”

“Don't
go,” George said firmly. “Fuck Seamus. He's forgiven you
for standing him up dozens of times. He'll forgive you again, and if
he doesn't, then who cares. You're mine.
It's my
name
you scream the loudest. It's my
cum
dripping out of your hole. He can't make you feel the way I do. You
know that.”

“...I
know it,” Percy answered hesitantly. “You're the only one
for me,” he admitted. He would apologize to Seamus. He would
arrange another date and sit down, really talk. End it. He had to. It
wasn't fair to anyone if he...

That's when it hit.
Charlie felt like someone had just hit him over the head with a sack
full of bricks. He grabbed Percy by the hair, yanked him to his feet.
He wasn't thinking as his brothers suddenly realized in a moment of
utter horror that they'd been caught in the act. He couldn't look at
Percy and think 'brother' now. All he could see through his rage was
the fucking arsehole who hurt Seamus, who keeps hurting Seamus –
Seamus, who should never have any reason to hurt or cry.
...beautiful, sweet, perfect Seamus, who was standing somewhere,
waiting for this bastard, who was too busy shagging his own brother
to give a damn about how the beautiful Irishman must feel.

He snapped. There was no
other way to describe it. He threw Percy hard into the table. Percy
cried out in pain as the whole thing toppled over and cracked from
the force as it hit the floor. Charlie tossed the table aside and it
shattered against the wall, a wood shard cutting a deep gash along
his cheekbone.

“What
the fuck is wrong with you, you prat?!” he demanded, though he
didn't even really know what he was saying. He hauled Percy up again
and slammed him into the wall. Something sounded rough, like a bone
snapping, but he couldn't get his mind around this either. “You
have no idea, do you?! Do you even fucking care!?
While
you're fucking him around, he's been crying over you all year!
Crying! Because he thought he was the scum of the earth for cheating
on you!” He slammed his fist into Percy's face. “And how
many times did you cheat on him,
huh? With how many guys?! How often! Tell me, dammit! Arsehole!
Fucking scumbag! Worthless trash!”

He vaguely registered
someone screaming and clawing behind him, trying to get him to stop
pounding his fists into Percy's battered body, but he couldn't get
his mind around it. There was a fuss. Some kind of ruckus. A series
of voices. He could feel two sets of arms on his, restricting his
movement.

“Charlie!
Fuck! Charlie, stop! You've gotta stop. You're gonna fucking kill
him!”

That voice. Who...?
Charlie blinked and slumped almost instantly as the world crashed
back in through his anger. “Ron? Why are you here?”

“You
took a long time getting back, Char,” Ron said gently to his
obviously disturbed brother. He couldn't blame him if the state of
nudity he found George and Percy in was any sign of what he'd walked
in on. “I thought I'd better check up.” Good thing, too,
but Ron was at least smart enough not to say that.

George, who probably
should have been concerned about putting on pants at this point,
rushed to Percy's side. He was practically in tears. “What the
fuck is wrong with you!?” he hollered at Charlie as he cradled
Percy's bloodied body in his arms. Percy was conscious, but only
barely. “He's your brother, you arsehole! Don't you care what
happens to him at all?!”

“No,”
Charlie answered and found his voice strangely wooden as he let Ron
tug him to his feet. Percy's face was a mess. There was blood
everywhere. Had he really done that? To his own brother? He didn't
know he was capable of that kind of violent outburst.

Percy coughed up a
mouthful of blood.

“George,
get dressed and take Percy to the hospital,” Ron said. “I've
got Charlie.”

Charlie still felt dazed,
as if he was dreaming and any moment he would wake up and realize
none of this had actually happened. When he didn't suddenly wake up,
his upset first wasn't for the brother he'd beaten to a pulp, but for
Seamus, who, once again, was alone on New Year's Eve because of
Percy's selfishness. Seamus was alone. Drinking, probably. Hurting.
“Where?”

“Where
what, Char?” Ron asked gently. His brother had always been so
together, but at the moment Charlie wasn't even close to mentally
sound. He wondered if he should call Bill back from Bulgaria.

“Where
did you tell Seamus to meet you, knowing full well you weren't going
to show, you arsehole?” Charlie shouted at Percy. He tugged
weakly on Ron's restraining grip, but the violence in him had already
passed.

Percy was in no condition
to really answer. He could mostly register what was being said as
George – clothed and returned – spelled clothes onto his
brother as gently as he could. He tried to reply, but could only
groan from the pain. Something around his mid-section was broken. It
ached with every movement and it hurt to breathe. He closed his eyes
because he couldn't seem to clear the blurriness from his vision. His
head was throbbing.

“Percy!”
George was starting to freak a bit.

“Go
on,” Charlie told Ron weakly. “I won't...I'll be okay on
my own. I won't do anything stupid, so...go on. Help George.
...fuck.” He raked his hand through his hair. 'What
the hell did I just do? He's my brother,
for pity's sake...'

“I'll
call Bill,” Ron said. “He can...”

“Don't
you dare, Ron. I'm serious. It's New Year's Eve for chrissake.
Someone ought to enjoy it. Might as well be Bill.”

“Char...”

“I
won't do anything stupid. Go on.”

Ron sighed. “Come
by later. When you calm down. Okay?”

George cast an uncertain
look over his shoulder at Charlie as he carefully levitated his
beaten brother towards the fireplace.

“We'll
talk later,” Charlie said quietly. “I...fuck...” He
shook his head. “...why are we all so fucked up?” he
asked rhetorically.

That seemed to relax
George, if only very slightly. “Weasley family curse,” he
joked weakly. “Weasley men just can't resist drama. It's in the
blood.”

“I
hope turning out gay isn't in the blood too,” Ron added as he
helped George get Percy as settled as possible for the trip to St.
Mungo's. “Because, just for the record, I happen to be quite a
bit fond of breasts.”

“Don't
worry, Ronnie,” George said. “When you start taking it up
the arse, we'll spell you a set of your own so you won't miss them
too much. Ow. Bastard. Are you trying to get me
laid
up too?”

“You
and Percy can share a bed. You've apparently been doing that all
along anyway,” Ron answered flatly.

A dead quiet fell over
the apartment once Charlie was alone. He knew his first concern
should be Percy, what he did to him, if he was going to be okay, but
he could barely focus on that for more than a moment. He just kept
thinking about how somewhere, Seamus was drinking alone, waiting for
a lover who was never going to come. Wondering if he'd get so drunk
that he'd let someone take advantage of him the way Charlie had done
a year ago.

***

Seamus was standing alone
in the rain when the clock struck midnight. He listened to it chime
in the center of town, and sighed, pushing off the side of the
building.

“Tha's
yer final answer, 'eh Perce?” He said to himself. “Alright
then.” He took a deep breath and stepped out in to the freezing
rain, bowing his head and walking to the nearest floo the muggle way
rather than apparating. It was a long walk, but that was for the
best, he thought. He was mourning the death of a long relationship,
and thought it deserved a bit of respectful silence. He thought about
the events of the past year. He thought about Charlie's warm smile,
his gorgeous body, the way even the slightest glance set him on fire.
He thought of Percy – their numerous failed attempts to
rekindle a flame that had long since turned to ash. Mostly he thought
about how he was relieved that it was over.

“Resolution
then, right?” he told himself, squaring his shoulders and
taking a good, deep breath. “No more feckin' Weasleys,”
he swore to himself. “Nothin' but trouble, the lot of 'em.”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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It's Complicated