The Last House

August 3rd

Dear Mum,

I miss you terribly, as usual. I can tell you that I'm doing really well, moving up through the program. Doctor Morris says I'm doing good, I'm hoping I can talk about coming home before Christmas this year. I think I'm ready, I want to be ready. I can't wait to see you again, tell dad and the others that I send my love.

I promise I'm working to make you proud of me, just like I should have years ago.

All my love,

Charlie

Charlie sighed as he folded up the letter he wrote to his mum and carefully penned the Burrow's muggle address on the envelope. Charlie didn't bother sealing it, Doctor Morris would have to check it before it was sent anyway.

Taylor had his headphones in, but he removed one when he saw Charlie stretching out on his bed. "All good?"

Was it all good? Was it all good that Ron's best friend was on the ranch? It was different when it was Draco Malfoy who showed up, Charlie figured if anyone could use some tough love, it was him. But Harry?

"I - yeah, it's just Harry," Charlie said. "I can't believe he's here. Or - I can believe it, but it sucks."

Because, yeah, Charlie could see Harry being pretty damn screwed up. Charlie could see Harry picking up an addiction to cope with and he could see him losing his mind after the war. It was Harry though… little geeky looking Harry Potter with no family and a knack for seeking that put Charlie to shame.

According to Oliver Wood anyway.

"He got moved inside on his first night, so he's a quick learner," Taylor shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

Charlie bit his tongue then and only nodded. Harry was a quick learner, he must have done something right in his meeting with Morris. He'd screw up eventually though, everyone did, and Charlie didn't like thinking about what would happen then.

"Where's Reg?" he asked Trent instead. Regulus's bed was empty, it wasn't curfew just yet. And if anyone would understand Charlie's worries, it would be him.

"Walking," Trent said simply, his hand flying as he drew out some new picture. Most of Trent's walk by his bed was covered in photos he drew, Charlie was in a few of them.

"I think I'll join him," Charlie decided. He rolled over in his bed and grabbed his trousers off the simple wooden drawer set that was assigned to him. Like the others, Charlie mostly kept clothes in his drawers. There were a few letters from his family, not much to show for the year that he'd been there.

If Charlie were discharged the next day, the only evidence he would leave at the Last House Ranch of his existence were Trent's drawings. And that was for the best, really. If Draco and Harry had never arrived, Charlie would have done his best to next think about the ranch again.

There was something peaceful about it though, a peacefulness that Charlie didn't appreciate when he first arrived. Charlie grew up in chaos, he went to school and had constant noise around him. The reservation was always lit up at night, never quiet.

It was nice, walking around the ranch in the quiet. Charlie stopped by the pasture to pet the needy mare that wanted attention for a moment.

"It's your fault she's so spoiled."

Charlie grinned as he looked around through the night until he spotted Regulus. Regulus blended in with the shadows where he laid on the ground, if his shirt wasn't white then Charlie might never have noticed him.

"You keep saying that," Charlie quipped as he went to join him. Regulus wasn't even looking at him, his eyes were pointed up at the skies, always searching the stars.

"She was a perfectly good horse before you arrived," Regulus said. "Now she won't move an inch without a treat."

Yeah, that might have been Charlie's fault.

"You'll understand when you come stay at the Burrow," Charlie told him. "Mum thinks if someone hasn't eaten in an hour they're starving."

Regulus snorted quietly. "It's a wonder you and your siblings aren't all enormous then," he drawled. "I don't remember your mother being oversized either."

Regulus said things like that sometimes that threw Charlie off for a moment. Regulus looked younger than Charlie, maybe Percy's age, then he had to remember what all Regulus went through and achieved in his life.

"Having seven kids changed things, I reckon," Charlie chuckled. "Mum lost her girlish figure, Dad lost his hair."

"And you lost your marbles," Regulus said. He lifted his hand and waved it lazily. "The Weasley's are well-fed and terrible at keeping track of things."

If anyone else said it, Charlie might have been offended. It was Regulus though, Charlie had gotten used to him since they met. Wand to his head, Charlie might admit that Regulus was something like a brother to him.

A bloody annoying little bastard, in other words.

"What's on your mind, Charles?" Regulus asked after a few minutes of silence. "I imagine you'd find my cousin if you only wanted company."

"Aw, don't be jealous," Charlie joked. "You know you're my favorite ex-death eater."

Regulus rolled his eyes, Charlie didn't have to see it to know he did it. It wasn't wholly true in any rate anyway, for all their similarities - Regulus and Draco were pretty damn different from each other.

"If that were true, we'd be having a very different conversation," Regulus said drily. "As it is, I imagine you want to talk about Potter."

That was one of the big differences between Regulus and Draco; Regulus knew exactly what was on Charlie's mind and Draco never would have guessed.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, trying to find a way to very carefully word his worries.

"It's windy tonight," Regulus said casually. "Particularly in this spot."

Which Charlie could roughly translate to mean that if they kept their voices low, their conversation wouldn't be picked up.

"Harry's soft, vulnerable," Charlie told him. "I don't know if this is the right place for him. I don't want him to get hurt."

Regulus hummed and Charlie sank down in the grass, relieved to just have shared the worry with someone. As prickly as Regulus acted, Charlie knew he would understand it.

The ranch got Charlie sober and he was grateful, but it wasn't for everyone. Harry was tough, everyone knew that, but it was like one of Charlie's own siblings walked in the door and every session he had, every punishment that Charlie went through, looked entirely different.

"He's a Potter, they're tougher than they look," Regulus finally said. "To hear Draco tell it, James's son makes a hobby of defying odds."

Yeah, Charlie grinned a little bit, Harry was good at that. The ranch was different than a war though, it was like… it was like being at war with themselves and not knowing which side to root for. There weren't clear rights and wrongs, not when they were fighting their own demons.

"Why aren't you sleeping then?" Charlie asked. Regulus liked watching the stars, he had a real knack for divination, but he was quieter that night, more withdrawn than usual.

"Because James Potter's son is here and I don't want to see him be hurt," Regulus said simply. "And yet… it all feels inevitable, Charlie. We were meant to be here and he was meant to be here. I didn't see it before, but I do now."

Charlie looked up at the stars and tried to see what Regulus did, he tried to see what the future held. Was it inevitable? Were the plans for every being written in the skies?

Did the stars know that they were going to take Fred, Tonks, Mick? How much of it was destiny and how much happened despite the stars?

"What do the stars say will happen next?" Charlie asked quietly. They didn't speak to Charlie like they did Regulus, the stars were only stars to Charlie.

"The sun is going to rise," Regulus said. "Sirius is going to ensure it."

It didn't mean anything to Charlie, but it seemed to bring comfort to Regulus.

Charlie's new charge was released the next morning to help with the chores. They all rotated their work during the day, everyone except for Charlie and the other buddies spent at least two hours helping in different areas.

That morning Charlie had Tony and Eddie, both of them bleary eyed and quiet while he went over what they needed to do. Tony, bless him, was still a menace in the kitchen, even after three months of Charlie trying to teach him.

It was safer to send Tony to tend to the garden in the mornings, less risk of him starting a fire. It also gave Charlie a chance to chat with Eddie.

"Did you cook much?" Charlie asked, sliding a bowl of batter to be mixed to Eddie. "Most of these guys never have," he went on when Eddie didn't answer. "Billy's not bad, but I can't trust Spencer or Tony with the stove yet."

Eddie, who had plenty to say on his first night, only stared at Charlie with a dazed expression. Charlie's stomach flipped and he kept up his easy conversation while he put the spoon in Eddie's hand and helped him mix.

"Tony's a genius, an absolute bloody genius, so is Spencer. I think geniuses just have to have one thing they're complete rubbish at to make up for it though, eh? Think about it, they're both good looking blokes, brilliant, probably completely loaded. So the Gods decided they can't cook worth a damn to try and even it out."

When Eddie didn't so much as twitch a lip, Charlie sighed. Some of them were like that, after a heavy session or a punishment that went too far. Charlie turned Eddie's head and stared hard in his eyes, nodding to himself when he decided the poor bloke was drugged to his teeth.

"You have to help so you can eat," Charlie told him quietly. "Just stir this, okay, Eddie? You'll feel better when you eat."

It was hard to not see some of the others in the ranch as kids; just kids who were hurting and found some nasty outlets for their pain. Charlie didn't know how Eddie ended up there, but nobody was on that ranch because their life was too happy.

Eddie managed to make his hand move a little, small mechanical circles that would be enough for Charlie to count it as effort. Charlie buzzed around the rest of the kitchen and filled the silence with his voice while he made breakfast for everyone.

"Trent used to cook before I came, he wasn't bad, but he wasn't used to cooking for so many people. Now me? I've got five brothers and a sister, I - I…" Charlie trailed off when the sharp pang in his chest told him his mistake.

Had.

Past tense.

Charlie had five brothers.

"I know how to cook for a lot of people," he said instead, pushing past his own mistake and the grief it brought. "And I'm a dab hand in a garden, I'll show it to you tomorrow. It's nice, growing so much of our food here, it makes you feel accomplished, you know? I felt about twenty feet tall the first time we used one of my tomatoes in a meal."

"Hey, there's only room for one massive ego here." Tony came in through the back door, the basket in his arms filled with some of the last produce they would get for the season.

Eddie came to life a little bit then and he drifted closer. Charlie thought maybe he wanted to check out the fruits and vegetables that Charlie inspected, but it was Tony that had him fascinated.

"Iron Man," Eddie said, all of the life gone from his voice. It would come back, when the drugs wore off, it made Charlie wince anyway to hear it.

Tony tilted his head at Eddie and Charlie shot him a warning glare. Tony was a good bloke, but he had a sharp mouth. Eddie didn't need any sass, he was probably drowning beneath whatever drugs Morris gave him.

"Tony," Tony corrected him. "Great hair, by the way. I think Billy has you beat with the whole 80's rocker curls, but it's a great ‘do."

Charlie had been worried, but maybe he shouldn't have been. Tony had a sharp mouth, Charlie heard him go off a few times, never to one of the kids though. And Tony pulled Eddie from his fog because, only for a second, Charlie got to see him actually grin.

It was a start.

The three of them (Charlie, mostly) finished breakfast right on time and took it out to share with the others. Charlie was surprised to see Harry sitting between Spencer and one of the new guys, Sam, talking quietly to them both.

"Quiet, please," Charlie said, regretting that it instantly silenced Harry. It wasn't Charlie's rule, it was Morris's - silence during meals was supposed to enhance their appreciation of the food.

It made sense, Charlie never thought much about the food he ate when he ate at home or Hogwarts or the reservation. Charlie had always been so focused on the conversation and laughter that food had been a secondary concern.

Taylor led them all through their morning meeting, a quick rundown on what needed to be done for the good of everyone, then Trent divided people up for life skill sessions.

"We have three life skill sessions going on today while some of you will be meeting with Doctor Morris," Trent said, his eyes on Regulus's wrist. "We'll be dividing in groups of three. Taylor will take Spencer, Tony, and James to run the horses."

Tony, who usually got on just fine with everyone, glared darkly at Bucky. Charlie looked between them subtly, wondering if they knew each other. Tony used to work on a team of enhanced muggles with non-magical powers, it wouldn't be the most surprising thing if Bucky had been on that team. It was odd for Morris to have accepted Bucky if so though.

"Regulus will take Eddie, Billy, and Sam to work on financial budgeting in the library."

"Guess we still have fucking math class together," Billy said, tossing a fist out to Eddie that went ignored.

Did… did they know each other as well? Surely there were other psychiatric centers in the States…

"Harry and Draco will join me outside for yoga," Trent finished, confirming Charlie's guess that Morris divided people up into groups based on their own histories. Why else would Harry end up in a group with Draco?

"At ten thirty we'll meet in the library," Trent finished. "Charles, Doctor Morris wants to see you first today."

Charlie's stomach flipped, but he kept his smile up when he noticed Harry watching him. The sessions weren't bad, really, they were usually more uncomfortable than anything.

Draco hovered in the kitchen doorway while Charlie, Tony, and Eddie did a quick cleanup from breakfast. Draco reminded Charlie of a young Ziloh Dragon sometimes; the way he seemed to buzz with silent energy, when he rocked anxiously on his toes. Draco's eyes would follow Charlie around a room occasionally, something that Charlie would have gotten a big head about in any other situation.

"What's up, Dragon?" Charlie teased him, pausing to chat for only a minute before his session.

"I just wanted to say good luck," Draco said. His hand shook at his side and Charlie was touched when he slipped something to him, a small yellow dandelion.

"You got me a flower?" Charlie grinned widely, he couldn't help it. "See? I knew you liked me even if I'm poor."

"Don't flatter yourself, Weasley," Draco scoffed, his cheeks pinking. "It's a pity gift. Since, as you said, you're so terribly poor."

It was an insult and it wasn't. Charlie pocketed the flower and felt a little spring in his step up to Morris's office. Draco only liked him because Charlie was a wizard and they were so isolated, but it still felt nice to have a fit wizard giving him flowers.

It did anyway, until Charlie's session with Morris reminded Charlie of what being close to Charlie would mean.

Doctor Morris's office was comfortable at first when Charlie went in and settled on the couch. There was a screen that played a flickering fire and Charlie could smell it, the warmth it brought, the memories of the reservation it brought him.

"I wanted you to feel at home," Morris said, gesturing to the screen. "I'm afraid I thought a dragon might have been a bit much for our session today though."

"One day you can come to a dragon reservation and I'll help you find a small one to bring back," Charlie grinned. "Therapy dragons, Doctor, they're the next big breakthrough."

"I'll have to take your word for it, Charles," Morris said, chuckling lightly. "I'm afraid if it weren't for you young men, the animals here would be neglected. I can't imagine what I would do with a dragon."

Dragons were incredibly self-sufficient though; they were strong, fierce, brilliant. Dragons knew when to run from danger, when to face it down and emerge victorious. They were a bit like Draco like that, all fire and thick scales on the outside, but soft and caring on the inside.

Or maybe Charlie was romanticizing things again, he did that sometimes - seeing things as more than they were.

"I thought that we would talk about Mick today," Morris said, flipping Charlie's stomach inside out. "You don't talk about him and it's important for your recovery to face the guilt you carry of his death."

Charlie didn't talk about Mick because talking about Mick made Charlie want to scream. Thinking about Mick, about his laugh and his love of life, made Charlie sick from the inside out.

"It was my fault," Charlie said thickly, his fist clenched in his pocket around the fragile dandelion he was given. "Mick… it was my fault."

"I know," Morris said softly. "You loved him and your love killed him. I'd like us to talk about that…"

Charlie really didn't want to talk about it, but he knew he didn't have an option.

It was one of the sessions that made Charlie sick to his stomach. It was worse than a crucio, reliving Mick's death and having to share every detail, every mistake Charlie made. It wasn't just a war against himself, it was a war against who he had been, who he could be again.

By the time Charlie had finished his session, weighed down and distracted by Morris making him take accountability for what he did, the dandelion in his pocket was completely crushed.