Charlie came back the next morning looking refreshed and smiling more than usual. It was very common behavior for the redhead on a Sunday, but until now Fred and George hadn't released how unusual it was in a general sense. It was the middle of a war; why would he come back smiling every Sunday? and where on the bloody Earth does he go each Saturday?

"Ready, Fred?" George whispered as they peered around a corner. Charlie was sipping tea and talking animatedly with Bill about the latest news on the trio's whereabouts. Somehow, the twins managed to convince Bill to help them out. Bill gave them to signal when he presented Charlie with a Daily Profit and asked him to read the fine print in one of the articles. As Charlie bent close to the paper, Fred grinned and brought his wand up.

"Ready, George." A tiny vial of veritaserum floated through the air quickly and, with precision and stealth, Fred managed to dump a few drops into Charlie's tea. He pulled the vial back and passed it to George, who stashed it back in his sweater. The two watched, delighted, as Charlie reached for the cup a few seconds later and drank the last bit of it down. Bill looked over at the twins and his lips pulled up ever so slightly into a smile before he continued to converse as if he saw nothing.

"Do you think that's enough time?" Fred muttered a half-minute later.

"Dumbledore got Crouch to talk after about two seconds."

"Yeah, after he drank a whole sodding bottle."

"Point taken. Let's give it another minute. I do believe food is in order."

The twins returned a few minutes later with a plate full of small apple pies that Andromeda brought over the previous day. They set the plate down in front of their older brothers and took seats next to Bill, across from Charlie.

"Hello boys," Charlie muttered into the Profit.

"Yeah, whatever," George spit out. Charlie's head snapped up at the vicious tone.

"What's got your knickers in a bunch?"

"I'm tired of being coped up in the damn house! How on Earth do you manage to get out every weekend?"

"S'not that hard. Mum's used to me leaving, and she knows I won't listen if she tells me not to." Charlie picked up his tea cup and stared dejectedly into it, already missing the sweet taste of Chamomile.

"Where do even go, anyways?" Fred pretended to sulk.

"My fiancee's house." Charlie answered immediately. A few seconds passed silently, Bill, Fred and George staring at their brother in shock, and Charlie staring back with the classic dear-in-headlights eyes.

"F-fiancee? Since when?" The question came from the door, and Charlie wanted to slam his head on the table. Mrs. Weasley was standing in the doorway with a wash cloth in her hands, dangling to the ground, clearly forgotten.

"Since last year," Charlie spit out before he could stop himself. He clapped a hand over his mouth and stared wide-eyed at the twins. "What the hell?"

"You're engaged and you didn't tell us? Why not?"

"Because I didn't think you'd want me to marry a man...bugger!" Charlie jumped up and snatched his cup off the table, half angry and half confused.

"You're gay!" George looked like someone had told him they'd be celebrating Christmas twice this year. Mrs. Weasley had passed shock and was now smiling slightly, as if she had suspected this about her son all along.

"YES! NOW LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!" Charlie was certainly more confused than anything else at this point. He brought his cup back to the kitchen.

"Well, that worked better than I thought it would." A few seconds of silence was broken by a very angry redhead standing in the doorway, glaring daggers at the twins.

"VERITASERUM IN MY TEA!"

"That's our que to leave, Fred."

"I do believe you're correct, George."

They just barely managed to dodge Charlie's hexes as they raced up the stairs, congratulating their brother on his engagement the entire way up.