CHARLUS DIDN'T TALK FOR TWO DAYS AFTER REMUS' VISIT. Instead, he sulked in his room with his curtains drawn, leaving him to wallow in darkness. It was a lot for him to take in; Sirius being accused as a murderer and a traitor, his family dead with only one remaining who knew where, and he had not been able to do a thing to prevent it all. Guilt was eating him alive from the inside out and even as he tried to solve things, it seemed everyone was so focused on telling him that he was wrong.

Everyone looked at him as though he was mental for believing that his husband was innocent, they figured that he just needed time to adjust to the world he was being reintroduced to. They pitied the poor Potter that had been tortured, knowing what he had been  The information he had wasn't enough to free Sirius and maybe that was why Fudge and Dumbledore didn't bother to come to visit him.

They simply saw it as a waste of time.

And after feeling sorry for himself, Charlus realised that he was wasting his own time. He had been out of the loop for five years and spending any more time in St Mungo's wasn't doing him any favours. If there was a chance of getting Sirius out of Azkaban, he wasn't getting any step closer by staying in bed.

"Alright, Sirius," he whispered, " I'm going to figure this out. Not sure how yet, but I'll figure it out."

Pushing himself up into the sitting position, Charlus grimaced as he could feel the stiffness in his body. During his time at St Mungo's, the Healers including Maeve worked with him to rebuild his strength, but things didn't move at the pace that he wanted. He continued to work hard, wanting to push himself, but they told him not to overexert himself because he could get hurt. Whenever he wanted to move about, he was supposed to summon one of the Healers to assist him, but that morning, he was tired of calling on others.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he stretched his arms and back, taking several deep breaths as he fought through the soreness. He looked across the way, where his own private mirror and sink was in the room. Slowly, using the end of his bed frame, Charlus struggled to stand up on his feet. It was his first time doing so without the aid of Healers standing on either side of him.

It was definitely a struggle without two people assisting him as he found himself suddenly breathing heavily. However, he didn't dare call out for help, knowing that he needed to recover in the eyes of the Healers before he was allowed to be let go. If he didn't make any progress, it was only going to delay his true plans.

Slowly, but surely, Charlus made his way over to the wall that he could use to support, however, just as he was closing in, there was a small gap between the wall and the sink that would leave him with little to hold. With a frown, he grumbled to himself before blowing his hair out of his face and that was when he realised just how long his hair had become over time.

Curious as to how the rest of him looked Charlus took one step away from the wall and then another, but determination didn't seem to be enough.

In mere seconds, Charlus found himself on the floor, the wind knocked out him partially before he rolled onto his back with a painful groan. As he tried to gain the strength to get up again, he found himself laughing as all he could think about was back when he and James had turned seventeen years old.

They were of age in the wizarding world finally and to celebrate, they went to Hogsmeade with their friends and found themselves in the Three Broomsticks, toasting with Firewhisky. Although after several toasts, Charlus and the others quickly learned that while Charlus could eat until the end of the day, he was a total and complete lightweight when it came to handling liquor. Firewhisky left him with weak legs and a serious case of the giggles by the end of it all.

He found everything funny and it was up to Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter to get him back to the castle. Of course, they had arrived after the curfew hours and it was only their luck that they had been caught by Professor McGonagall. James and Sirius sobered up quickly in the presence of the Transfiguration professor, but Charlus was red in the face trying to suppress his laughter.

They were given detention and told to return to their respective dorms, but while James had the support of his friends, Charlus had to make it to the Ravenclaw tower by himself. He told everyone he could manage, but as he took five steps away from the group, he managed to fall over. Professor McGonagall covered her face with her hand to avoid witnessing any further embarrassment, but as she stole a second glance, she watched as Sirius made his way over to lift Charlus to his feet.

And maybe the saying was true that drunken words were sober thoughts, but the next set of events had been completely unexpected for everyone involved as Charlus thought it was the perfect time to profess his love for Sirius in the corridors of the school.

"This man...have I told you lately how great he is? No, but he is. I love him, I love him so much. I love everything but I love him more."

Sirius' face was taken over by a strong blush as everyone attempted to hold back their laughter. Before Charlus could say anything else, Professor McGonagall volunteered to be the one to escort him back to the Ravenclaw Tower, otherwise, who knew where he would end up.

"Alright," he had whispered to her," but we should keep it down because Professor McGonagall might catch us and give us detention."

Looking back on such memories, Charlus was expected to cringe but all he could do was smile. It was the first time he had said that he loved Sirius and even though he was drunk, it didn't mean that he meant it any less.

"Oh, my Merlin! Charlus, are you alright?"

Maeve stopped herself when she realised that the man on the floor couldn't hear her. Rolling her eyes at her own action, she hurried over to help him up to his feet. As soon as he caught sight of her, he offered her a smile, which was a definite change from the last couple of days. After Remus Lupin had left, Maeve feared that Charlus was closing himself off to a world that he didn't feel like he belonged to. She knew that she was just a stranger to him so Maeve didn't expect him to confide really anything to her, but there was always a sliver of hope that she tried to hold onto.

"Sorry," he said to her, " I wanted to look at myself in the mirror and I fell."

"You should have called for someone," Maeve told him, " there are plenty of us around willing to be of assistance."

Charlus didn't say anything, perhaps she had been speaking too quickly for him to read her lips, or maybe had nothing to say. Instead, he rolled onto his side before fully rolling onto his stomach. He was able to make it onto his hands and knees, keeping himself supported despite his arms shaking. Maeve reached out to assist him, but Charlus shook his head, paired with a grunting noise that told her to leave him be.

She remained off to the side, however, at any point where she thought he was going to hurt himself, she was prepared to step in whether he wanted her help or not. But to her surprise, Charlus made his way back up to his feet and stood up. He remained slightly hunched over, taking several shuffling steps over to the sink where he was able to grip the sides and support himself.

"Oh wow," she heard him say as he stared at his reflection, " I look dreadful. Why didn't any of you tell me I looked like this?"

Maeve couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. It was probably the last thing she had thought of him being concerned with, but to hear him question why none of the Healers had told him that he looked dreadful, she couldn't think of a response right away.

As he continued to look himself over, Charlus leaned his weight against the sink, freeing up one hand to play with the beard he had grown over time. He brushed back his unruly black hair before shaking his head and peering down.

"Do you know where my wand is?" he eventually asked her. "I'd like to tidy up."

Once again, it was left on Maeve to deliver another round of bad news. She shuffled uncomfortably before Charlus looked over his shoulder in her direction, waiting on her answer.

"I'm sorry, Charlus, but it was snapped...that night."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I should have known."

"But maybe I could help you?"

Charlus remained incredibly still as Maeve had his wand pointed at his face, clearing away his beard. She had asked him if he wanted her to just shape it up for him, but he declined such an offer, he just wanted it gone. It had been such a shocking experience to see him with a full beard since he hadn't witness himself grow it over time. It was like going to bed one night without one and waking up the next day with it.

And yet, it had been a whole other experience to know that the night he had been attacked, he was only twenty-one years old and upon waking up, he realised he was twenty-six. The beard, along with the lack of colour from not being outside and active, left him looking older than he was used to.

"Would you like me to cut your hair?" Maeve asked him at one point, only to be met with laughter before Charlus shook his head.

"You could try but Potter hair has a mind of its own."

How many times as boys James and Charlus had taken to cutting each other's hair as a prank, only to have it grow back overnight. And no matter what Euphemia did to try and tame their locks, nothing ever seemed to work. It would drive the woman absolutely mad some days, especially when she wanted them to dress up, the reason behind the messy hair of the Potter men had always been a mystery.

Fleamont claimed that before he lost his hair that there was never a solution. Even when he invented Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, it had done absolutely nothing for him. He spoke about there possibly being a family curse of some sort, it sounded silly at the time, but as life went on, maybe it wasn't such a far-fetched truth.

"I guess you're right," Maeve said, " I used to cut your hair while you were resting, the next day I would come in, it was like I hadn't done anything. I thought it was one of the other Healers playing a trick on me or something."

"My brother shaved his head once back when we were in school," Charlus told her, " it was for his Quidditch team. He and his other teammates, even the girls, they all agreed to shave their heads for the start of the season. Still to this day I never understood why but they went through with it. They thought James was a complete bastard the next day when he came to practice with a full head of hair. So they shaved it again, by dinner it was already growing back about halfway and they had monitored him  the entire time to make sure he wasn't slipping something."

"Well, the rest of them could have taken something to grow their hair back overnight. We have some of it here for those that lose their hair to potion explosions and backfiring spells. Although  I heard the sensation is an absolute nightmare. Your head itches like mad the entire time."

They continued to talk about hair as Maeve confessed that her hair had been a problem since she was young until she discovered Sleekeazy's. It was odd that she was treating the son of the inventor, but she was honoured to do so because it was due to the potion that she could actually run her fingers through her hair without ripping out half of her locks.

When Charlus was in a good mood, he was easy to talk to because he appeared to be calm the majority of the time. His voice was soothing too as he mainly spoke in a steady tone that left Maeve curious.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" she began at one point. "About your deafness?"

"Go ahead."

"Were you always deaf? I only ask because you speak like...like a hearing person."

Charlus let out a light snort before nodding his head. "You don't have to feel shameful about it, you're not the first person to ask. I was born deaf, but I worked really hard over the years to perfect speaking like I would if I could actually hear. Not for myself though, I've always preferred using sign language."

She could definitely tell as she watched his hands always signing when he spoke out loud.

"But to make it easier for other people. I don't expect everyone who's going to encounter me in life to know sign language and when I attended Hogwarts, it was incredibly difficult in the beginning. Everyone tried different things but it's hard when there is that barrier. And I was so tired of writing things down on paper all the time to carry a conversation. So, I developed several of my own spells to assist me."

"Really?"

"Yes, when it came to speech, I made a mirroring charm that allowed me to sit with someone and recite words the way they said it. So, if it was me and my brother, he would say a word and as he said it, my mouth would mimic it at the same time. It helped me with pronunciation and volume, it took ages really, but it was worth it. I didn't want to be out of the loop. I'm proud to be deaf, but I also wanted to be included."

"You attended Hogwarts, how...how did the Sorting work for you? Were you able to hear it in your mind or something?"

Charlus shook his head. "I never let the Hat on my head, it rested in my lap and when it made the decision, my brother signed it to me."

"So you don't know the reason as to why the Sorting Hat put you in your house?"

"No, but for whatever reason it had, I think it was right."

Once Charlus was cleaned up, he made his way back to the mirror and this time, he did not fall. As he stood in front of his reflection, there was a relief that he looked like his old self again. He didn't look older as he feared, even if only five years had passed. Maybe he was paler but he could fix that with some time out in the sun, the most important thing was to get out of St Mungo's.

"Alright," he said, " I think I'm ready."

He turned to Maeve to see that she looked confused. "Ready for what?"

"To leave."

"Uh, Charlus, as much as I would like to see you out of here, it would be best to wait until you're actually ready to go-"

"I am ready to go, I need to go home, gather my thoughts and come up with a plan. Every day that passes is another day Sirius sits in a cell. I can't just keep waiting around here, Sirius needs me."

Maeve was shaking her head and Charlus was certain that she was going to tell him to let the idea of Sirius' freedom go. She was among the many that probably believed that Sirius was guilty, so she was going to advise him to not waste his time.

"I don't think that's a good idea-"

"I know you don't think Sirius is innocent, but you don't know him. Not like I do-"

"No, Charlus, I mean, I don't think it's a good idea to return home because it's not there anymore. It's not waiting for you. When Sirius went to Azkaban, your house didn't just sit around and wait for someone to hopefully come back. I'm certain there's someone living there now and your brother's home...it...it was destroyed that night. Unless you know of another place..."

He hadn't thought it all through but Maeve's final words stabbed him more than once.

"...I'm afraid you don't have a home to return to."

No husband, no family, no friends, no home, and no wand. If it weren't for Maeve's presence, Charlus would have believed that he died that night and had gone straight to hell.