charliecraw

[charliecraw]

summerharlowe:

It was difficult being annoyed over her disastrous potions exam when she was talking with Charlie. He was such a happy guy, always smiling, always making her laugh. Still, she worried about her grades, but she still had to time to correct her mistakes. “Well, imagine me without eyebrows. Sure, I would’ve just grown them back with a spell, but still…” It was ridiculous, the very image. Summer couldn’t help but laugh. Charlie being a disciplinarian was an altogether hilarious notion. “You’re going to be the firm hand to teach me potions? Sorry, Charlie, but that just isn’t you. You’re too… Happy. I would never take you seriously.” Summer laughed heartily, an unusual thing for her to do.

Charlie laughed at the image of Summer without eyebrows -- shaking his head with an amused grin. “You never know, the lack of eyebrows might suit you. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he teased. He’d had his own fair share of potions disasters -- the occasional singe or sticky spill. He pretended to pout as she laughed at the idea of him being the bad cop -- raising an eyebrow challengingly. “I don’t know -- speak to the rest of the Quidditch team about what happens on my bad days. I mean, not much, but -- I can get kind of grumpy. You wouldn’t want to see me grumpy...”

[charliecraw]

danikas-lense:

Dani made a face, half-pouting half-laughing, “The quote isn’t good unless you keep the spanking. But no gravestone quite yet, we need that panty-dropper smile around a bit more.” she settled back against the tree and began to shuffle the cards in her hand, cutting them over and over again with the ease of practice. “The only asses I’m interested in are petty girls, besides, if I wanted to get some tail I would go for it. Besides, you act as if you’ll win, which you won’t. Besides my great love of a fine ass has been cultivated.”

“It’s like you’re trying to make me blush,” Charlie replied with a laugh, his fingers curling into the grass as he sat. “No gravestone yet, though, you’re right. There are a few more things I’ve got to do before I pop my clogs.” His eyes followed the cards as she shuffled them, listening to her talk of asses with an amused smile. “Pretty girls aren’t just their asses, Dani,” he teased, waiting for the cards to be dealt. “Objectifying them won’t endear them to you.”

[charliecraw]

FROM CHARLIE’S MUGGLE INSTAGRAM

@crawcraw [with @eoincraw]: This is why our mums say we can’t have nice things.

[*whispers* give me an eoin]

[charliecraw]

florafraser:

Spotting Charlie in the common room, Flora flounced over, dropping into the seat next to him on the couch and plucking the book straight out of his hands. After appraising the cover and seeing that she didn’t recognize it, she flipped through the first few chapters before she realized the gravity of what Charlie was reading. “Oh, not you as well,” Flora grumbled, like a toddler who’d been told she couldn’t have dessert before she ate her vegetables. “Everyone in this bloody castle is so worked up about politics all the damn time, and I wish they’d all just give it a rest. No one here is going to make a difference in anything going on outside these walls. All they’re doing is giving me a headache.” She pouted, looking to Charlie, expression forlorn. “Things used to be so much simpler.”

Charlie allowed Flora to pull the book from his hands, watching with mild interest to see what her reaction would be. He chuckled a little at her response -- reaching out to gently take the book back, placing it down beside him. “Sorry, Flo. I know things are serious, but that’s only ‘cause -- well, ‘cause things are serious. Just trying to... stay woke. Like the kids say.” He shrugged, a little smile playing on his lips, watching the pout. Not long ago, he was as inactive on the situation as she was. “Did they used to be simpler? I don’t think they were for the people involved. I know it’s difficult to hear about, but if that’s the only impact it has on us, then we’re the lucky ones.” Perhaps she was right -- and perhaps there was nothing they could do to change the situation. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t care about it. “Even if you don’t want to go round crusading on the cause of human rights... there’s this muggle poem, which is actually pretty Slytherin sounding. First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Socialist. Etcetera, etcetera.” He waved his hands in a circle as he recited the lines, the nature of everything cyclical and repetitive. “And the last part is then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. It doesn’t affect you now but if you don’t stand up for others, why should they stand up for you?”

[charliecraw]

fitzwilliamvauxhall:

“Human is a bit strong of a word, isn’t it?”

“Not really, no. It’s actually about as simple as it can get.”

[charliecraw]

[charliecraw]

elliot-fincher:

Not thinking? I could have told you that, Elliot thought, snidely. It was an asinine and petty thought, totally unwarranted. Nevertheless, it made him feel the tiniest bit better. Elliot’s head began nodding, automatically, as Charlie began to issue orders and ressurance. Charlie did know his full speed, because Charlie paid attention. More attention than Elliot would have liked, actually. With Darcy it had always been, figure it out, Elliot. I don’t care how. Get it done. If Elliot screwed up, he screwed up. It was a pass/fail thing. With Charlie it was different. It was like he said: “You know I’m here watching you.” Charlie didn’t just want Elliot to perform. He wanted Elliot to perform better. Charlie took the time to study his players’ times, speeds, tics, strengths, and weaknesses. If Elliot screwed up, he wanted to know why. Even Elliot didn’t care to know why. Elliot tended to stay far away from people who asked him important questions, who said things like, “you need to trust yourself” and “you can’t fool me.” But he couldn’t ignore his Captain, and it chafed to be in that position.

“Sing?” Elliot exclaimed, and groaned, tipping sideways into a barrel roll the way he might slide bodily off a couch to express the amount of I give up he felt. Mentally, however, he was already flipping studiously through a rodolex of bands and song titles. Something slow? Something fast? A classic? What would Charlie recognize? “Charlie–” But Charlie continued, talking over him, and his tone brooked no room for argument. Elliot huffed once more, for good measure. “Got it,” he said, too quickly, just thankful that Charlie was done analyzing him. 

Trust himself? The gentle admonishment grated on him as Elliot tilted back and began to climb in altitude again. Trust himself? He trusted himself plenty. Who else could Elliot trust anymore? What did Charlie know? He didn’t know – he didn’t –

All too quickly, Elliot reached a height appropriate for diving straight towards the fucking ground. His mouth still tasted faintly of oranges from breakfast, bitter and sweet. He could taste it better when he inhaled through his mouth. Out through the nose, in through the mouth. Elliot stopped just level with the turrets of the faculty boxes, leaning forward on his broomstick with his head down and his eyes closed, and breathed in the chill air that smelled like spring. Trust himself. He was aware that Charlie was watching him, probably wondering what was taking so long. It was just that Elliot’s thoughts were – he was like a record, skipping, always tripping over thoughts he’d learned to ignore. It was Astoria, last semester, who had made Elliot realize that was why he’d had – still had, some days – difficulty with nonverbal spells. He didn’t like to sink into his thoughts long enough to be able to produce a spell from them alone. What little trust he placed in his own judgement had always been frail. Ugh. Seriously, fuck Charlie.

Elliot rose up from where he’d leaned far over his broomstick, flashing the ready signal at Charlie and adjusting his goggles. Charlie didn’t give him the go-ahead in response, and Elliot threw up his arms until he realized, oh. Right. Singing. Elliot gripped the broomstick more firmly and squared his shoulders, kicking forward into a slow glide. “You’ve transfigurated my heart,” Elliot began, through gritted teeth, shooting Charlie an is-this-what-you-want-you-sick-bastard look that was probably lost somewhere in the many meters between them. As his Starsweeper built up speed, Elliot was forced to raise his voice over the wind. His embarrassment became background noice in the face of focusing on controlling his flight. Making a mistake at these speeds was dangerous. “And now it only beats for you.” Elliot’s chest loosened as he whipped around the pitch for the second time, pushing 60, 80, 130 kph, and Charlie, and the whole world, became a blur below. “If I could Apparate into your arms, maybe I wouldn’t feel so blue. Feels like you slipped me a potion. You’re all I think about, my only notion – and I wish you’d be my witch tonight–”

The scepticism on Elliot’s face only caused Charlie to raise a challenging eyebrow, knowing that his methods, however ridiculous, could actually get results. He needed Elliot focused on his feelings, not on his thoughts: he didn’t want him to try, he wanted him to just do it. That was the key to Quidditch -- that was why they practised. They worked hard in training so it could be easy on the pitch. He spoke over Elliot’s attempts to interrupt him, his only reaction a slight smile at his response to the idea of singing, resisting an actual laugh. He wondered sometimes how ridiculous he could make his drills before his team twigged that it was a joke -- but for this particular exercise, Charlie was certain it would work. He watched as Elliot got ready to kick off, glancing around the stadium to ensure the sky was still clear -- no birds to hit, no sign of rain. Elliot would be thrilled to know that they had all evening to keep training.

“Remember -- wait until you see red sparks, and then dive as soon as you do. Don’t think, just do it.”

His eyes followed Elliot as he rose into the air once more, fingers rapping on his broom handle where he gripped it lightly. After a few more attempts, they could stop for a break -- there were only so many times he could watch Elliot hurtle towards the ground before even he needed a drink and a snack, but for now, he wanted to get him into a rhythm. Don’t think, just feel. Charlie felt cheesy for even daring to say it -- but if it was what Elliot needed to hear, then he’d repeat it like a broken record. His head rotated slightly as he watched Elliot race around the pitch, nodding slightly to himself as Elliot signalled that he’d reached full speed. Charlie was satisfied with that -- he wasn’t satisfied with the lack of karaoke.

It was difficult not to laugh as Elliot remembered to sing, the tune just reaching him, sounding shaky and windswept. He approved of Elliot’s choice, bopping along jokingly as he continued to watch the other boy fly around the pitch. But for all his amusement, for all the gentle coaxing and coaching he was giving Elliot, Charlie knew that this was bigger than just Quidditch: this was about Elliot, and if Charlie could genuinely help him with... whatever, then he’d leave the pitch satisfied. And if it gave them a bolder, better seeker, and a better chance of winning the cup this year? Then that was just a bonus.

He let Elliot continue for about half a minute, watching him carefully as he flew. Hopefully, Elliot would be reacting by instinct -- and so it would be up to him to make sure Elliot’s dive was safe, the ground beneath him wide and clear. Calculating Elliot’s speed, he accounted for a countdown of his own, and for Elliot’s reaction time: and in a sharp motion, Charlie raised his wand. Red sparks flew over the pitch: Charlie’s eyes fixed on Elliot.

the feint | charlie + elliot

[charliecraw]

theprxdigalson:

❝Shut up Crawford, the rest of us can’t study if you took out loud. Keep it to yourself.❞ He eyed the boy with an arched brow, unable to hide the disgust, as if Charlie merely breathing was a punishable crime. Hours in the library were an asset, that Darcy more or less desperately needed in order to get anywhere close to his high expectations. He certainly, didn’t want nor need, Crawford being an annoyance. He groaned, if the library provided private rooms of study for those with a few extra coins to spare he’d happily oblige. No matter the cost. ❝Are you quite done now?❞

Charlie’s intention wasn’t to be annoying -- his muttering had simply been to himself. But when he looked up and noticed Oldridge staring at him, chastising words on his teammate’s lips, Charlie saw an opportunity to tease him that couldn’t be missed. “I’m just sharing my wisdom with you, Oldridge. I know how you struggle -- don’t criticise me for being so charitable towards your education.” In the face of Darcy’s scowl, Charlie smiled -- slightly sarcastic, but a smile nonetheless. “Not quite. Y’see, a caterpillar is a little insect -- sort of how you view anyone with a lower social status to you, but an actual bug. You put them in potions. You got that? Note it down, I don’t want you to forget.”

[charliecraw]

danikas-lense:

Dani grinned and slumped back against the tree, her fingers still shifting the cards, dexterous and used to the art of playing cards. “Isn’t being a handsome fucker with a panty-dropping smile immoral? If so slap me on the bottom and call me a sinner, cause you’re comin’ right down with me buddy boy.” she smirked and rolled her eyes at his idea of ‘bad boy’ certainly wasn’t him. Not by the longshot and having to compete with the virtual mess that was Ravenclaw Boys. “I dunno, I was contemplating which game to smoke your ass in Charlie-boy.”

Charlie blinked a little at Dani’s description of -- him, apparently, a laugh on his lips and a slight redness to his cheeks. “Put that on my gravestone, yeah? Maybe not the part about slapping your bottom -- that’d be inappropriate. But the panty-dropping smile bit -- that’s a solid recommendation.” He moved to sit down opposite the girl, stretching his legs out as he waited for her to deal whatever they were doing. “You keep talking about asses today. Should I be worried about this new fixation of yours? Seems easy to distract you in this game if I start bringing them up.”

[charliecraw]

The book Charlie was reading was, perhaps, an unusual one for a Hogwarts student -- he doubted the 1960s Civil Rights movement in muggle America came up too often in class. And yet this damned school, the word Greyfield  on everyone’s lips -- it was getting to him. It was only recently that he’d been forced to pick a side, turning down Tegus’ job offer to keep his inventions on the right side of history, but the more he thought about it, the more upsetting he found it. His Slytherin nature had made him cautious, but he’d been a hat stall for a reason: a sense of justice, and of right and wrong, too strong in him to deny. As he reached the climax of the book, those eternal, groundbreaking words, Charlie felt the hairs on his arm prick up. “Separate is not equal,” he quoted to himself, feeling the gravity of the phrase even spoken just to himself. “Actual goosebumps. And not just because it’s surprisingly cold for this time of year.”

[charliecraw]

summerharlowe:

Annoyingly enough, Charlie was one of those people who had dug his way through her walls, she shouldn’t like him, but she did. “The damn potion exploded and damn near took my eyebrows with it,” Summer added, unable to keep herself from laughing in response. Charlie, forever the optimist. “I’m actually good at potions, I was just incredibly distracted. So much for all the studying I did. Are you offering to tutor me, Charlie?”

“Okay, but -- it didn’t take your eyebrows. Every victory’s a victory, however big or small.” A teasing smile on his lips, Charlie was pleased to see Summer laughing. If he could make a few people smile each day -- well, that was good enough for him. For now. “I can tutor you if you want. Sounds like you need a disciplinarian. Someone to yell at you when you get distracted. A firm hand, a strong focus. And I can almost certainly -- find somebody else to do that for me.” He was the one laughing this time, good-natured, a little self-deprecating. “What can I say? I’m always good cop.”

[charliecraw]

wren-turnbrook:

“Let’s put it this way; I don’t give a fuck if what I’m doing is ‘tarnishing my family’s good name’, so either get me the detention or don’t. I’ll even let you join in if you don’t.“

“I’m less concerned about your family name, and more about -- y’know, your lungs. They brand those things with ‘smoking kills’ for a reason.”

[charliecraw]

fitzwilliamvauxhall:

“So. Tegus is shipping all the mutts off to Greyfield. I’ll drink to that.”

“No celebration quite like one celebrating the violation of basic human rights.”

[charliecraw]

izzyarundel:

A sigh of relief escaped her lips at his reply to her. She didn’t want to seem rude or anything. It was the last thing she wanted. Besides, she had an “image” to obtain these days. The last thing she needed was to make her mother upset. “Arithmancy can be pretty time consuming. I hope I wasn’t concentrating too hard.” She joked. The only thing she knew about Charlie was that he was a Slytherin and he played Quidditch. She felt bad but if he wasn’t in her year, she probably wouldn’t even know his name. Yet he seemed like a decent person from when they spoke in the past. “History of Magic essay on the Giant War of 1292. Doing a compare and contrast to three other wars. Professor Binns is obsessed with this topic and though I grow tired of it, it’s still fun to find out new pieces of information about it.

Charlie listened as she described her essay, shaking his head a little at her comment about Professor Binns. “Knew there was a reason I gave up History of Magic. It’s all fun and games until you have to analyse the historical significance of one giant hitting another one round the head with a park bench.” He allowed a slight laugh, dipping his quill into his ink pot and quickly jotting down a few numbers as they came to him. Sometimes, shifting his focus helped him work -- calculations going on in the back of his mind while something else took precedent. “What else do you take?” With exams looming, discussions of subjects were on all the students lips. “I think we did a lot of the same O.W.Ls.”

[charliecraw]

izzyarundel:

“Finally done.” A sigh escaped her lips before she smiled down at her paper that she just finished. She loved History of Magic but that essay Binns gave the class was a bit much. At least she gave it a head start unlike most people in her class might have done. She looked up from her paper to see that someone was sitting across from her. Blush slowly appeared on her cheeks. “How long have you been sitting there? I was so into my essay I barely realized you were there…Sorry about that.”

Lounging on his chair in the library, entirely too relaxed considering his assignment was due so soon, Charlie watched as Izzy finished her essay with a flourish. Twirling his wand between his fingers, a lazy smile crossed his face as she finally noticed him, nodding to her with a grin as she spoke. “No worries. Been here a few minutes, just thinking about these Arithmancy problems.” He knew Izzy vaguely -- having shared classes in the past, always unsure quite where the Ravenclaw stood. Though he himself had been unsure on that until recently. “What were you working on?”

[charliecraw]

summerharlowe:

“Oh, I really hope I did well on my Potions test. I messed up that one potion, but I need a passing grade. I must have passed right?”

“‘Course you passed. Don’t look so worried -- I know you did fine.” It was with a reassuring smile that Charlie spoke, doing his best big brother voice. “And if not, I can help you out. Potions is easy once you get your head around it. Think of it like maths, but stuff blows up if you get it wrong.”

[charliecraw]

danikas-lense:

Dani grinned and shuffled the set of cards she had laying out in front of her, some ickie fifth year walking away carrying a much lighter purse and she just a number of galleons richer. “Now, what would you like? Wanna lose a bit of money while I wait for charms to start?” she leaned back against the tree she was using as a backrest and the cards laid before her on a rock, “Or did you come by just to say hello to little ole me?”

Charlie watched the face of the fifth year with a laugh -- it was tough to get burned. He turned his attention to Dani as she began speaking, raising an eyebrow at her challenge. “Isn’t gambling immoral?” he teased, stepping forward to look at the cards in her hands. “It’s a good thing I am known as somewhat of a bad boy around these parts.” It was with a self-deprecating smile that he spoke, fishing into his pocket for a few sickles. “What are you playing? I hope you realise how competitive I am.”