They write letters.
No matter how many years pass, they still write letters.
Every week, without fail, Lila writes a letter. She typically writes them on Tuesday afternoons, when she finally gets a night off. She puts her pajamas back on, grabs her comfiest blanket, and curls up with her parchment and quill in the window seat of her flat. In most letters, she talks about the craziest thing that happened at St. Mungo's that week. Working at such an unpredictable place, the stories get quite interesting. Then she gets into the more intimate parts of her life. She writes about her confusing feelings, the interesting people around her, her hopes and fears. She puts everything she's thinking of in that letter. Her signature is gorgeous and loopy: Love always, Green. Then she rolls it up, ties it to the leg of her owl Octavia, and sends it off.
Every week, without fail, Charlie writes a letter. He writes them on Saturday mornings before he goes to work for the day. He writes during breakfast, so it's not uncommon for them to have a fingerprint of bacon grease in the corner or a tiny splash of orange juice across his signature. He writes about his dragons in every letter, no matter the other contents. Sometimes it's a long, detailed description of an issue with a dragon. Other times it's a quick sentence explaining that the dragons are doing well. After that, he delves into his life. Like Lila, he writes about his feelings and how difficult they are to understand. He writes about his coworkers and his friends. He writes about his memories, everything that he misses about his life at home and at Hogwarts. He signs every letter: All my love, Weasley. Then he seals it, attaches it to the leg of his owl Antony, and away it goes.
These letters connect them. No matter the distance, neither ever feel as if they've grown apart. They always feel as if they know exactly what's happening in the other's life, and it grounds their relationship.
They're not together. They broke up when Charlie left for Romania, a few weeks after they graduated from Hogwarts. There were no delusions of being able to maintain a long-distance relationship and the pressure that requires. They chose their careers and their dreams, and they're both okay with that. Charlie loves his dragons more than anything, and Lila can't imagine giving up her job as a Healer.
But they're soulmates. They both know it. They both believe it. So it doesn't matter that they're not technically "together." It doesn't matter that there are a thousand miles between them. The love they share is undeniable, and they're confident in it. Even when they test the waters with other people, searching for companionship in some way–deep down they know that whoever it is will not last because they're not Charlie/Lila. That is that.
She lives in London, just a few blocks from St. Mungo's. It makes the commute to work much easier, and she enjoys the city life. Her family died when she was very young, which means that she doesn't have anyone left, and city living can be lonely. His mother hears about this and shows up on Lila's doorstep with a tin full of sweets and a tight hug. With Ginny at Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley has an empty nest, so she becomes a frequent visitor. Lila is happy to take this role, hosting her happily. It's the closest she's ever come to a mother, and she absolutely loves it. When Charlie learns about this new relationship, it comforts him to know that she's not alone.
He lives in Romania, in one of the flats that the dragon sanctuary provides. It's small, but it's his. After growing up in a family that always seemed to be expanding, filling with more and more little, ginger siblings as he got older, he finds that he can't stand the silence. So, he's hardly ever there. He likes to be at the sanctuary with the loud dragons. He's also incredibly social (despite how much he prefers the company of creatures). It's not uncommon for him to go out drinking with his buddies, or go to a party. Still, every time he reads about his mother's most recent visit to Lila, there's a part of him that wishes he could be in London with them. It's always drowned out by the roars of the dragons, and he knows he's where he belongs.
The first time they meet again in person, it's been three years and he's only back for a few weeks. His father scored premium tickets for the Quidditch World Cup, so he couldn't pass up the opportunity. He is so heavily scarred that she spends several minutes just surveying his injuries, complaining about how terrible those Romanian Healers must be. Her eyesight has declined a bit, resulting in a pair of black glasses settled on her nose, and he snatches them from her face almost immediately to try them on. He dances out of her reach, laughing heartily when she complains that he's going to stretch them with his fat head.
They play some one-on-one Quidditch, of course. It's what brought them together, after all.
"Green, your aim is rubbish. My little sister's a better Chaser than you, and she can't even fly."
"Being Quidditch Captain doesn't give you the right to insult me, Weasley."
"Being your boyfriend does."
"Hardly."
She laughs, remembering the bickering they used to annoy the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team with. Their flying isn't nearly what it used to be, but they don't mind. As the Muggles say, it's just like riding a bike.
They spend one official night together. They both saved for this evening, so they're quite happy to splurge for it. Charlie pays for dinner, a high-class restaurant called The Black Quill. It's so fancy that they have to dress up, and she buys a floor-length gown that sparkles like diamonds. It's a delicious meal, and they enjoy their time, but they both agree that it's not their kind of place. They much prefer being in the stands at a Quidditch game, shouting at the referee, or being surrounded by his family, voices talking from all directions and ginger hair atop every head.
He spends the night, and let's just say that they sleep better than they have in years.
However, they both agree that the best part of his visit is the next morning when neither wants to get out of bed. They curl up together in the blankets, bewitching the stove to make them breakfast and then enchanting it to float into the bedroom, settling atop breakfast-in-bed trays. He pours orange juice into two glasses and they clink before drinking contentedly.
Their goodbye is not as dramatic as you'd think. They know that they'll see each other again. He kisses her simply, deeply, holding her in the way that he wishes he could hold her every day. She tells him that she loves him, finally getting to say the words aloud for the first time in three years. He grins, telling her that he loves her, too. And then he leaves. She sighs happily, spending a moment committing as much of the visit as she can to her memory. And then she gets ready for work.
The following years are peppered with visits. Neither can stand another three years apart, so they average a year. Once, she visits him in Romania, a surprise visit that neither really planned but somehow ended up happening. Each visit leaves them feeling refreshed, if not a little bittersweet that the distance keeps them apart.
When the war breaks out, she joins the Order of the Phoenix almost immediately. He does what he can from Romania. She becomes the medic for the order, healing up any and all injuries from whatever missions these people are being sent on. It's not uncommon for someone to show up in the middle of the night, falling over the threshold when she answers the door. She doesn't mind: It's better than the alternative of burying them. The danger of being in the order changes her letters, sometimes forcing her to write incredibly short ones and sometimes becoming so overwhelming that her letter takes several rolls of parchment. He reads them all, and he answers as best he can. His solid, unwavering support is the rock that she needs in the churning seas of that war. He is the reason she survives.
She fights in the Battle of Hogwarts, of course. She is integral to the victory, her Healing abilities saving countless lives. Still, she isn't able to save everyone, and the guilt is nearly suffocating when Fred dies. Charlie's brother, his fun-loving, hilarious brother that he loved so dearly. That she loved as her own brother. Gone. So, when Harry's supposed to have died but is somehow alive and she's in the Great Hall throwing spells at every Death Eater she can reach, ducking when Bellatrix Lestrange fires a Killing Curse right at her, the weight presses down upon her. But then she looks up and there he is, marching in with his wand held high, finally arrived and ready to fight. The weight disappears in an instant, and all she can think is to reach him, to be with him. She is meant to be there, fighting beside him, protecting him fiercely.
He sees her immediately, despite the number of moving bodies between them. He takes down a Death Eater without a thought, hardly even pausing to watch the Death Eater seize up and fall to the floor like a plank. He pushes his way through the crowd. When he finally reaches her, there is no time for a grand reunion. She simply falls into place beside him, aiming a purple spell at a Death Eater pointing his wand at George. The Death Eater's face begins to bubble with boils just as Charlie's mother shrieks, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
Grieving is difficult. Losing so many they loved puts a definitive damper on their letters for a few months after that. She spends more time at his childhood home in the next three months than he's spent in years, and he envies her. He seems to go so easily back to work that she resents him. It nearly breaks them, as their letters get complicated with double meanings and pointed remarks. For a second, she's not sure if she actually loves this man. He questions why he spent years writing her letters.
But then he comes home. He goes to her flat, and she lets him in. The confrontation is not pretty. There are yells. There are tears. But by the end of it, she loves him more, and she knows that no matter their distance, no matter the time that passes, he is the person she is meant to be with. He realizes that this woman has his entire heart in the palm of her hand, and he is comforted by it.
Their lives pass. His siblings all marry, and he gets a dozen nieces and nephews. She's their honorary aunt. His family, which had urged them for so long to settle down and get married, accepts their relationship for what it is. She moves through the ranks of Healers at St. Mungo's until she's the highest-ranking Healer there. Nearly every Healer in that building reports to her, and she ensures that its run efficiently and safely. She loves it. He enjoys his work in Romania, and after he finishes studying the dragons there, he becomes a teacher. There's nothing more rewarding than meeting the new crop of dragon wranglers every year, watching them learn about these creatures that he cares so deeply for. He loves it.
They continue to write their letters every week, and they continue to meet periodically. Somehow, they settle into a schedule of sorts, and they regularly take a vacation together every summer. They travel the world this way, going to New York one year and Beijing the next, and Rio the next, and Melbourne the next. It's fun for them, a chance to reconnect and still get to experience something new. She gets a camera and takes as many pictures as she can. He collects little souvenirs, and they slowly but surely fill his apartment.
It's not until they're quite aged that they finally decide to retire. He's spent sixty years at the dragon sanctuary. She's spent sixty years at St. Mungo's. It's a mutual decision to finally settle down together. Someone new at the dragon sanctuary asks Charlie if he's "got a girl" and for the first time in sixty years, he answers, "Yeah. I do."
They buy a little cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole, not too far from the Burrow. (Harry and Ginny live there now, and it still serves as the home base of the Weasley family, despite the generations that they've added. Bill's first great-great-grandchild is born only two weeks before Charlie and Lila move into their cottage). The cottage is comfortable, perfect for them. It's filled with books about dragons and books for Healing. Numerous photo albums line the shelves, filled with snapshots of their travels. There are purple lilacs growing in the front–Lila's favorite–and Charlie's crafted his own sort of farm in the back, filled with creatures magical and non-magical alike. They spend their days together, taking care of the animals and hosting visits from their numerous nephews and nieces (Charlie is elated when he gets to hold his great-great-great-niece, and Lila cries).
They still write letters, but their letters change. Now they write about their favorite memories, the things they still hope to accomplish before they die. Lila writes about the first time he kissed her in the Quidditch locker room. Charlie writes about the animals he wants to get. They're handed over the dinner table, left on the nightstand with their wand.
They spend 20 years in that cottage together before the day comes that Lila dies. Charlie's lost the majority of his siblings at this point; only Ginny and George are still alive. Even most of his siblings-in-law have passed; Fleur and Hermione are the only ones left. It's dragon pox that kills Lila, the love of his life, and even at nearly 100 years old, Charlie finds the irony in that.
At her funeral, Hermione and Ginny approach him. With their matching wrinkled faces and white hair, you'd think they were biological sisters instead of in-laws. Clutched in Hermione's gnarled hand is a simple white envelope. Charlie's name is written across the front in the shaky scrawl of Lila right before she died. He gets emotional the moment he sees it, but he thanks Hermione and tucks it into his pocket to read later, resolving to cry when he's safely in his house that night.
The cottage is cold and lonely without her. He pulls the envelope from his pocket, settles in his favorite armchair, and tears the flap. He starts crying before he even starts reading, but he blinks the tears away quickly to read it, holding his thick spectacles up to his face.
Dearest Charlie,
It saddens me to know that you're reading this. I hope that this illness does not kill me, but I accept that it may happen. I am quite old, you know.
We have spent our entire lives writing letters, so I decided that I should write a final one; something you could receive after I die, like a little piece of me when I'm gone. It won't be long (even now, I feel this fever fogging my mind), but it will be meaningful.
I want to thank you for the life I've had. Very few people get to follow their dreams, be successful in their career, and find love. I've known several a Healer so lost in their work that they forget to find someone to love. I've also known Healers to be stunted in the progress of their career by the family that they must provide and care for. I never had those difficulties. I always knew that the day I hung up my green robes for the last time, you would be there. I got to advance in my career and not be weighed down by the responsibility of a husband and a family. Our love was so free that I always felt as if I was still my own person, able to make my own choices and grow as I chose. You encouraged it in me, and I thank you dearly for it.
At the same time, you've given me a wonderful life these past twenty years. I got to experience the domesticity that everyone else gets when they're young, and I got to appreciate it instead of rushing and squandering it. It was sixty years in the making, but it was worth it. We finally built a home. Those creatures on that farm of yours became like my children, despite my reluctance. We were a family, and that was all I ever wanted: you and a home that we created.
I've already told you a million times over, but you are my soulmate, Charlie Weasley, and there is not another being on this Earth that I was meant to love as I love you. You are my heart entirely, and I treasure everything between us. So much.
I will wait for you, beyond the veil. As we have been in this life, so shall we be in the next. Because there is not a life that exists in which I do not love you. There is not a world that exists in which we do not end up together.
Love always,
Green
