A/N: This chapter is completely in Charlie's POV. It's probably my favorite chapter so far, but it was difficult to write with Fred's death and all of that. I really would have kept him alive but it seemed better for the plot to leave it cannon. :( as always, read and review!

-Morrigan

I own nothing recognizable.


It had been exactly one week since Lyra had left her chambers. When she and Charlie arrived at the Manor after seeing her father; she shut herself inside and only allowed Narcissa to bring her food. She said she needed space, time to think over everything that had happened in the last few weeks.

Charlie had left her alone after the second time she asked him to go away. He didn't want to push her, but he was inexorably drawn to the witch. They hadn't been friends, or really even acquaintances while at Hogwarts together but he had always been keenly aware of her presence, even then.

It wasn't that he didn't have the guts to approach her, or that he didn't think it could work between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. In fact, his grandmother on his father's side was a Slytherin and his grandfather had been a Gryffindor, and he didn't know of a couple that had loved each other longer.

No, it was because Lyra Lestrange was one of the most intimidating witches he had ever laid eyes on. She was smart and very beautiful, but most of all she was mean. She wasn't cruel like her mother; she was defensive and often hostile, probably because she had spent most of her life standing up for herself against people who assumed that she was just like her mother.

Even when she wasn't ripping you a new asshole, her confidence was enough to make grown men cower in the corner, Charlie always assumed it was a trait she got from her mother. She always stood tall and never seemed afraid of anything.

She wasn't like that anymore though, Charlie thought. She was broken. She was just a girl who had been cast a crap lot in life and had had to deal with more than any other witch her age. From what Draco had told him, her mother had forced her to take the Dark Mark and join the Death Eaters and that she had argued with Bellatrix about it for weeks beforehand. When it came time she stood straight and didn't even flinch even though Draco said it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced, like a concentrated Cruciatus Curse right on your forearm.

He had gotten two days off from his guard duties to attend Fred's funeral, with Smith taking over for him at the Manor. The funeral had been huge, hundreds of witches and wizards paying respect to not only a war hero, but also someone who had made them laugh and smile in a time when they needed it most. He had given a speech, since he had been closest with the twins out of the rest of his siblings. It was a nice speech; everyone had told him it honoured his brother well. But Charlie felt empty inside; he just wanted to go back to Malfoy Manor where he could pretend nothing was wrong.

His family and some friends had gone back to the Burrow after the service. He would have preferred not to join them, but he knew he had a duty to the memory of his brother to be there. He was sitting on the floor at the end of the sofa in the living room, staring into the fire when he felt someone brush against his side.

"Hey," Hermione said, offering him a cup of cocoa. Her bushy hair was tied into a loose plait down her back, and there were tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Hey," he said, taking the cocoa gratefully. It may have been the middle of June but cocoa always seemed to make him feel better.

"I can't stand this," she said after a few moments of staring into the fire. "I don't want to be here and I don't want to cry anymore."

He set his cocoa on the floor and stretched his long arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "I'm sorry, Hermione I don't know how you're getting through this."

She snorted. "He was your brother and you're holding up better than I am."

"Did he know how you felt?" he asked gently.

She nodded her head against his shoulder. "Yes, when I was staying here last summer before Bill's wedding we both finally admitted it to each other. I can't believe it had taken us so long."

Charlie laughed. "I think he'd fancied you since your third year."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I'd fancied him since my first year."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

She sighed. "We thought it would be best to wait until the war was over, and you know how much your mother wants Ron and I to get together."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Ron is too much of a prat for you."

Hermione lifted her head and grinned at him. "I hadn't seen Fred in almost a year until that day, you know."

He squeezed her shoulders. "I'm so sorry Hermione."

"Me too," she said. "How are things going with the Malfoys?"

He looked back at the fire and sighed. "Good ol' Lucius seems to have lost his mind entirely, he doesn't say much and really just goes through the motions. I think if it weren't for Narcissa he would probably just die. Draco actually isn't as much of a prat as I thought he would be by the way you lot always talked about him."

Hermione huffed. "I'll believe that when I see it. How is Lyra?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably and Hermione arched a brow at him. "She's, um, well, she's fine."

"Charlie," Hermione said softly, knowingly.

He sighed and rubbed his jaw; the stubble there was more than he was used to. "I took her to see her dad and she hasn't come out of her bedroom since then."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well she did just lose her mother, and her father is likely to get the Kiss. That's a lot for anyone to handle."

Charlie nodded solemnly. "I just wish I knew how to help her."

"She'll come to you when she's ready."


When Charlie woke the next morning, his back was stiffer than it had been in a long time. He was too big for the bed in his childhood bedroom, even though he wasn't as tall as his brothers, his feet still hung off the edge.

The house was quieter than he had ever remembered it being as he crept down the squeaky stairs. Nearly everyone was gathered in the kitchen even though it was early, Charlie assumed everyone else had as hard of a time sleeping as he had.

There were a few mumbled "good mornings" when as he sat, but the kitchen was silent otherwise. He sat next to Hermione who had dark circles under her eyes and hair sticking out at odd angles. She offered him a half smile and passed him a few pieces of toast and the jam.

"So Charlie," Ginny said from across the table. She looked better than Hermione did, but only just, her normally sleek and shiny red hair was a matted mess and her eyes were bloodshot. "How are things going with the Malfoys?"

Molly choked on her tea and every other pair of eyes focused on the second eldest brother.

Charlie sighed. "It's been going pretty well actually. They're not as terrible as I had envisioned. They're mostly just tired and sad."

Ron snorted. "What have they got to be sad about? They didn't lose anyone!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him across the table. "Yes they did, Ronald. Don't be so daft."

Ron furrowed his brow in confusion. "Who?"

Charlie rolled his eyes at his brother. "Lyra lost her mum and her dad is probably going to get the Kiss."

Ron's mouth dropped open as everyone else watched the exchange. "They're all bloody Death Eaters, it's their bloody fault this happened in the first place!"

Charlie clenched his fists under the table.

"It doesn't matter if they were to blame or not," Harry said wisely. "Death of a loved one isn't an easy thing to deal with even if you're a Death Eater."

A few hours later, after a lunch of sandwiches Charlie decided to check on George.

He knocked softly on the twin's bedroom door. "George? It's Charlie."

There was a quiet thump and then the door clicked open and Charlie could hear his brother shuffling back to his bed. He pushed the door open and walked inside. It was almost completely dark inside except for a lamp on George's nightstand. The younger twin was laying facedown on his bed.

Charlie pulled the chair out from George's desk, careful not to touch anything on Fred's side of the room and sat down next to George's bed.

"Don't ask me how I feel," George mumbled into his pillow.

Charlie half smiled. "I wasn't planning on it little brother. I'm just looking for a little insight."

That got his brother's attention. George lifted himself up on his elbows and looked at Charlie through bloodshot eyes.

"You know I'm staying with the Malfoy's, acting as their guard while they're under house arrest?"

George nodded slowly and Charlie went on.

"Well Lyra asked, or demanded rather, that I take her to see her father before his trial. So last week I did and she hasn't come out of her bedroom since. She only allows Narcissa into her room to bring her food."

George fully sat up, his back resting against the wall and sighed. "You want me to tell you what to say to her to get her to open up to you."

Charlie grinned. "Pretty much, yeah."

George pursed his lips. "There isn't anything you can say or do, she lost her mum. I dunno what that feels like, but I'm sure it must be awful. I didn't know her that well at Hogwarts, but she was usually fairly nice to Fred and me. I know she lived with the Malfoys since she was seven and she never condoned what her parents did, but I know she loved them."

Charlie nodded, a slight frown now on his face. "What about after they broke out of Azkaban?"

George shook his head. "I dunno, she was out of Hogwarts by then. But I can assume that she was pretty torn about it. She's not a bad person, she was just in a shitty situation."

They were silent for a few moments, Charlie picked at his nails and George stared across the room at Fred's unmade bed.

"I think the best chance you have of getting through to her is with Fred."

Charlie cocked a brow at him. "How so?"

"Tell her that you can relate," George said. "Tell her you know it's not the same thing, but that you just lost your brother, having something in common will at least get you through the door."

Charlie's mouth twitched up in a half smile. "You are the best, Georgie."

George almost smiled and Charlie stood up to leave the room. He had his hand on the door when George spoke up again.

"Wait," he said and pointed to a box at the end of Fred's bed. "See that box? Inside are some sample boxes of our best selling Wheezes, give one to Lyra I'm sure it'll make her laugh."


That night after dinner Molly pulled Charlie to the side.

"I want you to be careful at that Manor," she told him, holding tight to his arm. "They're dangerous people."

Charlie pursed his lips at his mother. "They don't have wands, Mum. And if you could see them right now, you'd know they're not so dangerous. They're too tired to be dangerous and they've been through a lot."

Molly looked offended. "Like we haven't! My son is dead!"

Charlie closed his eyes and counted to five. "Mum, I know that. You don't think I'm grieving too? They're a lot like our family right now, they're grieving over someone they loved."

Molly scoffed. "No one could have loved that horrible woman."

"Mum," Charlie said as calmly as he could. "When have you ever met a child who didn't love their mother? Lyra is twenty-two and her mum just died. She's having a rough time."

"I can't believe you have any sympathy for these people!"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "You know that Draco and Lyra were fighting on our side, against their parents the entire battle? And that if it weren't for Narcissa lying to Voldemort, Harry would be dead right now?"

Molly huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction.


The next morning Charlie woke up early, having said his goodbyes the night before he wanted to get out fast. He stopped as he got to the last step when he heard someone sniffling in the living room.

Quietly he crept into the large room; he could see Hermione's bushy hair sticking up over the sofa.

"It's okay Hermione," he heard Ginny say softly. "It was just a bad dream."

He felt bad for sneaking away, but he didn't have the patience to deal with crying girls at five o'clock in the morning.

When he apparated back to the gates in front of Malfoy Manor, he looked around the dismal grounds and decided that if Lyra still wasn't willing to talk to him, he would get Draco to help him at least get it back to a presentable state outside.

"Has she come out yet?" he asked, popping his head into the library where Draco was reading a book on the sofa.

Draco pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't think she'll come out until our trials start, but you're welcome to try again mate."

Charlie shook his head once and walked back down the corridor towards her room. It was on the same floor as Draco's, but it was on the opposite side of the hall. He paused when he reached her door, his hand poised to knock.

He still wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, but her father's trial was two days away, maybe if he promised to take her she would let him in.

He knocked twice but there was no response. He knocked again, louder this time and said her name. Still, no response. Just as he turned to walk back to Draco's room, the door clicked open.

He grinned, pushing the door open and stepped inside just as a frilly pink pillow hit him square in the face.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he laughed, tossing the pillow onto the bed next to her.

She looked better than he expected. Her eyes weren't bloodshot; she looked freshly showered and was wearing clean clothes, even a bit of makeup if he guessed correctly.

She smirked at him. "Old times sake," she said cheekily. "What do you want, Weasel?"

He rolled his eyes and sat down at the end of her bed. "First of all, I want you to call me Charlie, not Weasel."

She arched a brow at him. "I'll think about it."

He laughed. "Good enough, second I have something for you."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Well," he said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for the shrunken box. "I went home for my brother's funeral a few days ago and I got this from George."

He took out his wand and returned the box to its original size. "It's—"

"I know what it is," she said, eyeing the box. "It's their best selling items."

He smirked and nodded his head, offering the box to her. She took it, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Thank you," she said and looked up at him, brows furrowed. "I'm sorry about Fred."

He nodded slowly. "I'm sorry about your mum."

She sighed and set the box on her nightstand. "I want to go to my dad's trial, I'm assuming it's going to be before any of ours."

"I was afraid you'd ask me that," he said. "Of course, Kingsley has granted you all permission to attend, since you are family, but I don't know if that's such a good idea."

She shook her head. "I don't care if it's a good idea or not. I want to go. He's my dad."

Charlie heaved a heavy breath and closed his eyes, and she knew she had him.

"Thank you," she said and before he could respond she planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

His eyes fluttered open and she was sitting only a foot away from him and looking at him like he was a knight in shining armour.

"Y-your w-welcome," he stuttered, his cheeks turning pink.

She smirked at him and crawled back to the head of the bed. "When is the trial?"

"Two days," he said, cringing when her face fell.

"Right," she said stoically. "Tell my aunt that I'll come down for supper tonight, please."

He knew that she was dismissing him so he stood and left, closing the door behind him.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" he said, knocking quietly on the open door to her study.

"How many times do I have to tell you Charlie? Please call me Narcissa."

He smiled and stepped into the room. "I talked to Lyra, she said she's going to join us for supper tonight."

The blonde witch arched a brow at him. "How did you convince her to do that?"

He grinned at her. "I didn't have to, I gave her a box of my brothers' products from their shop and agreed to take her to her father's trial, that's all I did. The supper thing was all on her own."

Narcissa smiled and patted the sofa cushion next to her. "Come and sit," she said. "I pulled out an old family album, your grandmother is in it."

Charlie sat next to the older witch, curious about the book on her lap. She pointed to a very old black and white photo of three very pretty young women.

"This one," she pointed at the middle girl who had fair hair. "Is your grandmother. She and my grandfather were cousins, you know."

He shook his head. "I knew she was a Black, but I didn't know how closely related our families were."

"That makes you and I third cousins, and you are third cousin's once removed with Draco and Lyra."

He shuddered at the thought and to his horror Narcissa noticed and smiled at him knowingly.

"Don't worry," she said with a chuckle. "It's far enough removed that it's perfectly fine that you fancy her."

Charlie's eyes widened and a blush crept along his neck and up his cheeks. "I-I don't—"

Narcissa's smile widened. "You don't have to pretend with me, Charlie. I think you'd be good for her anyway."