The cheers of the family struck Lyra instantly. They screamed and cried out with joy, they clapped, they sobbed, they beamed.
But it was all too much for Lyra. The months of counselling she had endured after her victory, the months of listening to Charlie's whispered endearments, of Sirius comforting her when she sobbed. Twas all for naught.
They crowded her, their loud voices echoing in her head and sending her straight back to the months of fear, of isolation, of split second reflexes. They sent her straight back to the battles that she fought at the beginning of May when she finally defeated Voldemort and freed them all. The shouts of celebration became the shouts of curses, the claps became the falling masonry. The Burrow became Hogwarts again, not of her childhood but the ruined, shattered castle of that horrendous day.
And Lyra did as she always did. For her life, freezing was never an option. Never a reflex to her petrified mind. Instead, with shaking hands, her wand came out and with the last grip of control she had over her mind - that these were her friends, her family, her loved ones - she disapparated.
Charlie felt her absence beside him rather than saw her go, and turned just a second too late, reaching out for the air where just a mere moment before her arm had been. Lyra was so used to apparating now, so accomplished, that when she did disapparate it was with the smallest of pops, rather than a crack, as the space she had filled suddenly was vacated.
It was hopeless. She had gone.
He turned with a sudden fierce anger to his family, righteous indignation at their causing of Lyra's disappearance, but his anger faltered as he looked at them, as they faltered in their joy. He could not fault them for that, as he himself was over the moon with excitement at the thought of becoming a father. Their little babies would be the second and third of the new generation of the Weasley family, joining Victoire who was herself treasured and loved. His family would adore his babies, and he understood their excitement. But they had let it overflow enough to cause Lyra to panic and flee.
His anger gone, it was just regret that he had as he faced them that Lyra couldn't stay for this. But he understood better than anyone that she couldn't, and normally his family and Lyra's friends understood that even years after the war, she was always still on edge, ready to fight her way out at any time. But with the arrival of their twins, his darling little babies, (and with which thought, his face involuntarily creased into a smile) naturally with the news that there would be two babies they forgot themselves.
For there before him stood a whole host of Weasleys, all with the same overjoyed smile on their faces.
He mingled with them, receiving embraces from his parents, his brothers, his sister and his sister in law, all were thrilled to hear their news, to hear of his two babies growing in Lyra's womb. Fred and George, particularly, were thrilled to have another set of twins in the family. The last pair, their uncles Gideon and Fabian, had died when the twins were but three years old. They could barely remember their uncles, Ron couldn't remember them at all, and Ginny had never met them. So they wanted to teach the little Potters all about being twins, for Fred and George didn't have those bonding experiences with their own uncles.
But none of the Weasleys were Lyra, and Charlie was not absolutely certain where she had vanished to.
His wife, the woman who held his heart more than anyone in his family did, was scared, and she needed him. He would go to her, but he knew not where she was.
It was lucky Lyra did not splinch herself, when she fled. Her fear that had come to her so instantly had forced her to leave, and it was only a small part of her head that prevented her from hurting the others. With that focus in her head as she disapparated, it was a wonder that the focus she needed to not splinch during apparition was there also. Even more so with her twins held inside her.
She emerged in hills she knew well. Very well. If she looked outwards, she could see the sea, hear it crashing against the rocks along the shore. She stood there in the silence, the wind whistling through the heather surrounding her. If she looked down the rugged hills, she could see Hogwarts, her first real home, and Hogsmeade alongside. Hogwarts was what had led her to Sirius, to Remus, and ultimately, through Ron, to Charlie. Lyra loved it, and she loved the lands around it. They had been her refuge after she had defeated Voldemort. She and Charlie had spent hours here, in the desolate slopes of northern Scotland. It wasn't silent, exactly, but quiet. The wind was ever present, the frogs would croak in Spring, the deer would turn up in Autumn and fill the air with their bellowing. It was a refuge to both of them. Untainted by war, Lyra loved it. She could recover here, and breathed slowly as her body relaxed and she listened to the bird song. The cheers of her family mixed in with the shouts of curses and falling masonry, and her own thumping heart beat, finally faded away.
It was here, eventually, that Charlie found her, staring out at the sky and Scotland both. He joined her silently and gripped her hand in his as they watched the sun sink.
Finally, he spoke.
"Ly, love. Come home."
The smile Lyra gave him was warm and tender, and caressed his own heart. She was always more peaceful, more serene, from being up here. It healed her, and had worked its magic again that day. It wasn't hard to persuade her to return with him, and so she did. Back to their home, where tomorrow they could face their family once more.