A/N: hey it's me ya resident garbage writer. I wasn't too happy with this chapter, which I wrote a year ago, but my New Year's Resolution is to actually write complete fics this year so I finished and tweaked it and here it is lmao. The third chapter is a less of a mess so it should be published soon. Thank you to everyone who stuck around!
Part II
It was the Wedding of the Century, as the Daily Prophet had so aptly coined it.
He personally liked the ring to it, but he had a feeling that she hated it, if her threatening to bankrupt the Prophet was any indication. He did have to admit that it was a fairly flowery piece, one filled with vomit-worthy cliches about "two mortal enemies finding peace after war" and "bridging the divide and mending wounds inflicted by pureblood supremacy" and "ushering in a new era of inclusion." Merlin, his brothers had promised him that they would never let him live that article down.
Charlie looked across the field, a grin flickering across his lips as he watched the guests mingle. The setting sun cast an ethereal, golden glow over them. It was an absolutely stunning venue, although he was probably a little biased, seeing as he worked here and the place never failed to take his breath away every day. His mother, on the other hand, had nearly lost her mind when she heard that he wanted to get married at the dragon sanctuary he worked at. It had taken some work, but they had managed to convince her to settle down enough to hear out their plan.
He spotted Narcissa and Draco Malfoy standing among the guests and was pleasantly surprised to see them making an effort to socialize with the others. The aftermath of the war had been tough on them, what with the intense scrutiny and judgment the public had put on Death Eater families.
He saw his own mother, with weary but happy eyes, standing next to his brothers and sister. The planning of the wedding had taken a lot out of her, and he could still hear the ghosts of her and Narcissa's voices arguing about which colors best matched the couple's eyes, what flowers were most romantic.
The Malfoys had paid for the entire wedding and post-nuptials celebration, ignoring all protests from his mother and father. 'A small price to pay,' Narcissa had said. 'For the unforgivable things we've done.'
Small was an understatement. Narcissa Malfoy had spared no expense. The flower arrangements alone probably costed more than a whole national Quidditch team was worth, maybe two.
A flash of green caught his eye and Charlie's eyes landed on an extravagantly dressed man and recognized the figure as his fiancée's best friend from Hogwarts. Geoffrey Farley something-or-the-other. Farley's wife, a sour looking woman, seemed irritated by whatever the former Slytherin was talking about, and given Farley's exaggerated gestures, Charlie didn't blame her. He suppressed a chuckle when he saw the unfortunate recipient of Farley's attention. Harry looked as awkward as ever and was picking at his expensive dress robes, despite being the savior of the wizarding world and owner of the Order of Merlin, First Class. He didn't seem to know how to respond to Farley's animated speech, and certainly didn't know how to handle the gaggle of girls—Charlie recognized them to be distant cousins that he'd met a couple times before—hanging off him. Ginny looked apoplectic off to the side, but Fred and George were holding her back fortunately, for Charlie didn't know what he would have done if she'd Bat-Bogeyed the whole lot right before his wedding.
He didn't see many of his coworkers around, but it was most likely because they were off wrangling Lyra and making last-minute preparations to ensure that the venue didn't burn down. That wouldn't be a good situation, and his mum would most likely murder him, though she'd already been close to doing so when the couple had revealed the idea of having their favorite dragon at the wedding.
"Well well, Mr. Weasley."
Charlie was interrupted from his thoughts when a tall woman approached him. He grinned. "Headmistress."
McGonagall simply arched an eyebrow but joined him in surveying the rest of the guests milling about. She was silent for a moment before speaking. "I must say, I had not expected this outcome when I paired you and Miss Malfoy for a mere school project."
"Didn't expect we would come this far?" Charlie teased.
"Certainly not." McGonagall chuckled. "You exceeded my expectations."
"Really?" Charlie frowned. "Only exceeded? I recall we got an Outstanding on that assignment."
McGonagall pursed her lips. "Still as impudent as ever, I see."
"Impudent?" Charlie leaned forward. "You must have me confused. With Fred. Or George. Or Ron."
McGonagall ignored him. Instead, her eyes softened and she rested a hand gently on Charlie's shoulder, giving him a rare smile. "Mr. Weasley, I daresay this union will be one for the ages. I wish you and Miss Malfoy nothing but the best."
Charlie returned the smile and took it a step further, wrapping his arms around the headmistress. "Thank you, Minerva."
A strangled sound was produced from the professor's throat and she patted his back awkwardly. "Yes, quite."
They stood there for a long moment, until the Hogwarts headmistress deemed the embrace too uncomfortable to continue.
"Mr. Weasley." McGonagall cleared her throat and gestured outwards. "I believe your wedding is starting. Perhaps you should take your place."
Charlie jumped back and looked around, startled. True to her words, most of the guests had already taken their seats and the noise level had died down. He shot McGonagall one last smile before hurrying towards the front. He slid into his place, and greeted Kingsley, who winked at him and adjusted his robes.
He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the white tent a small ways off.
It's his first day at Hogwarts and the excitement is buzzing in his ears. He can't wait for any of his classes, and it takes everything to stop from bouncing up and down on his toes. So fixated on his timetable is he that he doesn't watch where he's going. The next thing he knows, he's crashing into someone.
"Sorry!" Charlie scrambles to help pick up the belongings of the girl he'd nearly bowled over. "Are you alright?"
He doesn't receive an answer.
When he lifts his eyes to look at the girl, his heart stops.
She's the prettiest girl he's ever seen, with full lips and kind, grey eyes and he swears that she looks familiar. She sweeps her long, silver hair over her shoulder and it finally strikes him. He's seen her before, or rather, the back of her head, in the Magical Menagerie a week before, cooing over a baby puffskein when she thought no one was looking.
He barely notices her gaze turn to his own hair and the suspicion that replaces the light in her eyes.
And just like that, she's gone in a swirl of robes, head held high in the air.
"Weasley." His friend's urgent whisper pulls him back into the here and now, though slightly unsuccessfully as he continues to stare, dazed.
"Weasley!" His Housemate shakes his shoulder.
"You just ran over a Malfoy."
His older brother clapped him on the back, giving him a little shake that really didn't help and only worsened the bundle of nerves inside him.
"You ready, Charlie?"
He shook his arms, trying to rid himself of the jitters he was feeling.
"More than ready."
"Malfoy and Weasley."
Charlie's heart leaps in his chest but his forehead creases in disappointment upon seeing her clear displeasure for the announcement. When he realizes that she was clearly hoping for a different partner, he picks up his things and makes his way over. She won't be rid of him that easily.
He can't stop the smile that grows when she speaks.
"—do Human Transfiguration. It's probably the hardest topic there is and if we show we've mastered that, it's a guaranteed Outstanding."
It's beautiful, the way she speaks. He can't take his eyes off her lips, so soft and full. He groans internally when he realizes his crush on her is only growing stronger with every second he spends watching her.
"Something funny, Weasley?"
The smile fades and he clears his throat. "No, not at all."
But when she looks back down, he can't help the warmth that fills him.
She's beautiful.
...Even if her declaration of what they should do for their project makes him think she might be a little unhinged.
The flaps to the tent open by themselves, and Charlie held his breath as he saw the figure make its way out and into the long aisle. She was mesmerizing, a stunning vision in ivory blue, and the train drifting behind her combined with the elegant chiffon of the gown gave off the illusion of a goddess born from sea foam.
Charlie couldn't help but let his lips part in astonishment, staring in awe. He didn't care that Fred and George were off to the side snickering with glee at his dumbfounded expression. She was the best thing he'd ever seen in his life. Her grey eyes sparkled at him even from the distance, and a responding smile broke out onto his face.
"It's about the project."
He wears out the excuse until even he's tired of hearing it. But it's the only way he can even get close to her and he'd be damned if he lets the chance slip through his fingers. He suspects she's already figured him out, but the fact that she doesn't push him away each time he approaches her encourages him.
When she up and leaves during breakfast one day, a secretive smile decorating her pretty face, he just knows it was her. He looks down at the glossy broom, a fuzzy feeling dancing around in his chest.
Gryffindors are never subtle about gossip, something that has annoyed Charlie for ages. He's not sure how his deep hatred of it started. But if he had to give a reason, the most likely source was probably near the end of first year, when particularly vicious rumors about her were being spread around the school. He saw her that evening, on one of his nightly escapades to Hagrid's hut. She was perched near a pillar, staring out into the forest. Her short legs swung slowly, the tips of her toes not even close to brushing the ground. When she swiped a hand across her face, he saw the telltale shine of tear tracks on her cheeks. And his young heart ached for her.
"Did you hear?"
"What?"
"About Malfoy."
"Ah, our resident Slytherin supremacist? What about the the bint?"
Charlie lifts his head from where it's buried in a thick textbook about dragon biology. He narrows his eyes, fingers itching toward his wand. A couple pus-squirting hexes would probably do the trick. There was no one else in the common room. He was hidden in the giant armchair facing the fireplace. No one would know.
"Ah, come on. That's a little much. But apparently, she saved Grant from being hexed by her Housemates."
"You're pulling my leg. He's a Muggleborn. Why would she do that?"
Charlie's hand stops in its path toward his belt where his wand is stuck. He smiles down at the textbook, the fuzzy feeling in his chest swelling madly.
He knows he's in big trouble when she spins around in the rain and he can't tear his gaze away. He's glad he's wearing robes. They cover things, important things, particularly things affected by how the rain soaks her clothes and makes them cling to her alluring figure. He thanks everything from Merlin to Salazar Slytherin when the flying tree trunk forces the two together and he has the excuse to hold her. And then he curses everything he had just thanked when their almost-kiss is interrupted. If his roommates notice the extra long and cold shower he takes that night, they don't mention a thing about it.
Their first kiss takes him completely by surprise. Her lips are soft, so soft, but when he suddenly withdraws with surprise, a hurt expression crosses her face and he just knows he's buggered it up.
Their subsequent kisses are so, so much better.
She flashes him a heartstopping smile after their Transfiguration presentation and he's momentarily stunned. Merlin, he loves this witch so much.
Charlie freezes in his tracks. He wonders when that unknown feeling in his chest had blossomed into this.
She met him after what seemed like forever and slipped a hand into his, caressing the back of his hand gently with the pad of her thumb.
"You look oh-so handsome," she murmured, gazing at him with soft eyes.
He desperately wanted to kiss her right there and then but Kingsley cleared his throat, and the couple turned back to the Minister.
"Right," Kingsley grinned at the two. "Shall we get started?"
She moves to Romania with him on the grounds that she's trying to get in some field research before applying to a Ministry position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but there are plenty of better opportunities in Britain so he suspects she had done it partly for him. She even joins the same dragon sanctuary as a part-time Assistant Healer. He wouldn't change a thing about it, if it means he can see her more often.
Charlie learns a lot of things about her, things that most people wouldn't know.
He learns that she hates it when he gets injured, no matter how minor the wound is. But despite her displeasure, she only gives him a chiding look before helping patch him up in the medical tent.
He learns that she secretly loves being doted on. It's only too apparent in the embarrassed smile she quickly forces down when his mum smothers her in affection. "Oh, my sweet girl, you're staying here for the holidays. I won't take no for an answer. You'll stay in Ginny's room, though! I want grandchildren, but not until the two of you are married."
"Mum!"
He learns that whenever she's upset, she retreats back into the cold, sharp Malfoy persona he thought had been abandoned once they finished Hogwarts. In time, he manages to coax her out of it. She tells him he saved her. From her father, from everything she thought she stood for, and even from herself. If possible, he falls in love with her even more. He rather thinks that it's the other way around. She's been saving him from the moment he laid eyes on her in the Menagerie.
He learns that she fits so perfectly in his arms, especially when they're lying on the sofa and she's asking him a torrent of questions related to how the telly works. He doesn't think he'll ever admit to her that he rarely pays attention to whatever is on the screen. He's content just holding her and listening to her soothing voice.
And through everything, he learns one thing about himself.
It's that, for the love of Merlin, he's never letting her go.
Charlie slipped his hand over her palm, flipping it and sliding it over her forearm. Her fingers closed around his as well.
He asks her to marry him over a dozen times but all he receives is a gentle kiss on the forehead and an, "Ask me again some other time, love."
He doesn't blame her. With the rise of Voldemort, there were countless people in the same position, not wanting to make promises with the threat of death so near. And as both of them are members of the Order, the fear is so much more real.
He also senses deep down that despite having been disowned, there's some part of her still holding out hope that her family will be there for her when she marries.
One long and dazzling golden strand slithered out from the minister's wand and wove intricately around their grasped arms.
He searches for her frantically during the battle, having lost track of her at some point. There's a terrible dread in him and his mind can't stop coming up with all sorts of horrible scenarios.
Her lying on the battleground, bleeding out.
A flash of green light.
Strong, grey eyes...empty.
He breathes a sigh of relief when he finally sees her, spinning and fighting so gracefully he could swear she's dancing. Her hair whips around her as she twists around and ducks under curses sent flying her way.
"You."
The hiss is venomous and cruel. He turns to face a man with eerily familiar features and immediately throws up a shield when Lucius Malfoy sends a red curse hurtling towards him, followed by a barrage of curses that keeps him on the defensive.
He's finally unable to dodge the Crucio fired at him and drops to his knees, the excruciating pain gnawing at him instantaneously, rendering him unable to move.
He hears an agonized "No! Charlie!" somewhere off in the distance but he can't tear his gaze away from the tip of the wand that is pointed at him, just a centimeter away from his forehead.
And then there's a flash of green light, but it's not from the wand in front of him.
Lucius Malfoy drops to the ground.
She's there next to him, kissing his forehead, arms wrapped around him like she's afraid of letting go.
It's a different set of grey eyes that stares up at him lifelessly now.
He looked into her eyes, so vibrant and full of life, and the words that came out of him were unwavering.
"I do."
He asks her again, half expecting another "Ask me again some other time".
The answer that comes out of her mouth proves him so, so wrong.
"Yes."
"I do."
The glowing strand wrapped around their arms tightened and shone even brighter, flaring up to radiate an intense but not uncomfortable heat. The light illuminated the rings the couple wore. And then there was a rush of heat and fire roared into the sky above, Lyra's magnificent blue scales glittering as she arched her neck.
Applause roared from the watching guests, the only noise loud enough to overcome it coming from the loud, racking sobs of the half-giant seated off to the side. He saw Narcissa wipe away a few tears, but the movement was almost unnoticeable. Draco was clapping but he had a slightly annoyed expression on his face. Charlie figured him kissing the man's sister probably had something to do with that. His own mother, on the other hand, was weeping openly, clutching his father for support. And his siblings looked overjoyed for him, though he knew that it was brief because no doubt they would be all too happy to return to taunt the hell out of him. Every single one of the idiots at one point or another had made offhand comments about him never finding a relationship with someone who was not a dragon.
He was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, but it was so, so worth it.
Their smiles never faded the entire night, not after touching their foreheads to Lyra's as thanks, nor after having their first dance as a married couple.
He watched, a happy buzzing in his chest, as Hagrid spun her around and she laughed, eyes shining with delight. So distracted by she was Charlie that he didn't notice the pale, pointy-nosed man sliding up next to him.
A hand fell on him, squeezing hard enough to send an ache shooting through Charlie's shoulder.
"Mate," the man gritted out, obviously trying his hardest to seem cheerful. It wasn't working, partly due to the fact that Draco Malfoy was not one to say 'mate.' "You hurt her, and I'll make your life a living hell."
It was rather amusing to Charlie seeing Draco try and be threatening, and though the younger man was slightly taller than him, Charlie was older and far more experienced in dealing with Malfoys.
"You know, your sister said something like that to me a long time ago," Charlie's lips turned up in a small smile as he recalled the memory. "She never had to act on it."
"Hm." Draco sneered, but Charlie could tell it was merely force of habit, having, after all, dealt with his fianc—wife's—many sneers during school. Draco turned to watch his sister dancing with Fred and George, though it looked more like she was being dragged around by the two fools.
Charlie grinned and lifted his glass to clink against Draco's. "To brothers-in-law."
Draco sighed, clearly resigning himself to the fact that he was now technically related to the Weasleys, but tipped his glass towards Charlie before taking a sip. A concerning sound not unlike a cat dying came from behind them and the two turned to see where it had come from. Charlie spotted his youngest brother staring at them with a nauseated expression before Ron darted off, muttering something about being sick to his stomach.
Charlie grimaced. "I apologize for him. He'll grow up eventually, I hope."
"I hate to break it to you," Draco scoffed, "but that's a load of rubbish."
Charlie snorted.
"Hey you." The two men looked up to see the blushing bride—or rather, a smirking one—standing in front of them, her hands propped up on her hips. "Are either of you going to give me a dance?"
Charlie looked at Draco, who shook his head and slapped Charlie on the back. "Go. I've had enough of her stepping on my toes for tonight."
An affronted expression crossed her face. "Go ahead, Draco. Keep talking. I'll remember this when I accidentally slip Astoria naked baby pictures of you."
Draco suddenly succumbed to a bout of coughs, firewhisky dripping from his nose, and quickly excused himself.
Charlie stepped forward and reached a hand out to her, grinning wildly.
"Shall we?"