Chapter Thirty Nine: Softly

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On September 25th, in a quiet ceremony at sunset, Charlie and Regan were married. Just where the tall grass had begun to grow, an arch of twisted wood had been erected to frame the couple. Charlie wore a dark grey suit with a neatly tied red bow tie, a feature that was actually able to make Regan smile. The bride, who had refused numerous times to wear anything white, chose something quite different. She wore a short A-line vintage dress that she had found while shopping alone in London. The bodice fit her figure, sheer cap sleeves contrasting against her pale skin. The dress was a light gold with gold metallic embroidery focused around the waist and then scattered across the bodice and skirt. The little tulle that lined the skirt made it appropriately full, swishing whenever she walked. She had borrowed a pair of pale gold peep toe pumps from Hermione, which almost made her just as tall as Charlie. She did her own hair and makeup, braiding the side of her hair and pulling it all into a bun. Her face was left mostly natural, her eyes accented only by soft eyeliner and well applied mascara.

The quick ceremony transitioned to the tents where the feast prepared by Molly was waiting for them. The reception had very much the same feel of Ron and Hermione's; everybody was relaxed and content to just enjoy the company of their friends. Dickens was having a ball, roaming under the tables and getting whatever bits of food he could find. By the time he returned to Regan's side, he was too full and could only rest comfortably on his back.

All the while, as people merrily drank and chatted, Charlie was looking rather glum. Regan found it peculiar and at ten, when he was no longer paying attention to anyone around him, she took his hand and gently squeezed it.

"You look upset, is anything the matter?" She quietly asked. Charlie glanced at her, offering her a warm smile.

"Nothing's the matter," he assured her. Regan quirked an eyebrow.

"Well if I had known that marrying you would make you so depressed, I would have never agreed to it." Regan said with a playful smirk. She was relieved when he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

"To be honest, there is something that I'm a bit upset about." He admitted. "You see…I tried to do something nice for you as a surprise…but the surprise never showed up." Regan shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't need a gift from you," she told him.

"Yes, I know, but…this was really important…" Regan gently ran a hand across Charlie's steadily growing hair, kissing his cheek.

"Whatever it was, you can always…"

Regan abruptly stopped speaking when Charlie looked towards the wide entrance at the front of the tent. Off in the distance, a car was slowly pulling into the Weasley driveway, hidden almost completely by the tall yellow grass. Charlie practically jumped out of his seat, rushing to the car and waving to whoever was inside. Regan was extremely surprised to see Draco get out of the driver's side, greeting Charlie with a firm handshake. From the boot of the car, Charlie hauled out a folded wheelchair while Draco opened the door for whoever was in the back. They both awkwardly helped a frail, older man from the backseat and helped him to sit in the wheelchair. His face was gaunt and he appeared to be extremely thin, his worn clothing nearly falling off of his slumped shoulders. He wore a pair of wire glasses, barely hiding a pair of dark, sunken eyes. His hair was thin and completely white, though Regan had the feeling that he was not as old as he may have appeared to be. Charlie knelt down in front of the man, shaking his hand with a broad smile. Regan kept staring, unsure of what to think. How was this man connected to Draco and why was Charlie so eager to meet him?

As Charlie and the man carried on a hushed conversation, Regan was struck by the notion that she knew this man. Despite his frail form and wrinkled features, there was something so familiar about him. And then Regan saw his tie and she knew instantly.

When Regan was four, the first father's day that she could remember, she got her father the traditional gift of a tie. She had felt so grown up as she walked into the department store with her mum. It had only taken minutes, but she was so proud of her selection. It was a light blue tie with bright yellow ducks printed across the shining silk. It was her father's favorite tie and had earned Regan the nickname ducky. Though the silk had darkened and the thread of the ducks was starting to pucker, Regan knew.

This frail man confined to a wheelchair was her father.

Some time while Regan was caught up in her thoughts, she had gotten up and slowly walked towards the tent opening. She stood completely frozen in the doorway, watching Charlie slowly rise up from his knee.

"I thought that you were dead." Regan said as she fought back the lump in her throat. Crinkles became defined as he smiled and brought tears to Regan's eyes.

"Not quite, ducky."

It felt so good to hear his voice again. Regan sprinted the short distance and dropped down to tightly hold onto her father. He may have appeared so pale, but his hands were warm and welcoming. She did little to hold back her sobbing, Mr. Westwood patiently running a hand across her back and letting her sob, for he too had tears in his eyes. She had been convinced for so long that she would never see either of her parents ever again; this moment was like a dream. When she began to hiccup and it became hard to breathe, her father pulled her back by her shoulders to look her in the eye.

"Calm down, can't have you getting sick on your wedding night." He said with a small chuckle. "Come on, let me have a good look at the bride and groom." He insisted, offering her his pocket handkerchief. She mopped up her face, standing and allowing Charlie to take her hand. He smiled brightly, his sunken chest quickly expanding with pride. "Quite the attractive couple." Regan smirked, sniffling a little as Charlie held on tight to her hand.

"Are you hungry, Mr. Westwood?" Charlie asked. "I don't mean to brag, but my mum makes the best pot roast you've ever had."

"Well you don't need to tell me twice when there's food to eat!" He exclaimed with a hearty laugh. "Would you mind pushing me in?" He asked Charlie, who quickly nodded.

"Of course, Mr. Westwood."

"I've already told you; there's no need to call me Mr. Westwood, dad woks just as well." Charlie smirked, watching Regan take her father's hand.

"Sorry dad, I'll remember that for next time."

They talked for hours, eating every last bit of food and burning almost all of the candles. Regan couldn't bring herself to sleep until she had heard everything that her father had to say; she needed to hear this. Not surprisingly, Lucius had found Regan's parents years before he had ever met her. When Regan had appeared in Lucius's home and he had searched for her parents, he lied about their state of existence to keep Regan close. If she was alone in the world, then she would have nowhere else to go.

Since they were spies, Regan's parents were kept in Azkaban and tortured routinely for any information. When it had been decided that they had nothing to tell, they were locked away, completely separated for over six years. Mr. Westwood wouldn't even come to learn of his wife's death until a year after she had passed, when a particularly cruel guard had chosen to torment him that day. He didn't know how or why she had died, and the location of her body remained a mystery.

All he knew was that when they had been liberated last winter, she was nowhere to be found.

Mr. Westwood had been completely displaced and had been placed in a home for elderly survivors simply because he was unsure as to whether or not Regan had survived.

And then, he turned on the news.

Time and time again, Regan's story was retold almost constantly and he learned that his daughter had been dubbed the ultimate undercover auror the magical world had ever seen. Apparently, being a spy was a family affair.

Mr. Westwood had instantly contacted the Ministry to try and reconnect with his daughter, but he was placed on a long waiting list of people who needed the exact same help. He wasn't sure where to start looking on his own, but luckily he didn't need to give it any thought. He was visited by the last person he ever expected to see: Draco Malfoy.

Of course he had seen all of the stories and was aware of the role that Draco had played, but he was still understandably wary. They had spoken for quite a while, Draco sharing the story that nobody else outside of Malfoy Manor had ever heard. Draco said, multiple times, that he saw Regan as the most selfless person he had ever met and if it weren't for her involvement, Lucius would still be alive. And Mr. Westwood was even more thrilled when Draco assured him that he knew exactly where Regan was and would take him to her straight away.

Draco had kept his promise; he had found the only family that Regan had left.

And here they sat, together after years of thinking that the other was dead. His time in Azkaban had aged him horribly, but Regan saw that it was still her father. She felt like she was fifteen again whenever her father called her ducky, which he did so quite frequently. But when the sunlight began to peek through the door of the tent, they all knew that it was time to call it a night. As much as Regan didn't want to, she let Draco take her father back to his small flat while Charlie and Regan headed back to their home in London. Dickens was snoring away as soon as he flopped down in his bed while Regan and Charlie worked to darken the entire flat. Regan was a little surprised to find their bedroom recently cleaned with rose petals in the shape of a heart atop their dark grey comforter.

"I told them not to do anything." Charlie muttered as he marched into the bedroom and shut the heavy drapes, but stilled when Regan wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. He caressed her hands and bear arms, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm not expecting anything from you…frankly, I think I'm too tired to even get it up." Regan smiled, fighting back her giggle.

She really shouldn't encourage all of his sly, dirty jokes.

"I'll be patient…we can wait as long as you need to." Charlie turned, raising an arm to bring her around into a hug. She lightly kissed his jaw, her neck stretching without the aid of her borrowed shoes. He turned his head to capture her lips, briefly kissing her before picking her up bridal style. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't deny that this was a little romantic…cheesy, but romantic.

"Shouldn't we get changed?" Regan asked as Charlie headed towards the bed.

"But that takes too long." He whined slightly as he set her down softly among the rose petals. Ignoring his words, Regan began to awkwardly unzip her dress, managing to get it halfway down before Charlie helped her with the rest. She shimmied out of it, gently tossing the dress on the ground and mentally vowing to pick it up after she had slept. Charlie slipped off his jacket, letting it fall to the ground as he pushed off his shoes and crawled under the blankets, pulling Regan down with him. She whimpered slightly, but allowed him to adjust their position until they were both comfortable.

"I'll never be able to thank you for what you did for me." Regan whispered before she could drift off to sleep. Charlie huffed, holding her close with his eyes tightly shut.

"What are you talking about?"

"My father," Regan instantly answered. She sat up in his arms, staring at him through the darkness. "You brought him back when nobody else could."

"Well you should really thank Draco, he's the one that found him." He said, trying to pull her down again and sighing when she wouldn't budge. He slumped against the bed, yawning loudly.

"I love you for what you've done for me." She whispered. Charlie smiled, gently running his fingertips across her pale arm.

"Would you still love me if I hadn't found him?" He asked with a small smirk.

"Yes," Regan quietly answered. Charlie's smile widened, finally pulling her down against his chest. He kissed her on the top of her head, holding her close as he pulled up the blankets and covered them both.

The couple slept through the day, rising only to go to the bathroom or to grab a snack. It was the perfect way to spend their first day as an officially married couple, Dickens jumping onto their bed and wiggling between them when they had become content with simply watching stupid TV. They enjoyed this quiet time while they could, knowing that they would eventually have to return to their busy daily routine, but for now they tried not to think about that.

A/N: If you want to see what Regan's dress looks like, just Google image Taylor Swift Oscar de la Renta and it's the first result! Also, next week is the last chapter, so...I'll be all emotional next week.

Sad Face: I know, and as of right now I don't have anything on the back burner. I'm actually working on a novel, so it might be a while before I publish another story on here.

Dragoon Dave: Honestly, the part where she stabs that woman in the head is my favorite part. It was only the beginning of Regan's outpouring of rage and emotion, and why not start off with a bang? And just wait...I hate that you call everything, but seriously, just wait.