A/N: News and updates at the end. Story first.

"I miss Saturdays."

"That's a funny thing to miss," Charlie said and gently skimmed his fingertips over the expanse of Harry's chest. "They're still there, I promise. Right between Friday and Sunday, where they've always been."

"Oh, fuck off. You know what I mean."

"I don't, actually," Charlie said lightly.

Harry turned his head just to make sure the expression on Charlie's face didn't give away that he was taking the piss.

"They just don't mean anything any more."

"Ah."

"Don't ah me you miserable fucker." Silently, Charlie raised an eyebrow, inviting Harry to continue. "When you do the same thing every day the weekend just doesn't feel special."

"Do you miss the fact that it's special because it's a break? Or do you miss the things we did together on a Saturday?"

"If you mean our Saturday fuck-fests, then I think we've been doing okay on keeping those going so far. I mean, we didn't leave the house last weekend."

Charlie flattened his hand down over Harry's stomach and admired the way his wedding ring looked on his finger. Without addressing the movement at all, Harry moved his hand to lace his fingers with Charlie's.

It had been a quiet day for them both; Harry had been alone for most of the morning, taking a solo trip into London for groceries, returning in time to meet Charlie as he came home from work. It was now six, the afternoon starting to slowly melt into evening as they laid together in bed, post-coital, dreamy.

"I think I'm going to take the teaching job."

"Really?"

To his credit, Charlie didn't make the one word sound mocking, or sarcastic, or disbelieving. It was a genuine enquiry, a request for reasons.

"Yeah. I need something... something..."

"More?"

"I suppose so. I need meaning and purpose beyond being your husband. That'll be enough to last a for the rest of our lives but I need something other than that too."

"I think that's a very healthy attitude to have. And I think you'll make a good teacher."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know about that."

"Harry." Charlie waited until Harry had scooted down on the bed, then curled his hand around Harry's cheek to physically hold his attention. "You have the most solid moral compass of anyone I've ever known. You do stupid shit sometimes, and we fucked around our relationship more than any other couple in the history of the world, but you know the difference between right and wrong. And honest to God, I cannot think of another person who would be better teaching children about the Dark Arts."

"Really." Harry did manage to make the word sarcastic.

"Yes, really. You've never once doubted yourself before. Don't you fucking dare start now."

Harry snorted. "I don't doubt myself. I'm Harry fucking Potter."

"That's the man I know and love."

With a real sense of indulgence, Harry let a slow smile spread across his face.

Then there was a knock at the door.

"Ignore it," Harry said, scratching his blunt fingernails through Charlie's hair.

Charlie groaned and rubbed his face, then reached over the edge of the bed for his boxers.

"Ignore it!"

"I can't. What if it's my mum? She'll come in regardless."

Huffing, Harry reached for his own underwear. The person at the door knocked again.

"Coming!" Charlie yelled.

"Now, that sounds familiar," Harry said, and earned himself a smack in the arm.

As he made his way down the hallway Charlie hopped into his jeans and swung the door open to a very pale Luna.

"Hey," Charlie said with a warm, genuine smile. Then, "are you alright, darling?"

She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. "Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Over Luna's head Charlie caught Harry's eyes as he came out of the bedroom on his Firebolt. Harry frowned. Charlie shrugged.

He showed her through to the living room where she sat, clutching her backpack on her lap.

"How's the Auror department treating you?" Harry asked as he settled down into an arm chair and propped the broomstick up next to him.

"Fine," she said, her voice sounding hoarse, then again, "fine. I, um, could I have a glass of water?"

She turned to Charlie with her request; he nodded an 'of course' and left for the kitchen.

"Luna?" Harry said. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I found something," she said, her eyes wide, haunted.

"Okay," Harry said slowly as Charlie returned. "What did you find?"

"Boxes... boxes of things that were salvaged. From the house. After... after... after he killed your mum and dad," she finished in a whisper.

Frozen, Harry tried to process unknown emotions as they swirled in his stomach.

"What sort of things?" he asked and felt Charlie's wide hand press down on his shoulder in reassurance as his husband took a seat on the arm of his chair. They both needed the closeness, and the contact.

"Do you want them?" Luna asked. "You don't have to take anything. But if you want, I have them."

"Right now?"

She silently held out her backpack.

Harry took it.

It was the work of moments to unpack the boxes, to set them on the floor and return them, with a spell, to their proper size.

"Harry," Charlie said. "You don't have to do this. Not right away."

"No... I do."

The first box he opened contained their wands. He selected the willow one first, silently, carefully turning it over between his fingers.

"This was my mum's," he said softly. No one challenged his assertion. He was right, after all.

Then he carefully picked up his father's wand. Swallowed.

"Priori Incantato."

From the end of James Potter's wand came the echo of the last spell he'd cast with it – a stream of bubbles for his infant son.

The trio watched as the ghost bubbles burst, one by one, and when the last one disappeared in the faintest wisp of smoke Harry lowered the wand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm –"

He Disapparated and Charlie went to grab him, holding himself back at the last moment in case he accidentally took himself too by side-along and ended up splinching them both. Turning back, preparing to chase him, Charlie caught sight of Luna still sitting on the sofa. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks.

"Oh, darling," Charlie said.

As he gathered her up in a hug he heard Harry in the bedroom – so he hadn't gone far after all – and rocked Luna gently from side to side.

"I didn't know what to do," she sobbed as Charlie ran his hand over the back of her head. "I didn't want to hurt him but I couldn't keep it from him…"

"You did the right thing," Charlie assured her, his voice low, soothing. "He just needs some time."

Luna nodded and sniffled into his shirt. He tucked a stray lock of summer-blonde hair behind her ear and gently touched the amber stone in her earring.

"We bought you these for your birthday," he murmured.

"Yeah," she said, looking up at him from red rimmed eyes. "They're my favourite."

Another A/N: Wooooahhhh it's been a long time since I updated!
Fear not, dear readers (the ones I have left, anyway) I will not abandon you. Since I posted last I've started a new job, moved house, published a novel and broke up with my boyfriend (it was inevitable, I'm cool with it.) Needless to say, I'm a tad busy.
I will be heading off to Edinburgh again in a few weeks which always gives me loads of HP-writing inspiration, so hopefully I'll pick up a bit more of a regular writing and posting schedule.
If you're still reading - thank you. I hope you're still enjoying too.