It wasn't the first time Lyra shared a bed with someone.
She had shared a bed with Hermione in the year they had been on the run, talked into the night about anything and everything that wasn't Ron. In the winter, sharing a bed was the only way to keep warm, and it was that or lie in the freezing cold of separate beds in silence, allowing the mind to drift towards those they missed and imagine different scenarios, each worse than the last until those they missed had died in several different gruesome ways, tortured into insanity, hacked to pieces every night for hours. It was safer to sleep together than allow their minds to torture themselves for both day and night.
She had slept with Sirius several times, escaping to his arms, feeling from nightmares and darkness and hopelessness that destroyed peaceful sleep.
But this was different.
In Sirius' bed, Lyra would join him and be held in his arms until oblivion claimed her, with words of comfort and safety whispered into her ear. She would sleep in his arms as he slept, and once asleep he would be mere inches away from her. That knowledge alone freed her mind of nightmares for days on end.
The morning after her wedding, Lyra woke up in an unfamiliar room, and it took her a few seconds of panic before she recognised the cabin in the dragon reserve. Charlie's arms were still curved around her, her back pressed against his chest. She could feel his heart, beating against her spine.
If she tilted her head to the right her lips would meet his, her hand could caress his face. Their legs were entangled as if in the night their bodies had decided to bond together as their hearts had done nearly twenty four hours before.
It wasn't the first time Charlie had shared a bed with someone.
As a young child, he and Bill had shared their bed before their father had built another one, and had found it great fun. Topping and tailing had seemed a sleepover and the two boys had talked into the night until sleep claimed them.
He had also had several short relationships and one night stands.
But this was different.
With the women he had slept with previously, it had been meaningless. Short bursts of passion that were normally prompted by alcohol. They would wake in the morning separated from each other by the blankets that hours previously had united them.
Charlie awoke, the morning after his wedding, to find himself in his cabin at the dragon reserve. His body was curled around Lyra, their legs entangled. His arm rested on her waist, pulling her to him and his hand was entwined with hers.
If he leant on his elbow he could reach her face, her eyes, her lips.
He felt safe, and protective of her. But he felt protected by her, united as they were by their bed and by their bodies and by their hearts.
He pulled her towards him and she turned her head, met his eyes.
"I love you" he said quietly as she shifted in his arms. She barely had time to reply "I love you too" before his lips claimed hers and her hand reached up to caress his cheek, ruffle his hair, pull his mouth impossibly closer.
They were in love, they were married, and they had all the time in the world.
Hours later, Charlie and Lyra walked to the top of the mountain where months before, Lyra had admired the sunset, where months before, Charlie had gone down on one knee and proposed to the love of his life.
They had time, more time than they had had last time, and so it was a walk that allowed them to reach the top to see the sunset, not a broomstick. They stood, watching those beneath them. A dragon crawled out of a cave and basked in the sun, another, a young one, flew above the sparkling lake. In that instant, with the sun finally fading, Lyra knew why Charlie loved it here so much.
She had tears in her eyes as she turned to her husband, leant into his side. His hand instinctively found its way to her hair, caressed it. They stood for a while, watching the sun go down until the mountain and the reserve were plunged into darkness and they had to fly down to safely return to the cabin.
Two nights were all they had in the dragon reserve in Romania, two nights and then they moved on, taken away by a portkey as they had arrived, accompanied by well wishing and congratulations.
Lyra didn't know where they were going, as she hadn't known about Romania. The portkey landed them in a sunny, hot garden that overlooked the sea. Lyra looked about in amazement before turning to her husband. He answered her question before she asked, and stated,
"We're in Egypt."