Hi all! This update is a little longer than usual because I just didn't know where to cut it off. I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out, all of that aside. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Twenty-One
Adair entered her flat, or their flat, sweaty and needing a shower.
"Adair?" Charlie called from the kitchen.
She made her way to find him and when he caught sight of her, Charlie was dismayed all over again. It happened anytime that they were apart for more than an hour. He would forget how utterly unhealthy she looked.
England was, once again, going to the World Cup and Adair was doing everything in her power to avoid another loss like her first championship appearance.
Charlie had attempted to work out with her a few more times, but he couldn't keep up and he hated to see how hard she pushed herself. A few times they had gone to the English training facility and he had at once been in awe and horrified.
Adair was running further and faster than she ever had. She didn't jog. She didn't run. She sprinted, legs flying long behind her, arms pumping at her chest.
She threw around amounts of weight that Charlie wasn't sure he could, not that he tried. He had no idea how her body could handle the physical paces she was putting it through when she looked so frail.
Per usual, she was hardly eating anything. Charlie had tried nearly every healthy recipe he could get his hands on, but she wasn't interested. However, she had cut out her Firewhiskey for the most part and while he thought that might have been a good thing, it meant that she wasn't sleeping at all. Her face was drawn and pale and there were dark circles under her eyes.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, not getting his hopes up.
Adair was set to leave the following morning for the team's week in Rome leading up to the actual match.
Charlie had offered to go with her the entire time, but she insisted that she wanted some alone time to get her head right before he arrived the day before. Instead, he would spend some time at Hogwarts and prepare his classroom and lesson plans for the upcoming term.
"Not really," Adair replied, filling up a glass of water.
"I think you should eat a little something," Charlie said. "You've been working so hard. You can't play on empty."
Adair arched a brow to challenge him.
"Please," he said quietly.
With a sigh, Adair took a seat at one of the high barstools and looked at the plate that Charlie had slid across the counter to her, bearing a salmon fillet and a few spears of asparagus.
Adair did eat a few bites, but for the most part she cut it all up into tiny pieces and then pushed them around on her plate.
"Adair, if you're not careful, you're going to hurt yourself," Charlie said quietly, unable to stop watching her. "I know you're nervous, but doing this to your body isn't going to make you play better; it's not going to make up for the last time you played for the Cup."
Adair's eyes welled. She had been trying so hard to keep it together, to do whatever it took to ensure that her team won the Cup. She felt like it was personally her fault that they had lost two years earlier, even though Quidditch was a team sport.
When she didn't argue with him, Charlie slowly moved around the counter and sat down next to her. He pulled her plate toward him and speared a piece of salmon, bringing it to her mouth.
Adair opened her mouth, looking at Charlie with pleading eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Charlie wanted to cry as well. He had been worried about her several times throughout their relationship because of how she treated her body, but the woman sitting before him was absolutely broken.
He couldn't believe that even the World Cup was worth the pain and damage she was causing, but he bit his tongue and instead put another bite in her mouth.
All said, she ate about half of what had been on the plate, which was a huge improvement from what she normally consumed.
Before Charlie rose to clear the dishes, he took Adair's gaunt face in his hands. "I love you," he said firmly, looking right into her green eyes. "And I don't care what happens in a week. I just want you to be happy and healthy."
Adair rose without a word and headed for the shower.
"Fuck," Charlie said under his breath, cursing every system that had brought Adair so low, every person who had put so much pressure on her to succeed. He cursed all of the eyes around the world that were constantly watching her; hungry for the gossip columns and scathing articles any time she had a less than perfect match.
ooooOoooo
As they had two years ago, Charlie and Adair attended the gala the night before the World Cup in Rome. Oliver seemed to be handling things somewhat better than his sister which left an uneasy knot in Charlie's stomach.
"Where have you been hiding that?" Charlie asked, when Adair emerged from the bathroom in the same worn out dragon t-shirt she had worn the last time she was to make a World Cup appearance.
"Don't worry about it," she said with a smirk.
It was the most personality she had shown in weeks so Charlie couldn't help but smile.
"It does look better on you," he replied.
They stood facing each other. Something told Charlie that they would not be spending that night as they had the night before the World Cup in Toronto. They hadn't made love in nearly a month. Adair could not quiet her mind enough to focus on even the most instinctual of acts.
"Are you ready for bed?"
"I'm not going to be able to sleep," Adair sighed.
Charlie nodded. "Well you should probably try." He guided her to the bed and pulled the covers back for her. He then proceeded to tuck her in as though she were a child before he laid down on his own side of the bed.
Adair remained on her back, staring at the canopy. Charlie took her hand without a word.
ooooOoooo
Charlie woke slowly the next morning and when he remembered where he was and why, he was immediately transported back in time to the same occasion two years earlier.
He strained his ears, but he didn't hear anything coming from the bathroom. In fact, he didn't hear anything at all.
He rose from bed and walked around their suite of rooms, but Adair was nowhere to be found. She had left early, without a word.
Charlie spent his morning pacing around their rooms, eating a little, and waiting to go with Katie to the suite.
The knot in his stomach had returned with a vengeance and he was unable to sit still or focus on anything.
A couple of hours later, Katie and Charlie were walking through the stadium to get to their suite. They were both assaulted by reporters and photographers, yelling questions at them about their significant others and their hopes for the day. Neither responded and they gratefully ducked into the elevator that would take them all the way to the top level.
"I have a terrible feeling about this," Charlie said when they were away from prying ears and eyes. He immediately poured himself a Firewhiskey from the bar in the corner.
"I hadn't seen Adair in a long time before last night," Katie said. "She doesn't look good."
"I can barely get her to eat or sleep and she's been working out like a crazy person." He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the bun so that he had to pull it back up.
Katie sighed. "She's going to have to change some things after today or she's going to hurt herself. Or worse."
"I know," Charlie sighed.
They were silent for a moment.
"I'm going to go say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Wood before they start warming up," Katie said.
"The Woods? Where are they?"
"Oliver's suite," Katie replied. "I don't imagine they'll come say hello after what happened."
Charlie had never really thought about Oliver and Adair having separate suites. Most of the people who came to watch them wanted to watch together so they always used Adair's.
"'After what happened?'" Charlie asked.
"She didn't tell you?" Katie asked, realizing that she may have put her foot in her mouth.
"You know Adair. Do you think she did?"
Katie looked at him for a moment.
"You've already said too much," Charlie said. "You might has well finish the story."
"When you were injured and Adair stayed back from their tour in North America, she had a run-in with Mrs. Wood. She wasn't pleased that Adair wasn't playing, supposedly throwing her career and the whole bit away for you. They came to blows and Mrs. Wood hit Adair."
"What?"
Katie nodded. "I saw her face later that day when she came back to sit with you. It was a pretty bad bruise." She shuddered to think of it.
The feelings of unease in Charlie immediately turned to rage. His fists clenched at his side, his neck turned red, and he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
"I have half a mind to go over there right now."
"Don't," Katie said. "It will only make it worse for Adair."
"Worse for Adair?" Charlie began furiously pacing back and forth. "Worse than being hit as a grown woman?"
Charlie collapsed into one of the stadium seats and put his head in his hands. He couldn't imagine what that must have felt like for Adair; to have her bodily autonomy so disrespected for choices she had made in regards to her own life; in regards to choices made in regards to her love for him.
It could only contribute to the strain she was under as the World Cup had approached.
Katie eventually left and Charlie remained where he was. He didn't look up until the players were announced and they began their brief warmups.
He watched Adair carefully. He wanted to get her off of her broom, out of the stadium, and somewhere safe where they could be alone and he could take care of her.
Katie still hadn't returned when they were set up for the opening toss of the Quaffle and the release of the Bludgers and Snitch.
Adair would have normally been the one to go after the Quaffle, but instead she hung back and let Jasmine go for it, which resulted in the first possession being lost to Australia. Didgeridoos sounded throughout the stadium.
When they finally got the Quaffle back after the first score by Australia, Sienna passed it to Adair. She reached up to grab it and it rolled off of her fingertips, causing a scuffle below her as she was unable to recover it. Australia took possession again.
"Bloody hell," Charlie murmured.
Katie returned after that and she didn't say a word as she sat next to Charlie.
Over the next three hours, Adair made every mistake she could. It almost looked as though she'd never played a game of Quidditch in her life. It was absolutely the worst Charlie had ever seen her play. She missed passes and goals, she fouled in every way imaginable.
Even from so far away, Charlie could see the look of despair on her face.
Throughout the entire match, Adair only scored one goal when usually she was the highest scorer on the team.
It was no surprise when Australia caught the Snitch and England hadn't had nearly enough points to deter them from doing so. There were resounding boos and hissing from the crowd at the lackluster performance of the English. It seemed that Adair's poor showing had brought the rest of her team down as well.
Charlie watched Adair closely, thinking it was over, but when Adair's boots hit the pitch, her knees buckled and she went crashing to the ground, kneeling with her head in her hands, broom discarded beside her.
"Get her out of there, Oliver," Charlie muttered, hands pressed against the glass, watching his girlfriend's shoulders shake.
He watched as Oliver hustled over to his sister, hauling her to her feet, shielding her as best he could with his brawny frame.
Charlie could see the tears pouring down Adair's face and his heart broke for her.
Katie and Charlie waited almost another hour for the stadium to clear before heading for the locker rooms.
Unlike the last time he was at a World Cup, Charlie was let through every barricade. By then it was common knowledge that he was involved with Adair Wood.
Luckily, Coach Williams had been able to keep the press conference short after the match. He had not however, budged on letting Adair off the hook. It would be all over the papers the following day, Adair sitting at the edge of the table with her other teammates, tear streaked face on display, trying to bat away questions about her spectacularly abysmal performance.
By the time Katie and Charlie got down to the lower level, the team had disappeared into the locker rooms.
Katie went to find Oliver and Charlie stood outside of the women's locker room, waiting for Adair.
Eventually, Jasmine and Sienna emerged looking as though they'd showered and cleaned up. "You might want to go in there," Sienna said.
"Thank you," Charlie said quietly. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open.
Adair was sitting on a bench, having not moved at all. She was still in her uniform. She didn't look up when Charlie entered.
"Adair," he said quietly, stopping behind her.
She didn't move or speak.
Slowly, Charlie moved around to sit next to her on the bench. Without a word, she buried her face in his chest and sobbed.
Charlie held her tightly against him and stroked her sweaty hair, pressing kisses to her temple. "It's alright," he said. "It's over."
It took a while, but eventually her crying subsided. Charlie gently pushed her scarlet robe off of her shoulders and then knelt at her feet to undo her boots and slide them off.
"Why don't you take a quick shower and we'll go straight to the villa," he said.
Adair had rented a villa for them to spend a week in on the Mediterranean coast and Charlie had been looking forward to another vacation with her.
"I want to go home," Adair said.
Charlie looked up at her. "Don't you think that the sun and water might do you some good?"
Adair shook her head.
"Why don't we try it and if you hate it, then we can go back to London." He squeezed her hand. "You've already paid for it."
"I don't want to," she repeated stubbornly. "And I'll make enough from even this match, terrible as it was, to cover it."
"Come on, Adair-"
"I said I don't want to go."
Charlie sighed. "Alright."
He helped her gather her things and threw her bag over his shoulder. He was disappointed that they wouldn't be going on their trip, but he was even more worried about Adair.
"I don't want to do this," Adair said, pausing at the door to the locker rooms.
"You don't have to say anything to them," Charlie said. He knew the reporters would be thick outside the locker room, waiting to pelt Adair with tough questions and condescension after the match.
Charlie rummaged around in her bag and found a hooded sweatshirt. Adair pulled it on and pulled the hood up so it covered her hair and face. Charlie then tucked her safely under his arm.
As soon as word spread through the ranks of reporters that Adair Wood had finally emerged from the stadium, buzzing began immediately and then they were yelling over one another to get her attention, but she kept her face turned away from them. The flashes of so many cameras were nearly blinding.
Thankfully, they turned down a narrow, cobbled street and Charlie apparated them both back to the alley near their flat building.
As soon as they were inside the flat, Adair headed to the bar cart. Charlie watched, not knowing if he should say anything or not, as she downed three tumblers of Firewhiskey in rapid succession.
"Adair," he said quietly.
"I'm not interested in a lecture right now, Charlie. Surely it can wait." No longer was she reaching for him and needing his protection and comfort. Her voice was scathing. "I'm sure it can wait. In fact, why don't you go to your parents for a while? I'd like to be alone."
"You know I'm not going to do that," he replied, sternly.
"Then you're going to be quiet," she said. She poured another tumbler of smoking liquid and threw it back.
On unsteady legs, she made her way to the bedroom and collapsed into their bed, not bothering to shower or take her clothes off.
After a minute, Charlie followed her, pulling off what he could. Her leggings and t-shirt were tossed on the floor and he gently covered her with the soft comforter. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stroked her fair hair away from her face. She didn't stir at all.
Charlie knew that it would likely get much worse before anything got better.
ooooOoooo
How right he was.
Adair spent three days in bed. She only rose to make her way to the bar cart and pour more Firewhiskey so that she would go back to sleep.
Charlie begged and begged her to eat something or to have even a glass of water, but she acted as though she couldn't hear him.
Many times he had been scared for her, but in those few days he thought she might actually do something that could not be reversed.
On the afternoon of the third day, Charlie flooed his sister. He was at his wits end and desperation was taking over. He had tried everything. He had tried to be gentle with her, being stern didn't work. He wasn't nearly as stubborn as she was.
"Gin," he said rawly, when his head appeared in their fireplace. "I don't know what to do." He quickly explained the situation. "I know you're busy with the new baby, but I didn't know who else to ask."
"Of course," Ginny said. "Give me thirty minutes to get the boys settled with Harry and I'll be right over."
Charlie nodded and disappeared. He sat on the couch until she arrived.
"Where is she?" Ginny asked, as she came through the door.
"She's been in bed since we got back from Italy," he said. "I can't get her to eat, drink, or shower."
"Alright. It'll be alright. Let me see what I can do." She gestured for Charlie to hang back as she entered the bedroom.
The room smelled of sweat and sleep, but Ginny didn't pay any attention as she sat on the edge of her best friend's bed.
"Adair," she said quietly. "Adair. Wake up." Ginny rubbed her friend's back and felt every single one of her vertebrae as she did so.
Adair shifted a little bit so she was lying on her back looking straight up, not at Ginny.
Ginny wanted to weep to see her in such a state. Her skin was sallow and drawn across her pronounced cheek bones. Besides the sweat, her body seemed to be giving off pure Firewhiskey fumes.
"There you are," Ginny said. "I know you're devastated. You worked really hard this season, but now you have to look forward to next season. You can't do that like this. You're not healthy."
Ginny pushed Adair's greasy hair away from her face. It was a tangled mess.
"We're all really worried about you and if you're not careful, you're going to hurt yourself beyond repair."
Adair gave no indication that she was listening.
"I need a best friend. My kids need an Aunt Adair. Charlie needs you most of all," she glanced at her brother in the doorway who was wiping at his eyes.
"What do you say? How about a bath and something to eat?"
There was something in Ginny's voice and Charlie was sure it was the very one she used to get James to cooperate with her. It was soft, but at the same time brokered no room for an argument.
"Is there something that sounds good to eat?"
Charlie had given up hope that Adair would ever speak again, but she croaked, "Charlie's shepherd's pie."
Ginny turned to her brother again and gestured for him to hurry to the kitchen. "Absolutely," she said. "It'll be ready when you're done with the bath."
When Charlie was gone, Ginny helped Adair out of bed. She was so weak and still very drunk even though she had been sleeping for a long while. She swayed on her feet, but Ginny eventually got her into the bathroom where she ran a bath, pulled out a fluffy towel and stripped Adair.
"There you go," she said, helping her ease down into the warm water. Ginny blanched, looking at just how thin Adair had become.
With a washcloth, she rinsed Adair's body and then she went so far as to help her to dunk under the water to wet her hair.
A glass of cool water came zooming into the room and Ginny caught it. "Have a little of this," she said, tipping it at Adair's lips.
Adair thought she had never tasted anything so wonderful and she drank the entire glass.
Ginny massaged shampoo into Adair's scalp and watched as the other woman's eyes closed, finally seeming to be at peace, at least to some extent.
"You have to get better," Ginny said quietly, knowing she had a captive audience. "You can't keep treating your body like this, Adair. Don't you think you'll play better if you take better care of yourself?"
Tears slipped down Adair's cheeks, mingling with the warm water in the bathtub.
"I know it's hard. And I know there's unimaginable pressure on you to play well, to look good, to do it all. But you won't be able to do anything if you keep this up."
Adair actually nodded.
"Think of Victoire and all of the little girls like her who look up to you, who want to be you. You have to set a better example for them. You have to talk to yourself and treat yourself like you would them. You would never tell them to eat like you do, or drink like you do, or beat yourself up like you do."
Adair pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed, hiding her face.
Ginny remained silent for a moment.
"You're amazing and we all know that," Ginny said, when Adair finally calmed. She took her friend's chin in her hand and made sure she was looking right into her eyes. "We only want what's best for you and we're all here to help. You don't have to do it alone." She pressed a kiss to Adair's forehead. "Let's be done with all of this."
Adair nodded and stood from the tub, allowing Ginny to wrap her in a soft towel before she sat her down before her vanity to comb her long, blonde hair.
There wasn't a time Adair could remember another woman showing her so much care and love. Her heart swelled with gratitude and she vowed to do better, if not for herself, then for the little girls all over Britain like Victoire.
ooooOoooo
Coach Williams sat at his desk staring over his steepled fingers at Adair a week later.
After her time with Ginny, she had sat at the dining room table and ate half a portion of Charlie's shepherd's pie, even though it made her nauseous to do so. She had been doing the same at least twice a day ever since. It was getting easier, but there were still times she wanted to fight it. Charlie had been monitoring her alcohol consumption very closely as well, normally limiting it to a drink with dinner and maybe one before bed if she needed it.
"Look, I'm not going to lie to you," Coach Williams began. "I've had a lot of people pushing for me to let you go after the World Cup."
Adair nodded. She had been nearly certain that he had summoned her to fire her from the team. It had made her even more unwilling to eat anything in her nerves, but Charlie had sat with her patiently, even if it took her over an hour to take ten bites.
"What happened?"
Adair could only shrug and open and close her mouth over and over again.
"I don't want to let you go," he said, when he didn't get an answer. "You're one of the best Chasers I've ever coached, but I can't coach someone who won't take care of themselves."
"I know," Adair whispered. "I've been working on it."
Coach Williams nodded. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll let you start the season under the condition that you continue to work on it. You won't be playing in a match until the team healers and I are convinced you're healthy enough to do so. If you're not, you'll be put under the care of a healer of my choosing and I can promise it won't be your sister-in-law. Do I make myself clear?" he asked.
Adair nodded.
"Very good. I'll see you in November then."
ooooOoooo
The week before Charlie was supposed to start his first term of the year, he realized that while Adair had been working really hard on the issues that surrounded food for her, she hadn't been exercising or training at all. It would make November even harder on her than it was already going to be.
He didn't want to push her because exercise had been just as unhealthy for her in the past as not eating had. He was more concerned that she hadn't touched a broom in nearly a month.
"I have an idea," he said, as she joined him at the dining room table for lunch. He pushed the lesson plans he had been working on out of the way and tried not to watch as Adair nibbled at the deli sandwich he had made.
"Why don't we go to the Burrow and fly around for a little bit this afternoon," he suggested.
Adair raised an eyebrow.
"No pressure. Just to fly. The Muggles can't see us if we stay above the orchard."
"Aren't you busy?" she asked.
"I wouldn't have offered if I were."
Adair hesitated once more. "Okay," she finally said.
Two hours later, they had Apparated to the lane that led up to the Burrow. Charlie didn't lead them to the house first. Instead, he pulled Adair along to a rickety shed. When he opened the doors, it was full of brooms.
"When Fred and George first started making money, they replaced all of the shoddy old brooms we had. Of course, they didn't want any of the future Weasley generations getting above themselves so they're only Cleansweep Elevens, partly in tribute to the Cleansweep Sevens they grew up with."
Adair smiled and entered the shed. She held her hand above each one, until one vibrated under her hand.
Charlie followed her out of the shed, both carrying a broom. He mounted, but Adair just stared at the broom.
"No goals to score. No fans," he reminded her.
Adair nodded resolutely and threw her leg over the broom, kicking off gently.
Charlie followed her. He couldn't remember the last time he had ridden a broom.
Adair couldn't remember the last time she'd ridden a broom only for the pleasure of it. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she probably never had. She freed her hair from the tight bun it had been in and let the wind blow through it as she cruised above the apple trees.
Flying was an entirely different experience when she wasn't supposed to be flying up and down a pitch or throwing a Quaffle through a goalpost.
Charlie watched her with a soft smile on his face, trailing her at a distance.
Gradually, she picked up speed until her hair was streaming behind her. He heard a laugh escape her and he was relieved that his idea had paid off.
Adair came to a stop in front of Charlie and she looked down at the orchard.
"Remember when you came onto me down there?" Charlie asked with a rogue grin.
"When I came onto you?" Adair laughed incredulously.
"Oh don't play coy now."
"I have never pretended to be coy. I would've taken you to bed that night. You wanted to wait an extra six months, remember?"
"Yes, well, I'm a gentleman."
Adair laughed again.
Charlie, to his own great surprise, found his eyes welling up to see her smile so widely. He had thought she might never come out of the fog that had fallen before the World Cup.
"You could take me down there and try again," he suggested, when he was able to swallow the lump in his throat.
The smile remained on Adair's face, but it faded a bit. They had not slept together since she had begun to eat a little bit more. Charlie was not allowed to join her in the shower or see her in any state of undress. It was another obstacle that would have to be tackled, but not one he was going to force, even if he had never seen her look so naturally beautiful in their entire relationship.
"Dears!"
They were able to avoid that topic, much to Adair's relief, as Mrs. Weasley came striding down to the orchards.
"Are you going to stay for dinner?"
Charlie looked to Adair who gave a slight nod.
"Yeah!" he called back. "We'll be right there!"
ooooOoooo
"Oh come on, it's your birthday!" Charlie pleaded.
For the week leading up to Adair's twenty-sixth birthday, she had refused to make any plans.
"Let's just go to a quiet dinner. Ginny and Harry said they'd come with us if you like. You don't have to just stare at me. There'll be other people to talk to."
Adair tried not to crack a smile.
"Come on," he said again. "We want to celebrate you. You deserve it."
Adair sighed. "Fine. Floo your sister."
Charlie gave her a huge smile and hugged her tightly, though she was quick to pull out of his embrace.
She headed for her closet and surveyed her clothes. She was careful when she was in public to dress in a flattering manner. No longer did she wear the sexy, revealing pieces that her closet mostly consisted of. In the nearly two months since the World Cup, she had gained about six kilograms, which everyone was very supportive of, but Adair couldn't help but notice all of the changes and think of them negatively.
In the end, she pulled out a black sweater, dark jeans, and heeled booties. She left her long hair down and put on the minimal amount of makeup she could get away with.
When they walked up to the nice restaurant Charlie had chosen, the photographers were already there, probably having been tipped off that Harry was present.
Adair tried to melt her body against Charlie's so that they wouldn't see her. She had stayed out of the public eye for as long as possible after the World Cup, but it wouldn't be able to hide in their flat forever. She knew that.
Once they were safely in the door, Harry and Ginny were there, wishing her a happy birthday and she tried to put the encounter with the reporters behind her.
ooooOoooo
The next morning, Charlie came out of their bedroom to see Adair sitting on the sofa in the living room. She didn't seem to be moving, hunched over that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.
"What are you reading?" he asked, coming around the back of the sofa to stand over her shoulder.
His blood boiled immediately. The headline on the Quidditch page read, "Quidditch Princess Crams on the Kilos" and the byline read "Rita Skeeter."
There was a picture of Adair the night before, caught through the window of the restaurant. She was laughing and there was a fork wrapped in spaghetti halfway to her mouth.
Charlie snatched the paper from her and threw it into the fireplace that Adair had already lit.
There you have it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I can't wait to hear what you think! I've been getting so many good ideas from you guys, big and small, so please keep those coming in your reviews as well!
Happy reading,
Avonmora