Chapter 1 - The Cardinal Wedding
"Hey, are you in there?" Ginny asked, poking a finger into Lizzie's temple as she stared into her reflection in a vanity mirror, almost entirely dissociated from reality or the gravity of what day it was.
"Earth to Lizzie," she said, which finally broke her attention. Lizzie looked up at her confused and lost in a brain haze that was worsened by a spray of perfume on her face that made her sneeze. Molly hurried in with Lizzie's six-month old son, James.
"I'm sorry, Lizzie, he's hungry, he's fussing, not taking a bottle, I've tried everything," she said apologetically. Lizzie was wearing nothing but a silky white bath robe. Her hair was half done, most of it still up in a messy clip at the base of her neck, and Hermione had done a wonderful job covering faint scars on her face and neck with makeup. Lizzie automatically reached for her son and bounced him in her lap for him to calm down before pulling back her robe. He grabbed her thumb in a small hand and squeezed while she kissed his fingers. Her eyes welled, but eye makeup hadn't been added yet, so there was nothing to ruin. Lizzie had never put this much effort into an appearance, she scarcely ever wore a layer of makeup.
Ginny, Hermione, Fluer, and Angelina were all wearing cardinal gowns and chatting with one another in a suite of a London mansion home rented for the event. It all seemed to fade when Molly left with James to get him dressed for the wedding.
Lizzie closed her eyes and felt someone tug at her hair. When she opened them, she saw her late aunt, Petunia, pulling strands into a braid and curling the ends impatiently. Lizzie stared back at a younger version of herself in the mirror, a gold cross dangling from her neck. "Please don't make me do this," she whispered. Petunia stopped and her shoulders sunk with a sigh. She sucked in the courage to say something Lizzie imagined her husband wouldn't agree with when the door opened and silenced her.
"You done? They're waiting," Vernon said curtly. Lizzie went rigid. Petunia put a pin in her hair and nodded at her husband. He gestured for her to leave but stayed behind and shut the door before locking the handle. Lizzie's heart skipped a couple of beats but she stared into the mirror avoiding eye contact. He came up behind her and fondled a loose curl at her neck.
"Get the dress on," he said, and she looked over at the white gown. He sat down in a nearby armchair and watched her undo the buttons of the dress. She pulled off a robe timidly and he stood up abruptly to approach her. He stopped her hand from grabbing the dress and moved her other from hiding her body.
"You're going to be begging to come home," he said with a wicked smirk. She sunk her head, but he picked it up by her chin and stared into her swimming green eyes. He didn't say anything, but his satisfaction spoke volumes. He gestured for her to step into the dress and buttoned it in the back, she trembled the whole time. Her hand shook against the hem of her actual wedding dress she'd been clutching absently.
"Lizzie?" Ginny asked, more concern in the underbelly when she noticed the demeanor.
"Can you tell him to come up here?" Lizzie asked.
"Who? Charlie?" Ginny asked. Lizzie nodded. "You want him to see you already?" Lizzie nodded again. "Ok, I um - sure," Ginny said. When she came back with her brother, the girls left the room.
Charlie didn't hide his concern. "Are you alright?" He asked from the armchair her imagined late uncle had just been sitting in. Lizzie knelt in front of him and he leaned forward to look into the conflict consuming her face.
"Promise me nothing changes," she said quietly. He frowned and held the side of her face softly. "Charlie, nothing changes..." she said again and he nodded. They had two children.
"This bird will never be in a cage," he said. "I promise."
"Can you help me with the dress?" Lizzie asked. Charlie smirked.
"I'm not supposed to see you in the dress," he retorted.
"You've seen me die and give birth, I think you can handle a dress," Lizzie snapped back. He pulled on her wrist and situated her snugly on his lap with a hungry look in his eyes. The passionate snogging that ensued was broken by a desperate attempt to refrain from what otherwise should be saved for the evening.
"Are we going to be late to our wedding?" Charlie asked with his warm hands buried in her robe.
"We have a meeting with Kingsley, first," she said into his neck. Charlie bucked back looking confused. "He's going over the marriage contract and license, I wanted to know what's involved," she explained. He nodded a little apprehensively.
"Don't put on the dress yet, please," he said as she got up from his lap.
"I think it'll be a little bit inappropriate to go talk to the Minister of Magic starch naked. But I'll defer to you," Lizzie chuckled. Charlie smirked and rolled his eyes.
"Not what I meant, obviously. I just want to see you in it at the ceremony. That fair?" He asked. Lizzie chuckled and nodded.
Lizzie and Charlie slipped into a room down the hall where Kingsley sat across from them with paperwork. "Hi, Lizzie," he said with a smile and returned to reading the papers, handing Charlie them as he was done who passed them to Lizzie.
"Lizzie isn't familiar with Wizard Marriage Law, it's a bit archaic, hasn't been changed in at least a century," Kingsley explained.
"Lizzie, I have promised profusely that you're not bound by this kind of stuff," Charlie said frowning through the provisions as he read.
"But I am, and you are too, even though it works to your advantage," Lizzie said.
"Alright, so, head of household will always default to Charlie," Kingsley said. "Your vault information at Gringotts can be dual and full access, but he is primarily deferred to and needs to authorize the beneficiary information," he continued.
"I can just transfer what I have to the Potter vault, can't I?" Charlie asked. Kingsley shook his head slightly.
"You can close yours and assume control of hers. She already liquidated the Black vault to you and other members of your family, but you'll retain rights to that too that supercede hers if any money gets deposited or moved to that vault instead," he explained. Lizzie chewed the insides of her cheeks.
"So, why would witches marry of they lose this much control?" She asked.
"You, my dear, are a rare case that actually has full control. Normally, at this point your father would control all of this, or next eldest male, non-muggle kin...you had neither for most of your life, so the ministry assumed control until you were of age when it went to you."
"What else do I need his permission for?" Lizzie said bitterly. Charlie clenched his jaw and frowned at her.
"Not... everything," Kingsley said. "But he can restrict your apparition license. I mean technically speaking you're supposed to have children until you have a son, but that's accounted for," Kingsley said.
"You've got to be kidding me," Lizzie said bitterly.
"It's not enforced," Kingsley reassured her. "You should be aware that he can restrict magic in the household. He can also petition the court for marital civil discourse and must do so prior to dissolution of marriage," he continued.
"Meaning what exactly?" Lizzie asked.
"A complaint needs to be filed against you with an attempt to remedy, meeting one of the dissolution requirements - adultery, dishonesty, disrespect, breach of deferred authority, desertion, or abuse, you can also file a mutual dissolution," he explained.
"I'm not allowed to - " Lizzie asked cautiously.
"You're not allowed to file a dissolution by yourself. Should you experience any of the latter, you can plead the court to mediate your grievances, a probationary period is required to settle difference and mend the marriage, the court can then decide if it warrants dissolution and intervene on your behalf. That usually requires a domestic crime," he clarified.
"I'm not allowed to leave?" Lizzie asked, feeling light headed. "I know this isn't romantic considering what day it is, I'm not saying I don't want to do this... but..." she said weakly.
"Should you leave, he's technically allowed to freeze access to assets and or summon you back. Spousal summons is binding, it's a magical connection. He can summon you, but if there is intent to harm he won't be able to, protections were built into it," Kingsley said a little grimly.
"I can't do the same to him?" She asked. Kingsley shook his head. Lizzie sighed. "Like a bloody house elf," she grumbled.
"I promise you I wouldn't ever abuse any of this, much less you," Charlie said sympathetically. It was obvious he hadn't realized the extent of the marriage nuances which didn't feel much different than that of the marriage rules in the church she grew up in. This was exactly why they were two children and eight years into their relationship and as of this moment, not yet married.
Lizzie pulled a quill and parchment and spent ten minutes scratching out words. She handed it to Charlie. "Read it to yourself," she said quietly.
I, Charlie Weasley, will protect our children to all of my ability, with my life if need be.
I, Charlie Weasley, with the knowledge of my wife's possession of the three Deathly Hallows, will not steal, conceal, or dispose of them during the course of her life. Upon her death, I will break the elder wand and bury it in the grave of Albus Dumbledore. I will bury the Resurrection Stone in the grave of Severus Snape and never use it. I will hand down the cloak of invisibility to my son, James.
I, Charlie Weasley, will never willfully harm my children.
I, Charlie Weasley, will never willfully degrade my wife.
I, Charlie Weasley, will never tell a soul about the Hallows.
Charlie looked up at Lizzie confused, but he was met with a face of pure resolve.
"You're swearing to what I wrote, unbreakable, I'm not submitting to the marriage without that promise," she said.
"I can't make unbreakable marriage vows, Lizzie, that's illegal," Kingsley said.
"They're not marriage vows, they're just vows," Lizzie said. Charlie looked confused and conflicted.
"Does it contradict anything in the marriage laws?" Kingsley asked.
"No," Charlie said but clenched his jaw apprehensively.
Lizzie held out her arm and took his in hers. "You already know how I feel about marriage," she said to him and he nodded.
"Lizzie, the marriage will help your family, if something were to happen to you or Charlie as things are the protections are not placed the same, it's in the best interest of your kids, it's more than appropriate for you to..." Kingsley said.
"I'm keeping my name," Lizzie interjected. "The kids are too," she affirmed. Charlie sunk his head with some mild disappointment.
"No, usually, you or in this case you and your family take the surname of the head of-" Kingsley was cut short by the dagger eyes Lizzie gave him. Charlie sunk his face into his hands and ironed it. He knew exactly what Lizzie was about to say.
"I understand the legacy, your name is legend..." Kingsley said.
"It's not about her name or my name, its about her dad's," Charlie said. "She's keeping it. Head of household has no bloody objection," he said. He did, but felt selfish guilt for admitting it. Kingsley raised his eyebrows.
"The kids too?" He asked. Lizzie nodded.
"The Potter line doesn't die today. The Weasleys have four other boys passing down that line, my dad's carries on," Lizzie said with resolve. It was a semi-heated discussion in the weeks before James was born.
"Not to mention, George is already ready to call me Lizzie the Lizard Weasel, and I might send him to the other side to Fred if he does," Lizzie said sarcastically. Charlie snorted into the hands covering his face and let out a much-needed laugh.
"Are we done convincing my wife not to marry me?" He asked, now exasperated. Lizzie rolled her eyes. He stared back down at the parchment and rolled it into his hand.
He owed her the vow and knew it more than she did. His hesitation was not about not hurting his family, he'd die knowing he didn't protect them whether a spell condemned him to it or not. He owed her the vow because she died for him in that courtyard. He owed her the vow because the Hallows are what gave him a family. He owed her the vow because he had already hurt and degraded her, but she could no longer remember that night that lives behind his eyelids. He owed her the vow, but knew it would be the death of him, knew it'd be the death of her, because there was one child he knew he would fail to protect.
He did it anyway. The mark left behind weighed heavy on him. Lizzie left the room to put on her dress before the ceremony while Charlie drummed his knee with the rolled up parchment nervously.
"Are you alright?" Kingsley asked. Charlie nodded. "She has a lot of apprehension."
"She's 25, would have been married for a decade already to that muggle who..." he didn't finish the sentence. "She wasn't going to do this at all until James was born," he added. "She ran away and had Rhiannon alone..."
"This was always about the being able to get her back if she did that again, wasn't it?" Kingsley asked. "You've been her husband in all respects for years now anyway."
Charlie sighed with a twinge of shame. "I'm not trapping her with me, this isn't about me. Its more than that. I just don't want her to disappear..."
"She came back. She never meant to stay gone forever," Kingsley said reassuringly.
"No, if not for our daughter she would have never come back, she only wanted to be a mother because she was nobody's daughter. Then bargained whether or not she died in the process that she would be one or the other."
"She wouldn't leave her children, you know that," Kingsley reassured him.
"She would if anything happens to them," Charlie said quietly.
"What was the vow?" Kingsley asked.
Charlie paused and contemplated. "To protect them," he breathed. Kingsley nodded.
"Any reason you wouldn't be able to?"
"No," Charlie lied, but it wasn't obvious.
"She'll be fine, son, enjoy your marriage, and congratulations. I'm honored to be officiating. You have a beautiful family," Kingsley said.
Charlie made his way down the steps to the ceremony to greet guests trickling in and rubbed the line the vow had imprinted on his arm with some trepidation. There weren't supposed to be a ton of attendees, only close friends and the extended family. Ginny was curling his daughter's hair and Remus came up to clap his back supportively with a hug.
"She getting changed?" Hermione asked in passing. Charlie nodded and the maid of honor handed her nephew, James, off to Ron as she bolted up the stairs to the dressing room. Ron rubbed drool off the little man's tuxedo as well as his own and carried him on his shoulders while he mingled with Neville, Dean, and Seamus.
"Who is walking her?" Remus asked.
"You should," Charlie said. "But go ask her, her fear of men and marriage is particularly strong today," Charlie sighed.
"Everything alright between you?" Remus asked. Charlie nodded.
"Charlie, ring box," Teddy said, tugging on his pant leg. Charlie looked down at the boy and crouched down.
"Look at you, kiddo. Yes, here you go. Like the hair, very cool," Charlie said and handed him the rings. His hair was red today, nobody knew what color it really was because he changed it too often. Teddy gave him a hug around the neck and Remus left to find Lizzie.
He rapped on the door and Hermione yelled "come in." She was buttoning Lizzie's dress down the back as Lizzie smoothed it down over her stomach. Nausea was creeping up on her.
Molly embroidered lilies into the lace on the gown. It was otherwise simple with a silky golden base since Lizzie refused to wear pure white. The lace went down her arms to cover scars and up her neck, but the back was open in a diamond shape.
Hermione fixed a dainty hair accessory above her left ear and then hugged her around the neck from behind and admired the reflection. "You look beautiful," Hermione said and kissed her on the cheek. Remus stared with some unmasked adoration for her as well.
"Yes, how can I help you, Mooooony?" Lizzie said with a smirk.
"I heard from a bird that you're feeling nervous," he said.
"I thought I told Hedwig to shut the fuck up, the gall she has," Lizzie said sarcastically.
"Charlie," he said. Lizzie nodded and breathed a heavy sigh as nausea crept back up her abdomen.
"I was wondering if you wanted me to walk you?" He asked. Lizzie looked at him in the reflection of the mirror for a moment contemplating.
"I was going to walk alone," she said. "Because I'm nobody's..."
"Don't you dare say daughter," he said with a little bit of reproach and glassy eyes. "You're as good as mine, Arthur would say the same," he said.
"Because I'm nobody's to give away," Lizzie said quietly. "Especially not to Charlie, he's the father of my children," she clarified.
"That I can respect," Remus said with understanding. "But I wouldn't be giving you away, because I'm not going anywhere," he clarified.
Lizzie felt astonishingly sad for a moment. "If you change your mind, either way, I'd be honored, but I'm proud of you," he said.
"For finally submitting to this," she said.
"For overcoming your fear of it, because that's what held you back. You've been keeping yourself slightly displaced from your own family, and it's completely understandable why. You won't lose them. He'll prove you're in safe hands. He knows you'll kill him if he doesn't," Remus said. Lizzie chuckled silently.
"You have a beautiful family, darling. Dont live in fear of loss, live with resolve to love," he said, and Lizzie hugged him around the middle. "Love you," he said quietly into the top of her head. Lizzie nodded.
"Love you too," Lizzie whispered. "Thank you."
Remus left and several minutes passed alone. Lizzie dug for her pouch and pulled out the snitch that contained the stone, not sure who she wanted to talk to, perhaps her father or Sirius. Lizzie held the gold ball in great conflict with herself, feeling an impossibly daunting reality of letting go. Before she touched it to her mouth, there was a knock on the door and it opened abruptly.
Two little girls stormed in in pretty rose-colored dresses. Lizzie startled and her body went rigid for a moment when she looked up at the man following them. He looked so much like his father it made her skin crawl. But his expression was soft and he smiled.
"Dudley?" Lizzie asked.
"I'm sorry! They wanted to see you!" He said apologetically. Ivy gave Lizzie a big hug, and Alyssa, her younger sister, just a few months younger than Rhiannon, shoved herself in for a hug as well.
"Aunt Lizzie, you look so pretty!" Allyssa yelled.
"You look SO pretty too, sweetheart," Lizzie smiled.
"They grew a foot," Lizzie chuckled and looked up at Dudley who dug in his pocket.
"Something old," he said and handed her a necklace. Lizzie frowned and took it.
"My mum would have wanted you to have that," he said cautiously.
"I don't...don't... want anything of your mothers, Dudley, I'm - I'm sorry," she said with a tremble.
"It was your mum's, Lizzie. I think it was the only thing that survived being tossed by my dad," he explained. Lizzie stared at it and turned it over in her hand. It was a golden circle on a golden chain. There was lily engraved on the surface. Dudley moved forward cautiously and clasped it for her. He could sense her trepidation and backed up. Lizzie smiled weakly. "Thanks," she said.
"Jenny bought you tea cups as the gift. I told her that was stupid and you'd prefer coffee mugs, but they are rather pretty," he said to lighten the air. Lizzie cracked a weak laugh.
"Well, cups are versatile, I don't think I'll die if I put coffee in them..." she said.
"Annie is downstairs, girlies, she'll be happy to see you," Lizzie added. Dudley took the que to leave with a polite wave. The door popped open half a second later and he stuck his head in.
"You look lovely, really, I'm glad to see you at... well not that kind of ceremony," he said. Lizzie smiled.
When the door shut, she heard a clearing of someone's throat and turned around to see her uncle with nothing but aggression in his gait as he approached her. Everything went black and she awoke maybe just mere moments later feeling numb and displaced. Her hands shook no matter how hard she clenched them. Lizzie put the snitch away entirely, grabbed the bouquet of flowers, and left the dressing room for the ceremony. Music had started.
She looked over the edge of the stairwell balcony at the collection of guests and paced next to tall, ornate windows to steady herself. She turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and Remus looked concerned.
"Are you ok?" He asked.
"Can you walk with me?" Lizzie asked shakily. Remus nodded and smiled weakly.
Bill, George, Ron and Percy filed in gracefully with Fluer, Angelina, Hermione, and Ginny respectively. Charlie positioned himself next Kingsley, and Bill, his best man stood behind him. Teddy practically ran down the aisle and handed the rings to his uncle, Bill, who had to hold him back from fleeing the ceremony procession because he was suddenly anxious about the onlookers. Molly took James from Ron's arm where he had since fallen asleep on his shoulder and he silently thanked his mother while he rolled feeling back into his long-used arm. Rhiannon, Annie for short, unlike Teddy, her god-brother, moved excruciatingly slow down the aisle with a basket of azaleas she was taking the time to personally hand to each person sitting on the aisle, and then finally stood in front of Hermione who turned the remaining flowers into a surge of butterflies.
The audience stood when Lizzie entered with Remus and the enchanted butterflies dissipated. Charlie's tight shoulders relaxed the moment he saw Lizzie. A mixture of guilt, adoration, admiration, and relief washed through his veins. Bill's hand squeezed his shoulder supportively.
Remus gave Lizzie a warm hug at the hilt of the room before she stood to face Charlie. She frowned slightly and looked around him at his line of brothers with her eyes locked on Ron. Lizzie snapped her fingers at him to get his attention. "We talked about this, you're on my side," she said. Charlie grinned and tried to stifle a laugh as he looked back at his youngest brother. Ron rolled his eyes.
"I thought you were kidding," he said.
"Why would I be kidding? Hermione has a bouquet and everything for you, go," she insisted. George nudged him out of line.
"You're my best friend, get your ass-" Lizzie demanded facetiously and he conceded to stand by his wife and sister who were grinning maniacally.
"Are you ready?" Kingsley asked. Charlie nodded. Lizzie held her breath.
"We're gathered here today to witness the marriage of Charles William Weasley and Azalea Lily Potter..." Kingsley rehearsed.
They exchanged short vows before being directed to cross arms and hold hands. The spell was binding but also oddly euphoric. Lizzie thought perhaps that was on purpose to relieve trepidation of signing your life over to another person. It felt like a silk coil bridged them both as extensions of one another. It entwined the souls. They were each given a clear potion, and drank each other's from opposing hands. Hers started to shake at that, remembering the last potion that bound her to a man. There was no pain with this one, only peace. Kingsley's voice sounded like marbles as he finished the spell and she looked up at Charlie who leaned in with her face in his large hand to kiss her. He neither let go of her face or her waist and she melted in that hold. He must have felt the uptick in her heart rate because he pulled her into a loving and secure embrace. The applause felt far away. She heard a child's humming deep in her ears as she watched her husband scoop up their daughter and plant a huge kiss on her forehead. The music, surely loud, felt faint. She swayed a little on her feet.
He clasped her hand to leave the ceremony and she looked back at a much younger version of herself in the type of dress she'd wear to mass smiling back in the audience. She wasnt the least bit menacing, to the contrary, the little girl looked relieved.
The world around her went quiet despite the commotion. She didn't know what the feeling was. It made her want to scream, but not in a terror riddled sort of way. It was an unfamiliar feeling, perhaps the potion was contributing. The loss endured over the course of her life hadn't disappeared, but the window closed shut on it. She could see it, but she couldn't feel it the same as she had. The door she wanted to keep open for the sake of not getting married, to not feel trapped, had shut and she realized that she was not on the inside of some confined metaphorical room, trapped with a man she had to hope she could continue to trust and a family she had keep happy. The door did in fact shut with the marriage, but she was on the outside of it, with them. They were free of that past, untethered. Through the window she could see her past trapped in the confines of what she once tried to call freedom. She wanted that door to stay closed and keep the loss from haunting her wake. Looking out onto this horizon, as people cheered and congratulated her, she saw endless purpose and possibility. Part of her had the urge to run from the building, let out her hair, and just breath the fresh air. There was yet to ever be something her soul enjoyed more than crisp air.
Charlie seemed to notice the thoughts spinning behind her green eyes and led her outside on autopilot away from the commotion. "Hey," he said softly, touching her face. Lizzie kissed him with great intensity and then exhaled a huge bottled up breath. She looked out onto the London street and rocked on her feet as her heart pounded furiously. He watched her let her hair down and the curls cascaded down her shoulder blades.
"Are you alright?" He asked, trying to read her face. Her eyes were drowning but she nodded fervently and smiled contagiously.
"Yeah," was all she could say and tears streamed from her eyes. He wrapped arms around her from behind and she melted in the embrace. "I love you," she whispered. He kissed her temple and held tighter.
"You don't say," he said sarcastically. Lizzie laughed.
Their first dance in the dinner hall was to Rooms on Fire by Stevie Nicks. The toasts from Hermione, Bill, Remus, and Arthur made it hard for Lizzie to swallow back tears. Charlie initiated the father daughter dance with Annie, to the song Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac, her namesake, and Teddy and Annie did a duet dance they rehearsed to Stayin Alive by the Bee Gees that won the hearts of the audience. After at least four glasses of white wine, some malt whiskey, and giggle water, Lizzie was dancing effortlessly and flamboyantly to ABBA with Hermione and Ginny. Followed by 90's hip hop with her former quidditch team.
The highlight of the evening was the memory display of who handled a dragon better, Lizzie or Charlie, in which the consensus was obviously Charlie. This was followed by a similar display of who the better seeker was in which case even Oliver Wood voted for Lizzie, despite being extremely conflicted.
The reception ended with many exchanged hugs with family, friends, former professors and mentors, and making sure everyone's kids had enough sweets to keep them wired for weeks. George and Lee lit off a slew of fireworks. James fell asleep on Lizzie's chest and Remus rounded up the kids to take them home, leaving Lizzie and Charlie to enjoy a short impending honeymoon without them.
"This marriage is going to be over very quickly if you get me pregnant again," Lizzie said with a giggle when Charlie wrapped his suit jacket over her shoulders and helped her stumble out of the reception. He was not anywhere near as drunk as she was, but he could tell she was high on the evening still and it might have been the happiest he'd ever seen his wife.
He apparated them to a hotel in Paris he'd reserved with a honeymoon suite and they retreated into a very ornate bedroom. Lizzie slipped off her shoes and took off her jewelry. Charlie poured out two cups of water. Lizzie took a sip of hers where she sat at the edge of the bed and cringed.
"I thought it would be Gin," she said. He raised his eyebrows at her and laughed. She pulled on the waistband of his pants and undid his belt. She felt his hands run through her hair as he towered over where she sat. She slid the leather through the loops and the sound was louder to her than it should have been. She held it an outstretched arm for a moment and watched it fall to the floor without any threat. Lizzie undid his shirt from the bottom buttons up while he discarded his tie. Before she could unfastened his trousers, she found herself face down on the mattress with a swift movement on his part while his hands unclasped the hooks on the back of her dress assertively. Lizzie wiggled her arms out of the dress when he realized just how limp her body was from the alcohol. She sat up weakly before standing and swayed on her feet as she let the gown fall to her ankles. She started to remove her underlayer of clothing and he watched feeling conflicted. Lizzie pushed him into a sitting position on the bed, sunk to her knees, and undid his trousers impatiently. He leaned forward and kissed her passionately, pulling her onto his lap. Her skin was hot, but her hands were limp and she was heavy under the haze of far too much to drink for one evening. She started to seem lost in his arms and he lifted her up to lay her on her back. He laid beside her and cradled her body close to his. "We're not doing this tonight," he said softly. Lizzie cracked a laugh thinking he was joking.
"Don't tell me that now that I'm your wife..." she started to say but her words were spacey and far apart.
"You're much too drunk," he said apologetically.
"It's our wedding night," she said, laughing again, assuming he was kidding. She moved closer and became more forward with him.
"No, sweetheart, I - you're too... I'm not sending you down a rabbit hole on your wedding night," he pled. Lizzie went cold suddenly and quiet.
"I'm fine, Charlie," she said, but it wasn't convincing. "I want you, just take me, I'm your wife, you're entitled to -" but he cut her off and placed a thumb firmly on her lips to silence her.
"I'm not entitled to you like this," he said assertively. "I promise I will make it up to you and absolutely rock your married world," he said, kissing down her jaw line. "But I know when you're close to the ledge of a very dark place, and that's not going to happen on your wedding night. I've never seen you this happy. I know you're not glass, you're made of nails. But not tonight," he said and removed his thumb to kiss her mouth. Lizzie didn't have words but stayed curled up in his arms. She drifted off to sleep while his mind raced in a memory he hated, one he took from her mind years ago and still felt massively ashamed for doing so. He closed his eyes and fell back into the last days of the war, the day he spent listening to voices in a room coming from a small golden cup they'd stolen from Gringotts. This urge to and desire to create a new piece of himself instead of breaking a piece of himself was unwavering. He didn't feel inside or present with himself at all.
He was younger and lying in a different bed when he heard Lizzie enter. She undressed mechanically and crawled into bed next to him while the cup seemed to hiss from mantel. Lizzie fidgeted and seemed restless. She faced away from him, but he turned to wrap an arm around her and crushed her next to his body. Lizzie squirmed slightly when his breath on her neck became his open mouth but didn't protest. Her skin went hot, and blood rushed to all the places it needed to, she wanted him like she wanted him now on their wedding night. He plunged a hand between her legs and a leg she hurt in the break in at Gringotts jolted suddenly with pain.
She gasped, "ow, wait," she said breathlessly. His body worked without his mind and forced her knickers down, ignored the soft protest, grabbed her jaw with his hand and kissed her aggressively. There was more than hunger, there was malice and Lizzie went rigid. His hand on her neck felt her heart hammer. When she pushed away, he snatched her back, flipped her onto her stomach and pinned her arms at each side of her head.
"Charlie!" She shrieked. Her breathing was ragged. He heard a hissing and whispering that increased his resolve. He yanked up on her hips. "Stop!" She screamed, and the hand on her hip pushed her head down into the pillow. Lizzie cried and screamed but it was muffled. She thrashed but he held tight, leaning down in her ear. He had a hand between her legs and could feel the lingering warmth of what was desire a short moment ago and laughed consecendingly. "Sin for you to like this" he whispered in her ear. It wasn't his voice and she froze.
"Charlie, please... please let go," she panted feverishly. He flipped her over and she flinched in terror at the sight of red eyes just before he hit her hard in the face. It was something between and punch and a back hand that bruised quickly. She screamed for help before he struck her again and slapped a hand over her mouth.
"They can't hear you," he growled. Her eyes were drowning in fear.
"Please, stop," she panted. She tried to summon her wand, but he snatched her wrist so hard she felt it sprain. He was trying to restrain her, but she wouldn't concede. There was a loud pop that made him let go briefly but it wasn't enough. Her adrenaline was pumping violently but it was exhausting every muscle.
"Hold still!" He hissed. "Or this gets worse!" He warned, the words flew like someone else was saying them. He pushed her legs apart, arms pinned tight, and she was trying to swallow heaving breaths in a panic. The pain on her face was too much for him to witness, but not enough for the person in his skin to be satisfied. She stopped struggling and shut down after several minutes. He had a primal urge to claim her. When he was done, he unpinned her. Lizzie rolled onto her stomach and desperately gripped the pillow she was crying into. He left the room and the door clicked shut.
The moment he left the room he didn't remember being in there. Now confused, he retreated downstairs to boil water for tea. Lizzie entered timidly moments later.
"How was Tonks? The baby? Do you want some coffee?" He asked innocently. His voice was normal. He wasn't looking at her. Lizzie moved a little further into the kitchen, trembling with aftershocks. He turned around to look at her and his eyes were blue again. They widened into saucers at her bruising face and bloody lip.
Lizzie doubled over in pain and leaned her weight into the table, he lunged toward her to help. "What - happened?" He asked.
"Lizzie, what happened?" He asked with more urgency. He reached for her, but she backed away, still shaking. Her mouth couldn't form a coherent sentence.
"Don't," she muttered. He moved to hold her steady on her feet. "Don't! DONT! DONT TOUCH ME!" She screamed. Panic. Her body shook. Her hurt wrist was gripped in her hand feebly. There was no coming down from this. He was terrified watching her nerves and anxiety implode.
"Lizzie - what -" he asked. She pointed a finger at him. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths.
"Don't touch me. Just don't fucking touch me. I don't want to. I don't want to do this. I never wanted to do any of this. We're - I can't. I can't. I don't want us to be over. I can't - " she was gasping for breath between words. He didn't understand.
"I hurt you," he said with terror laced in his voice. Lizzie nodded.
"You... I can't... I can live with a lot. I survived a lot - I can't - survive - that," she said breathlessly with the urge to vomit. The room was spinning. She tried to climb the stairs, but panic stopped her heart. She sunk to the floor with her back to the wall, her head hit the floor, he saw the outline of a figure at the top of the stairs staring, and she fell unconscious.
He wasn't aware of what he did for days. She never took the potion he had to prevent a pregnancy and had no idea she'd even had their daughter until she came back from a year of seemingly disappearing off of the earth after the war with a baby in her arms. She had been scared of him and rightfully so, scared of her daughter and how she was conceived. He pulled the memory from her temple the first night they spent in the home he'd built, but knew it lived on buried in her subconscious. That's what he blamed the years it took to actually get married on. He kept it a secret ever since but swore he'd never hurt her again.
When Lizzie stirred the following morning in the Paris hotel suite, she snuggled him close and kissed his neck. "You good?" He said groggily. She nodded. Lizzie could have burrowed herself into his body, the frustration she felt the night prior when he'd refused her advances had washed away and she was immeasurable grateful for it. She'd never felt safer in his arms, and he held onto her for that shred of relief and redemption.