TRAGEDY OFTEN DISGUISED HERSELF AS MOMENTS OF HAPPINESS. Such as the glint of a fresh wedding ring wrapped around the finger of Charlus Potter as he sat by the fireplace, waiting for his husband to come home. With every passing second, he watched as the flames flickered, the fresh kindling disappearing along with the letters he had thrown in earlier. News from members of the Order, whether it be good or bad, none of it was meant to be kept long. Somehow secrets were finding their way, whispered into the ears of the enemy. Every precaution had to be taken or it could very well cost them the war.

The latest letter had been from his brother James, desperate for any new information. Just a fraction of good news would save his sanity. He knew his brother was growing restless, locked away in his home with his wife and child, closed off from the outside world. James was a fighter, he always had been from the time they were boys, and being told he couldn't fight was nearly as bad as telling him that his year old son was possibly destined to meet death.

Charlus wanted nothing more to free his family, but he couldn't without putting their lives in danger.

It pained him more than anything that they hadn't been able to speak face to face in months, especially since they had practically always been together from their shared time in their mother's womb. Half of him seemed to be missing and no letter, no matter how long it was, gave justice to spending time with each other.

Braving a smile even with no one around, Charlus pushed himself up to head over to his small writing desk. He couldn't relay any good information to James pertaining to the war; Charlus wouldn't even dare to mention that Sirius and Remus had nearly been at each other throats with accusations of being the traitor among the Order. That would just further kill the man internally, but Charlus did believe he had some good news to deliver as he picked up his quill from the inkwell.

Dear James,

I'm afraid I don't have the answers that you want, though I wish I did. I hope all is well with you, Lily, and of course, my favourite nephew. We were glad to hear that the toy broomstick was a hit with him and I think you'll have a fine Quidditch player on your hands in the upcoming years. That's if he doesn't destroy the house in the process of becoming one. We were looking forward to a visit to share some good news with you, but Dumbledore has advised us all that visits are becoming too dangerous especially with a potential renegade on our hands.

Sirius shares your restlessness, believe me, I've never seen a dog pace the floors so much. I was thinking about getting him a squeaky toy in the meantime as a stress reducer. It'll be great when we're all back together again.

Anyways, onto the good news, Sirius proposed. I could imagine Lily in the background saying "finally" when it happened. It only took how many years of him chasing me around, Lils? And if that wasn't enough, we decided on a whim to just get married. No sense in waiting in these times. It was just the two of us, and the clergy who was more than willing to our surprise.

Sirius signed through the whole ceremony, he's come such a long way from the days of fingerspelling. I thought of Mum the entire time, how she used to say that Sirius was destined to be a part of the Potter family.

We both wished that you all could have been there, but I promise at the end of the war we'll hold a reception to make up for everyone's absence.

In the meantime, keep your chin and hopes up, brother. This will all be over soon. We'll talk again soon, just know that we love you, all three of you. Stay safe and well.

Love,

Charlus

There was so much more that Charlus wanted to add to letter, but at the same time, he didn't know what to say. He wanted to send all the comfort and reassurance in the world to James and Lily that everything was going to be alright in the long run. But it was harder to keep pushing such an idea when Order members were going missing and some turning up dead. While they hid away along with Alice and Frank Longbottom, the rest of the Order members were on edge, wondering who was going to be the next target that the Death Eaters went after?

However, Sirius was committing himself harder to the Order more so than ever before, determined to keep his loved ones safe. He didn't have to come out and say it, but it was clear that Sirius worried about the "disadvantage" Charlus had with his lack of hearing. It was more or less the reason why he wanted Charlus to remain in the little cottage they had bought, out by the coast, far away from anything and anyone. It didn't matter how many times Charlus had proven himself to be a skilled dueller, there was still the doubt of something going wrong.

Not being the strongest member of the Order had resulted in Charlus losing the opportunity to become the Secret Keeper to his brother and family. He thought for sure that Sirius was going to take the responsibility on himself, but it was at the last minute that Sirius came up with a different plan.

They would make Peter the Secret Keeper.

At first, Charlus didn't know what to make of the new plan, questioning as to why Peter would be chosen over him. However, Sirius explained that it was all a bluff. Voldemort and his followers would more than likely suspect that Charlus or Sirius would be made the Secret Keepers, but who would suspect someone like Peter to be placed in such a powerful position? It sounded harsh but at the time, it made sense, so Charlus went with it.

After all, Peter was one of James' best friends from childhood and Charlus had grown up with them as well even if he spent his time with a different circle of friends. Peter would do anything for his loved ones, right?

Suddenly feeling restless with Sirius' absence, Charlus pushed himself up from the desk and began to wander around the cottage. Silence was something that had followed him from the time of birth, so he didn't mind the eerie quietness around the home, but it was the stillness that bothered him.

Usually, when Sirius was around, the two would converse back and forth, the shifting of their hands and fingers, filled the room with motion. The way Sirius would laugh at Charlus' annoyed expressions would be enough to make his hair toss about. And there were the nights where Sirius couldn't bring himself to smile, so Charlus would offer his hand asking for a dance. They could spend hours in each other's embrace, slowly moving around the living room floor.

However, the only movement that Charlus continued to see were the shadows the fire painted on the walls. It left him paranoid to the point where he decided to sit outside on the front steps, waiting for Sirius to return.

Night had long taken over, a cold front blowing through that caused the long grass to sway as it prepared for its death under the first frost. The moon was full and Charlus swallowed knowing that Remus was alone that evening. It was something James would have never allowed if he wasn't a prisoner in his own home, he would have never allowed his friends to get so bad with each other.

Charlus had attempted to smooth things over between Remus and Sirius when they were going back and forth pointing fingers at one another, but nothing seemed to work. Too wrapped up in paranoia, the two had gone for low blows to convince others as to why they weren't the traitors when no one suspected them in the first place. Remus brought up that Sirius was part of the Black family, full of pureblood supremacists and a few related Death Eaters. But everyone knew Sirius had left that life behind long ago.

Sirius pointed out that Remus was bitten by Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf that pledged his allegiance to Voldemort, and other werewolves were joining as well. Who was to say that Remus wasn't going to join them? But everyone that knew Remus, knew better. Why would he join the rankings of the monster that turned him into someone he hated?

Whoever the traitor was had done an amazing job at dividing what used to be a strong brotherhood and it was a damn shame.

A cracking sound in the distance went unnoticed, followed by another as Charlus continued to look at his ring that reflected the moonlight. He was thinking about talking to Sirius again, at least to convince him to sit down with Remus once more so that Charlus could tell them how ridiculous they were both being. James needed his friends more than ever to work together when he couldn't be there, he would be devastated to know how things were turning out. However, just as Charlus was trying to figure out what he would say to convince his husband, a flash of red light nearly struck him in the head.

Instead, it hit the door behind him, nearly knocking it off the hinges. He was up on his feet in an instant, taking just a split second to gaze off in the distance to see who was behind the attack. As he suspected, Death Eaters had arrived, mere feet from the cottage, five of them to be exact.

Taking on five Death Eaters was a foolish game to play and Charlus didn't consider himself to be a fool. He ran inside, ready to grab his wand from the desk and disapparate from the scene to protect himself. However, as he placed both feet in, Charlus came to a strong halt as he came to witness a sixth member among the group.

Sirius' cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, ruthless and wicked, stood before him, her yellow teeth revealed in a toothy grin. In her prime, she had been a beautiful woman, but the war had left her to turn down a path of madness. She neglected herself to fully commit to the cause of pleasing "her master" which meant countless hours of hunting down people to punish, torture, and kill.

"Looking for something?" he read the question off her lips. In one hand, she held his wand, leaving his plan of escape to fly out the window and in the other, she held the letter he had written earlier. With her wand pointed directly at him and the other Death Eaters entering the home to stand behind him, she started to read the letter out loud. Thankfully, he couldn't hear her mocking tone or the laughter of those that took pleasure in pain.

"A wedding?!" she exclaimed, touching her chest dramatically. "And I wasn't invited?"

"Well," Charlus began, " they normally don't allow wild animals in the churches, you see?"

It was a quip that would have made Sirius proud, however, it did not work in Charlus' favour as Bellatrix took offence to the insult. She turned her own wand on him, but before she did anything, Charlus was hit from behind with a curse.

As if a fire had been washed over his skin, Charlus screamed out in pain while the Death Eaters circled around him to watch. He collapsed to the floor within seconds, nowhere nearly strong enough to keep himself propped up. His body writhed to escape the agony, contorting in ways he would never stretch himself. Charlus yelled for them to stop, knowing that they wouldn't but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Death Eaters were never known for their mercy, but there seemed to be a slight exception when the pain came to an abrupt end. Charlus wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had been placed under the Cruciatus Curse, it felt like a lifetime. The front of his shirt was drenched in sweat and his breathing was heavy within the gasps he could manage. There was no point in asking to be left alone or let go, he knew that wasn't their game. They wanted him to beg, plead, and cry, they wanted to give him hope that he would escape before taking it all away from him in just a split second.

During his moment to gather his breath, Charlus could only watch as Bellatrix began tearing up his letter to James, shredding it to small bits that she sprinkled over him. He was glad not to hear her laughter as her tongue licked across the front of her teeth. To further mock him, a couple of the Death Eaters took to clapping their hands together and making odd motions, pretending to sign to him when in reality, it was all a bunch of rubbish.

"You know, we didn't get you two a wedding gift," Bellatrix said, crouching down to Charlus' side, " it's tradition, you know? How about this, before we kill you, I'll let you in on a little secret, one you can take to your grave. Wouldn't you like to know who's been whispering all the Order's secrets?"

He was only to pick up a little of what Bellatrix was saying as she moved too much for him to read her lips properly.

"Here, I'll whisper it in your ear."

Of course, Bellatrix decided to utter the name of the traitor with Charlus having no possible way of hearing it or seeing it. She seemed to take great pride of her little trick before casting her own spell on him, and rather than being placed under the Cruciatus Curse, Charlus felt as his skin started to rip open all over his body. He turned on his side, attempting to get away but his efforts were futile as he was kicked in the face bringing him back down.

Blood pooled onto the floor, a mixture from the heavy flow of his nose and the hundreds of fresh wounds that opened up on his body from the curse. However, Charlus squeezed his fists close in hopes of enduring it as long as possible. He could feel the coolness of his wedding ring and his eyes shot open during the pain. His thoughts immediately travelled to Sirius, part of him hoping that Sirius wouldn't return so that he didn't get caught up in the trouble and part of him hoping that if Sirius did show up it was with reinforcements.

While Bellatrix stood over him, the Death Eaters took to trashing to home, just to add insult to injury. Furniture crashed against the wall, items tossed into the fireplace, and every little valuable they had was discarded like it was nothing. Watching his and Sirius' possessions being destroyed for fun, gave him one last surge of energy to fight through the pain as he kicked his leg out.

He could feel his skin tearing further but it was enough to kick Bellatrix in the stomach, knocking her back to the ground. There was no wand in reach and Charlus in his daze could only fix his eyes on the open doorway. He started crawling on his stomach, just hoping to get away somehow. But just as he reached the bit of outside, he felt something wrap around his leg and yank him back in bringing him to drag his fingernails against the floor.

His yell was cut off by the violent slam of the door closing and sealing his fate inside.