CHAPTER TWO:

Third Person Narrative:

June 30th, 2000

The morning of the last day of June dawned quicker than anticipated, and Charlie stirred awake in the attic of the Burrow, welcoming the day ahead of him with rapid blinks that allowed him to acknowledge his surroundings, perhaps for the last time.

He stretched, and as he suddenly became acutely aware of the absence of Ron's usual snores, Charlie turned to see his friend wide awake, brow furrowed, sitting as still as a stone, his elbows atop his lanky knees, chin in his hands, simply staring at Charlie.

"What's the matter?" Charlie asked, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"So... you're sure?"

"Ron..." Charlie couldn't help but roll his eyes after all of the conversations he'd had this week, all the firm assurances he'd given.

Yes, this was what he wanted, what they wanted.

They were sure.

They'd never been more sure of anything, really.

"I know it's Hermione and everything — you and Hermione, but —"

"But what, Ron? You think we're being a bit reckless?" said Charlie sarcastically, but not unkind, a smirk on his lips, his eyebrow raised. "Or would you've preferred we waited until you and Lavender got married first?"

Ron's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, "Er —"

"Listen," Charlie sighed, "this might be the least reckless thing I've ever done. But I dunno if I can say the same for Hermione, agreeing to be stuck with me and everything —"

"You're mad," Ron shook his head, sniggering lightly. "The two of you, but I guess that's why we're friends."

Charlie laughed, unable to argue. He swung his legs out of bed and glanced out the window. The sun was shining gold over the Burrow's garden, and Charlie smiled as he imagined how the light would shine in Hermione's hair in only a few hours time.

"Oh, great, you're awake!" came the voice of Harry Potter, as he came bustling into the room, his hands full of shoeboxes, with various ties draped around his neck. "It's starting to get a bit chaotic," he added, closing the door behind him with a huff. "Mrs. Weasley's trying to get everything organized downstairs, and Elaina and Ginny have been fussing over the state of Hermione's hair for the last hour."

"Not much to fuss about, I reckon... it'll be bushy," sniggered Ron under his breath, "it's always bushy."

"My thoughts exactly," huffed Harry, setting down the shoeboxes at last. "Merlin, I don't recall this much madness when Elaina and I got married — it's like a bloody zoo downstairs in the kitchen!"

"What, getting cold feet?" Charlie asked his best friend, turning around with a smirk. "About being my best man?"

"Absolutely not," beamed Harry, his smile contagious. "Chaos or not, I've been looking forward to this day for ages."

"It's crazy to think about, isn't it?" pondered Ron, looking suddenly sentimental. He turned to Charlie, his eyes pleading, "Just- just promise you won't split up, okay? It'll be extremely awkward if you do."

Charlie rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow towards Ron, who dodged it with surprising ease.

"I mean, what's the rush? Hermione's not — you know —" whispered Ron, indicating towards his stomach, earning himself an immediate glare from Charlie.

"You're sounding more and more like your mum every day," he scolded. "Time to get your own place."

"But maybe Mum and Dad have a point, though," suggested Ron, shrugging. "You're still so young —"

"They want to get married, Ron," added Harry, casting his friend a stern look. "Nothing you say is going to change that."

"I know, but —"

"We don't want to wait to start living," said Charlie resolutely, as he and Hermione had once explained to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, to the rest of the Weasleys.

This seemed to sober Ron, and he stood to clap Charlie on the back.

"If you hurt her, I'll —"

"You'll what? Punch me in the face? Been there, done that, mate," joked Charlie, and the three boys laughed together this time. Charlie could think of little that could possibly be worse than what they'd already suffered; only the thought of his life without Hermione by his side seemed to be a worse punishment.

There was a gentle knock on the door before it was pushed open gently. Peaking his pink-haired head through the cracks, Teddy Lupin, Charlie's favourite two-year-old Metamorphmagus, made his undeniable presence known in the doorway.

Charlie whipped his head around, noticed who it was, and quickly rushed over and lifted Teddy, who squealed in response, into his arms. The young boy was dressed in a light grey suit, paired with a little pink bowtie that mimicked the colour of his hair perfectly.

"Look at you, Ted!" gasped Charlie, ruffling the little boy's hair as he giggled contently in response. "You're all ready for a wedding, aren't you?"

"Aunthie 'Mione hewped me geth dreshshed," babbled Teddy, pulling at his bowtie. "She shaid I wooked handshome!"

"You do, kiddo," Charlie chuckled, "just don't go stealing the heart of my future wife, though, yeah?"

"What've you got there, Ted?" asked Harry, pointing at a small note tucked into the boy's hand as he grinned widely, watching his best friend interact with his godson. "Who's that from?"

"This is fow you uncle Chawlie!" grinned Teddy, overjoyed as he handed the note over to the groom-to-be. "Aundie 'Mione said do give id do you! She wanded you do have id befowe dhe wedding!"

"Thanks, Ted," smiled Charlie brightly, taking the note into his palm. "Now why you don't you go help Grandma Weasley in the kitchen? I'm sure she'd love your help."

"Okie!" babbled Teddy, "Gwood luck, uncle Chawlie!"

And before Charlie could say anything in response, the two-year-old toddler swept from the room with a little skip that carried him from the attic down to the kitchen, with a thump on the hardwood floor after every jump. Charlie, Harry, and Ron watched as Teddy left the room, sharing a cheerful look in response.

"I love that kid," said Harry, gaping in awe as he went back to fumbling with the dress shoeboxes. "He might just be the best thing to come out of the war."

"I'll second that," nodded Ron, and he paused for a moment before turning back to Charlie, "So what's it say?" he asked, pointing to the note. "Has she called the wedding off all of a sudden?"

Rolling his eyes, Charlie glanced down to the note and felt himself tense as he pondered the contents of Hermione's note; what if Ron was right, what if she'd called the wedding off? With a deep breath, he forced himself to slowly open the note, his eyes focusing on the twenty-or-so words sprawled on the page in Hermione's recognizable handwriting:

my love, I'm eagerly counting down the seconds until I'm officially yours forever...
meet me at the altar, I'll be the one in white
xoxo

And just like that, any doubts Charlie might've had about his wedding day had since been removed from his conscious thought. He smiled brighter than he ever had, folding the note back up and looking back towards an anticipating Ron and Harry once more.

"Quite the contrary, Ronald," he said, with utter confidence in his voice. "She's just as ready I am."

"Charlie?" came the sound of another voice in the doorway, whispering before either Harry or Ron could respond; Elaina Dumont appeared, her hair sophisticatedly pinned in a beautiful top-knot hairdo. "Merlin, why aren't you three getting dressed? Mrs. Weasley's already been by Hermione's room twice to make sure everything's in order," she joined them in the attic, walking over to the closet and pulling out their light-grey suits which mimicked that of Teddy's.

"Of course," Charlie gave Elaina a smile of relief. "You know, I wasn't sure Mrs. Weasley would come around, but now that she has —"

"— she's come all the way 'round," laughed Ron. "No one can keep my mother from a wedding."

"Doesn't have much of a choice though, does she?" asked Harry rhetorically, chuckling.

"Regardless, I'm sure everyone's excited," Elaina grinned, looking from Harry to Charlie. "I won't spoil too much, but your future wife looks absolutely stunning! She said her parents should be arriving any time now —"

"Ginny! Elaina! Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley called from the floor below, her voice loud and well-prepared as though she had heard them speak her name into existence. Charlie, Harry, and Ron shared an amused look at the sound.

"You'd better go, before she makes her way up here..." Ron said, wearily eyeing the doorway. "We'll never hear the end of it if she knows we're not dressed yet."

"Well, I'd best leave you three to it, then," teased Elaina, placing a kiss to Harry's cheek before she swept from the room.

"Ugh," Ron playfully groaned in mock disgust as Elaina disappeared down the stairs. He turned to Harry, mumbling, "There's so much love in the air that I might just suffocate from the mere thought of it."

"You say that now," Charlie rolled his eyes, crossing the room to start getting dressed into his suit. "But you've seen nothing yet, my friend..."

—————————————————————

"Nervous?" Harry asked as they stood by alter a short while later, dressed in light grey suits with pink accents. Charlie exhaled deeply in response to his best friend as he fiddled with the cufflinks of his shirt.

"Very nervous," he muttered, turning around and smiling nervously at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who both gave him a thumbs up in reassurance from the front row. "What if she doesn't show up, Harry?"

"Have you gone completely mad?" Harry asked incredulously, chuckling as he patted his best friend on the back. "Of course she'll show up, you daft twat! She loves you. Completely. She could've given up on you ages ago, but she didn't, she stuck by your side and loved you and supported you."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right," Charlie exhaled deeply once again, trying to calm his nerves, as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow.

"You wouldn't want to be sat here watching her marry Krum or Cormac would you?" laughed Harry, trying to be funny and lighten the mood, but it didn't seem to work as Charlie merely punched him in the shoulder, his glare fixed on the Potter boy.

"Not funny," the groom grumbled, but his nerves sky rocketed again as the music began playing. He glanced around, feeling that his heart could run away from his chest at any time because it was beating that fast. Unknowingly to himself, Charlie held his breath.

The grounds of the Burrow had never looked more beautiful to Charlie than they did on that day, the day they played host to the most important ceremony of his life. He and Hermione had opted for a June wedding, with enchantments placed all around the property to welcome the setting sun. They had been inspired by Bill and Fleur's wedding, and the twinkling lights cascading from the ceiling of the marquee and trees surrounding it were a clear indication. The temperature in the grounds had been kept at a comfortable heat, so it wasn't a hardship to the guests to sit outside to witness the happy couple getting married.

Right in the centre of the vast lawns of the Burrow, stood the platform where Charlie and Hermione would exchange their vows. There was rustic looking archway with a pathway leading up to it, running from the back doors of the Burrow to the area where the seats had been arranged on a pearl white floor that sat atop the grass. The aisle was lined with pink and white roses, and there were several tall vases containing matching flowers dotted around the reception area.

(A/N: made this for y'all to use for visual purposes <3)

The wedding was everything Charlie could have hoped for — short, simple, and surrounded by the people he loved; the Weasleys, including Bill and Fleur, who sported a growing bump beneath her flowing blue dress; Mrs. Granger, tearful but joyful in the front row as she awaited her husband and daughter to walk down the aisle; Hagrid, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably into his tablecloth-sized handkerchief; Andromeda bouncing Teddy, his blue hair returned; the Lovegoods, Luna adorned with radish earrings and all; Neville, looking thrilled; even McGonagall, dabbing at the corners of her eyes; Slughorn too, as rotund as ever, who had somehow managed an invitation, nodding approvingly before the ceremony had began.

Charlie, rather acutely, continued to feel the absence of Tonks, Remus, and Fred, but, somehow, he knew they were there too. He didn't need the Resurrection Stone to know that they, along with his mother, Sirius, Dumbledore, and, as he liked to think, Snape, would never really leave him.

As the music grew louder, Charlie awkwardly fixed his bowtie as many of the guests stood and gave a collective awe of approval at the newfound sight emerging from the entrance of the marquee. The scraping of chairs filled his ears, and Charlie turned around slowly to see Mr. Granger walking Hermione down the aisle, her white dress seemingly even brighter than imagined in the sunshine.

She looked breathtakingly stunning. Her hair curled and draped around her shoulders, her makeup light.

"Still nervous?" Harry whispered in Charlie's ear teasingly, and the groom gave a discreet nod, wiping the palms of his hands on the back of his trousers.

As Hermione and her father approached him, Charlie felt tears flood the rims of his eyelids at the immense beauty before him. He made an effort to control his emotions, but it amazed him how much love and admiration seemed to overwhelm his senses. He had never felt anything so palpable like his love for Hermione. Charlie was so focused on his fiancée that he totally ignored the two bridesmaids that were walking before her. She was marching with her head held high, wearing a small smile on her lips that seemed to rid Charlie of all his previous anxiousness.

Charlie's gaze remained fixed on Hermione as she reached the end of aisle alongside her father at last, the choir music fluttering softly in the background. The second Mr. Granger gave Hermione a peck on the cheek and let go of her, Charlie was instinctively reaching for his future wife.

"Y-You look — w-wow," he muttered nervously, helping her up the steps of the altar, and Hermione giggled bashfully, leaning up to kiss his cheek and wipe the tears from his eyes.

"You look rather dashing yourself," she whispered in his ear, grinning to herself. "But I think I'll like what's underneath better."

Charlie chuckled in response, bringing Hermione's hand to his lips before interlocking them as they turned to face the same pastor who officiated Bill and Fleur's wedding, the same small, tufty-haired wizard who had also presided at Dumbledore's funeral.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, addressing the crowd, right after he exchanged brief smiles with the couple that stood before him. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls..."

Charlie was aware that he should probably pay more attention to the man's words, though he was unusually distracted today. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he couldn't stop looking at his soon-to-be wife. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he would swear that she had to be a Veela and was using her charms on him. He knew it wasn't true, but he liked to think that anyway. Luckily, even in such a state, he could vaguely hear what the pastor was saying.

"Before your friends and families, I ask you to affirm your willingness to enter the covenant of marriage and to share all the joys and sorrows of your lives and your relationship, whatever the future may hold. So Charles," the pastor called, "would you like to do the honours?"

This was the part during the ceremony of which the sweethearts were expected to take their wedding vows. Charlie looked at the pastor briefly, who looked right back at him, and then turned to look at his future wife, almost losing himself in her chocolate brown eyes.

"Hermione," he managed, emotion clogging his throat, "I'd like to begin by saying that I see these vows not only as promises but as privileges. For what a privilege it is to be able to stand here, in front of our friends and families, and finally be able to commit to you in a way I've always dreamed of.

"Today is just the beginning of our lives together, and I can assure you, with every beat of my heart, that my love for you will only grow with every second that passes in our lifetime together," he spoke with an emotional voice, sincerity laced in every word he said as Hermione began crying beautifully under her vail. "Hermione Jean Granger, I vow to fiercely love you in all of your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget this once-in-a-lifetime love. To always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find our way back to each other.

"My life is forever entangled with yours from this day forward. You are my life, my greatest gift, and I'll be the luckiest man in the world to be able to call you my wife. Hermione, I promise you everything you've ever dreamed of, not just as your husband, but as your best friend, your faithful lover, and your greatest supporter. Let me vow to be the shoulder you can cry on, the man of your dreams, and the companion of your life," he sobbed, clutching her hands tighter out of nervousness. "Today is the day I promise you that you'll never have to face the world alone again."

Charlie and Hermione's guests collectively erupted into awes and sniffles as Charlie finished his vows, but the bride and groom's eyes remained locked on each other, transfixed. Hermione had began sobbing from the first mutter of her name, forcing Ginny and Elaina to sneak tissues up to altar to help their friend rid the tears from her cheeks before her makeup could smudge. In the distance, Charlie could hear the faint wails and murmurs of, "Proud! I'm so proud!" coming from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the front row, and it surprised him even more to hear Harry and Ron struggle to contain their emotions from their places on the altar behind him.

There was a brief moment of silence, allowing everyone to try and pull themselves together, before the pastor cleared his throat and called out once more, "Hermione, please, whenever you're ready."

The bride wiped her eyes, cleared her throat, then managed in a breathy whisper, "My darling, Charlie. What can I say to you that you don't already know? For years I have loved you, cherished you, cared for you, and even hated you and your heroic tendencies. Still, I cannot say that I'd trade our love for anything.

"In your expressive eyes, I found total compassion. In your rare tender heart, I found priceless love. In your kind soul, I found my other half, my lifelong partner, who is worth everything I have to offer," she pressed on, tears rolling delicately down her cheeks. "And so today, I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness, and to have the patience that love demands. To speak when words are needed, and to share the silence when they're not. To agree to disagree on Muggle cappuccinos, and to live within the the warmth of your heart and always call it home.

"I'll celebrate your triumphs, and for your failures, I'll love you even more. Charlie, there's nothing I want more than to pledge to be your greatest supporter, loving companion, and partner-in-crime for the rest of our lives together," she said truthfully, from the bottom of her heart. "You've been my best friend, playmate, confidant, and my greatest challenge. But most importantly, as the love of my life, you've made me happier than I could've ever thought possible. As you said, today is the beginning of our lives together. So I choose to spend today, and all of my tomorrows, with you. Because I love you, Charles Florent Amadeus Hawthorne... I always have, and forever will."

With his gaze so fixated upon his bride, Charlie forgot about the watching crowds as Hermione's words replayed so effortlessly beautiful in his head. It was as though he and Hermione were the only two people within the marquee, their shaking hands still interlocked together. The only time Charlie managed to become aware of anyone else was when the pastor spoke up again from his podium behind them.

"Do you, Charles Florent Amadeus Hawthorne, take Hermione Jean Granger as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

"I do," he answered almost immediately, his voice — even though he had no idea how it was possible under the circumstances — became strong and confident; Hermione widened her smile a bit at this. Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie could see as the pastor nodded in approval.

"And do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Charles Florent Amadeus Hawthorne as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poor, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

"I do," came the immediate answer from the bride, and she squeezed Charlie's hands tighter. For a second, he had no clue that he was holding his breath when the pastor asked Hermione the question, but as soon as she gave the positive answer, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"...then I declare you bonded for life."

Charlie was so lost in his thought that he barely could hear what the Minister was saying but he could tell that people around them — especially Mrs. Weasley, who would deny it if anyone dared to say that — were crying. Seconds later, he saw as the pastor raised his wand high over their heads and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiralling around their now entwined figures; the same thing happened during the wedding of Fleur and Bill as though it were tradition.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," called the pastor, with a cheery tone of voice. "Charles, you may now kiss your bride."

"Gladly," beamed Charlie, and he didn't have to be told twice. He leaned towards Hermione, who smiled at him happily, and gently pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was slow and quite romantic, for they wanted to enjoy their first kiss as a married couple as long as they could, neither of them wishing for it to end. They were so lost in their kiss that they completely ignored people's cheers, as well as the furious clicks of cameras, when the silver stars began to flicker brighter than before.

"You know," Hermione breathed once they parted for air, "that may have been my favourite kiss we've ever shared."

"That was only the beginning," Charlie promised his wife. "We've got the rest of our lives to practice."

Hermione laughed in response before the happily married couple turned to face their guests. Taking her hand in his, Charlie led his new wife into the waiting crowds of their friends and family. Without hesitation, the couple were swamped with well-wishers, and Hermione felt Charlie's hand slip from her grasp. Despite not being in physical contact with her new husband, Hermione kept him in her eye line the entire time until they were able to re-join hands.

"Come on, we have to go and sign the papers," Charlie whispered to Hermione, making his way back over towards her, as Mrs. Weasley announced it was time for people to momentarily clear the marquee so that the reception could get underway. "We're not officially married until the papers are signed."

"I thought we weren't officially married until the marriage was consummated," Hermione teased as they made their way through the crowd, marching back towards the altar.

"Don't worry, I intend to do that as well," Charlie grinned at his wife. "The second the pastor has the papers in order, we're going to Hogwarts and making use of my new Headmaster's desk. D'you reckon anyone will notice if the bride and groom are missing from the reception for a few hours?" he asked jokingly, ghosting his mouth over her ear.

"You're terrible," Hermione laughed as she followed her husband towards the back corner of the marquee, where the pastor and Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, were waiting.

The orchard around the Burrow was flooded with golden light, the breeze rustling gently through the leaves in the trees as Charlie and Hermione signed their marriage contract. They kissed to the sounds of applause and the roaring whoops of their wedding party; Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Elaina, each standing alongside them just as they had always been before.

Charlie felt his heart would surely burst.

"I love you," Hermione whispered, as her and Charlie took a moment to themselves to relish in their first fleeting moments as an officially married couple.

"I love you, too," Charlie replied, kissing her lips chastely, well aware that their whole life was ahead of them, a life he was so thankful to live. "Always."

————————————————————

August 27th, 2002

Alone in his Headmaster's office, Charlie Hawthorne had just poured himself a nice cup of tea and was settling down to enjoy it, scribbling a few final notes about the first week of classes on a piece of parchment, when there was a knock on his door. His curiosity peaked, Charlie reluctantly placed his tea on his desk and yelled a quick, "Come on in!"

The clicking of her heels gave her away before the door had even fully shut behind her; Charlie's smile grew as he set his quill down and stood, moving around his desk to greet his gorgeous wife with a chaste kiss.

"Hello, Minister," he teased against her lips, making Hermione blush nervously at the title she had acquired recently, "to what do I owe this unexpected, yet much needed, visit to Hogwarts?"

"It's always a pleasure, Professor," giggled Hermione, playing shamelessly with the hairs on the nape of his neck, her arms wrapped around him. "However, I do wish for us to drop such formalities."

"Probably for the best," laughed Charlie, kissing her again. They pulled apart again and he cupped her cheek, asking, "But seriously, my love, what're you doing here? I thought you had a meeting with Kingsley this afternoon."

"I did," Hermione sighed, dropping her hands from around his neck reluctantly, "though I suppose Kingsley thought it best for me to take the day off. He said he'd noticed that I had been looking quite ill for the last few days, you see."

"Still?" asked Charlie worriedly, walking back around his desk to his Headmaster's armchair. "Bloody hell, Hermione, do you think you could've gotten food poisoning or something when we went on holiday? Should I call Madame Pomfrey and ask for help — ?"

"No! There's no need!" Hermione waved him off, her eyes panicked suddenly. "I've already been to St. Mungo's," she told him, "and, well, there's something I've been meaning to tell you..."

"What is it?" Charlie looked towards her warily, trying to find her eyes that seemed so determined to avoid his. "Hermione, you're scaring me — is there something wrong?"

"No... at least, I don't think so," gulped Hermione, ringing her hands out anxiously as she began pacing the floor. "It's j-just — I've been meaning to tell you for weeks, but I never knew how to bring it up. And now, I don't even know how your going to react. B-But I thought if I could come here and blurt it out, I'd stop feeling guilty about keeping this from you —"

"Hermione," Charlie cut her off, his body tensing as he slowly approached her again, "what're you saying?"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione merely stared at her husband for a moment. Charlie noticed her biting her lip, something she only did when she was nervous about something. He looked back at her questioningly. Inches between them, Hermione took his hands in hers again and began to draw circles on the back of his hands, preparing to whisper the two words that would drastically change their relationship forever...

"I-I'm pregnant," she breathed, searching Charlie's beautifully golden brown eyes for an immediate reaction at the news.

"Y-You're — you're what — ?" he stuttered, his heart racing at a remarkable pace. His eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head as he swayed on the spot, struggling to keep his balance while Hermione's words repeated over and over inside his head.

"I'm pregnant, Charlie," she repeated, her voice cracking ever so slightly. Her hold on him tightened, her breathing growing heavy. For a moment, there was a slight pang of fear at his apathetic reaction, for there was no indication as to what her husband might've been thinking. Her heart was relieved, however, as Charlie's eyes lit up at the confirmation and a wide smile curled its way onto his pink lips.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, and asked, "You're sure?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled, linking her hands around his neck. "Yes, I'm sure. The healers at St. Mungo's told me that I'm about six weeks —"

The words got stuck in her throat as Charlie took her face into his hands and kissed her with an overwhelming amount of passion. He pulled her further into his arms, lifting her off the ground and twirling her around with a joyful cheer in celebration. His wife merely giggled into his shoulder, placing multiple kisses to the side of his face until Charlie finally placed her back down on the floor; they stumbled together slightly as a result of their shared excitement.

"We're having a baby!" Charlie cheered, twirling his wife around again. "Woo-hoo! We're going to have a —" He stopped as quickly as he had started and put Hermione carefully back down. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you or the baby, did I?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Hermione assured him with a chuckle, kissing his cheek as a means to remove the sudden worry etched in his face. "Besides, you know how much I love seeing you like this."

"My love," whispered Charlie, placing his forehead down upon hers, "I don't think I've been this happy in my entire life!"

"I love you," she told him, leaning up on her tiptoes to give him a soft kiss on the lips. "We love you," she added, moving her hands down towards her stomach.

Charlie smiled widely before crouching down so that he was eye-level with his wife's growing baby bump, placing a few kisses over her clothed stomach as a form of endearment. His eyes travelled up to meet Hermione's and, with her hands brushing through his messy locks of hair, Charlie began whispering sweet nothings to her baby bump, to their growing baby.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming," he demanded softly, standing back up again slowly. "Tell me that when I wake up tomorrow, you'll still be pregnant with our baby. Because everything feels a bit surreal right now."

"You're not dreaming," Hermione grinned and kissed her husband once more. "I'm really pregnant, baby."

Charlie deepened their kisses, making them slow and passionate, as he slowly backed Hermione into his Headmaster's desk. He picked her up by the backs of her legs and gently placed her on the surface of the hardwood desk, keeping his lips locked with hers as he did so. Lost in a moment of pure serotonin, their kisses were only broken by the infectious chuckles and elated smiles that fell from their lips.

"I'm going — to be — a father," he mumbled between kisses, making Hermione giggle excitedly at his words.

"The best father," she told him wholeheartedly, wrapping herself around him before they got lost in their excitement together, solidifying their love in the most sensual touches and passionate kisses for hours on top of Charlie's newfound Headmaster's desk...

Just as he had promised her on their wedding day.

————————————————————

By the time Hermione had reached her fourth month, her baby bump was growing to be a bit more conspicuous. The more tight-fitting dresses she'd been used to wearing to Ministry events and meetings felt uncomfortable stretched around her protruding stomach. Their trips to the Healers had become a frequent routine, and Charlie noticed his wife was nearly always tired, grumpy, or hungry. The days of which the three were combined (as they usually were), it was like a bloody tornado of emotions. If Charlie sometimes thought dealing with Hermione when she was fussing over exams was too much to handle, then pregnant Hermione's difficulty was amplified by at least tenfold. She had her good days, of course, but the pregnancy was really beginning to take its toll on her.

Charlie would sometimes tick the months off on both hands, figuring out how many approximate weeks he had left until the baby would be born. It wasn't that he thought his wife was too much to handle or anything, but sometimes she'd start crying, other times she'd start snipping and berating him for the littlest of things.

But still, he wouldn't've traded his life for anything.

By the time Hermione's baby bump had become noticeable, they'd broken the news to their friends and family. The reactions they'd received varied; Harry and Ron fought over who'd be the godfather; Elaina and Ginny seemed to know before anyone the news had actually been revealed; Mrs. Weasley cried; Hagrid blubbered into his handkerchief; Professor McGonagall let out a shriek of utter surprise; Mr. and Mrs. Granger were overjoyed to become grandparents; and the entire Wizarding World had congratulated them once Rita Skeeter made the front page of the Daily Prophet with the announcement:

'HEROES OF WAR EXPECT FIRST CHILD!'

One evening, after a long day of work as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Charlie returned home and found his wife reading in the rocking chair he'd built for the nursery. On the weekend, they had wasted the day away, painting the walls a soothing shade of yellow, and Charlie used his wand to charm his paintbrush into applying the right amount of coating to the walls.

Smiling to himself at the memory, Charlie leaned his body against the doorframe and watched his wife, her attention caught by the pregnancy book she held in her hands. She was muttering under her breath as though reading to their unborn baby; Charlie felt his heart race at the sight. Her stomach had grown to be quite large by now, and Charlie often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky to be able to come home to this.

"Nose stuck in a book, I see," he teased, causing Hermione to jump ever so slightly as she took in the sight of her husband, her lips curling upwards without the slightest hesitation at the sound of his voice. He let out a breathy chuckle, "Why am I not surprised?"

His wife blushed, setting the book down.

"I want to be prepared!" she defended, giggling softly to herself. "Having a baby is a big deal, Charlie."

"There's prepared, and then there's madness," he responded, crossing the room to place a kiss on her forehead endearingly; he stepped over the stacks of parenting guides his wife had acquired over the last few weeks. "You'll be a great mother, you know."

"I'm going to lay off all my other books for a while," Hermione sighed adamantly, and she stood for a moment so that Charlie could sit in the rocking chair and pull her into his lap. "But enough of that now, how was work?" she added, nuzzling into his embrace.

"It was good, it was Neville's first day as a replacement for Professor Sprout," he answered, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist. "He's also invited us over to his and Luna's for dinner next week."

"That sounds great," Hermione placed a swift kiss on her husband's lips. "I haven't seen Luna since —"

Her voice had trailed off, with an abrupt halt, and she had began to inhale sharply much to her husband's immediate concern.

"What is it?" asked Charlie, scared, as Hermione's hands flew to her stomach. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"It's... give me your hand, Charlie," she breathed, and without waiting for a response, she took Charlie's hand and pressed it against the swell of her stomach, looking at him with glossy eyes and a watery smile. Charlie's eyebrows furrowed together and his lips tugged into a pout: what was he supposed to be doing? Then, just as he was prepared to ask, he felt something shift inside of her. His eyes grew wide and he glanced down at her stomach, in awe of the sudden movement.

"What...?"

"It's the baby, Charlie," Hermione said finally, emotion clogging her throat. "The baby's kicking."

The world seemed to stop around him, and after a moment, Charlie sat up a little, fisting his fingers in the soft material of his wife's shirt. His fingers dusted across the swell of her protruding stomach, entranced by the sensation of their baby kicking against its (his? her?) mother. He leaned forward, pressing his face against Hermione's shoulder and whispered the only thing he could think of.

"W-Wow..."

Hermione giggled before she bent down and captured Charlie's lips again, placing her hands over his on her stomach. She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb as they pulled apart, holding on to him tightly.

"I think she's missed her father."

"She?" he asked, raising an eyebrow towards his wife.

"Yeah," Hermione grinned, "it's just a gut feeling..."

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During the seventh month of her pregnancy, Hermione began to stress out over names worthy of their unborn child more than anything else. Hidden within all the different books and guides she'd bought on pregnancy, they'd found a few different ones solely dedicated to names; poplar Muggle names, popular Wizarding World names, uncommon names, traditional names, symbolic names. The lists stretched on and on, and every time Hermione would drag out one of those heavy tomes and insist they flip through it, Charlie got a searing migraine out of nowhere.

The truth was, as their due date grew nearer, Charlie's reality began to set in like a dark cloud hanging over him. He had suddenly grown terrified of becoming a father, and it felt like the real terror of the job that awaited him was growing to be more and more real with each passing second. The end of Hermione's pregnancy was nearing, and Charlie was struck with the realization of what would await him at the end of the tunnel: a breathing baby that was his to hold, cherish, and raise.

He was petrified.

He didn't know how to be a father.

How could he?

He barely had a father figure in his own life.

He was lost.

He was scared.

What if I turn out to be like my — ?

He couldn't even finish that sentence...

"Charlie," Hermione repeated, nudging her husband as they settled into their bed at the end of the night.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said... what do you think about the name Scarlett for a girl?"

"Yeah, I like it."

"You do?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay," Hermione sighed, sitting up and staring down at her husband, who'd been staring aimlessly at the ceiling of their bedroom. "What's going on with you?"

Charlie gulped, his eyes travelling to meet her, "What do you mean?"

"You've been acting strange all night," Hermione pursed her lips at him, her eyebrows cocked accusingly. "So," she insisted, "tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing," Charlie lied quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose as means to escape his wife's demanding gaze. "I've just had a bad day at work, is all."

"Don't do that," Hermione demanded hotly, smacking his arm quite harshly. "How many times must I tell you not to lie to me? You'd think that after five years of us being together you would've realized by now that your rubbish excuses never did work on me."

"Please, Hermione," Charlie sat up in their bed, his back now resting against the headboard as he let out a grand sigh. "I'd rather not talk about this right now."

"Tough," Hermione narrowed her eyes, "because if you don't tell me what's going on, you'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight."

Charlie gaped at her, "You can't be serious —"

"With my pregnancy hormones the way that they are," Hermione quipped back, resting one hand against her stomach, "I think you'll find that I'm quite serious, Charles."

His eyes wide at the use of his official name, Charlie directed his full attention towards his wife. Despite all of the mood swings and troubles that had come along with being pregnant, she had never gone so far as to have them not sleep next to each other every night. Realizing the severity of the situation, Charlie leaned his head back against the headboard with a sigh. He then took Hermione's hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing it as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I've just been thinking a lot lately," he confessed in a breathy whisper, slightly ashamed as Hermione's eyes raked him intently. "Just about the baby and how it'll feel to become a parent, you know? And I dunno how to explain it, but I've been thinking about my own father —"

"Fenwick's dead, Charlie," whispered Hermione gently, her expression softening as worry replaced the fury in her eyes. "He has been for awhile now, and while I understand that he's still your father, I really hope you haven't given him such power over your —"

"That's not it," interrupted Charlie, shaking his head. "Believe me, he's the last thing on my mind. It's just — I dunno — Hermione, how am I meant to be a father when I never actually had one of my own? To be honest, I have no idea what I'm meant to do —"

"Hey," Hermione nuzzled closer into him, placing gentle kisses on the underside of his jaw as a means to comfort him. "We're in this together, and we always have been. Do you honestly think I know what I'm doing? We're both completely new to this, baby."

"I know, I know," Charlie nodded, holding her tighter in his arms. "B-But there's just this awful feeling I have," he took a deep breath, his hands slightly trembling, "b-because what if I'm destined to become just like him, Hermione? I'd never w-want our child to experience w-what I went through, but the mere thought of th-that is scaring the hell out of m-me..."

There was a solemn tension that filled the bedroom at Charlie's confession, and Hermione could've sworn her heart cracked ever so slightly as tears began to stream down her husband's cheeks. Burying his head in his hands, Charlie sobbed uncontrollably as he let his wife held him against her swollen frame, her lips peppering several light kisses against his head.

"Listen to me," Hermione whispered, emotion clogging her throat. "You are not your father, Charlie. This child — our child — will love you regardless of anything," she kissed him again, pulling his attention towards her so that she could look deeply into his eyes, "and we'll raise them to know the difference between right and wrong, my love, I promise."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Charlie coughed, his voice hoarse with emotion. "It's just... I don't want anything to happen," he sighed, placing his hand gently on his wife's growing bump. "This is our bundle of joy, this is something we've created. It's proof of how much we love each other, and I j-just — I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you or them."

"You know, it's moments like these that only prove that you're already a better father than Fenwick could've ever dreamed of being," Hermione told him, tilting his chin up to meet her gaze once more. "And there's no doubt in my mind that you'll show our baby the love they deserve. No matter how hard things may seem, the two of us will always figure it out, okay? So please, Charlie, don't be so hard on yourself because even I have no idea what is going to happen."

Charlie managed a smile in response to this, his mood changing at the sincerity and utter belief laced in his wife's voice. He nodded, stealing a kiss from her lips to express his gratitude, before trying to lighten the mood within the confines of the bedroom once again.

"You mean you haven't looked it up in those parenting guidebooks of yours?" he asked, grinning.

"Not yet," said Hermione playfully, smiling and shaking her head, "I suppose I should, though. But no, like I said, we're both completely new at this. I mean... okay, we've seen Elaina and Harry, and some of the Weasleys go through it, but now it's personal to us."

"It's finally something we can learn together," teased Charlie, pulling his wife into his chest. "Something I don't have to copy off of you."

Hermione let out an infectious little giggle.

"Finally," she feigned a sigh, "after all of these years."

Charlie chuckled, pulling the covers over them, before he peppered a few more kisses across Hermione's face, pressing her back against her pillow. Then, as his wife went to deepen their embrace, Charlie pulled back teasingly and ghosted his lips overtop of hers.

"So," he drawled playfully, "does this mean I don't have to sleep in the guest room tonight then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and swatted his arm again.

"Prat," she said mischievously, and her arms snaked around his neck and pulled him back into her endearing embrace, their lips reconnecting before they'd eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

————————————————————

May 3rd, 2003

The ninth and final month of Hermione's pregnancy had Charlie in a constant state of uncontainable happiness. His worries about becoming a father had been shoved aside in favor of fretting that at any moment he'd glance over and find his wife going into labour unexpectedly. Hermione had assured him that she would know the minute of which the baby would be coming, and despite the fact that this was meant to comfort Charlie, it did nothing but set him on edge.

Charlie feared that if he fell asleep he'd wake up the next morning to Hermione screaming in pain; he hated the thought of leaving her when he went to work or out to run errands, and his paranoia had finally amplified so strongly that he took leave from work in order to stay home with her. Hermione had insisted he was being ridiculous and over-protective, but her husband hardly cared. His main concern was his wife; his wife and the baby growing inside of her. He wanted to be prepared for everything, which was an identifiable characteristic trait he'd adopted from her over the course of their relationship.

It happened one night as they were seated by the warmth of their living room fireplace — Charlie was going through some owls he'd received earlier that afternoon from Hogwarts, and his wife was attempting to knit a hat for their baby. They worked in silence for a few fleeting moments, but when Hermione stood and waddled over to pick up her basket of yarn, she gasped so loud that Charlie nearly fell out of his desk chair at the abrupt sound. He glanced up, hearing the pitter patter of some sort of liquid hitting the wooden floor. The letter he'd been clutching in his hand fluttered to the ground, and he gazed at his wife in both bemusement and wonder.

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Charlie," she began, her voice slightly urgent. "Charlie, my water broke."

"So that means...?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed, turning to face him with wide eyes. "The baby's coming."

His eyes wide, Charlie made quick haste to run through the house and gather everything they'd packed for this very moment. He even was able to instruct his miniature owl, Fozy, to deliver handwritten letters to their friends and family that announced Hermione was going into labour. In record time, Charlie swung their bag full of baby necessities over his shoulder, took hold of his wife's hand, and Floo'd them both to St. Mungo's as Hermione squeezed his hand tighter, groaning from contractions.

By the time they'd registered and signed in to St. Mungo's, Hermione felt beads of sweat come down her brow, her contractions coming more and more frequently as she tried to breathe deeply to relax herself. Her grip on Charlie's hand had tightened so much that he could've sworn the bones were broken, though he didn't seem to care all that much as he merely brushed a handkerchief across her forehead.

They had been given a private room to deliver the baby, and Charlie had been silenced in a dumbstruck awe as Healers swarmed the room, prepping his wife for the delivery. Hermione screams of pain grew louder, and when her husband finally gathered the strength to watch the process of his baby being delivered, Charlie was certain he was going to be sick.

He was also determined never to have sex again.

He took Hermione's blood curdling screams as a wordless agreement.

————————————————————

"It's a girl!" the Healer exclaimed over the shrieks of the newborn baby, after hours and hours spent in the pregnancy ward at St. Mungo's. In that time, Charlie never dared to leave Hermione's side for a single second, for he was too preoccupied whispering comforting words in hopes of calming his wife down.

"You hear that, my love? It's a girl," he restated proudly, squeezing Hermione's hand once as she struggled to regain control of her breathing. "Here's to hoping she'll be just like her mother."

Charlie placed a few kisses to the side of her head, chuckling softly as a means to hide how nervous and excited he was that their baby girl was finally here. Hermione didn't rise to the bait as he'd expected her to, shifting slightly on the bed instead and patting for him to join her as the Healers cleaned their baby. Charlie quickly joined his wife in bed, and by the time their baby was finally delivered to them, he could've sworn his baby girl was the most beautiful creature in the entire world. His previous thoughts of uneasiness and terror fled from his mind, and instead Charlie became entranced by the small baby bundled up in swaddles of cloth and cradled in Hermione's arms.

(A/N: the noah gifs work SO well loll)

Their baby girl already had a few dark brown locks of hair, and Charlie reached over with a finger to brush his hand against the soft curls. Tears streaming down her face, Hermione leaned up and placed a watery kiss on her husband's lips before they both broke into content sobs as their little girl wiggled ever so slightly at the voices of her parents. The Healers left the married couple alone with their baby girl for a moment to allow them to get comfortable, and Charlie bent downwards and pressed a soft kiss to the baby's forehead, unable to stop himself from grinning ear-to-ear at the sight of his daughter.

Never in his life had Charlie seen nothing more beautiful, his heart stuttering uncontrollably in his chest. He was certain of it, even if he couldn't find the words capable to express the elatedness he felt.

"She's perfect, Charlie," whispered Hermione, smiling, as she rested tiredly against her husband's shoulder.

"She is, she really is," replied Charlie wholeheartedly. His throat was nearly swollen shut and it had grown rather difficult for him to talk, but he knew Hermione would understand that. Together, they were the perfect family. He could envision the three of them building a life together; growing up and growing old.

Charlie could even picture his little girl receiving her letter from Hogwarts and boarding the Hogwarts Express in a decade or so. He was lost in a daydream as he imagined the most perfect life for his wife and daughter, with the exception of a few more additions to the family in the future, and it was only when he heard someone else announce their presence that he even bothered to acknowledge that anyone else existed in the world. He blinked, unrelentingly beaming, up at the Healer who had dared to disturb the Hawthorne family's moment of blissful peace.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" the Healer asked expectedly, his quill and clipboard in hand. Hermione glanced at her husband and smiled, nodding once more before licking her lips and speaking up.

"Her name is Scarlett," she answered softly. "Scarlett Julianne Granger-Hawthorne."

Scarlett Julianne Granger-Hawthorne.

And just like that, their angel was perfectly named after a true angel in Heaven... Charlie's mother.

Julianne Dumbledore.

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

because I've been gone for so long I thought it only fair to give y'all PURE #charmione fluff!!

bit of a shorter chapter but writing the epilogue is harder than I initially anticipated loll

sorry to keep you guys waiting, I've missed you sm!

also special thanks to TomasGranger003 for some help writing when I got stuck <3 ilyyy

hope you enjoyed the chapter, lmk what you thought!!

*insert begging for votes and comments*

xo, selena

p.s. thank you for 400k reads!! LOVE YOU GUYS!

(A/N: just for fun loll)