"Weasleys, assemble!"

Charlie and his brothers gathered by the gramophone as the female guests made their way into the middle of the marquee, ready for Ginny to throw the bouquet. Charlie could just about pick out Artemis' bare feet amongst the high heeled shoes, stepping lightly as she moved restlessly through the throng of women.

"I don't understand why I 'ave to join in," Fleur was saying to Bill. "I am already married!"

"It's just a bit of fun," Bill replied, kissing her on the cheek. "And I think that you'd be good at it."

Once Fleur was in the crowd and out of the way, George brought out the bag of Galleons.

"This is it, lads," he said. "Only one of us can win all the gold."

Ginny closed her eyes, and threw the bouquet backwards over her head. A split second later, it was carnage.

The little crowd of women turned into a mob, a mosh, a scrum, scrambling and tackling each other to try and grasp the bunch of flowers. The brothers laughed and cheered them on from the sidelines, and after a minute or two of jostling, a hand appeared, rising from the rabble, clutching the now-crumpled bouquet. Each brother strained to see who that hand belonged to.

"YES, AUDREY!" bellowed Percy, throwing his fists into the air.

Somewhat begrudgingly, George handed Percy the bag of Galleons, and Percy shook each of his brothers' hands in turn.

"Thank you, gentlemen," he said pompously. "Pleasure doing business with you all."

"What are you going to spend your winnings on, Perce?"

"Well..." Percy sniffed, and adjusted his glasses. "I'm thinking I might use them to purchase an engagement ring."

Ron looked stunned, and Bill clapped Percy on the back. George hugged him, and Charlie shook his hand again, before Percy ran to Audrey, his arms outstretched.

"Well, fancy that," a deep, reverberating voice said behind Charlie. He turned to see Kingsley Shacklebolt watching the women mingle in the centre of the marquee.

"I know." Charlie shrugged. "All those Quidditch players, and not one of them caught the flowers."

"I really thought it would be Tiny."

Charlie followed Kingsley's gaze to where Artemis was standing on one leg, rubbing the arch of her bare foot, as she chatted with a couple of women Charlie recognised from the Quidditch matches at school. Her eyes were still lit up from the exhilaration of the chase, her untameable hair had come almost completely loose, and there was a dark scuff mark on her shin. He smiled.

"At least she looks happy," Kingsley said. Charlie wasn't sure if he was addressing him or just thinking out loud, but he nodded anyway. "That's what matters."

"Yeah."

"For a long time, I thought I'd never see her this happy."

"So did I."

"I should've known that she would be. She might have had to fight for it, but she always was a fighter." Kingsley chuckled, a rich, melodious sound. "She was such a tough little thing. Wild. But you know that."

"I do," said Charlie, his eyes still on Artemis. He laughed quietly to himself. "She still is."

"No, that will never change."

"I wouldn't want it to."

Kingsley patted Charlie on the shoulder, slowly and just once, and Artemis caught sight of them watching her. She ran towards them, holding one side of her dress up so she wouldn't trip on the hem. As she approached them, Charlie shook his head in mock-disappointment.

"What was that?" he asked her. "Pathetic attempt at catching a bouquet. And you call yourself a Seeker!"

"Tell you what, Charlie, next wedding we go to, you can have a go. I doubt you could do better, especially against that Audrey." Artemis looked over her shoulder at Percy and his soon-to-be fiancée, a dark look on her face. "That woman is feral. You have no idea."

Charlie and Kingsley exchanged glances over the top of Artemis' head.

"I'll take your word for it," Charlie said, trying not to laugh. "I'll add her name to the list of women who scare me."

"Is my name on that list?"

"I think it might be on there twice."

Artemis nodded, clearly satisfied with that answer.

"I actually came over to say goodnight," Kingsley told them.

"Are you off?"

"I am. It's tiring work, this politics. But I'm sure I'll see you soon, Tiny. You look beautiful tonight, by the way."

Charlie stepped backwards and averted his eyes so that Artemis could say goodbye to Kingsley in private. When he felt her return to his side, he held his hand out for Kingsley to shake.

"It was good seeing you again."

"You too, Charlie," said Kingsley, shaking the hand Charlie extended to him. "Perhaps you would like to go for a drink next time you are in the country. You can tell me more about those dragons of yours."

"Yes, that sounds great. Thank you, Mr..." Charlie stopped mid-sentence and corrected himself. "Thanks, Kingsley."

The Minister for Magic bowed his head, and walked off to find the bride and groom. Charlie turned back to Artemis and put his arms around her shoulders.

"No fancy dinner for us, then," he said with a sigh. Artemis smiled as she leaned against him, playing with the ends of his loose bow tie.

"That's a shame. I was really looking forward to you wearing the suit again."

"I can just wear it around the house some time. You can feel free to do the same with that bra, if you like."

"I dunno." Artemis took her hands off Charlie's tie, placed them on her ribcage, and started to wriggle. "It's actually not that comfy."

Charlie watched her as she squirmed.

"Is it not?" he asked. She shook her head, and her nose twitched. She was lying. "Should we go home and take it off?"

A wolfish smile played on Artemis' lips. Charlie took her right hand in his left, and they went off to say their goodbyes before they left the marquee.

Outside, the night had grown colder still. Charlie let go of Artemis' hand and draped his jacket over her shoulders. She held out her arm, and he took hold of it, and with a sound like a firecracker, they disappeared from the darkened garden of the Burrow, and reappeared in the hallway of Artemis' old house.

It was strange, the way things changed, Charlie thought, as he kicked off his shoes, and she pushed his jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She'd lived here when she was a child, before he even knew her. Before the first time he ever saw her, eleven years old and tiny and dishevelled and lost and all alone.

She'd lived here when she was thirteen, the age she was the first time he hugged her, he thought, as he held her in his arms. She unbuttoned his shirt and let that fall to the ground, too. He took hold of her wrists to reposition her hands, the way he had when she was fourteen, and he taught her to ride a broomstick.

She led him up the stairs, and he followed her — he always followed her — hand in hand, like they had been at sixteen, clinging to each other for comfort in the middle of a storm. At the top of the stairs he unzipped her dress, and she stepped out of it, almost bare, and so vulnerable, as vulnerable as she had been at just seventeen, when she was going through the unimaginable. He'd been there then. He'd seen it. He'd seen her through it. She got through it. She always did.

Her hands were at his belt, and his trousers were removed, exposing his legs. He'd tried to run from his feelings, he really had. He'd managed it for years, but... she placed his hands on his chest — the chest that held his heart, the heart that beat for her — pushed him into the bedroom.

His lips met hers, the way they had that very first time, as adults, on the edge of the forest whilst the world burned and raged around them. He'd thought that it was all over, that it was the end for both of them. But it wasn't the end. It was just the beginning.

And as they sank down onto the bed — they'd had that first time in this very bed, too — and their bodies melted together, he knew that this was a beginning, too. Every moment, every single moment, was the first moment in the rest of their lives.

He'd loved her for half his life. He still loved her. And she loved him.

And that was enough.

It was enough.