Hand clutching her father's large one, Charlotte walks through the cemetery with him. Charlie smiles weakly at the young girl as they walk side by side, his and Newt's secret was out after she passed as he needed as much help as he possibly could with the girl, but he still managed to raise her by himself in the small cottage of the Scottish Hills.
Newt had given birth a month before her death, the only people knowing apart from the couple was Regulus, Tonks and Remus, Tonks and Newt often met up at the cottage to discuss their pregnancies.
It came to a bit of a shock when he admitted to the family-along with Newt and Tina who had come home to Britain after hearing the news- that they had a child, the Weasley's never thought Charlie would be the first to have a kid.
And Newt and Tina never thought Newt would want a child either as she had always said unless it was the perfect person, she obviously did find the right person after all.
It was hard raising her by himself, but he had his family and Regulus to help, but what he found harder was answering the 'Where is my Mummy?' questions.
It still breaks him thinking about her death, the way she looked so peaceful as she lay amongst the other bodies, the red painted on her lips and the paleness of her face.
There are some days where he wakes thinking he can't go on, but looking into the room beside his and seeing his daughter who reminds him so much of her mother makes him realise he has to, no matter what. For Charlotte... for Newt.
Stopping in front of the gravestone he wipes the layer of snow from the top and sets the bouquet of foxgloves onto the grass before it.
As his daughter shivers beside him he unwraps his scarf wrapping it around her instead.
"Dad?" The twelve year old question.
"Yes, Sparrow?" He asks setting a hand on her shoulder as they walk away from the grave.
She looks up at him, snow landing in her auburn hair as her hazel eyes look questioningly at him, "Do you think Mum would be proud of me? For being in Slytherin?"
"Who wouldn't be proud of you?" He asks smiling down at her, "I bet she's up there right now watching over you and wishing she was here with you."
Charlotte looks down at her feet as the snow crunches under her boots, "Are you sure?"
He nods stopping them and turning her to face him, "I have never been more sure than anything in my life."
They continue on their journey down the path, Charlotte smiling to herself and Charlie thinking over old times like he usually does, "You remind of her."
"Who?"
"Your mother," He says after a long silence, "You don't just look like her you have her spirit, the same 'I-don't-care-what-anyone-thinks' attitude."
"Well, that's because I don't care what anyone thinks, they are entitled to their own opinions, not my fault they're usually wrong." He chuckles stopping at the end of the street and holding his arm out for them to apparate.
Landing in the garden of the Burrow the pair smile at the smell of Christmas wafting into the air, "Uncle Charlie!" A young James yells as he stops mid snowball throw to run over.
He jumps up hugging them both, and Charlie ruffles his hair, "Lily started walking, have you seen?"
"The last time we visited, James," Charlotte says as she follows him inside, "Is Teddy here?" She asks.
James nods and points over to where the Metamorphous, who sports neon green hair, is sitting by the frozen lake. Charlotte looks to her father who nods towards Teddy and then she takes off running jumping on him and scaring him.
The last thing Charlie hears before getting overwhelmed with the chatter of his family are the giggles of his daughter and the scream of horror from Teddy.
He smiles shaking his head as he hangs up his coat, "Just like her mother."
~ The End of Fire and the Flood ~