Chapter Text
The month after Charlie left for Romania to work his notice period and get his things in order, was simultaneously the longest and shortest month Hermione had lived through. The week immediately following the dragon rescue, she’d been floating on a funny little high. Replaying that kiss so often, she swore she could still feel his lips if she just closed her eyes and let her mind do its thing.
She was reminded of it often enough those first few days. Not only because she herself daydreamed of it, but also because of work: filling in forms, updating her supervisor and putting together a report on the dragon. So many people asked about it that she couldn’t help but be reminded of Charlie at least three times a day.
It wasn’t until two full weeks had passed that an owl arrived with a letter from Charlie. When Hermione found the little owl waiting for her outside her apartment window, she had to take a few deep breaths to steady herself. Heart pounding wildly, she was irritated to find her fingers shaking as she undid the parchment from the bird’s leg.
Hermione absentmindedly tossed a slice of ham to the owl and undid the parchment with undue haste.
Hermione,
Hope you’re doing well. It’s been a busy couple of weeks for me here, training in my replacement but
all’s going to plan, so there’s no need to worry about me, love.
Your dragon’s here now. We’ve called her Hestia - after the Goddess of Hearth and Fire.
She’s doing well though she’ll never be released. She’s going to be a permanent fixture at
the reserve for the remainder of her life. She’ll do well though, supplying dragon scales as
they naturally come off, paying her keep with them, so to speak.
Mum owled to say there’s a welcome dinner the day I get back. Can’t wait to see everyone.
I’ll see you there, yeah?
C.
Hermione turned the page over, feeling silly even while she did it. There wasn’t anything else. She couldn’t help the lump forming in her throat, nor the feeling of utter disappointment. Why she had expected more, she wasn’t sure. She knew Charlie was an incorrigible flirt, seven years her senior, never short of a woman on his arm if he so wished. She knew because Molly, and even Bill at times, openly lamented his womanising ways.
She was such an idiot for having had notions. Notions that she was different. She wanted to laugh, though all that escaped was an embarrassing sob followed by a blasted hiccup. What was her problem? It wasn’t that she was in love with Charlie. Far from it. But damn, for a moment, she allowed herself to believe that the attraction went both ways. Idiotic.
Determined, she threw another treat at the owl before callously using the back of Charlie’s letter to reply.
Charlie,
Thank you for letting me know about Hestia.
It’s a great name for her.
I do expect that I will see you at the dinner, Molly has been talking about little else.
H.
She decided that she had been incredibly stupid. It was a kiss. Nothing else. Charlie, with his easy charm, was difficult to resist but still, it was just a kiss. What’s a kiss between friends, right? Hermione knew for a fact that nothing else would come of it and that Charlie had likely forgotten all about it. It hadn’t been significant, after all, in the grand scheme of things.
Idiotic. Idiotic, idiotic, idiotic. Yet, she was still thinking about it. About that indeterminable time his lips moved against hers, their tongues dancing. His arms had held her tightly and her body reacted as if scorched. There had been butterflies in her past. With Victor, with Ron, with Daniel. With Charlie, there hadn’t been butterflies. It had been an entire zoo.
Merlin, how was it that a single kiss could turn her, a perpetually logical woman, into such an airhead?
Hermione huffed at herself in annoyance and watched the owl disappear into the evening, deciding that she would put Charlie and his charm out of her head. She would see him at the dinner. She’d be polite, then she’d take herself and her dignity home and forget all about any further romantic involvement with him.
****
Hermione smiled to herself as she walked up the garden path to the Burrow. She was looking forward to catching up with Ginny who had just returned from another successful match the night before. She had said she had news. Hermione wondered what it was, whether it had to do with rumours she’d heard about Ginny trading active play for sports reporting in the Daily Prophet.
Likewise, Hermione was craving a catch up with Ginny because she wanted to talk about the date she’d been on with Grant Page, a former Ravenclaw and now working in the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He’d been charming and funny, and just plain nice .
As always, the sight of the Burrow filled her with warmth. Home. It had always been home to her, as much as Hogwarts, and - she had to admit to herself - even more so than her parents’ home. She barely knocked on the kitchen door before letting herself in and cheerfully greeting Molly who was busy rolling out dough on one end of the scrubbed wooden table.
“Hermione, dear! Good to see you,” Molly called out with a warm smile on her face, not once stopping with her task.
“Afternoon, Hermione,” Bill called out to her from his seat at the other end of the table, a mug of tea in his hands. She hadn’t expected him to be there today.
“Hi, Bill. How are you? How’s the family?” Hermione walked over to him and he stood to briefly hug her.
“Family’s great. They’ll be over shortly, as well, to help mum prepare for tomorrow.”
Hermione tried to keep her expression neutral, though Bill had always been very observant and, by the way he arched his brow, he saw right through her. She consciously unclenched her jaw and made her mouth form into a semblance of a smile.
“Of course. I’d nearly forgotten.” Which, of course, was a big, fat, lie. No matter how much she’d been telling herself that it didn’t matter, that it was merely Ron’s brother coming home. A simple family dinner. One she’d thought about any time she didn’t make a conscious effort to distract herself. Oh, who was she kidding? Bill smirked at her. Clearly, she wasn’t fooling him either.
Footsteps on the stairs pulled her out of her reverie and she turned, happy to get away from Bill and finally getting to catch up with Ginny. When she looked up, however, her heart stopped. The redhead in front of her was blue-eyed, so freckled that he looked tanned, and definitely not due to arrive until tomorrow. Hermione tried to swallow but her mouth had gone completely dry.
“Hermione,” Charlie called, grinning at her. He came to stand in front of her and scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around once before standing her back down. She still hadn’t found her voice, her stomach had relocated to somewhere near her throat, and her heart was beating out of her chest all of a sudden.
“You’re here.” Idiot , she scolded herself as she pointed out the obvious.
“Nice to see you, too, love.” Charlie winked at her before nonchalantly going to pour himself a mug from the big teapot on the stove. Hermione wished she’d been prepared to see him. She could feel the heat creep up through her and she knew her face must be aflame. Merlin, she was pathetic.
For the last two weeks, she’d been telling herself that she was good being single. Strong, independent, and in no need of a man in her life. She’d been determined not to let Charlie get under her skin. She’d had a plan. A plan to be courteous to him, without being too friendly. She was going to distance herself from him and pretend the kiss never happened.
She’d gone as far as agree to a date with Grant, only to make a point to herself that she was single, free to see whomever. Hermione had planned what she would wear, and say - or not say.
The plan did not include a sudden appearance of him a day early, nor did it include her traitorous body reacting to him in such a fluster. Hermione tried to calm herself, looking at anything but Charlie which made her catch Bill’s eyes and she averted her gaze quickly, studying her shoes.
“Tea?” Charlie asked from where he stood by the stove. Hermione really wanted to just get away and order her thoughts that were whirling around her brain. Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a good excuse not to accept a cup. She heard herself accept with a breathless, “Yeah, thanks.”
After putting the mug on the table in front of her, Charlie sat down opposite and raised an eyebrow at her, looking utterly amused. “You not gonna sit?”
“No! Yes! Of course.” She closed her eyes briefly and wondered when she’d last been that tongue-tied. Charlie apparently thought along the same lines.
“Lost your speech again?” he smirked at her. Hermione cleared her throat and went to sit down, crossing her arms tightly over her front.
“Of course not. I’m just surprised, is all.” She was glad her voice sounded at least somewhat irritated.
Molly, who had been quiet so far, closed the oven door on the buns she’d just made and said, “Charles, leave the poor girl be. We’ve all been in a tizzy since you arrived a day early - unannounced, may I add - not that we aren’t happy to have you back here, but a little notice would have gone a long way. You can’t expect everyone to wax lyrical about you, either.”
“Thanks, Mum, makes me feel so wanted.” He rolled his eyes but looked amused anyway until Molly started up again.
“Of course you’re wanted here. You know there’s always a place for you here. Truth be told we’d hoped you would’ve brought home a lovely girl.”
Hermione couldn’t help the small grin at Charlie’s tortured expression. Bill hid his own grin behind his mug of tea. It was well-known that Molly’s aim in life, besides having her children in respectable jobs, was to see them happily married and producing grandchildren for her to dote on. It appeared Charlie was the current target.
A part of Hermione was interested in what Charlie’s reply would be, a smidgeon of hope within her wishing he’d say something corny like ‘why would I bring a witch home when the perfect one for me is sitting right here?’ but she firmly told herself to get a grip. That crush she had on him was quite likely one-sided and she certainly needed to keep her head on straight. Whatever he did respond was lost to her, as Ginny had burst into the room, throwing her arms around Hermione and loudly declaring to everyone that she was going to steal her away from the kitchen.
Ginny unceremoniously dragged Hermione off her chair and into the garden, not stopping until they were in the far back of it, hidden among the orchard trees. Once there, Ginny stood and beamed at Hermione. Amused, Hermione returned her wide smile which quickly turned to concern when Ginny’s face fell only a second before the young woman had to turn away in a rush not to throw up on her friend.
“Ginny!” Hermione shook herself to action. “Come on, I’ll get you back inside and -”
“No!” Ginny straightened, pulled her wand out and vanished her sick, then used a quick cleaning charm on herself. “No, it’s good, I’m fine. Honest.” She looked at Hermione with another smile. Hermione wasn’t sure if Ginny hadn’t been hit with a bludger the previous evening at the Harpies match for her to be so happy about vomiting.
“I have to tell you something. You can’t repeat this to anyone. Swear you won’t!” Ginny waited until Hermione did so. “I’m pregnant.”
“You… oh, Ginny, that’s wonderful!” Hermione went to hug her friend, though hesitated at the last moment, lest she would be sick again. Ginny laughed and closed the distance between them. “Congratulations, Ginny. I’m so happy for you!”
When she let go, Hermione’s smile fell from her face. “You flew in the match last night! Are you mental? Do you realise what you risked? You-”
“I know, I know! Hermione, I know! Except, I didn’t know, did I? Only found out this morning.” Ginny leaned against the tree behind her. “I’m going to have a baby,” she added in a surprised voice.
“How’s Harry? Is he as happy? I hope he is. I know he wanted this for a while.”
“I haven’t told him yet. He’s on assignment until tomorrow. I just had to tell someone, so I went here since I knew you were going to be here and oh Merlin, Hermione, I can’t tell anyone until I’ve sorted myself out. I’ll need to go onto the reserve team until we can figure out my maternity leave and it’s still so early and I don’t know if I want everyone to know because the bloody Prophet will be hounding us again and how am I going to do this?”
With a dramatic sigh, Ginny slid down the tree trunk she’d been leaning against.
“Oh Ginny, it’ll be fine you’ll see! It’s so exciting.”
“What’s exciting?”
Ginny scrambled up to stand again at Charlie’s voice, just as he came to a stop next to Hermione who pressed her lips into a thin line.
“Mind your own business, Charles,” Ginny grumbled. “Need to know basis, and you do not need to know. Why don’t you go back in to mum? She’s been looking forward to your being here so much, you might want to go speak to her.”
“Oh c’mon Gin, don’t send me back in there, she’s trying to set me up on dates. I’m not even officially home yet and she’s trying to play matchmaker already.”
Hermione wished she hadn’t been looking at him as he spoke. Her face felt warm at his blatant opposition to commitment and the quick glance he’d shot in her direction as he spoke to Ginny didn’t fill her with confidence. She suddenly wanted to get away and sent an apologetic look to Ginny as she made her excuses.
“I really need the loo. Sorry guys, I’ll be…” Hermione trailed off as she all but ran back to the house. Instead of the loo though, she took off around the house once she was out of sight and disapparated home as soon as she cleared the wards.
***
She was running out of time. If she didn’t hurry now, she’d be late to the Burrow. Annoyed with herself, Hermione picked up the facecloth and scrubbed her face clean. Why was she even bothering with make-up? It wasn’t as if she’d normally wear any. Screwing her eyes up in humiliation she scolded herself firmly that she shouldn’t paint the gloop on herself just to catch his eye.
Before she could try and paint her eyes again, she grabbed her wand and concentrated on her destination. Almost immediately, she was accosted by several people who exclaimed that they’d feared she wouldn’t come since normally she was first to arrive. Hermione laughed it off and excused herself to the loo to catch her breath.
Charlie looked delicious in his blue shirt. Wherever he found it, she was sure it bordered on indecent the way his muscular arms looked barely restrained in it.
Hermione heard Molly announce loudly that dinner was ready just as she emerged from the bathroom. Thank Merlin. Not only because she was quite famished, but also because she was looking forward to catching up with Ginny and Ron and Harry. The four of them usually sat close to each other so they could chat easily. It would give her a much-needed respite from the onslaught that Charlie caused her frayed nerves.
Smiling, she walked through the kitchen into the garden where Arthur had set up an extra-long table for the occasion. She quickly scanned over the set-up only to find that, while she was indeed seated opposite Harry and Ginny, and next to Ron on her left, the man to her right was none other than Charlie. She groaned inwardly and plastered a smile to her face before sitting down.
Molly had outdone herself. The feast she’d whipped up surpassed even the lavish welcome feast at Hogwarts. For the first few minutes, conversation was sparse as everyone tucked in, the common denominator being sounds of utter delight at the food they ate. Hermione closed her eyes, savouring the creamy, buttery flavour of her simple mashed potatoes when his elbow brushed against her arm.
She swallowed thickly and moved a little towards Ron who was shovelling food into his mouth like it was going out of fashion. Ginny stared at her brother disapprovingly, then leaned towards Harry only to speak to him in a stage whisper.
“No wonder Ron’s single. You’d think he grew up feral, the way he’s attacking the food.”
Ron’s ears turned red and his fork was left suspended half-way between his plate and his mouth as Harry cracked a grin. “I’m not apologising for liking Mum’s food,” he growled around a mouthful of carrots. The gravy-soaked mash dripped off his fork and splatted back onto the rim of his plate with an audible squelch.
Hermione bit her lip in order to not laugh at Ginny’s smug expression. She averted her eyes only to be met with George’s outrageous grin. Hermione had seen that look on George before. She put down the glass of wine she’d just picked up. Best to wait and see what would happen to everyone else before she took a sip.
Just as she went back to her food, Charlie’s knee brushed against hers under the table. Hermione stiffened and shot an irritated glance at the man next to her but his attention was solely on Angelina to his right, with whom he appeared to be in deep conversation about Quidditch.
Now that the first appetite was satiated, conversations sprang up all around her. For a moment, she merely enjoyed the low chatter, letting it wash over her without hearing what was said. Then, Ginny’s voice amplified in her ears.
“Hermione,” Ginny sang while waving a hand up and down. Hermione focussed on her friend. “There you are, welcome back!” Ginny grinned. “You dreaming of the sexy Grant? I asked you how your date went!”
“Oh!” Hermione could feel several pairs of eyes on her, not to mention the wizard to her right had gone quite still as well. She didn’t dare look in his direction. “It went fine, I guess. It was nice.”
“Nice,” Ginny repeated in a flat voice. “Details, woman! What do you mean by nice ?”
“You gonna see him again?” Ron asked, not waiting for an answer to Ginny’s question.
“You should, dear,” Molly said, immediately latching on to the idea of Hermione finding herself a man. “I have heard many good things about him. Very responsible and upstanding, I believe.”
“Quite right, my dear,” Arthur added. “He is a very courteous young man. You both would make a striking pair.”
Hermione was quite aware by now that her face resembled the colour of ripe tomatoes.
“So?” Ginny demanded. Hermione decided it was probably better to head the lot of them off. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Grant. He was nice. There hadn’t been a spark between them though. Not even a faint flicker of one.
“We’ll see,” she settled on in the end. “I don’t see the need to rush into anything.”
“You’ll see him again though,” Molly insisted, rather than asked.
“I’m sure I will,” Hermione said, thinking that it wasn’t even a lie - after all, they both worked at the Ministry and it was inevitable that she’d see him there. Molly, apparently satisfied, sat back with a wide smile on her face and lifted her wine goblet, giving Arthur a speaking glance. Her husband also picked up his and stood, clearing his throat.
“Charlie. Welcome home, my boy. Everyone else, thank you for being here to welcome our Charlie home with us. To Charlie.” He lifted his wine in salute and took a sip.
Collectively, they lifted their own drinks but waited to see if anything would happen to Arthur first. They had learned after the last family meal, when George had spiked the punch with a new product that made everyone squeak like mice when they tried to talk. It had been experimental at that point and three people had been so receptive, they hadn’t stopped squeaking for two days, meaning they had to call in sick to work.
“Go on, drink up!” Arthur urged, taking a shallow bow to show nothing untoward had happened to him. The table at large began snickering and everyone else, bar Hermione - and George, she was unsettled to see - finally drank.
“George, what did you put in the drink?” Hermione asked loudly.
“Nothing much, you’ll see,” was his cheeky reply, just as the whole party erupted in a cacophony of animal sounds. Clearly no longer satisfied with simple mouse squeaks, it appeared a whole zoo had been invited to dinner.
Next to her, Charlie opened his mouth to laugh but the only sound escaping him was a dragon’s roar, which made him laugh harder, and the roar louder, drowning out the timid barking to Hermione’s left - a clear imitation of a West Yorkshire Terrier.
Harry’s deer bellows were drowned out by Ginny’s neighing next to him. Percy literally hooted with laughter while his mother clucked like the Mother Hen she was.
Hermione shook her head, laughing at Fleur’s embarrassed expression when her laugh turned out to be the bray of a donkey. Bill made a sound that had Hermione clutch the sides of her - he sounded like Chewbacca from the Star Wars movies she’d watched with her parents. She vaguely thought of looking up which actual animal that might have belonged to.
Furthermore, a hyena, a monkey, a whale and several more native species joined the chorus for the next quarter-hour. One by one, the effect wore off to everyone’s great relief. Hermione, quite thirsty by now, vanished her wine and went to open an entirely new bottle, then passed it along the table.
“Ah c’mon,” Charlie murmured, leaning into her just as she took a sip. “Weren’t you at least curious to see what animal he had for you?”
His deep voice did things to her that she wished it didn’t. Goosebumps raced down her arms and she fought hard to suppress a shiver. She plastered a grin on her face though.
“Hey George, what animal was I going to be had I drunk it?” she called over to the prankster in question.
“You’d have hissed like a snake!” he answered as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. At Hermione’s surprised look, he added, “It was the closest thing to a worm, ya bookworm.” George shrugged his shoulders with a chuckle. Hermione shook her head at him.
“There you go, now you know what I would’ve sounded like,” she informed Charlie unnecessarily and immediately wished she hadn’t turned towards him because he was way too close for comfort, and did she imagine it, or had his eyes briefly flicked to her mouth as she spoke? She quickly straightened and fiddled with the napkin in her lap, folding and unfolding it with great concentration.
Much to her relief, Charlie let himself be pulled back into Quidditch talk and she concentrated on catching up with Ron and Harry, doing her best not to let on that she knew about Ginny’s pregnancy. Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked from Ginny’s wine to the witch and back, biting her tongue in order to not ask why she was drinking if she was expecting - and then she stared at George, wondering if the product he’d used was safe in pregnancy. She’d nearly blurted it out, too. Instead, Hermione resolved to make sure to ask in private, later. Not much to be done about it now, anyway, she reasoned with herself.
Once the dinner was cleared and desserts aplenty were put in front of them all, it had turned into an even more relaxed gathering. Hermione enjoyed listening to the friendly banter around her and closed her eyes in appreciation when she took yet another spoonful of the decadent triple chocolate brownie.
Feeling a hand at her spine snapped her eyes open. Charlie leaned back, a mug of tea in his right hand, his left arm across the back of her chair. His thumb was rubbing lazy circles on her while he easily held a conversation with Percy and Bill across from him.
Her breath caught and she accidentally inhaled a crumb of brownie causing her to cough violently. Charlie’s hand came to her back fully, lightly patting her. Several voices asked if she was okay while her eyes watered and she choked out, “Water.”
A glass was pressed to her lips.She grasped it, and the hand around it, in both of hers, taking eager sips and trying desperately not to choke on those as well. Charlie chuckled into her ear and murmured, “Smooth.”
She wanted to hex him. And kiss him.
Merlin, he overwhelmed her without even trying. She was sure she was out of her depth with him and barely able to tread water, never mind navigate whatever this was.
By the time she had recovered her wits, he had already returned to his conversation and she sat up straighter, making a renewed effort to pay attention to her friends.
***
They’d relocated to the Burrow’s cosy sitting room. Hermione sat on the couch, next to Ginny who sleepily cuddled into Harry. Poor Harry, who still didn’t know that he’d be a dad before long. Hermione smiled wistfully at the couple and wished, not for the first time, that she’d find the same connection with someone.
Unbidden, her eyes drifted to Charlie who was engaged in a chess game with his older brother. As she watched, she heard Bill call out, “Check,” with a big grin.
Molly and Arthur had long since retired, Fleur had taken Victoire home, and Ron was quietly talking with George - no doubt about a new product.
Hermione yawned and excused herself quietly in order to use the toilet. It was time for her to leave, too, she thought.
As she opened the bathroom door, she gave a helpless squeak when she was unceremoniously shoved back into the small room. The door closed and she was pushed up against it, Charlie’s mouth instantly claiming hers, Hermione’s arms trapped between their bodies.
All the reservations, objections, logic and reasons she’d talked herself into went straight out of her brain. He engulfed her. His arms, his scent - oh how she loved his rich, earthy scent, part aftershave, part just him. Much as she had told herself she wouldn’t let him near her like this, she held nothing back.
Hermione wriggled her arms out and reached up, encircling her arms around his neck and holding him close. Charlie’s mouth began to wander across her cheek, down her neck and back up to her ear. She shivered.
“You tease,” Charlie murmured into her ear, playfully nipping her lobe. “You went on a date.”
“How does that make me a tease?” she asked, then let out an almost embarrassing moan when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Instead of an answer, he just continued kissing her, his hands pulling her ever closer and exploring her bum and back.
“Did he kiss you like this?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, he didn’t kiss me at all.”
“Good.” His mouth claimed hers, his lips all but bruising hers. After a long moment, he pulled back with a curse, both his hands on either side of her face, holding her steady. “I don’t share, Hermione.”
“Neither do I, but I’m not yours, am I?” Hermione whispered back at him. She wasn’t going to be his plaything for whenever the mood struck him. She was worthy of better.
“Aren’t you?” Charlie nipped at her lips again, but she turned her head away. His hands fell to his sides. “You don’t want to be with me.” It wasn’t a question. Hermione closed her eyes.
“I don’t want to be your rebound for that woman at the reserve,” she said at length. “I don’t want to be your entertainment until you tire of me and then move on to the next person. I’m tired of dating and being used because I’m convenient.”
“You think I’m using you? Merlin, there’s nothing convenient about you. You do realise if I had intended to play with you, as you put it, I’d have the wrath of my entire family after me? I’ve been watching you for years, Hermione. Years. This isn’t new.”
Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to take in what he was telling her. It couldn’t be true. Her mouth worked around consonants and vowels that simply wouldn’t manifest. Helpless, she watched as Charlie’s grin slowly grew to that resembling a Cheshire Cat.
“I see you’ve lost your speech again,” he murmured and leaned in, not quite closing the gap, his eyes holding hers. “Give me a chance, Hermione.”
Her head swam, their breaths mingling. Wasn’t this what she’d fantasized about for the past month? Charlie was offering her fantasy on a silver platter. She swallowed and cleared her throat.
“I don’t share either,” she said thickly. “If I give you this chance, we’ll go slow.”
This time, he didn’t hesitate. With a growl that sounded alarmingly like, “mine,” he covered her mouth with his in a way that curled Hermione’s toes in her shoes.
******
Epilogue
Hermione smiled as she watched Charlie bounce his four-month-old nephew James on his knee, making swooshing noises and telling the baby all about how he, his uncle, would teach him to ride a broom and not the boy’s dad.
“Hero that your dad undoubtedly is, I’m still the better flyer,” he told him smugly.
“Don’t you think between Ginny and Harry they’ll manage?” Hermione asked, amusement evident in her voice.
“Ah, but I’ll be the fun uncle.”
“Of course.” Hermione tried to keep the sarcasm out of her tone but failed to keep her face straight as she walked over to the two. “It will be a long time anyway before James will be allowed anywhere near a broom, so there’s no need to plan lessons just yet.”
“Speaking of how long… how long do you think we should let them sleep?” Charlie asked, nodding his head towards the staircase which led to Harry and Ginny’s bedroom. They were babysitting James in an effort to give the young parents some much-needed rest.
“Give them the night off. Ginny left expressed milk in case he gets hungry. There’s enough until the morning.”
“C’mon then,” Charlie said, getting up and holding James close. “Pack his bag and we’ll take him with us.”
***
The next morning saw a decidedly more awake looking couple stare down at an exhausted Hermione, fast asleep next to Charlie with James babbling to himself between them.
“Suits them, doesn’t it?” Ginny asked.
“What, James?” Harry asked, bemused.
“A baby. Not ours. They can make their own.” They grinned at each other and Ginny continued in a whisper. “I’m so glad Hermione gave in.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was so afraid they wouldn’t last. Now look at them.”
Harry looked at his wife instead. ”How long do you think we should let them sleep?”
“Oh, leave them be.” Ginny leaned over and picked up a contented James. “I missed you, little man. Especially my boobs did. I hope you’re hungry.” She winced as James smacked his arm off her full breast. “Oh, you better be hungry.”
Together, the three of them quietly left Hermione’s apartment.
Charlie put his arm around Hermione and pulled her close to him, spooning her.
“They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were,” he muttered into her hair.
“Mmhmm,” she replied.
“Were you really that afraid?”
“Mhh I was, before.”
“No more reservations?”
“None. I love you and I’m not letting you go.” Hermione turned and kissed him on the lips. “You do know you are stuck with me, right?”
“Mhh, I love you, too. Never been as happy to be stuck.”
“You should probably move in. You know, officially.”
“You sure?"
“When’s the last time you were in your own flat, Charlie?”
He grinned. “Good point. D’you know what another good point is? They’re right. I’d like one of those.”
“Hmm? One of what?”
Charlie’s hand traced her side, her hip, her thigh before lightly rubbing her abdomen. “A baby. I’d like one of those.”
Hermione started at that, her eyes searching his. “Really? Even after last night? Have you already forgotten how little sleep we had?”
He chuckled at her. “I didn’t forget. But imagine the fun we’ll have making him.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her nose. “Hours of practising.”
“That’s a lot of talk, Mr Weasley.” Hermione smirked up at him.
“I’ve always been more of an action man, Miss Granger,” he growled and proceeded to be just that.