Archive of Our Own

Section One

Charlie Weasley was not a happy man.

"No way, Alex. Just... no."

"Come, now, Charlie. You know large-creature medivets are required to do a rotation with dragons in order to complete their training. No need for a strop every time someone requests to come here. You have to work with them."

"Then let them do their rotations in Wales. Why the bloody hell do they have to come here?"

Alex looked at the redheaded wizard squarely in the eye. "The trainee requested Romania, and evidently Wales already has their full allotment of medivet trainees. And you know we really need a qualified medivet here; we're still short one since Jakob moved back to Norway. If this trainee works, we won't have to keep looking."

"Requested Romania? Why?"

"Several reasons, it seems. She said she's heard of our work, and wanted to gain experience with a larger variety of dragon breeds. She knew the Welsh reserve really only keeps Welsh Greens and she'd heard of our diversity. This trainee was adamant - she wanted to come here. Something about it being more challenging. She's evidently top of her class at the British Large Creature Mediveterinary Care Institute."

Charlie groaned. "She requested to come here? A bird? Are you sure she's up to it? The last two female medivets left early, requesting transfers to smaller reserves. Does she know what she's signed up for? And damn it, Alex, ‘top of her class' just means she's had her nose in a book to pass her written exams. You and I both know that doesn't necessarily translate into success in the field!"

A familiar feminine voice sounded from the door behind him. "Well, Charlie Weasley, I've been through worse, and there does come a time when you have to put the books down and put your knowledge to work. I figure that's about where I am with learning to heal dragons."

Charlie turned toward the voice, taking a visual inventory. She was an intriguing combination of loveliness and practicality. She was outfitted in sensible boots, khaki trousers that hugged her hips, and a white cotton shirt. Her face was pretty, even if it was twisted into a wry smirk. Her body was simply luscious - slim, but with gorgeous feminine curves. Framing her face was a wild mane of hair.

When he saw that hair, there was no doubt as to her identity. It had been several years since he'd last seen her, but she had always been unforgettable. "Hermione?"

Her face split into a wide grin. "In the flesh! I guess this hair is a bit of a trademark." She said, laughing as she stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

After a moment, Charlie leaned back to consider her. "Well, even so, you've changed a fair bit since I last saw you."

"I suppose I've changed...."

"How long has it been? Three years?"

"I think it was at George's wedding, which was almost four years ago. I bet I've made it to more Weasley Christmases than you in the past ten years, and I'm not even a Weasley."

"You probably have," he said with a sadly. "Once you're in the swing of things, it can be difficult to remember to make the time to get away. For that matter, why didn't you tell me you were coming? Hell, why didn't I hear you were becoming a medivet? How did you decide that?"

"I didn't tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. The decision to be a medivet sort of made itself after I took my N.E.W.T.s and found I could go into the healing arts. I've seen enough human pain and suffering to last a lifetime, and had no desire to spend my life fixing other peoples' magical mishaps. Working for the Ministry was never an option - how can you work for someone you don't trust?" She shrugged, as if the decision she'd reached was the only logical one.

Charlie nodded his understanding.

"So I suppose no introductions are required, then?" Alex asked, lips quirked with blatant amusement.

Charlie smiled at his boss. "Sorry, Boss. Alexandru Antonescu, may I introduce you to one of my youngest brother's best friends, Hermione Granger. It is still Granger, isn't it, Hermione? It seems I'm not up on the most recent gossip from home."

"Yes, Charlie, it is still Granger. And I've not quite yet become a medivet. I still have to complete my dragon rotation. I've done the other large-creature rotations, along with the general rotation, including caring for familiars."

"You've done the entire equine rotation?" Alex asked with a raised brow.

"Yes. I've worked with every magical equine available. Abraxans, Aethonans, Granians, Thestrals, and unicorns." Hermione rocked back on her heels the slightest bit.

"You can treat unicorns?" Alex asked with a raised eyebrow.

The question behind the question was implicit, but clear. Hermione blushed. In her hasty desire to prove herself, she had forgotten the principal requirement for touching unicorns: one must be a virgin. She bit her lip in hesitation to buy herself a moment so she could consider her response.

Instead of answering his question directly, she decided to divert his attention.

"It's not exactly necessary, is it? Their own magic generally heals almost anything they encounter, except the worst injuries - which are usually inflicted by humans. But yes, I've worked with them," she said, tense with embarrassment. "Look, I'm here to work. I've worked with everything from Bowtruckles to Hippogriffs and everything in between. I have worked my arse off just to get into this programme; I didn't get in on my name or my personal affiliations. Ever since I got into the programme, I've slaved to stay in and to prove that I really deserve to be here. I neither desire nor expect special treatment. I wanted to train here, because it's the best dragon sanctuary in all of Europe, and I believe that I want to work with dragons for my career. If I want to be the best, I have to work with the best...."

Alex jumped in to avert her ire. "Hermione, we didn't mean that you weren't qualified. It's just that the medivets who come here are usually blokes, and they tend to be a bit older when they choose to come to work with dragons. For a lot of them, it's something they want to do before they die. It's not their first choice. So they rotate out after a year or two, and we're stuck looking for another medivet."

She looked at him, puzzled. "Kind of a revolving door of blokes who want to be able to brag about having worked here?"

"You could say that, but I doubt many wizards would understand the 'revolving door' concept," Charlie answered with a chuckle.

"Charlie, she's been assigned to Jakob's old quarters. Why don't you show her the way?"

Charlie moved to pick up the bags she'd brought into the office. "Sure, Alex. C'mon, Hermione, let's go. Where're the rest of your bags?"

Hermione smiled. "I only have these two," she said, pointing to the bags on the office floor.

Charlie gaped at her. "Two bags? I thought you said you were planning on staying for a while."

"Oh, I am. I'm a dab hand at undetectable extension charms," she said with a smirk.

Charlie groaned, shoulders slumping. "Please tell me that you're also a dab hand at featherweight charms."

"But of course. Stop complaining."

As they left the building, Charlie began orienting Hermione to the sanctuary. "This area is called the quad, because the four main buildings are here. You've already seen the administration building." When they descended the stairs, he pointed to its neighbor. "That's the big house, where Alex and his wife live. The house is divided into two apartments. One apartment is for Alex, and the other is for the chief medivet. You haven't met him yet."

Pointing across the quad, he indicated a one-story building with plenty of windows and smoke billowing from the chimney. "There's the canteen. They make amazing coffee, but the tea is like muddy water," he said with a shiver. "Avoid it at all costs, no matter how homesick you feel. The good news is that the food is quite good; it's hearty more than fancy, though. They know that they need to feed us well, or we can't do our jobs effectively."

"Can they make a decent shepherd's pie?"

"It's pretty good. Not as good as Mum's, but better than most."

"I guess that'll have to do, then," she said.

"Mm. Yeah. You get used to it, I promise. The crew here is a good lot. I know you're far from home, but this will become home, if you let it. Why do you think I stay?" He grinned winningly at her.

Hermione looked up at his handsome, friendly face and smiled. "That's what I'm hoping for, Charlie."

He looked into her eyes for a moment or two, and when the silence grew to the point of becoming uncomfortable, he pointed to a building to their left. "There's the main infirmary, in case any of the trainers or staff get seriously ill or injured. There's a smaller first-aid station closer to the pens for immediate care, but this is where you come if they need to keep you overnight."

"Seems that those would be the two most popular buildings at the sanctuary, then, hmm?" she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"The canteen and the infirmary? Absolutely. Oh, and you should know that while the canteen only serves three meals a day, the kitchen is always open, as long as you clean up after yourself and don't touch anything that's labeled for a specific person or purpose. You will appreciate the availability when you have to work into the night and need some coffee to stay awake. A word to the wise: as the new person on staff, and as a woman, some of the blokes may try to make you fetch their coffee. Don't let them bully you."

Hermione snorted ungracefully as she squared her shoulders. "Don't worry. I've had more than my fair share of intimidation in my lifetime. I do not suffer bullies, and I don't allow anyone to push me around."

Charlie glanced at her, a slight look of surprise on his face. "Hermione..."

"Oh, Charlie, I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound quite so harsh. It's just that when I applied to this programme, the admissions board tried to encourage me into a softer discipline, something gentler, more ‘appropriate' for a witch. Once I completed the standard training, I had to fight just to get accepted into the large-creature programme, and even once I was accepted, some of the instructors tried to treat me differently than they did the men in my classes. I've had to prove myself time and again, and frankly, I'm tired of it." She pulled her foot back and then viciously kicked a rock in her way.

"I can understand that."

"Good. I don't want people to think I'm difficult, but I also don't want them to think they can treat me like dirt, either. I plan to go into this job respecting my peers and demanding respect in return."

Charlie nodded to her and shifted his hold on the bags. "Can I give you a bit of advice?"

She turned to face him with an open expression and slight curiosity. "Of course."

"You're going to be working with a lot of wizards. Most of these men are my age and older, and they're not accustomed to working with women or Muggle-borns. It's their nature to be rough, crude, and terse. They will say things that would make a Jarvey blush. They aren't interested in engaging in intelligent discourse, nor do they care about fascinating facts. They want to go in and get the job done safely and get out in one piece without discussing everything. Of course, there are the exceptions to this rule."

"Would you be an exception to this rule, Charlie?" she asked, eyes narrowed speculatively and head tilted to one side.

Charlie blushed. "I consider myself an exception to this rule. So is my friend Jack. He's a good sort, and we both started at the same time. He's American, and went to the Salem Institute in Massachusetts. I'll introduce you to him at dinner. He's checking on some of the nesting females just now; it looks like they'll be laying eggs soon."

"Oh, that sounds lovely. So, where will I be staying?"

"Follow me, my fair lady. I will show you to the staff lodgings." He waved one bag-laden arm before her and then led Hermione to an area about a Quidditch pitch's distance from the quad. "Here we are. Staff tents."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Tents?"

"These are proper wizarding tents, Hermione, designed to be lived in long-term. They have indoor plumbing, kitchens, warming and cooling charms, and all the comforts of home. They're more like small houses than tents, except for the external appearance."

Hermione took a steadying breath and nodded. "Let's go," she said, sounding more certain of herself than she felt.

Charlie led the way down the path to Hermione's new tent. "Here you are. Home sweet home."

"You mean, ‘Tent sweet tent', don't you?"

Charlie laughed. "Come on in, Hermione. You'll see. It's not like the tent you used with Harry and Ron. This is of much higher quality. I've lived in one for years. Give it a chance."

"No offense intended, but I think I'll believe it when I see it, Charlie."

"In that case, allow me," he said, opening the flap to the tent.

Hermione entered the tent, unsure of what to expect. Charlie was proven right, however, when the tent's lounge was welcoming and homey. "So far, so good, Charlie."

"I told you so," he said with a smug grin. "Shall I give you the grand tour?"

"Yes, please."

Charlie proceeded to show Hermione to the kitchen, the master bedroom, and the en suite loo. When they left the bedroom and were back in the hallway, Hermione noticed one door that they hadn't explored yet.

"Is that the linen closet?"

He smirked and shook his head. "Nope. I saved the best for last. Go on in."

Hermione opened the door and her whole face lit up. "A spare room? I can have an office with plenty of room for my books!" With a whoop, she turned and hugged Charlie with exuberance.

After a brief moment of surprise, Charlie hugged her back. He didn't fail to notice the plump fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest. It had been far too long since he'd had the company of a lovely young, single woman; working with almost all men had put a damper on his love life, much to his - and his mother's - chagrin.

"So, where's your tent?"

"It just so happens, I'm just across the way. Would you like to see?"

"I would love to. Whenever we heard stories from Ron about your life at the sanctuary, I always wondered what it was like firsthand. Everything feels so new, yet so familiar."

"I'm glad you feel comfortable, Hermione. What I was saying before, about most female medivets bailing less than halfway through the programme wasn't just bluster. It seems that the medivets who make friends of the staff and make connections tend to do better. And we actually could use another permanent medivet, since Jakob left. You won't be able to fill a permanent staff position until your rotation is complete, but if you do well, and you like it, you might decide you want to stay." He paused. "I'd like you to stay."

Hermione smiled at him. "You know, that's sounding better and better, the more I learn about this place. I can't wait to see some of the dragons, though. It's been a long time since I've been around one."

"How long has it been?"

"Since Gringotts."

"Ah. Yes. That was epic. I was never prouder of you three. Do you know rare it is to ride a dragon? Do you know how cool it is to be able to say you broke into - and out of - Gringotts?" He practically vibrated with repressed excitement and jealously.

Hermione snorted. "I think I screamed practically the entire time we were airborne. Not too much to be proud of, there."

"Of course there is! Do you know, I've never ridden a dragon?"

"Heh. Well, I've ridden a dragon, a Thestral, and a Hippogriff." She said, ticking them off on her fingers as she reviewed her list. "It might seem adventurous, but Harry and Ron are good enough to only tease me about how much I screamed - which was the entire time, each time - when we're in private," she said with a shudder.

He clapped her on the shoulder. "Well, you're in luck. We don't expect you to fly the dragons; just heal them."

"That I can do. Come on, show me your tent, and then let's go to dinner. It's been a long day, and I'm famished." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear again. It slithered free a moment later, to his amusement. It was untamable, just like dragons.

True to his word, Charlie's tent was across the walkway from Hermione's. His tent was a bit larger than hers, owing to his years of seniority. When Hermione entered his spare room, she gasped.

"I think you might have more books than I do!" She looked at some of the titles and marveled at the depth and breadth of his collection.

Charlie cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" He somehow found that hard to believe given Ron's effusive statements about Hermione's reading habits over the years. "If you see anything that interests you, feel free to borrow it."

"Thank you! I plan on taking you up on that. It looks like you have an impressive collection," she muttered as her fingers brushed along the spines of the tomes.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it. Now come on, let's get to dinner while they're still serving."

•◘•◘•◘•

 

They arrived at the canteen late, almost missing dinner. By the time they had loaded up their plates with roast chicken, buttered peas, and boiled potatoes with butter and retrieved drinks and silverware, it seemed that the rest of the staff had already eaten and taken their leave. As there wasn't anyone to join, they took a table alone. Charlie looked at Hermione, and he seemed to be deep in thought.

"You know, it's funny. I've known you for almost twenty years, and yet I feel like I still don't really know you."

Hermione burst into laughter. "I'm not much of a puzzle, you know. I'm a fairly open book. Just a simple dentists' daughter. You, however... I've been hearing stories about you for so long. You were always the dashing, wild, dragon-keeping bachelor."

Charlie's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You must be joking."

"Why must I be joking?"

"You really don't know?" Charlie rubbed his hands over his face. "You may think you're simple, but let me tell you, you can be downright intimidating." Hermione began to protest, but stopped at his upraised hand. "You've had more life experience than most people twice your age. Don't deny it. At the same time, you still seem like one of my little brother's best friends; but I know there's more to you than what Ron mentions in his extremely infrequent letters. I know better than to believe all the stories I've heard over the years, but I'm fairly certain that most of what he's said is true."

Hermione dropped her face into her hands. "Oh, my. I hate to think of what he's been saying."

Charlie chuckled. "Oh, nothing too tragic, I promise. There is something, though. I always got the impression that Ron rather fancied you, but nothing's ever come of it, and now you're living in Romania on a dragon sanctuary. Aren't you worried about what that will do to a relationship?"

Hermione laughed heartily. "Not in the least. Don't get me wrong. I love Ron, but more like a brother than anything else."

Charlie's eyes lit up, but he strove to maintain his cool. He aimed for a nonchalant tone. "Really? I thought I'd heard..."

"About 'The Kiss'? Well, let me dispel any notions. Yes. Ron and I kissed just as we were going to face the Final Battle. That kiss was something I thought I'd been anticipating for at least two years. Maybe more." She shrugged. "But once the battle was over, and the adrenaline had dissipated, there was nothing there. He kissed me again after we'd visited Fred in St. Mungo's, and it felt... incestuous. We both broke out laughing and never looked back."

She looked him in the eye. "Ron and I know each other too well, if that makes any sense. We decided that we wouldn't pursue anything romantic, because our friendship is too precious. Not to mention that he and I are always disagreeing and fighting. We can't agree on the weather; how would we make a serious relationship work? For goodness' sake, the only thing we agreed on fully was that we shouldn't be ‘together' romantically."

Charlie nodded and they turned back to their dinners. Charlie held his tongue until he was fit to burst. "So, Ron's out of the running. Is there anyone else waiting for you back home? Do you need to send an owl to let them know you've arrived safely?"

"Oh! I probably should let Harry and Ron know I arrived in one piece. They'll let the rest of your family know, I'm sure. I try not to owl my parents too frequently, as owls constantly appearing in a Muggle neighbourhood garner excess attention. Do you know if there's a telephone anywhere nearby?" She glanced around, as if one would magically appear.

"The administrative office has a telephone. I'm not sure about rules of usage, since I generally use one of the sanctuary's owls."

"Hmm... I'll have to find out." She waved her fork dismissively. "Either way, I spoke with them before I left, and told them it might take a few days to get orientated and send word. I told them to assume ‘no news is good news' unless Harry calls them."

"Good idea. Now, hurry up! We've got dragons to visit!"

•◘•◘•◘•

 

The two made their way through the administrative and residential areas of the sanctuary. When they came up to the edge of the settlement, Charlie said, "Just follow this path, and it will lead you to the pens and paddocks where we keep the grounded dragons." They made their way through the fields, which were a short walk from the keepers' residences.

"What criteria do you use in determining which dragons to ground?" she asked.

"There are myriad reasons: if an animal has gotten too aggressive, or too close to Muggle settlements, we will usually ground them permanently. Other dragons are only grounded temporarily. All dragons are aggressive by nature to some extent, but there's aggressive, and then there's aggressive." Slight wrinkles brought about from years in the sun spread out from his eyes as he raised his eyebrows to add emphasis to the last word; they weren't unattractive.

"So if they pass some sort of threshold, they're grounded?"

Charlie nodded sharply. "Exactly. That's usually a decision that's made in consultation with the keepers and the medivets. The final decision comes from Alex and the chief medivet, Ognyan Petkov."

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped, almost tripping over her feet. "I haven't even met him yet, and he's my boss!"

"Hermione, you don't think I would let you make such a serious error in protocol on your first day, do you? He had a family emergency and won't be back until Monday. Otherwise, he would certainly be here to give you your orientation himself," Charlie said chidingly. Perhaps Ron was serious when he'd said she thought expulsion was worse than death.

"What a relief. My heart is pounding," she said, pressing her hand to her chest. The movement drew Charlie's eyes down from her face.

He swallowed roughly, but recovered quickly. "Right. Well. Let's get you to see a nesting female. The eggs could be hatching soon, and it's an amazing sight to see. Just remember, nesting mothers are extremely protective. You need to be completely silent. I want to sit downwind, and I don't want her to hear us."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It may be my first day here, Charlie, but I'm not completely ignorant of dragons. I helped Harry with the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, you know. I was there."

"Yes, I know. I'm sure you've supplemented your" - Charlie cleared his throat - "personal experiences with a good deal of book knowledge. Just know that a lot of the books in print are woefully outdated and short on facts. They don't reflect current practices."

"What?" She gawped at him.

He barely repressed a snigger at the look on her face. "Well, those of us who are actually experts in the field are usually busy, in the field. Who has time to write an updated book?"

Hermione's face was a combination of excitement and shock. "I think it's appalling that there are no up-to-date books on dragonology. Maybe we can remedy that? If you're willing to work with me, we could update one of the better old books. It wouldn't be as hard as starting from scratch."

Charlie pursed his lips. It was worth some thought, at least, and would give them time together. "We'll see."

"Okay. We'll talk later."

•◘•◘•◘•

 

As they approached the paddock, Charlie turned to her.

"We're downwind, but we still need to stay quiet and low," he murmured to her. "Straight ahead, at the foot of that mountain, is Saphyra's nest. She's a Swedish Short Snout. Keepers are monitoring their progress. We're reasonably certain it will be tonight, as the eggs have been shivering all day."

Hermione looked both excited and nervous. Charlie remembered Hermione had seen Norberta's hatching. He gave her a smile and a gentle reassuring touch to her shoulder. "That's right - you watched Norberta hatch, didn't you?" She nodded. "Well, you'll be pleased to know that wild hatchings with the mother present are much different than the one you witnessed. It's... special in a way that I just can't explain. You have to experience it for yourself. You'll see what I mean."

Charlie regarded the young witch beside him. He was excited to see her reaction to the hatching. His own first experience with hatching dragons was life-altering. While he knew that while all dragon hatchings are special, the Swedish Short Snout was definitely the best choice for her first time. They are the most nurturing of all breeds, and the love the mother broadcasts as her babes are hatching can be overwhelming.

•◘•◘•◘•

 

The pair sat on two large rocks at a respectable distance from the nest. Even this far away, the eggs were beginning to resonate audibly, and Saphyra began to trill. Charlie smiled affectionately at the dragon. With a final whisper, he told Hermione, "You're about to see why I stay a dragon keeper."

Saphyra's trilling continued, deepening, growing heavy with emotion. It was as if she were singing her babes into the world. As she sang, the deep resonance of the eggs hummed a counterbalance. As egg after egg broke, palpable waves of joy, love and devotion overwhelmed all the humans present.

Hermione gasped, and Charlie knew why.

The feeling was like home. It was love. It evoked all kinds of paternal thoughts and emotions at once, and it was pleasantly overwhelming. It was ever so much better than any Cheering Charm.

Charlie looked over at Hermione as the wave grew more intense. Her eyes were fixed on the scene before her and tears were streaming down her face, dripping off her chin unchecked. Ever so quietly, he leaned over and whispered, "Now you see why I call Mum a mother dragon? She thought it was a joke.... She didn't appreciate it at all until I brought her with me one year."

Hermione looked at him, smiled sweetly, and nodded. Their faces were mere inches apart, and each could feel the other's warm breath on their faces.

After a moment of stunned silence, Charlie came to. "Come on, let's get you back to your tent. It's been a very long day," he said, standing and offering her a hand up.

Taking his hand, she replied, "Thanks, Charlie. This has been amazing! It was a wonderful way to end my first day here."

The two never fully realised that they failed to drop their hands once she was standing.

Section One End Notes:

I chose the name "Saphyra" for the Swedish Short Snout dragon because they're (sapphire) blue. :)

The image of the dragon's eggs hatching came from a story titled "The Courtship of Hermione" by Dryad at Lumos (lumos.sycophanthex.com). Used by permission.

The name "Ognyan" is a Bulgarian name meaning "fire". Thought it was suitable for someone working with dragons.

From "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them": The Jarvey is found in Britain, Ireland, and North America. It resembles an overgrown ferret in most respects, except for the fact that it can talk. True conversation, however, is beyond the wit of the Jarvey, which tends to confine itself to short (and often rude) phrases in an almost constant stream. Jarveys live mostly below ground, where they pursue gnomes, though they will also eat moles, rats, and voles.

•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•

 

Section Two

While Hermione had always loved her books, as she grew up, she realised that her real love was the application of her knowledge. For her, books were the necessary first step in truly knowing something. First, you read, then you see, then you do. Watching those dragons hatching and the love of their mother singing them into the world was a life-changing experience; an experience that defied description. Had she only read about it, she never would have understood on such a visceral level.

She decided that she would try to update a dragon text, but that she would have to do it in a novel way. What method she would employ would have to be sussed out. She wanted to do the dragons justice. They deserved it, as did anyone who read the book.

•◘•◘•◘•

 

While she awaited her supervisor's return from his emergency leave, Hermione spent the week shadowing various keepers. She worked twice alongside Charlie and once with his friend, Jack. She could understand why the two were best mates. They were very similar, but different enough to not be boring.

Kind of like Harry and Ron. She sighed, missing her friends. She had sent them an owl, but, unsurprisingly, didn't get a reply. They had never been good at writing. She knew not to take it personally, and made a mental note to write them again, remembering how they loved to receive news, even if they were pants at actual correspondence.

At present, she was getting ready for bed. She'd just finished a nice soothing soak in the tub. After drying off, she went into the bedroom and pulled out her favorite nightshirt. It wasn't actually her nightshirt. It was an old Gryffindor Seeker's jersey, but it hadn't been Harry's. She had found it one day in an unused dresser at the Burrow. She'd never given much thought to it, as it was just stashed in a drawer, but now she realised it must have been Charlie's. The thought made her smile as she pulled it over her head. Feeling the supple fabric against her skin felt more intimate than when it had been a random leftover Weasley shirt.

When she'd thought that it had been a random Weasley shirt, there were no thoughts of the previous owner. Now she couldn't stop thinking of him. It made her wonder... how had the shirt fit him when he was in school? Did it stretch across his broad shoulders and chest, or did it fit him perfectly? Had anyone ever caressed him through the shirt? What did it smell like when he was all sweaty?

Her ponderings continued, and a dull ache began in her lower belly. She lay down on the bed, grasping her breasts through Charlie's shirt, lightly pinching her nipples. After a few moments, one hand trailed down, drawing up the hem of the shirt. Sliding past the elastic barrier of her knickers, she began teasing her slit, gently stroking, increasing the warm wetness of her desire.

Hermione's middle finger circled around her clit, brushing it, flicking it, and her breathing changed. As she continued teasing herself, she began to wonder how it would feel if it were Charlie's fingers instead of hers. The scruff of his light beard against her inner thighs, his tongue softly and gently working her to release...

That thought simultaneously surprised and inflamed her, and the next time her finger circled her clit, her back arched. She began rubbing the little bundle of nerves feverishly, still thinking of Charlie. Her orgasm overtook her. Shuddering, she rolled on her side, trying not to over-think why she'd reacted the way she had.

She failed.

Now that he'd entered the realm of her fantasies, she worried that she wouldn't be able to exorcise him. Or worse, that she wouldn't want to. She'd pined after Ron for so long, to have nothing come of it. The thought of pining after another Weasley to no end wasn't a pleasant one.

She rolled over and drifted off to a fitful slumber.

The next morning, a knock at the door of her tent came at precisely the same time it had come every day that week. She opened her door to the burly man who was, of late, featuring prominently in her life - and her fantasies. And then she blushed. Thankfully, Charlie seemed none the wiser.

"Good morning, Charlie. Ready for our run?" She asked, feeling a mite uncomfortable facing him after fantasising about him just the night before.

Charlie grinned. It was nice to have someone at the sanctuary that enjoyed running as much as he did, and Hermione was more than able to keep up with him. "You bet! Twice around the compound, and then a shower and breakfast?" Charlie asked, stretching his legs.

Hermione's blush deepened at the mention of a shower and the images that flashed through her mind, but she shook it off. "Let's go!"

The two took off at a brisk pace and after about forty-five minutes, arrived back in front of their tents, sweaty, bending over with their hands braced on their knees, trying to catch their breath.

Hermione turned her head towards Charlie. "A shower and breakfast, then?"

Charlie's mischievous grin was worrisome. "Okay," Charlie replied, playfully trying to follow Hermione into her tent for a shared shower. She pushed at his chest, laughing.

"Separate showers, and then breakfast, Charlie."

"Well that's no fun... although you're cute when you blush," he said playfully waggling his eyebrows. Still smirking, he started to back away from her, reaching over his head to grab a fistful of his sweaty shirt and pulling it off, revealing several tattoos while using the dry edges of the shirt to dry his face. "See you in half an hour - don't be late," he said, turning around to go the rest of the way to his tent.

The view rendered her speechless. It wasn't the first time she had seen Charlie shirtless; she'd spent a lot of time at the Burrow and had had plenty of opportunities to see his tattoos over the years. But back then, he was Ron's dashing older brother - his unattainable state making it perfectly safe to occasionally lust after him. Now he was Charlie. Hermione's throat had never felt so dry. Before she could respond coherently to his taunt, he jogged across the path to his own tent, chuckling heartily.

Half an hour later found a still-amused Charlie knocking on Hermione's door to check if she was ready. She came to the door fully dressed and wrangling her hair into a functional knot at the back of her head. Completing this task, she speared her hands on her hips with a teasing smirk on her pretty face.

"Charlie Weasley, you are absolutely incorrigible."

Charlie ducked his head and looked at her through his eyelashes with a coy grin on his face. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Hermione laughed and cuffed him on the ear playfully. "Sure. You keep telling yourself that, Charlie Weasley. I know someone trained Fred and George to be the way they are, and it certainly wasn't Percy."

"Oi! That's patently unfair!"

"Patently?"

"Yes, patently. And you" - he poked her in the shoulder, right above her breast - "have no proof that I influenced those two in their mischievous ways."

"Hm. I believe that I have sufficient circumstantial evidence to support my claim. Furthermore, I notice that you're not refuting the claim; you only just cited lack of hard evidence." She folded her arms across her chest and smirked smugly.

Charlie laughed a rich, deep laugh. "I believe the Americans have a saying that is particularly useful in times like this."

"Americans? When did Charlie Weasley begin quoting Americans?"

"Well, my best mate here is a Yank. He's bound to have an influence on me."

"Indeed. So, what is this terribly apropos saying you wish to share?" She tapped her foot in a mockery of impatience.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself."

Hermione blustered. "Why... you... that's a Muggle saying!"

"Mm. Yes, I believe you are correct. An American Muggle saying, to be precise. You still can't force me to admit to anything."

"Cheeky."

"Immensely. Shall we go to breakfast before my stomach starts digesting itself? I'm as hungry as a Hippogriff," he said, rubbing his muscled belly. He heard her grumbling something about Weasley stomachs and appetites, but made no comment in return. He was happy, however, when she started on the path to the canteen.

When they got there, Charlie spotted Hermione's supervisor sitting at a table alone. "Hermione, your boss is back from his leave. Come on, I'll introduce you."

"Good morning, Ognyan. Good to see you back. May I introduce your new medivet trainee, Hermione Granger? Hermione, this is Ognyan Petkov."

Petkov stood to greet Hermione and shook her hand. "Good morning, Miss Granger. I am sorry I was unable to greet you upon your arrival. I trust Charlie and the rest of the staff have taken good care of you?"

"Good morning, sir. I'm so pleased to meet you; and yes, they've all been extremely gracious," she said, fidgeting, gnawing on her lower lip.

"Glad to hear it," he said with a genuine smile.

The three chatted amicably over a hearty breakfast, discussing what Hermione had been able to do in his absence. When they were finished, Ognyan addressed Hermione. "Let's go to my office, so we can discuss procedures and protocols and what I expect you to cover while you're here."

Hermione smiled and turned to Charlie. "I'll see you later, then. Have a good day."

Charlie smiled at her formality, but decided not to tease her in front of her new boss. "You too."

Hermione and Ognyan made their way across the quad to the main administration building, where he efficiently explained his expectations of his trainees. Hermione was excited about the demanding programme.

•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•

 

Section Three

After a few weeks, Hermione settled in to the sanctuary, getting to know the rhythm of the work and her fellow workers.

There was always one full-fledged medivet on duty from seven o'clock in the morning to eleven o'clock in the evening. The overnight shift was covered by a rotating on-call schedule. When Hermione was on duty, there was always a senior medivet assigned to supervise her work. At the end of her first six weeks at the sanctuary, she was working alongside Ognyan one sunny morning.

"Hermione, I'm truly impressed with how well you've been able to apply what you've learned to real-life situations. Your instincts were good to begin with, and as you learn, they are getting better. You're already learning to read situations accurately, and your reaction times have improved," Ognyan praised.

"Normally, when we've had trainees at the sanctuary, the keepers are reluctant to work with them, and the medivets complain that they slow them down. They insist that a supervisor pair with the trainee for the duration of their six-month training period. Alex just told me that the keepers no longer require you to have a supervisor alongside when you work. We still have to have someone assigned to supervise you, but this means whoever your supervisor of the day is just has to be available if something happens beyond your ability. You've earned their respect. That's no small feat."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione replied, beaming with pride at the acknowledgement of work well done. Almost as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded. "But it probably helps that I'm Charlie's friend," she started, uncomfortable. "He opened some doors, to be sure. I'm not normally accepted quickly into a new group of friends. I've been told I can be bossy, and one of my best friends once described me as ‘scary'."

His eyes bore into hers. "First of all, don't underestimate yourself in terms of your healing skills. I've seen you work. What you did for that dragonet that was injured by its nestmate was nothing short of miraculous. Most medivets - even well-trained medivets - probably would've thought it was a lost cause and euthanized the poor thing, but you knew what to do. You can't teach instincts like that. Jack made sure to relay what you did, and you've earned the keepers' trust, and in a place like this, that helps build bridges faster than anything else. As far as I'm concerned, I already trust you at least as much as I would any new intern who'd completed their training. Besides, since we're all away from our family, we've learned to stick together. Unless someone's absolutely insufferable, they're a welcome addition to our motley crew. Second of all, what do you mean, 'scary'?"

Hermione paused for the briefest of moments, thinking of her former Potions professor and the adjective he used most frequently when addressing her. Shaking herself from her reverie, she said, "Well, in fairness, I was very angry with him at the time, and he wasn't happy about being at the wrong end of my wand. Evidently, when I'm angry, I can be a bit... intimidating." She smiled ruefully.

Ognyan laughed. "Well, I've only known you a few weeks, but from what I've seen of your wand skills and what I've heard of your life up till now, I can only imagine that's a place I never want to be. Come on, it's time to revise and brew some of the healing potions we can use on the dragons."

The two worked quietly and efficiently to complete the potions needed to restock the stores. When they were done, it was almost four o'clock, but the lab still needed to be cleaned.

"Hermione, why don't you go on and take an early afternoon? It's Friday, after all."

"But we still need to -"

"Go on, don't worry. I've got this covered, and like I said, it's Friday. I know you're all going to the pub. Go have fun. Let your weekend start early. That's an order," Ognyan said, interrupting her protest.

"Yes, sir," she said, smiling.

She went back to her tent to relax a bit before getting ready. Going to the local pub on Friday nights had become a bit of a routine for their group of friends, and when she had the weekend off, it was especially nice. A short kip would probably not go amiss, since she'd got up early for her run with Charlie and had been brewing all day. If they stayed out as late as they usually did, she didn't want to be sleeping in her drink.

Due to the relatively short time allowed, she had to choose between a long soak in the tub and a hot shower with a nap. Choosing the nap over the soak, she showered and then changed into her favourite old shirt and a pair of knickers.

What she had intended to be a half hour nap ended up going well over an hour, and she was awoken by someone pounding on her door. She bolted awake and ran to answer the door, grabbing her trousers on the way, her hazy mind thinking there was some kind of emergency.

When Hermione flung the door open, trousers in hand, dressed only in an old Gryffindor Quidditch jersey - his old Seeker jersey, to be exact - his breath hitched. Although the jersey covered her, her creamy white legs were completely bare. He'd had many hours of fun in that shirt... sweaty fun. Seeing her in it made him think about the fact that this shirt - his shirt - that he'd worn countless times, was now caressing her obviously naked breasts... and in that moment, he realised that he wanted nothing more than a few additional hours of sweaty fun.

Hermione looked at him with confusion and concern on her lovely face. "What's wrong?"

"That's... my shirt, isn't it?" Charlie asked, voice pitched higher than his normal baritone, inwardly cursing himself for being so obtuse.

Hermione glanced down, then looked back up to his face. "Oh, I'm sorry. It probably is. I've had it for so very long. I hope you don't mind. I stayed over at the Burrow one night, and had forgotten my pyjamas. I rummaged around and found this in a drawer. It was so comfortable, and your mum said it would be okay...." she said, trailing off as she worried the hem of the garment.

As she rambled, he regained his composure and gave her a sexy grin. "I don't mind at all, pet. In fact, I don't think that shirt ever looked better."

It took Hermione a moment to process his statement. When she did, she blushed, but decided to focus on her original question. "There's no emergency? You were pounding on my door as if something dire were happening. Do you need me for something?"

"Oh, I was just trying to get your attention. We're all about to head over to the pub in a few, and we normally go over together. But if you'd like to stay in..." He winked, moving to step across her threshold.

"Charlie!" Hermione laughed, hitting him lightly in the chest. "You're incorrigible."

He grinned. "Yeah, I suppose I am."

"Well, I'm going to have to maintain that I hold you responsible for the twins."

He spluttered in response. "I..."

"Your look of consternation notwithstanding, I'm going to run inside and get changed."

"Oh, don't change on my account, love," he said with a smirk.

"And that's why I'm holding you responsible. Have a seat, Charlie. I'll be quick."

Hermione changed into a blue skirt that fell a few inches above her knees and paired it with a soft pink button-up blouse. She brushed out her hair, leaving her curls wild, and applied a touch of mascara.

Walking into the lounge, she spotted her escort. "All ready. Let's go."

Charlie looked up from the book he'd picked up and dropped it on the table beside him, standing as he did so. "You look lovely."

Hermione glanced down. "Thank you. It's nice to get to dress up once in a while."

"You know you'll be fighting the blokes off, showing up like that, don't you?"

"Don't be silly, Charlie. Come on, let's go."

•◘•◘•◘•

 

By the time they arrived at the quad, the rest of their group had already gone on ahead to the pub, so Hermione and Charlie Apparated nearby. When they entered the dark, ancient pub, their boisterous crowd of friends called them over to the far end of the bar, where they had been able to secure more than enough seating for their large group. Instinctively, Charlie grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her along. When they arrived at the table, Jack looked at their linked hands pointedly.

"Charlie! Hermione! We were wondering when you were planning on gracing us with your presence!"

Charlie grinned. "Sorry, mates. It was my fault."

Hermione's head jerked in his direction. "What?" she hissed under her breath.

Charlie turned to her, moving close so he could whisper in her ear. "Eh, don't worry. I know you'd be embarrassed if they knew you'd overslept, and I couldn't be arsed what they think of me." His hot breath puffed against her cheek with every word spoken and she shivered. Charlie pulled back with the slightest of satisfied smirks on his face.

Instead of teasing her further, he indicated to the bartender that they would like two glasses of Firewhisky.

Jack glanced at them. "You know you are both two rounds behind. You need to catch up!" He turned to the bartender to order a second round for the duo.

Charlie and Hermione raised their glasses to each other and called out "Cheers!"

Jack pressed the second round in their hands, saying, "Here's mud in yer eye!"

Hermione pulled a sour face at the awful toast, but downed the shot and winced with a shiver. Jack pressed their second round into their hands. "Come on, now! You've got to catch up!"

Hermione groaned. "Ugh. I don't even like Firewhisky!"

"Sure you do! Everyone likes Firewhisky. Bottoms up!"

"I don't like you very much, Jack," she said, pulling a guffaw from the burly American.

"Well, you may not like Firewhisky, but it's efficient. But I really don't believe you don't like me."

"Right now, that could be debatable."

In reply, he gave Hermione a winsome smile that drew a smile from her almost against her will.

"Prat," she said affectionately while wrinkling her nose.

"Oooh, I love it when you speak British to me," he said with a wink, drawing laughter from the small group of Brits in attendance.

The evening progressed from the drinking phase into the dancing phase. The Firewhisky had been more than effective at reducing or eliminating their inhibitions.

One of Hermione's favourite Weird Sisters' songs came on, and she jumped up, grabbing the nearest wizard in her vicinity - Charlie - and started to dance. This move was more than a little surprising, as in the weeks since she had arrived in Romania, she'd never intimated that she liked to dance.

And it was fairly obvious that she liked to dance a lot.

After the fast song was over, a slower song came on, and Charlie stepped closer, drawing Hermione to his chest. His hands rested on her hips, and her hands twined around his neck.

"Mmmm. This is nice."

"Mmhmmm."

They rocked their way around the small dance floor, oblivious to their co-workers' approving smiles. Jack and some of their other friends made sure the song selections stayed on the slow side, deciding to interfere a bit in the interest of encouraging the two towards deepening their relationship.

As the night wore on, Hermione's early shots of Firewhisky wore off. She was surprised, pleased, and nervous about the way she was dancing with Charlie - and had been dancing with him all evening. But she knew he hadn't been nearly as inebriated as she'd been, so she decided to throw caution to the wind.

She had taken a chance in coming to Romania. She knew how hard it was for a female medivet to catch a break in such a male-dominated field. It was time to be young and seize the day. Being cautious and sensible hadn't gotten her anywhere in her personal or professional life. She was truly happiest when she grabbed the dragon by the tail, as it were, and she made the somewhat impulsive decision to see where this relationship could go whilst dancing in a pub in Romania.

Hermione knew she was attracted to him. His broad shoulders that seemed even broader than when she first met him; his thick legs and narrow waist, his strong arms, his gorgeous cornflower blue eyes, and his wickedly sinful lips. He was the shortest of all the Weasley brothers, but he was still much taller than her.

She was fairly certain he was also attracted to her. He constantly flirted with her, but didn't seem like he was just on the pull. They had the most amazing discussions about all sorts of topics, not only limited to their careers. Although the sanctuary was close to a wizarding village, over the years, he had taken advantage of the cities, like nearby Bucharest and Sofia, in Bulgaria. His knowledge of Muggles had far surpassed that of his brothers or his father, which only broadened the base of topics they could discuss.

Another good sign that he was attracted to her was the way his one hand was splayed on her hip - bordering on improper - and the other gently caressed her back, holding her very close to him. The movement of their feet could barely be classified as 'dancing'.

As she enjoyed his lazy perusal of her body, she stroked one hand across his shoulder where she knew there was a tattoo of a Welsh Green - the only breed native to Britain - and her other hand alternately stroked his neck and played with his longish hair, which he had left loose and unbound.

Around ten o'clock, she lifted her head from his chest, resting her chin on his breastbone. "Charlie?"

"Mmm?"

"Can we go back? I'm really tired."

"Tired, are you?" he asked lazily. "Aren't you the one who got an hour-long nap?"

"Hm. Yes, but I'm still tired. It's more like I'd rather just be home on my couch having a quiet conversation and a cup of tea. I'm not much in the mood for drinking and dancing anymore."

His hands tightened their grip for a moment. "All right. Let's say good night and we can be on our way."

"Thanks, Charlie," she said with a grateful grin.

Charlie turned to the assembled group, saying, "Good night, all! It's been a long day, so we're going to make it an early evening this week."

The wizards made various bawdy comments. The loudest was Jack. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, mate!" he said, toasting the couple with another shot of Firewhisky.

At Jack's comment, Hermione blushed furiously. Charlie flashed a rude hand gesture, saying, "Ah, shove it, you tosser!" He grabbed Hermione's hand and walked out of the pub, laughing.

"Charlie! They're all thinking -"

"No, they're really not. They know me better, and what's more, they know you better. They're just taking the piss. Remember - they're worse than Jarveys, they are. What's done is done. Come on, now. Let's just go enjoy the rest of the evening."

Wishing to avoid conflict, Hermione acquiesced, although she was still chewing on her lower lip, anxious about her co-workers' opinions of her, their jeering putting her on edge, but also not wanting to overreact. She really just wanted to have a quiet evening with Charlie. "Let's go."

They Apparated back to the sanctuary and walked to their tents. Charlie turned to her. "Your place or mine?"

She laughed, hitting his arm. "Charlie!"

"What? It's a totally innocent question. You wanted to have tea, right? We can't go to the canteen for their tea. I have everything needed for a nice cuppa, but you may want to be in your own quarters."

Hermione looked at him sceptically. "Innocent, my arse. You're a lot of things, but innocent is hardly one of them."

His eyes widened in mock offence. "Well, I never..."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you have," she said, flouncing off into her tent.

Charlie laughed at her cliché attempt at humour and followed her in.

Hermione made two mugs of tea and prepared a plate of biscuits. When she returned to the lounge, she sat next to Charlie on the couch. She plucked a chocolate digestive from the plate and leaned back to settle into the cushy seat.

"Mmmm. This is much better. I wasn't up to the noise of the pub tonight. Thanks for coming back with me."

"My pleasure. I'd rather be here with you, anyway," he said, smiling warmly at her.

"Really?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised in query.

"Of course. You couldn't tell? Hermione, I'm a simple man. I'm a direct man. I believe life is too short to wait for something good to happen by accident. I believe you make your own luck, and so, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I like you... a lot. I like spending time with you, I like our discussions, I like running with you." He paused to rub a hand over his face. "Hell, I even like arguing with you."

Hermione gaped at him. "You..."

Charlie grinned cheekily. "I fancy you, Hermione Granger. Care to give us a shot?"

"Oh... well... I suppose that is the direct approach..." Hermione said with a nervous chuckle.

"Care to give me a direct answer?"

"Sorry! It's just... I'm not accustomed to... never mind. My answer is yes."

"Yes?" he asked, a happy grin on his handsome face.

"Yes!"

Charlie let out a whoop of joy and embraced her. He stood up with her still in his arms and twirled her around the room. He let her down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss started gently, but quickly intensified. He increased the pressure, deepening the kiss. He tapped his tongue at the seam of her lips, and she opened to him. He sensuously twined his tongue with hers, humming with delight.

She slid her hands onto his broad chest, then moved one hand up and over his shoulder to run her fingers through his hair. She revelled in the shiver she elicited from him.

After several minutes of exquisite snogging, they pulled back, panting. Charlie bent, rested his forehead on Hermione's, looking her directly in the eye.

"Wow."

"Absolutely."

Charlie smiled. "I think I'd like to do that again. Often."

Hermione returned his grin with a broad smile of her own. "Me too."

She reached up to stand on her toes to press her lips to his, opening her mouth a fraction and sliding her tongue against his lips, which he immediately opened, enjoying allowing her to control the tender kiss; thrilled and revelling in the fact that she'd chosen to kiss him. She pulled away from his mouth and started peppering kisses on his jaw, trailing down his neck. Then she nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck.

Charlie slid his hand into her curtain of hair, and then used his grip to gently pull her head back, exposing her neck. He kissed down to the hollow of her neck, caressing her breast with his other hand while he suckled the tender spot behind her ear. When he lightly rolled her nipple between his fingers, he drew a moan from her and caused her knees to buckle.

"Charlie, wait..."

Charlie groaned. "I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"No. Don't apologise," she said, panting. "It's just... I haven't..."

"It's okay. It's been kind of a long time for me, too," he said with a shrug, his eyes still hazy with unfulfilled lust.

Hermione blushed. "It's not that it's been a long time. I've never..."

Charlie pulled back to look at her face, but her chin was tucked tightly to her chest. So he gently lifted her chin with a finger. "Never?" He knew she had worked with unicorns in the past, but he'd figured she'd surely been with someone since then!

She shook her head and blushed.

"Hey. That is nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you hear me?" In fact, he kind of liked the idea of being her first - and only.

She nodded her head, but only just barely, not really convinced.

"We'll just go slow. I care about you, and I'm in this for the long haul. You're worth so much more to me than that."

"Charlie, wait. You don't have to -" She bit her lip, worrying about how to say what she wanted to say. She took a deep breath to steel her nerves. "You don't have to wait. I understand that guys don't really want to sign up for a relationship with the twenty-five-year-old virgin. It's off-putting. I mean, first of all, there's the questions: What's wrong with her?, Why hasn't she...?, Is she crazy? Frigid? Disfigured? I've heard them all, I think."

Each word that spilled from her lips infuriated him. "All right, so you say these are the questions. Do you want to know what my question is?"

She looked at him, her expression guarded, waiting for the rejection and humiliation she'd been anticipating. The rejection she'd known from the few wizards she'd dated previously, who assumed there was something wrong with her.

He cupped her face between his strong, callused hands. "My question is: What the hell is wrong with those wizards? I also have a follow-up question: What is the state of the wizarding world if a man can't keep it in his pants long enough to build a relationship? There are probably some more questions, but here's the bottom line: I didn't think I could respect you more than I already did, but somehow, it's happened. I don't just want to throw a leg over, Hermione. I want to see if we can build something real together. I'm not just looking to grab the Snitch in a single game; I'm looking to win the World Cup. And if you're not following the sports analogy, you're the World Cup."

"Charlie..."

"Wait. I'm not quite done. I'm also guessing that you dated guys your own age; maybe guys who weren't so understanding or appreciative about the amount of time and dedication it takes to become a large-creature medivet, or maybe they thought it was a waste of your time since you wouldn't be able to work at such a job after you have kids. Am I close?"

She sighed. "Exactly so. Terry - Terry Boot, that is - he gave the 'time' argument, and Ernie Macmillan didn't understand pursuing a career I wouldn't be able to pursue once 'we' had children. The fact that their jobs were at least as demanding - and dangerous - as mine seemed to mean nothing to them. Why is it that a wizard will tell you that he adores your mind and your quick wit, but that he expects you to hang it on a wall once you marry so you can become a housewitch and start making babies as soon as the honeymoon is over?"

"It's hard for many wizards to accept that their family isn't 'enough' for his witch. In fact, a lot of wizards look down on a man whose wife still works. There's an unspoken implication that he's unable to take proper care of her; that he's financially inadequate. I'm not saying it's right, but that's where it stems from. You and I are nowhere near the point in our relationship where I would normally discuss this, but for the record, dragon keepers are more than able to support a wife financially - we are paid handsomely for the dangerous job we do - but I believe a witch has the right to decide whether or not she should work. I also happen to know that the sanctuary has a liberal maternity policy. Alex knows that finding talented staff members is too difficult to be hung up on gender roles. He'd rather hire a nanny-elf than send you packing because you started a family. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done it."

Hermione's eyes were shining with joy, and she hugged him tightly. Sometimes words were insufficient, and having learnt a great deal about magical creatures, she'd given up notions of elf slavery - although she had lobbied for - and won - a guarantee of their ethical treatment from the Wizengamot. It was nicknamed T.E.B.O.R. - the Elfish Bill of Rights. When the time came, she would accept a nanny-elf, because she knew she would treat it well.

"Charlie, aren't we putting the carriage before the Thestral a bit?"

His brow wrinkled. "What do you mean?"

Looking up into his face, she replied, "Well, we've barely even kissed, and we're already talking about childcare options." She raised her eyebrows and laughed softly.

Charlie joined in her laughter. "I suppose you're right, but when I'm with you, I see my future. That's never happened to me before. I've always enjoyed the life of a carefree bachelor. I know it's early to be making declarations, but that's where I'm at. I don't want you to have to guess about my feelings or my intentions."

Hermione hugged him tightly. After a moment, she drew back slightly, looking into his face. "I don't want you to guess about my feelings or intentions, either. I'm with you, and I want to see where we can go - together. I'm not sure why you haven't found anyone before now, but I'm thanking every deity imaginable that you're still single, because that gives me the opportunity to be with you."

He smiled and then kissed her again. This kiss was full of hope and promises. When they pulled apart, he held her close, pressing her ear to his heart and tucking her head under his chin. He asked her the question that had been plaguing him for the past two weeks. "What do you plan to do when your training is complete?"

Not moving from her cosy space nestled against him, she answered, "I've decided that I want to work with dragons. Being here has been the most incredible experience. I don't think I ever want to leave. When my rotation is complete, I'm hoping that Ognyan will offer me an apprenticeship and eventually a permanent position."

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

"What... did you think I was looking forward to leaving?"

"This has all happened so quickly; I was afraid to hope for too much."

"Of course, there's also the opportunity to update the literature on dragonology."

She felt as much as heard his laughter. "That's my girl!"

•◘•◘•◘•

 

The next morning, Charlie came knocking as usual. Hermione answered the door in her running gear and a bright smile. "Good morning!"

Charlie stepped forward to embrace her tightly. "Good morning." The kiss he gave her was tender, his tongue gaining entry and roaming her mouth, inciting pleasure. The soft moan she produced answered his own needy whinge.

"Cor, Hermione, I don't think I can keep my hands off you. How long of a courtship were you planning on?"

Hermione laughed as she pulled away. "Come on, Charlie, let's go. The trails won't run themselves." She grabbed his hand and started to drag him onto their running path.

Charlie followed, grumbling until he fell into a rhythm, and the two set a fast pace.

They completed their circuits and after showering, they made their way to the canteen for breakfast. Jack was already there. Upon their entrance, he waved to them, inviting them to sit with him. They collected plates of steaming eggs with fried tomatoes, bacon, and toast and then walked over to sit with him.

He considered the two closely. "You were holding hands when you came in," he accused, eyes narrowed.

"Yes, we were."

He blinked at Hermione. He'd been halfway expecting them to deny it for some reason. "So, what... are you two together now?"

"Yeah," Charlie said with a grin.

He glanced at Charlie. "Good for you, my friend!" Then, he turned to Hermione. "Sorry to hear it, Sweets. Are you sure you want to be saddled with this lunk?" he asked, indicating Charlie with his thumb.

"Absolutely," she replied with a smile.

•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•

 

Section Four

Hermione worked studiously towards the completion of her training. By the end of her three month rotation, she and Charlie had spent every free evening together - either alone, or with Jack or at the pub with all their friends.

When they were alone, they frequently spent the evening reading or discussing procedures and policies regarding dragon treatment. Sometimes, they even discussed other magical creatures. Above all else, they enjoyed spending time together. The nature of their jobs forced them to find time to be together, because they were sometimes scheduled on opposing shifts. These days were the hardest.

One evening, after almost a week of barely having time to eat one meal together per day, Charlie was at the end of his tether, and grumpier than a nesting Horntail. Jack had had enough. "You need to go see her, man."

"What?

"Go. Spend an hour - hell, spend three hours - just get away from us with your foul mood. We all know you miss her; just go."

Charlie's grin lit up his face. "Really? You don't mind?"

"Nah. The dragons're all asleep. If anything goes wrong, her tent's close enough. You'll hear if you're needed. Take off."

"Thanks!" Charlie called over his shoulder as he ran to his tent quickly before going to Hermione's tent.

•◘•◘•◘•

 

Hermione hadn't been expecting anyone, so the knock on her tent flap piqued her curiosity. When she opened it, her surprise was written on her face when she saw her burly dragon keeper lounging against the doorframe.

"Surprised to see me, love?"

"Yes! Pleasantly surprised, but yes. Come in!" She hugged him tight as soon as the flap had closed. When they stepped apart, they went to the lounge and sat on the settee together. "How did you manage this? Did you bunk off?"

"I didn't have to. Evidently, I've been increasingly miserable to be around." Charlie rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Since the dragons settled down early tonight, they decided they only need two keepers this evening."

"That's so sweet of them. I've been pretty miserable, too."

"Yeah?" He glanced at her sideways, as if he'd hoped to hear something like that.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I don't like spending so much time apart, love." He turned towards her. "It's too bloody hard."

"Well, it's not as if we have a choice, is it?" She shrugged helplessly. What else could they do?

"We don't have a choice about work schedules, no. But we can figure out other ways."

Hermione looked at him, confused. "Like...?"

Charlie dropped the short distance to his knees before her. "Hermione, this probably isn't anyone's dream proposal, but, I figure we're not like most couples. You and I have taken a long time to get to where we are, and it was quite the unlikely journey. Why not have an unlikely proposal?

"Ever since the very first time I met you, you impressed me. You were just a wee thing, but so strong. You earned my respect immediately, and when I saw you dealing with Ron, Harry, the twins and my parents, that respect only grew. Spending these last few months together has been a gift from the heavens, and I don't want to give you back. I want to keep you for my own. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" He opened the ring box he'd had hidden in his hand to reveal a beautiful ring of platinum and gold in a dragon pattern.

"I'm sorry it's not a flashy diamond, but I figured that since in our line of work, we aren't permitted to wear gems, you could wear this." He looked up at her, slightly unsure of his choice of ring. When their eyes met, he saw that hers were shiny with tears, and the grin on her face was spectacular.

"Charlie, it's beautiful - you're so thoughtful - I love it!" She grabbed two handfuls of hair and pulled him in for a searing kiss. She pulled back to say, "And I love you!" and then she kissed him again.

After a few moments, the kiss became more intimate; Charlie came up off his knees to sit on the settee with her once more, and she twisted so her chest pressed against his. She ran her hands through his hair, and he held her close. One hand slowly caressed down her back, coming to rest on her arse, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, pulling a groan from both of them.

"So, is that a yes?"

"You had better believe it!" She kissed him again, and he placed the ring on her finger.

Charlie groaned again as he pulled away from her. "Love, please understand where I'm coming from when I say, this engagement will be a short one."

Hermione blushed when she realised his aroused state. "Oh, yes, my love, as soon as my training is complete. Ognyan has already promised that he'll offer me the internship once I'm done, so I know I have a place here. Seems the only thing left to do is decide where and when the wedding will be."

Charlie thought for a moment. "Do you want to go back to Britain for the wedding, or do you want to have it here?"

"Well, if we go back to Britain, your mum will make a huge fuss. You know she'll be worse than she was for Bill and Fleur's wedding."

Charlie shuddered at the thought. The planning for Bill's wedding had been... chaotic to say the least. "Yeah. She actually likes you."

"Charlie!" Hermione admonished.

"You know it's true. She will be over the moon to hear that you'll finally be a Weasley. Maybe not with the son she'd pictured, but I think she'll come around." And he was very glad Ron and Hermione had never worked out, because he would have lost the chance for this - them.

"Oh... my." Hermione winced as eight-year-old memories surfaced. "You're exactly right. She'll be intolerable! What do you think about surprising them instead?"

"Surprise? How?"

"Maybe we can invite your family to come here for a celebration at the end of my traineeship. My excuse for not having the party at the Burrow is that we want the staff here to be part of it. We'll arrange the whole thing in advance and have them Portkey in. When they get here, it'll be our wedding. A total surprise."

"I love that idea. You are quite the brilliant witch."

She smirked. "You know, I've been told that before, but it sounds best coming from you."

He smiled at her. "If we're going to have this wedding when your training is over, we have less than one month to plan."

"That's plenty of time. I just have to clear it with Ognyan and Alex, set the date, and arrange for an official. Then we just need to invite your family and arrange the Portkey." She stopped suddenly. "Do you know if Muggles can take Portkeys?" How had she forgotten her parents?

"I'm honestly not sure, love. I think your magic attaches you to the Portkey, so I would be surprised if they could. Too bad there's not an International Floo nearby. I know Muggles can travel by Floo. They usually don't like it, but it's possible. Maybe they can take one of those Muggle superbrooms and someone could meet them at the station...."

"Airport," Hermione corrected automatically. It was something to check on.

"Right. Airport. We could send Jack - he's Muggle-born, too, so he can meet them at the airport and Apparate them here. You'll just have to get them to agree to come.

"Good idea."

They settled back into the settee and held each other a while longer, thinking about their future.

•◘•◘•◘•

 

When Charlie showed up for their run the next morning, she wasn't quite so calm.

"Oh my God! I have less than a month to plan a wedding!"

Charlie stared at her, bemused. "It's okay. We can do this. You like lists. Let's make a list of what needs to be done, and then we can split the tasks between us. We can probably even get Jack, Ognyan and Alex to help us. Oh - their wives would probably love to help! They don't get to do a lot of girly stuff!"

Now, Hermione was pacing. "That's a great idea. I'll talk to them later. Let's get that list started." She Summoned her steno pad and biro - having all but abandoned cumbersome parchments and quills for the ease of Muggle advancements when possible.

"Let's see... first thing is to set the date. We need to speak with Alex about that and make sure the canteen can be used for the wedding. Next, owl your family to invite them. Then, call my parents to invite them. Once that's all done, we need to arrange a Portkey. Do we do that through the Romanian Ministry or the British Ministry?" She tore her eyes away from her notes to look at her fiancé.

"We go to the Romanian Ministry to arrange the Portkey approval on this end, and then they will contact the British Ministry, who will create it, since their ultimate departure and arrival are both on British soil," Charlie explained.

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense. Since you seem to know more about it, do you want to take care of that? We'll need to make a trip to Sofia anyway to make the necessary purchases - wedding robes and rings and such."

"Sure. When's your next day off?"

"Let me see... Thursday."

"Perfect! That's my next day off, as well. It's a date." Charlie grinned, delight racing through him. Merlin, he was getting married!

"Now that I have some of the planning done, I think I can focus on a run. Let's go!"

After their run and separate showers, they headed to breakfast. As usual, Jack was waiting for them. They prepared their plates - porridge with fruit and bangers on the side - and sat with him.

•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•◘•

 

Section Four

In short order, owls were sent, and arrangements for Hermione's parents were made. The entire sanctuary happily assisted in planning the day. Without their help, the wedding surely would not have happened in three months, let alone three weeks.

The help of their friends meant that Charlie and Hermione were able to enjoy their engagement. They maintained their schedule of running every morning and having breakfast with Jack in the canteen as often as possible. The Thursday after they got engaged, they made a trip to Bucharest, where Charlie went to the Romanian Ministry of Magic to arrange the Portkey, and Hermione went shopping for robes at Nunta Roba in the Magic Magazin-the Romanian version of Diagon Alley.

Walking into the shop, Hermione realised that she hadn't learned a word of Romanian. The shop assistant approached her, and she panicked. "Do you speak English?" she blurted.

The girl looked at her. "A leetle beet."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "I need wedding robes, and I'm getting married in three weeks. Do you have anything that's ready to wear?"

The girl blinked at her. "More... slower, please?"

Hermione gave her a strained smile. "I'm sorry. My wedding is in three weeks."

The girl's eyes opened wide. "Trei? Trei... eh... three weeks?"

Hermione nodded, relieved that the girl spoke even rudimentary English. "Yes. Three weeks. Wedding robes?" she asked, grasping at a nearby gown and trying to mime what she needed.

The girl understood and directed Hermione to a section of gowns at the rear of the shop that seemed to be her size. She flitted through each of them, damning herself for having eschewed all forms of fashion advice over the years. She had no idea how to choose a wedding gown, and she only had a few hours to do it in.

The girl began holding up various robes for Hermione to examine. Through facial expressions and pantomime, Hermione was able to convey most of what she wanted - simple, elegant but not fancy; no froufrou trimmings, lace, or flowers.

After quite a bit of negotiation, the girl held up a robe that was just barely eggshell white, which would flatter Hermione's tanned skin tone nicely. It was made of silk, and the luxury of the fabric more than compensated for the simplicity of the design.

She met Charlie at their agreed-upon rendezvous spot, the café a few doors down from Nunta Roba. Charlie reported that he had arranged the Portkey; someone would only have to pick it up at the British Ministry for Magic the day before it activated.

A hostess showed them to a table near the front of the restaurant. After ordering their lunches, they resumed planning, since they only had a few more hours in Bucharest. Charlie started to dig into his serving of sarmale, and Hermione toyed with her ghiveciu.

"Charlie, do you have dress robes?"

"What?"

Hermione shot him a level look. "I know you're a rugged dragon keeper, and you're not fond of dressing up, but this is our wedding. Let's go get you some robes. They don't have to be over-the-top fancy, just nice robes."

Charlie gave her a pained look.

"No puppy-dog eyes. They do nothing to me. You should know I'm a cat person." Her tone gentled. "It won't be that bad. I promise. Let's finish lunch, and we'll get some robes for you. My dress should be ready by then; they had to raise the hem a bit."

They finished their lunch, making sure there were no more loose ends while they were in Bucharest. They paid their bill and went back to Nunta Roba.

"Come on, Charlie. I promise - I'm not a shopper, I'm a buyer. We go in, we find, we buy."

Charlie looked at her warily. "I don't think I've ever heard of a woman who's not a shopper."

"Well, you're marrying one. Let's go." She grabbed his hand and fairly dragged him into the shop, where the same girl came to assist them.

Hermione started to speak in her slow, stunted English when Charlie began speaking in what seemed to be nearly fluent Romanian. She goggled at him.

When he finished speaking, the girl went to fetch some robes for him to try on, and Hermione hit his arm. "Charlie," she hissed, "why didn't you tell me you spoke Romanian? Buying my robes was torture!"

"Sorry, I didn't even think of that," he said, sheepishly. "I've lived here for so long that I've learned enough to get by. You wouldn't have wanted me with you, though, even if it was easier - I'm not supposed to see your robes before the ceremony." Charlie smiled at her pique. "You're cute when you're in a strop, you know that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, about to answer him when the shop girl returned with a few robes for him to try on. He gladly accepted the diversion and went into the men's dressing area. Pulling the curtain closed, he pulled the robes on, before deciding on a robe of such a dark blue that it was almost black. The colour made his eyes stand out and would correspond to the flowers they'd chosen.

He came out of the room, back in his street clothes, handing his chosen robe to the shop girl who promptly rung him up. They left the store with both robes in separate garment bags.

"See, that wasn't too painful, was it?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Depends on your definition of ‘painful'."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "Oh, come on. You know that buying wedding robes is normally an all-day torture session, usually attended by the groom, the bride, and their mothers. You got off easy, mister." She came to a sudden halt. "Oh! I almost forgot - do you need shoes?"

"No, love, I already have dress shoes. I'll just have to polish them. Do you need anything else?"

Nibbling her lower lip, she checked each item off her mental list. "No, I got everything I needed in there - dress, shoes, veil, all the associated accoutrements. I'm all set. Let's go home."

Charlie grinned. "I like hearing that from you."

"What, that I have all the clothes I need?"

"No, ‘home'," he said, with a smile.

So did she. She smiled fondly at him. "Oh, I love you, you big softy."

"I love you, too. I especially like your hit-wizard style of shopping."

"So, I was right?"

"About what?"

"That it's not exactly torture to shop with me?"

He nodded grudgingly. "As much as I hate to admit it... yes."

"You know, our married life would get off to quite a smooth start if you would just accept the fact that I'm always right."

Charlie laughed out loud. "Is that so?"

"You bet."

"I don't know that I'm ready to make such a concession, love, but I would like to get back in time for supper. Shall we?" He extended an arm and she hooked hers around it.

They made their way to the public Apparation point and Apparated back to the quad at the sanctuary.

"Let's get these hung up, and get to dinner, love. I'm starved!"

Hermione mumbled something.... Charlie could swear he heard something about "Weasley" and "bottomless pit" and "just had lunch" and "insatiable."

He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest, "Yes... I am insatiable. But for now, I'll take a kiss and a promise." He leaned his head down and gave her a sweet kiss that quickly became more heated, like too much time spent in the sun.

They broke apart when they heard Jack catcalling across the quad, "Can't keep yer hands off him, can ya, Granger?"

Hermione blushed a deep crimson. "Jack!"

Charlie grinned at his friend's cheek. He took Hermione's hand and started off to their tents again. "Come on, ignore him. He's used to it."

"Oi!"

Charlie leaned over and whispered, "I don't hear anything, do you?"

Hermione grinned up at him. "Not a thing. Shall we?"

They walked away, grinning, hand in hand, ignoring the huffing American.

When they got to their tents, Hermione took her garment bag from Charlie and hung it up, making sure it would be wrinkle-free. Then she put her shoes and lingerie away, and then met Charlie outside their tents to go to the canteen for supper.

As they walked, Hermione started ticking items off a mental list. "All right. So we have the canteen reserved and permission from Alex. We've invited all our co-workers who aren't on duty. We have our clothes sorted. You arranged the Portkey, my parents have their tickets and Jack will meet them at the airport. The ladies are going to decorate the canteen that morning, and they have their instructions. I have my flowers planned, and the food and cake will be prepared by the kitchen staff." She looked at him. "Is it possible that we're already done?"

Charlie thought for a minute. "Music?"

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that! Should we go with recorded music, or should we just trust that the WWN will have something appropriate?"

He chuckled. Like the WWN would suddenly decide to play wedding-appropriate music. "Recorded music might be more work, but it's safer. You never know when they'll have a Celestina Warbeck retrospective."

Hermione shuddered. "Agreed. My iPod actually works here - the magic isn't so dense that it interferes with the electronics. I can just set it to ‘shuffle' and we'll be set. Easy peasy."

"If you say so, love."

"I do."

"Hm. Say that again," He said, biting his lip sexily.

"I do."

"I love how that sounds coming from your lips," he said, giving her a mostly chaste kiss just before they entered the canteen.

After the hustle and bustle of the day, they just wanted a quiet meal and to retire early. When they finished eating, they cleared their trays and returned to Hermione's tent.

Charlie's fingers twined with hers. "I can't believe it - we actually planned a wedding in two weeks. Now we can enjoy the rest of the time before the wedding doing more enjoyable things."

"Oh? What do you have in mind, Mr. Weasley?"

"Mm... a bit of snogging, to be sure."

"I'm definitely amenable to that."

"Yeah? Well, no time like the present -" He bent down, kissing her deeply. She moaned in response, leaning against him and wrapping her arms around him, holding him tightly. His hands cradled her head and quickly moved to caress her back, roaming to cup her buttocks to mould her body to his. She held on, fisting the fabric of his shirt as her knees buckled.

He moved to trail kisses down her throat, suckling at the tender spot where shoulder and neck join. "Charlie, I..."

He looked up, eyes alight with desire. "Yes, love?"

"I... I want..."

"Love, there are things we could do... before the wedding," he said, adorning her face with kisses as he spoke.

Hermione looked at him, confused. "What?"

"We can do other things... but still leave consummation until the wedding," he answered, hopeful. "Please Hermione, let me taste you."

The blush that swallowed her face demonstrated her mortification. "What? You... you want to do that?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. No one had ever asked that of her before....

"Oh, God, yes," he continued, alternately kissing and licking her neck, making his way to the sensitive spot behind her right ear.

When he palmed her breast and rolled her nipple, all reservations flew from her mind. She began to unbutton her blouse clumsily. Charlie impatiently grabbed the two sides of the garment and tugged, sending buttons flying all around the room.

"Hey - I liked that shirt," she protested weakly.

"Sorry. I'll fix it later," he said distractedly, stripping off his own shirt.

He reached around and unhooked her bra. When her breasts were freed of their confines, he bent down before her to kiss and suckle them, and her knees buckled again. He looked up at her. "Bed?"

"Bed."

She shrieked in surprise when he swept her up in his arms to carry her to her bedroom. He silenced her with yet another bone-melting kiss. Arriving in her bedroom, he laid her down in the middle of the bed. He rested his weight on his elbows and leaned over her, revelling in the feeling of her naked chest pressed against his own as he kissed her. Hermione grasped at his shoulders, trying to gain purchase as her emotions overwhelmed her.

Charlie slowed down the rhythm of the encounter, wishing to prolong their pleasure, but Hermione was impatient. She reached down and unbuttoned her trousers. When she tried to shimmy out of them, Charlie stopped her. "Wait, love. That action will change all my plans."

He smiled at her befuddled expression. "Allow me." He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers and pulled her trousers and knickers off in one smooth motion. He sat back to look at her, and she started to cover herself, embarrassed.

"No, no, no... you are... exquisite." The last word came out honest, rough, as if he'd swallowed gravel.

Hermione allowed her hands to fall to her sides and began fisting the duvet in anticipation. Charlie kissed her ankle, trailed kisses up to her knee, and licked his way up her thigh. When he reached the apex of her thigh, he kissed and suckled it, leaving a love bite.

"Oh, God! Charlie!"

He grinned up at her impishly. "Oh, love, I haven't even started."

Hermione whimpered in reply.

Charlie lowered his head again, giving a long, slow lick with the flat of his tongue from slit to clit. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, and her body bowed off the bed in reaction. He lifted her knees off the bed and slid his hands beneath them, wrapping his hands around to hold her hips still. He pressed his tongue into her slit, then focused his attentions on her clit, sliding one finger into her tight channel. As he continued sucking and licking at the bundle of nerves, he began pumping into her, locating her g-spot.

Her hips bucked, and she fisted the duvet so tightly it seemed she might tear right through it. Her head fell back and her neck tensed as she struggled to breathe. This was unlike anything...

God, she was hot. The sounds and reactions were greatly arousing to Charlie. He pressed his erection into the bed in rhythm with the thrusts of his finger into her welcoming body.

As her orgasm neared, he could feel the fluttering of her vaginal walls, and he sucked on her clit, hard. As her inner walls clamped down on his finger in orgasm, she shrieked his name. Hearing his name on her lips... he came in his trousers calling her name with a strained voice.

Charlie crawled up the bed and pulled her close.

When her wits returned to her, she looked into his eyes, hands cupping his face. "That... I... Oh, Charlie!" She kissed him, tasting herself on his lips and finding that it wasn't as awful as she'd expected.

When they pulled apart, Charlie beamed down at her. "Have I rendered you speechless, love?"

She nodded. "A little bit, yes."

"I'll consider that high praise, indeed."

"You certainly should. But... are you -"

"I'm fine."

"But you didn't -"

"Actually,"-he blushed and glanced away-"I did."

"Really? Just from -"

"Yes, love. Watching you fall apart was one of the single most amazing things I've ever seen. I'm even more certain now that I want to be the man who does that for you - and to you - for the rest of our lives."

"I don't know what to say. I want to be able to... reciprocate," she said, blushing. It was only fair, after all.

"We'll have to wait. Right now, I'm tired and spent, and your eyes are drooping." His thumb brushed her cheek. "Can I sleep here?"

She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and smiled. "I would love to wake up in your arms."

He gathered her close, and they drifted off to sleep.

•◘•◘•◘•

  

When she awoke early the next morning, Hermione knew Charlie had, indeed, stayed over, from the warmth nestled behind her and the weight of a strong arm thrown over her torso, the hand gently cupping her breast. It wasn't a sexual embrace, but an intimate one. She rubbed his arm, enjoying the sensation of his crisp hair under her palm. She stretched and felt a distinct hardness under her bum. Hermione was curious in the extreme. She'd done a lot of reading, but had never had such access to the human male form. She turned in his arms and pressed gently against his shoulder, moving him to his back.

At some point, he'd removed his trousers and was only wearing boxers, the tip of his morning erection peeping out at her from the front opening. She looked at his face, but he seemed to still be completely relaxed in sleep.

Biting her lower lip, she pulled out the waistband of his pants and moved it off his half-hard cock, which was now lying on his belly. She licked her lips in anticipation and wrapped one hand around it. She was surprised at how warm it felt, and how quickly it hardened. She moved her hand along the length of him, getting the feel of it - like silk on steel. When she moved her hand back down, the foreskin moved with it, exposing the head. Fascinated, she experimented with moving her hand and watching the action of the foreskin.

Charlie groaned. "You're going to kill me."

Hermione jumped. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean -"

Charlie smiled. "No need to apologize, love. You can wake me up this way any time you wish. Let me show you."

He placed his hand over hers, gripping more firmly than she ever would have. He twisted his wrist on the upstroke, which she imagined would increase the motion of the foreskin. After a moment, he removed his hand, revelling in the feeling of her hand on him.

As she pumped his member, a drop of pre-come gathered at the tip. Curious, she bent forward, licking just the tip to get a taste.

The delicate, kitten's lick of her tongue caused Charlie to jump. "Bloody hell!"

Hermione pulled away abruptly. "I'm sorry!"

He wrapped his hand around hers again, this time to still it, and leaned up to kiss her sweetly. "Darling, there's never anything to apologise for when we're together like this. I love you. Sometimes, I'll react to something you do, and it may be a strong reaction. Sometimes, I curse. I didn't say that because what you did was bad. I did it because it was unexpected and it felt... amazing."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. I promise."

"I feel so... stupid."

Charlie cupped her cheek. "Please don't. You have no idea how special it is to be able to be the one to show you this part of yourself, to know that I'm the first - and only - man who will experience this with you. It's beyond special."

Hermione kissed him as she took him in hand again, surprising him whilst he was distracted.

He pulled away from her kiss, falling back on the pillow again. "Ahhhh, fuck!"

She continued stroking him as she bent down to suckle the head of his cock.

After a few moments, she ran her tongue around the ridge, finding the extra-sensitive spot on the underside, and his breathing became increasingly ragged. She reached one hand below to cup his bollocks, thinking that he preferred a firm hand on his member, squeezing them gently - but firmly - alternating with the strokes of his cock.

The sensations proved overwhelming, she felt his balls tighten, and he called out, "I'm coming!"

A moment later, his whole body tensed, and he came with a shout. As he did, she surprised him by taking the head of his cock in her mouth and swallowing his seed.

She climbed up the bed, snuggling into the crook of his arm, and threw a leg over his thighs and an arm across his torso. Sated, they fell back into a light slumber.

•◘•◘•◘•

 

Hermione's arm was around Charlie's waist and his arm was over her shoulders on their way to the canteen the next morning. Jack met them along the way with an enormous, impish grin on his face.

"Good morning, you two!" he said, far more cheerfully than normal.

"Good morning, Jack. How are you?" Hermione responded, not terribly pleased to have her quiet time with Charlie interrupted.

"Oh, I'm a bit sleepy."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Sleepy? Why? Didn't you sleep well?"

"I was sleeping all right, until my neighbours forgot how to apply a silencing charm and I was woken up before the crack of dawn to a bloke bellowing like an angry dragon."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. He heard! If he'd heard, who else had? She tucked her face into Charlie's chest, mortified.

Jack sniggered, and Charlie glared at him. "Sod off, mate. Now's not the time."

"Aw, you're no fun, Weasley."

"Go away, Jack."

Jack went on ahead to the canteen, and Charlie pulled Hermione from the safety of his chest, lifting her chin so she would look him in the eyes. "Sweetheart, it's okay. Jack's the only tosser who lives anywhere close to our tents. He may enjoy taking the piss here, when it's just the three of us, but even he's discreet enough to not tease in a public place."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And it's a good lesson in not losing our heads before we put up the silencing spell." He winked, drawing a reluctant chuckle from her. "Of course, while he may not say anything, that doesn't mean that he won't be throwing us meaningful glances all day."

"Ugh. Charlie! Do we have to go in?"

"I do. I'm starving!"

Hermione just laughed as he half-dragged her the rest of the way to the canteen.

•◘•◘•◘•

 

The remaining days before the wedding passed in a blur of routine combined with excitement. Before they knew it, it was Friday night. Their families would be arriving in the morning, and by this time tomorrow, they would be married. Alex and Ognyan had even approved them a week off, and they had a honeymoon planned in Sofia. Their families were scheduled to stay for the weekend, and they were to leave on Monday for Bulgaria.

After supper on Friday, they went to Hermione's tent to ensure they hadn't forgotten anything crucial. After about an hour of discussion and list-checking, they were satisfied that they were ready.

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?" Charlie asked.

Hermione smiled. "Take your pick. That it took us this many years to find each other, that I would ultimately choose a career that would bring me all the way to Romania - to the exact dragon sanctuary where you work, that we'd fall in love so quickly, that we'd get engaged (and married) in such a short time. This has truly been a whirlwind, and it's been so good, I'm almost afraid of waking up."

"If this is a dream - and I'm quite sure it's not - I don't ever want to wake up," Charlie said emphatically.

Hermione melted and kissed him, sliding her hand into the collar of his shirt, caressing his shoulder. His head dropped back and he moaned. Emboldened, she straddled his lap and kissed his throat, licking his freckles as she unbuttoned his shirt. He cupped her arse, encouraging her to gently rock against his hardening member.

They unbuttoned each other's shirts, and he unclasped her bra. They removed the offending garments, and he latched onto her nipple as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger, as he knew she liked. She reached between them, opening his belt and the placket of his slacks. He stood and she wrapped her legs around him, allowing him to carry her to the bedroom as he kicked off his trousers.

Once in her room, he placed her on the bed. He grasped her khakis as she shimmied up the bed, stripping her of both her trousers and knickers. Leaning over her, he inhaled deeply.

"I love your scent. It drives me wild. Let me in, love," he said, nudging her knees farther apart and settling between them. He pressed a kiss to her labia, and she gasped. Pulling open her lower lips, he started alternately licking and sucking her clit. As aroused as she already was, she orgasmed quickly.

She pulled him up by his shoulders until he was hovering over her and she could feel the weight of his erection on her belly.

"Are you all right?"

She kissed him. "I'm so very all right. Charlie, I want you."

"The wedding is tomorrow. Are you certain you don't want to wait one more night? I don't want you to feel pressured." His cock throbbed painfully, and he couldn't help but wonder why he was delaying.

Hermione pulled him closer to her, so she could feel his weight on top of her. She whispered in his ear, "I don't feel pressure. I feel desire. I feel so hot and so wet for you. I need you, please. I won't regret this, I promise."

Satisfied with that response, Charlie pulled back again, resting his weight on his arms, looking into her eyes. He kissed her and she returned his fervour. She reached between them and positioned his cock at her entrance.

"Please."

Any remaining resolve he had to wait until they were married crumbled. "This will hurt a bit at first, but I promise I'll make it good for you."

She nodded, eyes full of love and trust. "I know."

He thrust into her both as quickly and as gently as he could, tearing the thin barrier of flesh. Hermione hissed in pain, her eyes watering. Charlie stilled, waiting for some indication from her to continue. It was the sweetest torture. She was so wet and so tight, it took all his restraint to wait for her.

It was both more and less painful than she'd expected, which made no sense whatsoever. She took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes. "I'm okay. Please... move. Make me feel good."

Charlie smiled down at her as he started thrusting shallowly. At first, she wasn't moving, but as he sped up, she learned his rhythm and began matching his movements. Her sighs and gasps of delight were music to his ears, encouraging him on. He started to feel his balls tighten - the first sign of his impending climax - so he reached between them to rub her clit.

The incredible sensation of fullness plus the stimulation to her clit pushed her over the edge, and her walls clamped down on his cock as she called out his name in abandon, head thrown back. The feeling of her trimmed nails clasping and scratching his back in ecstasy, in addition to the sound of his name on her lips, was more than he could bear, and his orgasm ripped through him with an incoherent roar.

Exhausted, he dropped himself from his elbows. He tried to roll off of her, but she clutched him to her chest, revelling in his weight for those first few post-coital moments. She eventually released him, and he stroked her sweaty brow.

"Are you still all right?" he asked, concerned.

She beamed at him. "Oh, God, yes. I can't believe I waited so long! I mean, I'm glad I waited for you, but we could have been doing this for weeks."

He grinned roguishly. "Don't worry. I plan on making up for lost time on the honeymoon."

Charlie rolled onto his back and she rested her head on his shoulder. It wasn't the softest of pillows, but it was the most cherished. As they lay there in quiet contemplation, he played with a lock of her hair, and she stroked the hairs on his chest.

"Charlie?"

"Yes, love?"

"Did you remember a silencing charm?"

Charlie's eyes opened wide. "Bugger all! He'll never let us live this down!"

Section End Notes:

Sarmale: ground meat (half beef, half pork) rolled into a sausage shape and wrapped in cabbage leaves, then cooked in broth on a bed of onions and tomatoes. Before serving, a few good spoonfuls of crème fraîche are added.

Ghiveciu: Romanian national stew, made with vegetables, veal and raisins.

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Section Six

That evening, Charlie went back to his own tent to sleep, so he wouldn't break the taboo of seeing the bride before the wedding.

Hermione needed to get ready, and everyone was supposed to be arriving by ten o'clock. The ruse was that this was a surprise party for Hermione, and that it was a dressy affair - since they had so few festive occasions and opportunities to dress nicely at the sanctuary, they wanted to be sure that they went all-out for this one.

The Weasleys and Potters arrived first, by Portkey. Alex met them in the quad and showed them to the canteen. Most of the sanctuary staff who were attending the wedding were already waiting.

"Blimey! This is your cafeteria?" Ron exclaimed.

Alex chuckled. "Yes, but it's been decorated for the party. My wife and the chief medivet's wife have been working since the early hours of the morning to make it look less like a cafeteria."

Ron continued to stare around in amazement. "Well, they did a good job of it."

"Thank you. They'll be happy to hear it," Alex said with a warm smile.

Around ten-fifteen, Charlie showed up in his dress robes.

"Charlie! Oh my goodness! You look so handsome! It's a wonder you're still single!" his mum gushed.

He chuckled. Oh, if only she knew! "It is, isn't it?"

He hugged his family and did a quick frisking of the twins.

"Oi! We don't appreciate that!" Fred and George complained.

"Well, you can't say you haven't earned it."

"Maybe, but still!" Fred answered.

He clapped them on the shoulders. "You're here now. Get something to drink and enjoy yourselves. It's a party! Just don't enjoy yourselves too much."

Fred and George rolled their eyes at him, replying in unison, "Yes, Dad."

At ten-thirty, Jack walked in with the Grangers, who looked a little worse for the wear.

"Are you all right? You look a bit... green."

Mr. Granger replied, "We were fine with the flying, of course, but that... that... squeezing thingy - there really was no way to prepare for that."

Charlie looked at the man who would shortly be his father-in-law. "You've never Apparated before? Oh, I didn't realize! Are you okay?"

Robert Granger looked at his wife. "I think we'll be fine. Just need to sit a spell and maybe get a spot of tea?"

Molly overheard this interchange and offered to get their tea. The Grangers both thanked her profusely. Charlie smiled, grateful that his family had known Hermione - and her parents - for so long. It should help them accept the sudden marriage.

While Charlie and Molly were seeing to the Grangers, the official arrived. He'd been briefed about the wedding being a surprise to their families, so he tried his best to mingle with anyone who wasn't a ginger, so he wouldn't have to worry about keeping the big secret.

Once everyone had arrived, Jack snuck out to let Hermione know she could come in. He hurried back, so that she could make her entrance. When the door opened, someone pressed "play" on Hermione's iPod, which was set to Jeremiah Clarke's "Prince of Denmark's March". The Weasleys, Grangers, and Potters looked around, surprised by the music. The Grangers and Harry recognized the music as a bridal march - the same one Princess Diana had chosen. The doors opened with a swish of Alex's wand, and Hermione stood there in her wedding robes and veil, beaming. When everyone turned around, they saw that Charlie had moved to the front of the room, and there was a smallish man standing beside him.

Hermione called to her father, "Daddy, will you walk with me?" The out-of-town guests were all agog, whispering. Mr. Granger's eyes misted over, as his wife burst into tears. He approached his daughter, dipping his head for a moment of privacy.

"Are you really getting married, Hermione? Now? Are you sure?"

She beamed up at him, obviously happier than he'd ever seen her. "I've never been more sure of anything, Daddy."

"Well, let's go, then. No reason to keep him waiting."

"Thank you. I love you, Daddy," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

They waited a few moments as everyone found their seats, which had been cleverly arranged to be ready for the wedding, but not overtly so. Once the clamour died down, Robert and Hermione walked the short way to meet Charlie, and the official began the ceremony.

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Thanks for reading!