Happy Holidays, savepureness!!!
Title: First Times
Written for: savepureness.
Pairing: Charlie/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some snogging and some fluff. EWE assumed.
Wordcount: 2,187
Summary: Hermione remembers every first with Charlie.
A/N: Hope you like this! :) This pairing has been really growing on me lately, and I've had tons of fun writing this. ♥
She remembers the time, she is certain, when it starts. The first time something happens between them. It's nothing major, or even seemingly that significant, but she knows, somehow, that it's the moment everything else stems out of.
The Ministry insists she go to Romania and speak with the reservation keepers herself and grudgingly, unwillingly, she goes.
When she enters Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures after Hogwarts, she is thinking of her long-desired passion to improve the lives of underprivileged non-humans, but house-elves hold, of course, only a tiny concern within the department. Free or enslaved, they don't alter the existence of the wizarding world by their own. Hermione finds that since a lot of Purebloods lost favour, liberating the house-elves presents her with no difficulty. In fact, the only ones who mind are the house-elves themselves. She also quickly finds that creatures who take up most of her attention are dragons, vicious and near-impossible to successfully hide, always in need of relocation or rehabilitation, and constantly hunted and on the brink of endangerment.
She Floos right to the reservation, and the moment she steps out of the fireplace, she is deafened by earth-splitting roars from all around her. Her body tenses up and she has to fight with herself to not drop to the ground and cover her ears. Many in the department assume that the fact that she's one of the only three people in the world ever to have ridden the mighty creatures makes her unafraid, but the truth is she's petrified. If she never sees a dragon again she will be perfectly content.
She is dazed and stumbles, people within the tent turning to look at the stranger that emerges from the fireplace and looks like she doesn't belong curiously, and then all of a sudden she's safe and warm. Someone's holding her in a tight grip and practically carrying her out of the tent and away from the sounds, pressing her head to his chest so she can't look up and look around.
She feels the tug of side-Apparition, and grasps whoever is holding her instinctively, completely forgetting to be afraid of an unidentified person Apparating her somewhere in a foreign country. She lets go only when her feet land on a soft ground of grass, and her ears are liberated by silence.
She jumps back only to find Charlie, looking concerned, and relaxes her face into a smile immediately.
"You weren't supposed to Floo to that point," he says, studying her carefully, as if expecting her to be injured or in shock. "That one is only for employees. Of the reservation," he adds quickly when she opens her mouth to protest. "People from the city, or who aren't used to the constant roars find it akin to stumbling into a nightmare. It's very unexpected." He frowns at her. "Hermione, are you ok?"
She takes a steadying breath, straightens out her robes, and looks at him with a calm expression.
"Perfectly fine, Charlie, of course." She smiles, though she can hear her voice is shaking. "You didn't have to swoop me out of there like that, I was just a little thrown off."
Charlie tilts his head in amusement. "I knew you were coming. Punctual, as usual. You do look shaken up."
She raises a brow at him. "How did you know I was going to Floo to the wrong point, then?"
"Just knew. In your unpredictability, I'm afraid, you are predictable."
He grins and takes a step towards her, enveloping her in another hug. She relaxes in his embrace. She's always loved Charlie's hugs, ever since the first time she's met him. They're always openly given and comforting. She places her head on his chest, and suddenly hears his heart racing against his chest. She doesn't know why she feels herself blush. She tells herself that it is certainly not for her that it's racing, but most probably from some sort of strenuous exercise Charlie has been doing before rescuing her from the Floo point.
Still, suddenly, she finds herself very aware of every inch of his body that is in contact with hers. How well-defined the chest that she is cradled into is, how carefully his arms hold her, as if afraid to break her, the smell of fire-wood that's emanating from every inch of his body, and how laboured his breath is and how hard he's trying to steady it.
She clears her throat and pushes him away gently so she can step back, immediately missing his warmth and shivering slightly. She can't bring herself to look at him, and she wonders whether he notices how flushed and embarrassed she looks. She hopes that if he does, he attributes it to her feeling silly by getting so startled.
"Shall we go, then?" he asks, and walks by her. There is a slight edge to his voice she can't help but notice. "I'll show you to my house and get you settled into the guest room. We can discuss business over some warm chamomile tea."
She follows him in silence. Something's shifted, but at the time, she can't figure out what. All she knows is that it's not going to be quite the same again between them.
~*~
The first time she realizes she's fallen for Charlie Weasley is a few months later when she once again finds herself on the reservation. This time, when she is asked, she goes willingly.
She Floos with a temporary protective Silence Bubble around her. Charlie isn't there, and she feels a gleeful kind of pride when she steps out of the fireplace calmly and dusts herself off, and then a disappointment that he's not there to see it. The roars become louder and louder in her ears gradually.
A young witch notices her and smiles at her, extending a dusty hand for her to shake.
"You must be Mrs Granger," she says cheerfully, checking a pad of paper she is holding, "from the British Ministry?"
Hermione nods. "Yes, that's me."
"Would you like to be taken straight to the director?"
Hermione scans the inside of the tent again, and then frowns thoughtfully, shaking her head. "Erm... Would it be possible to see Charlie Weasley first, if he is around? He was supposed to meet me."
The witch nods. "Yes, Mr Weasley has mentioned that. We have a hatching in progress in one of our incubators, and Mr Weasley couldn't miss it. He's been taking care of those eggs ever since the mother passed away." The girl gives Hermione a measuring look and then asks, "Would you like me to take you there? It should be over any minute, I would say, and it's truly heart-warming to watch those adorable babies hatching."
She sweeps out of the tent before Hermione even has a chance to reply, and all she can do is follow at a half-jog. She thinks that one must really love dragons to refer to them as "adorable". She remembers Herbert, Herberta now, and thinks that perhaps baby dragons could be considered rather cute. The intimate knowledge of what they inevitably grow up to be still ruins any liking she can allow herself to feel towards them, however.
The young woman leads her past never-ending enormous tents that are spread out through the field. Far away, Hermione can see cages, flying ranges, and a forest, all filled with roaring, fire, and the enormous creatures flying, sitting, or being hoarded or examined by the workers. The woman hustles her into a tent that seems secured with multiple layers of fire-resistant leather, and the moment they enter, Hermione feels faint. The temperature is so high she immediately feels all her clothes soak through with sweat and stick to her body.
"Oh no," the young woman suddenly murmurs beside her, while Hermione is trying to figure out whether her skin is actually melting, "just one?"
Hermione finally looks up and something inside her throat catches.
Charlie is standing in the cage, wearing only trousers, sweat pouring down his body, a tiny creature cradled against his scarred chest. She can see that the small red creature's eyes are still closed, and it's making high-pitched, squeaky sounds, and waving all its scaly legs in the air. But it's the expression on Charlie's face that gets Hermione the most. It's so full of concern and love and genuine happiness that Hermione feels her eyes start to sting. Charlie is rocking the creature back and forth gently, and she can see his lips moving, probably murmuring something. The vicious dragon tattooed on Charlie's chest is staring at the baby dragon almost tenderly.
Suddenly, Charlie looks up and their eyes meet. She realizes her eyes are full of tears, and so, she thinks, are his. They hold each other's gaze for a long time, and suddenly, Hermione knows she loves him. She's fancied him for a long time now, since the last time she's seen him, and probably, secretly, since she was a young school girl, but in the moment she is overwhelmed with how strong her feelings for him have become.
He smiles at her and looks down at his charge again.
~*~
She will never forget when he first kisses her. She is a regular at the reservation by then. She tells herself she visits so often because she has grown to love dragons and because it's a chance for her to take vacations while still working, but, of course, it's for Charlie that she keeps coming back. And because she comes for him, she has grown to love what matters to him, even if she still has to flinch inwardly whenever she's anywhere in the vicinity of a dragon.
She has decided that she will tell Charlie how she feels, but every time she somehow chickens out, changes her mind, or gets so flustered nothing comes out but illegible mumbling. The reservation gives her a small cottage not far from from where it's located, though far enough not to hears the roars, since she visits so often. It's tiny and small and she loves and hates it at the same time. She loves to have her own hide-away place she can escape to whenever she feels the need, but she hates the fact that she no longer has an excuse to stay with Charlie.
She is sitting on her porch with a cup of Earl Grey when he emerges from the trees, obviously coming straight from work judging by the state of his clothing. She admires him as he strolls through her front yard and comes to stand in front of her.
"They told me you've come around but didn't look for me," he says.
She nods. "They told me you were at a hatching. I didn't want to interfere."
Charlie cocks his head at her. "I was under the impression the hatchings were one of the things that have to do with dragons you actually liked."
She feels herself blush suddenly. Somehow, she knows this is it. She can feel it at the bottom of her stomach.
"I find it... overwhelming," she says quietly, and forces herself to look up at him.
Charlie smiles at her gently. "It is. They are so small, so helpless, I get overwhelmed every time, and I've been doing this for years."
She shakes her head. She is aware that her hands are shaking. "I don't mean the dragons," she almost whispers. "I mean... I mean you."
Charlie studies her face carefully, seriously. She knows he needs more than that and forces herself to continue.
"When I look at you with those dragons, the look on your face, how you love them, it makes me ache."
Charlie kneels in front of her and gently tilts her head up so he can study her eyes, which she has once again hidden from him. "Hermione," he murmurs, "are you saying what I hope you're saying?"
Her heart jumps into her throat and she squeaks, "What are you hoping I'm saying?"
"Let's see," he murmurs.
Suddenly, he leans in and slowly brushes his lips against hers and then studies her face again, as if asking permission. She barely has time to think before she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately, trying to pull him as close as she can. He growls and pulls her towards him, attacking her lips with a passion she is sure she has never been kissed with.
When they fall apart, they're both gasping. Charlie smiles as she cuddles into him, kissing his neck and then sighing contentedly.
"It feels like I've been waiting to do that half my life," Charlie says. "You know I'm not letting you go now, right? You can give back this cottage."
Hermione smiles and nods. There will be a lot of talking, she knows. Somehow, both of them know this is not any kind of infatuation or silly crush. They will not be going on dozens of awkward dates and then seeing where it goes. She knows she wants to be with him, seriously enough that she will have to think carefully about her placement and her job and the distance between them.
All that will come. For now, she is perfectly content to where she is, getting lost in his scent and his touch.
Written for: savepureness.
Pairing: Charlie/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some snogging and some fluff. EWE assumed.
Wordcount: 2,187
Summary: Hermione remembers every first with Charlie.
A/N: Hope you like this! :) This pairing has been really growing on me lately, and I've had tons of fun writing this. ♥
She remembers the time, she is certain, when it starts. The first time something happens between them. It's nothing major, or even seemingly that significant, but she knows, somehow, that it's the moment everything else stems out of.
The Ministry insists she go to Romania and speak with the reservation keepers herself and grudgingly, unwillingly, she goes.
When she enters Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures after Hogwarts, she is thinking of her long-desired passion to improve the lives of underprivileged non-humans, but house-elves hold, of course, only a tiny concern within the department. Free or enslaved, they don't alter the existence of the wizarding world by their own. Hermione finds that since a lot of Purebloods lost favour, liberating the house-elves presents her with no difficulty. In fact, the only ones who mind are the house-elves themselves. She also quickly finds that creatures who take up most of her attention are dragons, vicious and near-impossible to successfully hide, always in need of relocation or rehabilitation, and constantly hunted and on the brink of endangerment.
She Floos right to the reservation, and the moment she steps out of the fireplace, she is deafened by earth-splitting roars from all around her. Her body tenses up and she has to fight with herself to not drop to the ground and cover her ears. Many in the department assume that the fact that she's one of the only three people in the world ever to have ridden the mighty creatures makes her unafraid, but the truth is she's petrified. If she never sees a dragon again she will be perfectly content.
She is dazed and stumbles, people within the tent turning to look at the stranger that emerges from the fireplace and looks like she doesn't belong curiously, and then all of a sudden she's safe and warm. Someone's holding her in a tight grip and practically carrying her out of the tent and away from the sounds, pressing her head to his chest so she can't look up and look around.
She feels the tug of side-Apparition, and grasps whoever is holding her instinctively, completely forgetting to be afraid of an unidentified person Apparating her somewhere in a foreign country. She lets go only when her feet land on a soft ground of grass, and her ears are liberated by silence.
She jumps back only to find Charlie, looking concerned, and relaxes her face into a smile immediately.
"You weren't supposed to Floo to that point," he says, studying her carefully, as if expecting her to be injured or in shock. "That one is only for employees. Of the reservation," he adds quickly when she opens her mouth to protest. "People from the city, or who aren't used to the constant roars find it akin to stumbling into a nightmare. It's very unexpected." He frowns at her. "Hermione, are you ok?"
She takes a steadying breath, straightens out her robes, and looks at him with a calm expression.
"Perfectly fine, Charlie, of course." She smiles, though she can hear her voice is shaking. "You didn't have to swoop me out of there like that, I was just a little thrown off."
Charlie tilts his head in amusement. "I knew you were coming. Punctual, as usual. You do look shaken up."
She raises a brow at him. "How did you know I was going to Floo to the wrong point, then?"
"Just knew. In your unpredictability, I'm afraid, you are predictable."
He grins and takes a step towards her, enveloping her in another hug. She relaxes in his embrace. She's always loved Charlie's hugs, ever since the first time she's met him. They're always openly given and comforting. She places her head on his chest, and suddenly hears his heart racing against his chest. She doesn't know why she feels herself blush. She tells herself that it is certainly not for her that it's racing, but most probably from some sort of strenuous exercise Charlie has been doing before rescuing her from the Floo point.
Still, suddenly, she finds herself very aware of every inch of his body that is in contact with hers. How well-defined the chest that she is cradled into is, how carefully his arms hold her, as if afraid to break her, the smell of fire-wood that's emanating from every inch of his body, and how laboured his breath is and how hard he's trying to steady it.
She clears her throat and pushes him away gently so she can step back, immediately missing his warmth and shivering slightly. She can't bring herself to look at him, and she wonders whether he notices how flushed and embarrassed she looks. She hopes that if he does, he attributes it to her feeling silly by getting so startled.
"Shall we go, then?" he asks, and walks by her. There is a slight edge to his voice she can't help but notice. "I'll show you to my house and get you settled into the guest room. We can discuss business over some warm chamomile tea."
She follows him in silence. Something's shifted, but at the time, she can't figure out what. All she knows is that it's not going to be quite the same again between them.
~*~
The first time she realizes she's fallen for Charlie Weasley is a few months later when she once again finds herself on the reservation. This time, when she is asked, she goes willingly.
She Floos with a temporary protective Silence Bubble around her. Charlie isn't there, and she feels a gleeful kind of pride when she steps out of the fireplace calmly and dusts herself off, and then a disappointment that he's not there to see it. The roars become louder and louder in her ears gradually.
A young witch notices her and smiles at her, extending a dusty hand for her to shake.
"You must be Mrs Granger," she says cheerfully, checking a pad of paper she is holding, "from the British Ministry?"
Hermione nods. "Yes, that's me."
"Would you like to be taken straight to the director?"
Hermione scans the inside of the tent again, and then frowns thoughtfully, shaking her head. "Erm... Would it be possible to see Charlie Weasley first, if he is around? He was supposed to meet me."
The witch nods. "Yes, Mr Weasley has mentioned that. We have a hatching in progress in one of our incubators, and Mr Weasley couldn't miss it. He's been taking care of those eggs ever since the mother passed away." The girl gives Hermione a measuring look and then asks, "Would you like me to take you there? It should be over any minute, I would say, and it's truly heart-warming to watch those adorable babies hatching."
She sweeps out of the tent before Hermione even has a chance to reply, and all she can do is follow at a half-jog. She thinks that one must really love dragons to refer to them as "adorable". She remembers Herbert, Herberta now, and thinks that perhaps baby dragons could be considered rather cute. The intimate knowledge of what they inevitably grow up to be still ruins any liking she can allow herself to feel towards them, however.
The young woman leads her past never-ending enormous tents that are spread out through the field. Far away, Hermione can see cages, flying ranges, and a forest, all filled with roaring, fire, and the enormous creatures flying, sitting, or being hoarded or examined by the workers. The woman hustles her into a tent that seems secured with multiple layers of fire-resistant leather, and the moment they enter, Hermione feels faint. The temperature is so high she immediately feels all her clothes soak through with sweat and stick to her body.
"Oh no," the young woman suddenly murmurs beside her, while Hermione is trying to figure out whether her skin is actually melting, "just one?"
Hermione finally looks up and something inside her throat catches.
Charlie is standing in the cage, wearing only trousers, sweat pouring down his body, a tiny creature cradled against his scarred chest. She can see that the small red creature's eyes are still closed, and it's making high-pitched, squeaky sounds, and waving all its scaly legs in the air. But it's the expression on Charlie's face that gets Hermione the most. It's so full of concern and love and genuine happiness that Hermione feels her eyes start to sting. Charlie is rocking the creature back and forth gently, and she can see his lips moving, probably murmuring something. The vicious dragon tattooed on Charlie's chest is staring at the baby dragon almost tenderly.
Suddenly, Charlie looks up and their eyes meet. She realizes her eyes are full of tears, and so, she thinks, are his. They hold each other's gaze for a long time, and suddenly, Hermione knows she loves him. She's fancied him for a long time now, since the last time she's seen him, and probably, secretly, since she was a young school girl, but in the moment she is overwhelmed with how strong her feelings for him have become.
He smiles at her and looks down at his charge again.
~*~
She will never forget when he first kisses her. She is a regular at the reservation by then. She tells herself she visits so often because she has grown to love dragons and because it's a chance for her to take vacations while still working, but, of course, it's for Charlie that she keeps coming back. And because she comes for him, she has grown to love what matters to him, even if she still has to flinch inwardly whenever she's anywhere in the vicinity of a dragon.
She has decided that she will tell Charlie how she feels, but every time she somehow chickens out, changes her mind, or gets so flustered nothing comes out but illegible mumbling. The reservation gives her a small cottage not far from from where it's located, though far enough not to hears the roars, since she visits so often. It's tiny and small and she loves and hates it at the same time. She loves to have her own hide-away place she can escape to whenever she feels the need, but she hates the fact that she no longer has an excuse to stay with Charlie.
She is sitting on her porch with a cup of Earl Grey when he emerges from the trees, obviously coming straight from work judging by the state of his clothing. She admires him as he strolls through her front yard and comes to stand in front of her.
"They told me you've come around but didn't look for me," he says.
She nods. "They told me you were at a hatching. I didn't want to interfere."
Charlie cocks his head at her. "I was under the impression the hatchings were one of the things that have to do with dragons you actually liked."
She feels herself blush suddenly. Somehow, she knows this is it. She can feel it at the bottom of her stomach.
"I find it... overwhelming," she says quietly, and forces herself to look up at him.
Charlie smiles at her gently. "It is. They are so small, so helpless, I get overwhelmed every time, and I've been doing this for years."
She shakes her head. She is aware that her hands are shaking. "I don't mean the dragons," she almost whispers. "I mean... I mean you."
Charlie studies her face carefully, seriously. She knows he needs more than that and forces herself to continue.
"When I look at you with those dragons, the look on your face, how you love them, it makes me ache."
Charlie kneels in front of her and gently tilts her head up so he can study her eyes, which she has once again hidden from him. "Hermione," he murmurs, "are you saying what I hope you're saying?"
Her heart jumps into her throat and she squeaks, "What are you hoping I'm saying?"
"Let's see," he murmurs.
Suddenly, he leans in and slowly brushes his lips against hers and then studies her face again, as if asking permission. She barely has time to think before she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately, trying to pull him as close as she can. He growls and pulls her towards him, attacking her lips with a passion she is sure she has never been kissed with.
When they fall apart, they're both gasping. Charlie smiles as she cuddles into him, kissing his neck and then sighing contentedly.
"It feels like I've been waiting to do that half my life," Charlie says. "You know I'm not letting you go now, right? You can give back this cottage."
Hermione smiles and nods. There will be a lot of talking, she knows. Somehow, both of them know this is not any kind of infatuation or silly crush. They will not be going on dozens of awkward dates and then seeing where it goes. She knows she wants to be with him, seriously enough that she will have to think carefully about her placement and her job and the distance between them.
All that will come. For now, she is perfectly content to where she is, getting lost in his scent and his touch.