Barolo, Part II

[enemyoftheheir]

Barolo
Part 2/2
Pairing: Charlie/Hermione
Rating: M/NC17
Summary: Sparks fly when Charlie is forced to accompany Hermione on a business trip to Italy. Post DH, EWE



Hermione stared at her reflection in the foggy mirror before pushing at her bushy curls half-heartedly. It was Saturday night, and with nothing else to occupy themselves, and with all of her work done for the next year or so (she'd been avoiding spending free time with Charlie with indecent gusto), it seemed ridiculous to not go out. Still, she was dreading it in a way, and she imagined Charlie was too.

But nevertheless she stepped out into the room just in time to see Charlie pulling a tee shirt over his head, a swath of tanned, muscular abdomen on display for her. A trail of dark auburn hair disappeared inside the waistband of his jeans, and Hermione turned on her heel and away from him just as his head appeared out of the collar of his shirt.

"Where to?" Charlie asked as he pulled on a button-up shirt. It was dark blue and made his eyes look electric. His gaze roved over her form. "You look nice."

It was such an easily delivered compliment, in the way one's father might deliver a compliment, that Hermione was almost hurt. It was ridiculous to be hurt that Charlie wouldn't be attracted to her - for one, this was Charlie. He was eight years older than her and, considering his looks and fantastic job, was probably accustomed to having women throw themselves at him. For another, had she ever really experienced having a man be attracted to her, besides Ron? Viktor didn't count - she'd been fourteen, and she guessed that that relationship had mostly stemmed from Viktor's relief that she wasn't squealing and lunging at him constantly.

"You look nice too. New shirt?" She really hoped she sounded offhand, and her cheeks flamed when Charlie grinned slightly.

"Memorized my wardrobe already? Impressive. You really are the cleverest witch of your time," he parried easily. Hermione glowered at him.

"I was trying to be nice," she said hotly, brandishing her beaded clutch as a potential weapon. She was so annoyed with him that she didn't even realize how the tension had sort of melted away. Charlie laughed and blocked as she swung at him with the clutch.

"Oh, trying to be nice? Now I'm hurt," he teased. "I don't need your charity, Miss Granger."

He caught her wrists in his hands and suddenly they both froze as their eyes met, and the tension returned in full force.

Charlie released Hermione's wrists and shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping she hadn't noticed how his eyes had flicked to her lips.

"Right. Well, let's head off then," said Hermione in a rather shrill, high voice. They left and when Hermione stumbled a bit, goosebumps covered her skin when Charlie caught her. They chose a more modern restaurant, but when they went inside, Hermione instantly regretted the choice.

If it hadn't been a date before, it certainly felt like one now. The music was a very fresh-sounding techno, the lighting was low, and every table felt decidedly private. As they perused the menu, Hermione could barely focus on the food because of the tension in the air.

She had never been one to handle such things well, and so she slapped her menu shut and stared Charlie down. He closed his menu gently and raised his brows at her in a manner she was becoming accustomed to seeing from him. What went on behind those pretty blue eyes? Charlie revealed none of his inner workings to her and it drove her crazy.

"Look. Things are awkward, and I'm not sure why," she began unsteadily, "But I don't want things to be awkward. I know you aren't here of your own accord, and I apologize. I also appreciate how graciously you've handled being roped into babysitting me."

Charlie felt some irritation spark in himself at Hermione's words. He looked at her now and sighed.

"It was always going to be awkward. You're my baby brother's ex-girlfriend, and I'm much older than you," he finally said, raking a hand through his hair and absently noting that his mum would be jonesing to give him a haircut when he returned. Hermione obviously bristled at his words.

"You're not that much older," she sputtered indignantly, her brown eyes flashing. "And don't you dare try to blame me for - for- for the breakup."

Charlie grinned as he watched her realize how immature her first statement had invariably made her seem, and she deflated slightly, her bare shoulders slumping. His mouth went dry as he noted - not for the first time - how smooth, pale, and entirely unlike his her skin was. Was it wrong to want to run his tongue along her smooth collarbone? He couldn't stop thinking of it. "I know you're just being protective," she added, looking down at the tablecloth. "But I feel like some horrible demon any time I talk to any of Ron's family. And it wasn't that way."

She didn't need to tell him this - he had lived long enough and been through enough to know that concerning breakups there were two sides to every story. He nodded, prodding her to continue.

"Well, why don't you tell what way it was," he said gently, recognizing the hurt and conflict in her eyes. Hermione looked up at him. "Please. I'd like to know. I only know what Bill told me, and he didn't know much either."

She sighed and looked down again, her cheeks flushing as she fidgeted with the hem of the tablecloth. Hermione rarely looked unsure of herself, so seeing her look so hesitant threw him for a loop. He found himself wanting to console her, but he wasn't sure of which approach to take. He had learned to not be too sympathetic, or she might get upset and close herself off. But if he acted indifferent, she'd get angry then as well and would probably say something to incite his anger.

It occurred to him that dealing with Hermione was sort of like taming a dragon.

"I can't respect someone who cheats," she finally said, blinking rapidly, apparently at the onset of tears. "He cheated twice and I knew I'd never respect him again for it. I know he isn't evil, and I don't hate him. But...I knew I'd never be able to really trust, or respect, or love him again after that."

Hermione searched Charlie's face for a reaction, but as always, he was maddeningly closed-off. He shifted uncomfortably, looking away, and she was about to pin it to him not wishing to hear bad things about his brother when he spoke.

"I was engaged during the war," he confessed. The waiter came by, interrupting, and they ordered their drinks. Hermione was in a daze of shock - she was positivethat none of the Weasleys knew about this. The nosy busybody side of her personality - the part that thrived on others entrusting her with their deepest secrets - was practically salivating at this revelation, and the other part of her didn't want to know, because her interest seemed indecent and seemed to prove that she had a crush on him.

"But?" she prompted after the waiter had left. Charlie was fidgeting with his water glass.

"Same as your story, really. Only, it happened three times." He sighed again, looking away. She could see his jaw clenching through his skin and her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, so she curled her hands into fists. "When I came back to fight in the war, there was so much going on - I never told anyone about the engagement." He gave a sardonic laugh now and it hurt her. "Sort of glad about it, really, because I think it would've crushed Mum to know it. I was so embarrassed about it that I was rather thankful that I'd never told anyone."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione honestly. She wasn't sure why Charlie was telling her this, but she knew she was honored. He shrugged and offered a little grin.

"It was a while ago, really. I'm over it. Just saying I know how you feel. And I don't think anyone views you as evil or something." He looked at her carefully. "Probably, Mum's terribly upset that she won't have a girl like you as a daughter-in-law. You're way out of ickle Ronniekin's league, frankly."

Hermione perked up at the compliment, flushing slightly.

"Really?" She grinned at Charlie before faltering. "I'm sure you've been flooded with proposals since then; everyone knows you and Bill are the attractive ones in the family."

At that, Charlie genuinely laughed, and it was such a nice sound that she forgot to feel foolish for complimenting him so obviously.

"I haven't seen anyone since her. Only had one girlfriend."

Hermione balked.

"What? But..." she faltered as she gazed at Charlie Weasley, a new picture of his life being painted in her mind; it was a much darker image than she had ever had. She'd always pictured Charlie vaguely as a sort of jock, handsome and sure of himself, with a fantastic job and probably loads of girls flinging themselves at him. This new image was jarring and lonely.

"It never worked out," he continued with a simple shrug. Their drinks came and they toasted to Italy, but it was an uncomfortable and uncertain toast. "I suppose my point is that you're still very young. After it happened to me, I shut myself off. I became obsessive about my work, always figuring I'd deal with the whole 'true love' debacle later."

Hermione decided to ignore the comment on her age as she stared heavily at Charlie. "So, er, don't let that happen to you. Don't let yourself suddenly realize you're thirty-five and alone. Don't lose yourself in your work and as a result lose your place in the lives of the people who love you."

She might've cried, but instead she took a long swig of her drink.

"Your family misses you," she said honestly after setting her glass down. Charlie shrugged.

"I doubt it. Everyone's married off, now, with kids."

"So you don't think you'll ever...?" she let the vague question hang in the air between them.

"Doubt it. I don't even know anyone that would... well, I haven't dated in so long." He was looking uncomfortable again. "Besides, I'm boring - I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not working." He felt hesitant about talking so openly about himself, but Hermione was listening to him with a rapt attention to which he was unaccustomed. No one had ever listened to him like this, so he'd learned a long time ago to simply not bother speaking.

"Me too. If I don't have work, I'll create it - embark on some new project. Drove Ron nuts and was probably more problematic for us than the whole cheating thing," Hermione sighed in resignation. Charlie was smiling again. His attention warmed her like the sun. The waiter replaced their drinks and they ordered, though Hermione for the life of her could not remember what she had ordered.

She was simply too enthralled by Charlie. It took him a few drinks to get talking, but once she had gotten him started, it hadn't stopped. Hermione was used to doing most of the talking with most people she knew, so this new dynamic was uncomfortable, but not necessarily in a bad way. She wanted to learn more about Charlie, and every little factoid he gave her was just another tidbit that left her wanting more.

He'd had a crush on Tonks in first year at Hogwarts. He had a tattoo of a dragon - Norwegian Ridgeback, naturally - across his chest that Hermione was getting more and more urgent to see with every passing drink. He'd briefly had an earring, copying Bill, but after a bad day at work had decided it was too hazardous for his occupation. Bill was the only family member he was close to, although he'd offered Percy a place to stay during his estrangement. He liked rain. He preferred smart girls and had no patience for wilting beauties.

Slowly, the mystery that was Charlie Weasley was coming together.

"I've never talked this much," admitted Charlie sheepishly after they had paid the bill and were drunkenly venturing off home. His face felt too warm.

"You should talk more. You're very interesting," said Hermione earnestly as they walked along the river, reveling in the warm night air. Charlie sniggered.

"So says the girl who's interested in everything," he said dryly. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? It's rude to ramble and I've done nothing but."

No one ever asked her about herself - she supposed it was because she was usually talking enough as it was. Her face flushed with pleasure at being asked about herself, and she was unable to stop a smile.

"I'll probably die alone with nothing but my cats," she said, and in spite of herself she was grinning. Charlie was laughing again.

"I doubt that."

"Why? I'm a bossy know-it-all with bad hair," she said frankly.

"Well, yes," Charlie conceded slowly, "But you know, Ron's not the only Weasley who's fancied you..."

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she stopped in her tracks, gaping at Charlie. Was he saying...? He couldn't be...

Charlie turned to her, an unlikely roguish grin on his lips.

"When Perce was staying with me, he told me he was jealous of Ron for his relationship with you," he confided in a low voice. Hermione gasped.

"No! Percy?"

"The very same."

It was so ridiculous that Hermione found herself giggling, and soon Charlie joined in. "I suppose he fancied you for your strict nature. He loves rules, you know."

"Librarian fetish, probably," Hermione agreed mildly. They'd returned to the hotel now, and she locked the door behind her. For some reason, neither of them flicked on the lights. Charlie went to the balcony and opened the doors, letting in a rush of warm, dry air, and Hermione joined him in looking out over the city. "Why do you do this every night?"

Charlie was shocked.

"You noticed?" If she had noticed him doing that, had she noticed him staring at her every night? Heat of humiliation crept into his cheeks and ears.

"Of course. You're not exactly quiet, moving around, you know."

They were silent and Hermione wondered if he had forgotten her question when he spoke again.

"Just thinking about how strange it all is."

"It all? What all?"

"Everything. Life. Time. Family. Love."

"It is strange," she agreed mildly. They each leaned on the railing and their arms brushed. "I'd spent so much of my life thinking I was in love with Ron that now I sort of...don't know how to be," she confessed. "It kept me up at night, thinking how strange it was that I had once had such an intense connection with this person, for so long, and then all of a sudden...I didn't have it anymore."

"And you couldn't remember what it was like before," Charlie agreed quietly.

The mirror-images of their lives were haunting. In Hermione, Charlie had found a kindred spirit that he had honestly not expected at all. The attraction to her that had been building for a week had reached its peak, and now he looked at Hermione. He could tell himself that it was the alcohol making him talk, but if he were honest he could admit that Hermione had thrown him a line, and he was pulling on it now. "Ron's an idiot for letting you go," he said in a low voice. A shudder rippled through Hermione and she turned to him with wide eyes.

"He just...didn't understand me. And I didn't understand him," she said.

They were staring at each other now. Charlie found himself grinning as he searched her face for confirmation that he could go ahead with what he wanted to do. The interest she had for everything - even him - made him feel braver.

"I might have a bit of a thing for the librarian type," he admitted cautiously, though inside his heart was pounding so hard that if he released the railing, his hands would be trembling.

"I might have been hoping you would..." The possibilities hung in the small space between them as they looked at each other.

Hermione concluded that things had been awkward because this had been inevitable. Since Charlie had made the first move, she compromised and leaned in, though she had never initiated a kiss like this before. Their lips met in uncertainty, but as she had suspected, Charlie had an inner confidence that shone through now as he wound his fingers in her hair, pulling her closer. She could taste the sharp sweet tang of gin in his mouth and could smell the soap and aftershave on his skin.

His chapped lips were rough against hers as she guided him into the dark room, the warm wind still soothing their skin. She stumbled and his strong hands gripped her upper arms, steadying her.

It was mutually understood that they were reaching the point of no return, but neither motioned to stop. The unexpected understanding was something they had each craved for too long to stop now. Hermione splayed her hands on his firm chest, but the emotional connection she was feeling overrode the purely physical desire that she'd felt since the moment she'd seen him. She clumsily unbuttoned his shirt, her insecurities stopping her from moving faster, and she pulled away.

"I've only been with one other person." She could not bring herself to say that his younger brother had taken her virginity, and she was sure Charlie was grateful that she had not phrased it that way.

"Me too," he confessed, and that was the last obstacle in her way. She ripped open the rest of his shirt, the buttons making little clicks on the wooden floor as the rustle of crisp fabric met their ears. Charlie helped her as he struggled out of the shirt and tossed it aside before moving his hands to her waist and untucking her black silky shirt from her pencil skirt.

His rough, calloused fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and moved tenatively along her skin as he pressed a singular kiss to her jawline. The room felt warmer now and her breathing was becoming embarrassingly ragged as he pushed her up against the wall quite suddenly.

"Are you sure?" he breathed against her neck. The heat that shot straight to her groin at the roughness of his voice, leaving damp heat there, was answer enough for her. She knew she wanted Charlie, but what if this was just a one-time thing?

Well, what if it is? Her more careless inner voice crowed. Sadly, she knew she'd never be the type to ever be able to enjoy a one-night stand...somehow, she couldn't imagine Charlie enjoying them either, even though prior to this trip she would've pegged him as the love-em-and-leave-em type, based on his looks. She almost wanted to laugh, now, at how utterly wrong that had been.

"H-how will things be afterward?" she asked hesitantly. She felt him exhale; his breath was hot on her neck and sent goosebumps along her skin.

"Awkward, probably. I'm sure Ron still loves you."

His words hung in the air.

"So...this isn't just a one-time thing?" she tried again, hope sparking within her.

"...I don't want it to be."

"I don't want it to be either."

Instead of waiting for him, she pressed her lips to his collarbone as she raked her nails along his flat abdomen, enjoying the coarse curls there. Charlie was pure masculinity in a way Ron never would be, and even though she knew it was unfair to compare them, she couldn't resist. Ron had been lanky, but he'd never have a fantastic physique - he loved sitting around, playing chess, and eating far too much for that - and his tummy had always been a bit soft.

Charlie's voice was deeper, too. When she pulled his tee shirt off and kissed his chest and let her fingers slip in the waistband of his jeans, the groan was a deeper sound, and frankly more arousing than Ron's whine had been. She traced the lines of his dragon tattoo as she had been wanting to do all evening.

Charlie seemed to lose his hesitation, for after roughly yanking her silk shirt over her head, he had grasped her hips and pinned her against the wall, kissing her fiercely. Somehow her skirt became bunched around her hips and she was wrapping her legs around his waist as his tongue slid against hers. She could feel the heat emanating from his groin and was embarrassed to note that it was making her even wetter.

His kisses were hard and fierce - she was positive that there were going to be serious marks in the morning. She pushed away from the wall and he carried her over to the bed, pinning her against it as they each shimmied up to the pillows, gasping for air.

He effortlessly slid between her legs and guided one leg around his hips again. His calloused strong hands gripped her thighs almost painfully, in stark contrast to how he had begun gently kissing her face. She supposed that neither of them had ever experienced truly satisfying intimacy; this intensity was alarming but incredibly pleasing.

Charlie trailed kisses down her neck and between her breasts. She wanted to cover up how hard her nipples had gone at his hot breath, but she couldn't find the coordination to do so. All Hermione could do was writhe against him, pushing her head back into the pillows and arching her back as his lips closed over one hardened peak, his tongue moving against it through the lace of her bra. She whimpered and wound her fingers in his hair, wishing she could give him some of the pleasure he'd already given her.

He continued pressing kisses to her skin as he moved down her body, finally pausing between her legs to hike her skirt up further. Hermione froze.

"Y-you don't have to; I know men don't like doing that-oh." Her words were abruptly cut off as he kissed her through her knickers, and then all she could do was close her eyes and sigh in pleasure. When he slid her knickers down her hips, she didn't even protest. His tongue flicked against her clit, causing her to seize up quite suddenly.

"Is this okay?" She could feel him beginning to press a finger to her entrance, and she moaned in reply. He kissed her inner thigh as he pushed a finger inside of her, moving it in a come-hither motion tantalizingly slowly.

"Very okay," she gasped. He moved up her body again and sucked her other nipple through her bra as he moved his finger in and out of her body agonizingly slowly. Her bra was luckily front-close and he opened it. The rush of air combined with anticipation hardened her nipples painfully and she embarrassingly whimpered again, arching her back further. Charlie smirked at her before brushing his lips over the pink buds. It wasn't enough and only frustrated her, but he pressed a kiss to her lips just as he added a second finger inside of her. In this position, she could feel his hardness against her leg through his slacks, and it only served to heighten her desire.

When his thumb brushed her clit again, her orgasm hit her so suddenly that she gasped loudly. A shudder of pleasure rippled through her body, arousing Charlie further. After she had recovered, Hermione rolled on top of him, shooting him a tentative smile before moving down his body, her breasts brushing against his bare torso and earning a groan from him.

She was nervous, but too aroused to be affected by it. She kissed down his torso just as he had done for her, and unbuttoned his pants with frantic fingers. His arousal was evident through his shorts. The sight of Ron's erection had always embarrassed but flattered her - this was different. It was as though she had never come, considering the renewed wave of desire at seeing the evidence of Charlie's. She met his blue eyes again, and, without breaking the eye contact, slid down the waistband of his shorts. Charlie drew in a sharp breath but didn't stop her, and without hesitating, Hermione wrapped her lips around him.

She had always thougth that doing this might make her feel degraded or slutty, but instead it made her feel sexy and pleased to know she could make him feel as good as he had made her feel. After a few moments, Charlie tugged her away. His eyes looked darker, almost navy, with desire, as he flipped on top of her. Hermione hastily helped him out of his pants, and in the darkness he fumbled for his wand, muttered a contraceptive spell, and then grasped her hips again before driving into her.

He was much thicker than she was used to, and for a moment it was painful. Charlie groaned in pleasure, dropping his head beside hers, as he stayed still. Hermione encouragingly wrapped her legs around his hips again, her breathing hard and fast again.

"Sorry. You're so tight. Don't wanna come yet," he murmured in her ear, his voice ragged. It sent shivers of pleasure all along her body, and teasingly she tightened herself around him. "Naughty little swot," he teased in reply before he started moving again. The friction wasn't quite enough, and Hermione rolled them over so that she was on top.

She placed her hands on his chest, loving the way his muscles tensed as he pushed up against her. Her hair fell in her face. She knew it was becoming even more wild and frizzy from the humidity of the room, but she also somehow knew Charlie would find it sexy.

He pulled her down, holding her hips against his, as he kissed her hard and breathlessly before his orgasm hit. She could feel him spilling inside of her, and the feeling was enough to make her second orgasm hit suddenly. She couldn't help but murmur his name, trembling all over, before collapsing against him.

"Ron is going to kill me." Charlie paused. "And now, he's actually capable of doing it, what with being an Auror and all," he added thoughtfully. Hermione couldn't focus on his words; she was too comfortable at the moment, with her leg slung across his hips and her head resting on his chest. She yawned and snuggled closer.

"He won't kill you - if he even attempted, I'd kill him first," she replied vaguely before shutting her eyes. Charlie's chest rumbled with his chuckling at her, and she smiled to herself at the feel of his fingers in her hair.

"We can't tell everyone right away," he continued to worry. "We'll have to show people it's real. It'd be unfair to just spring it on them."

"Do you ever think of yourself?" Hermione marveled. "Easy solution - you start coming to Sunday dinners at the Burrow."

Charlie didn't reply; he simply gazed out at the early morning horizon. The contentment he was feeling at the moment eclipsed his worries about his family. As he pictured Sunday dinners at the Burrow, he found his worries drifting away. If he started feeling left out...he'd only need look in Hermione's direction.

They weren't sure how this was going to work, but somehow, they were both positive that it would.