AN: I'm working through a list of 90 prompts with this, including several in each chapter. I found the prompt list on LiveJournal, but I'm not putting it on my profile because it's not exactly child-friendly. If you want the list, PM me and I'll send it to you.

It was wrong, that something like this could make her feel this way. She'd always been such a good girl, hard-working and serious, never getting involved in the frivolity that surrounded her in the dormitory she'd shared with her classmates, back at school. If it hadn't been for Ron and Harry, and their collective inability to get through a school year without adventure and danger, she'd probably have forever been remembered as the boring know-it-all who always had her head in a book. As it was, she'd become known as a heroine, without intending or wanting to be.

Incapable of lustful emotions, she'd once thought herself, sexless and doomed to be the eternal spinster, living alone apart from a cat. Then she'd met Charlie Weasley, or, to be more precise, they'd run into each other for the first time in years, got talking over a drink or five in the Leaky Cauldron, and wound up in bed together. She vaguely remembered them kissing in the bar, then she'd downed another drink for courage and accepted his offer. Actually, how had they got to that point... Ah yes, that was it. She'd complained that she'd never had sex, never felt the urge to, and wondered what she was missing. He'd offered to show her exactly what she was missing, and she'd been drunk enough and lonely enough to say yes. After that, her memory blurred too much to be at all sure of what had taken place.

She'd woken up the next morning to a terrible hangover and aches in unusual places. Then she'd rolled over to see an unruly mop of red hair and a freckled arm over the top of the covers. There was a moment's panic, in which she thought she'd ended up in bed with Ron, before she realised it was his older brother. Relief gave way to embarrassment as he opened his eyes, smiling at her.

"Good morning, Hermione."

"Did we... I mean... I know we did... but..."

"Hermione Granger, speechless? There's something I thought I'd never see." He stretched out with one arm, taking her hand in his. "You don't remember, do you?"

Too embarrassed to speak, or even look at him, she shook her head, her eyes tightly closed.

His fingers brushed her hair back, tucking the wild curls behind her ear. "I didn't take advantage of you, Hermione. I wouldn't do that. You do know that, don't you?" He sounded worried now, probably expecting her infamous temper to kick in, causing her to lash out at him.

"I know I said yes, Charlie. I just don't remember what happened next." It took a lot of effort, but she forced her eyes open, and found him watching her closely.

"Do you regret it?"

"That I said yes? No, I don't regret it. What I regret is having had so much to drink that I lost my memory of it all."

He smiled, a wickedly tempting grin. "Well then, I can definitely do something about that."

As he kissed her, it was as though her headache receded, the throbbing in her temples was definitely less severe. For a moment, she worried that she hadn't brushed her teeth yet, but he didn't seem to care as his tongue gently teased her lips open. He was unbelievably gentle with her, as though it was her first time all over again that morning. His fingers teased and stroked her almost to the point of climax, his lips kissing her neck, her collarbone, her breasts.

"Please..." She didn't know what she was asking for, didn't care. She'd never known she could feel this way before, had never realised she was missing out on something so amazing.

"Please what, Hermione?" She couldn't get the words out, even though she wanted to speak to him. "Do you want me to fuck you?" The words sent a shiver down her spine - it was language she'd have complained about, normally, but here, now, with him, it was doing strange things to her. She wanted him, she realised, wanted him to talk to her like that. Breathless, she nodded, clutching tightly at his arms, her fingers digging into old scars on his skin.

He'd entered her slowly, so carefully that it hadn't hurt at all. Maybe it had last night, but somehow she didn't think so. Not if this was anything to go by.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That had been six months ago, and as time had gone on, she'd only wanted him more. Wasn't desire supposed to diminish with time, she'd read somewhere? Regardless, it hadn't. He was more experienced than she was, that went without saying, but she'd been an enthusiastic student, prepared to try anything at least once.

AN: Yes, I know I've stopped at a bit of a cliffhanger, but I definitely have plans for this story, and for this couple.