Mistletoe

It all started when I was eighteen, and he was twenty-six.

Staying at the Burrow for Christmas as I always did, Head Girl and completely excited to start up a life outside of Hogwarts, experience the world, learn more then the confines that the castle walls could teach me. Sure, I had a life there. Two amazing best friends, teachers loved me and I was well respected; but I was alone.

Ron and I hadn't worked…we'd tried, we had. But I truly felt after making as much as an effort as I could that there was nothing more that could be done there, and I'd had to give up to preserve a shred of my own sanity. A Hogwarts man would never do – they all knew me as a little girl with bushy hair. In fact, I thought that's what he saw me like as well. Boy was I ever wrong…

We were staying at the Burrow, having an excellent Weasley-Potter-Granger party. Everyone was there except Bill. His job had kept him away that night, though we were all assured he'd be back the next morning. I remember how boy-like I was dressed. Jeans that barely said a praise to my legs- not that there are many praises about them. Truly, I'm not a tall girl and I always feel so miniscule around the Weasleys, except Ginny of course.

He's shorter than Ginny... I didn't notice until much later. Wearing my awful Weasley sweater, the itchy maroon one that makes me look rather fat and hides all possible womanly curves I may have, a large H embroidered right over my chest. How silly- but Mrs. Weasley was just so proud to see me in it. I had already been noogied and called 'kid' twice, thanks Fred and George. My point is – I wasn't very attractive. Hair pulled into a low bun at the nape of my neck, in fact the same as Bill's would have been, if the man were there. I had realized the only Weasley not wearing a sweater- heck even Harry was wearing one (though I suppose he's truly an honorary Weasley now) – was Charlie.

I wondered why, before I realized just how much more muscular the man is than the rest of them. Molly probably couldn't make them big enough. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt, accentuating muscles I didn't know he had. I didn't know Charlie very well, with him being seven years older than me.

I noticed something on his arm; a tattoo. A Chinese fireball that seemed to glow- magical ink, no doubt. I found myself licking my lips and had to brush it off as being truly the wine – a tattoo covering such highly freckled skin, he looked tanned, in fact, was not a turn-on, not when it was my best friend's older brother.

It was truly a celebration, I found Harry and Ginny kissing under a mistletoe sprig that seemed to follow people around the room. Everyone was drinking and talking and laughing— I was sitting next to Fred (who was making me look right foolish too). Looking down, I noticed my firewhisky was empty, and quickly jumped up to refill it, turning my back on the redheads, not remembering this was a silly thing to do— especially when George was drunk.

As I looked back, my seat was gone and the only one left was next to the man who had just made me suppress a whimper. Dammit. The strong man waved me over, and I smiled weakly and moved to sit.

"'Lo there, kiddo," he said, shifting over on the small bench to allow me enough room.

Though we were touching and just the lightest feeling, his exotic and almost smoky smell invading my senses and making me wet. Just from his scent and a light touch. I was like a little schoolgirl with a crush. In fact, that was exactly what I was. And I didn't even look good.

"Hey Charlie, how have you been? How are the dragons? Got anyone new in your life?" I managed to stammer out, forcing the questions to end there when the wheels in my brain span rapidly and I knew I must look a fool, keeping my voice as normal as I possibly could, though it was certainly an undertaking. New in your life? Could I sound like a bigger slag? I thought not.

He flashed me a soft smile, one that I imagined could turn positively wicked.

"I've been good, the dragons are biting." He showed me a fresh cut just above his horntail tattoo (merlin, the man was certainly covered in ink!), I nearly whimpered. "And no, it's hard to keep the girls 'round when you work with fire-breathing devils."

It took me a moment to understand fully what he was saying, the image of his hipbone so scarred like that still deeply implanted in my mind. Then I realized it. He was single. Charlie was single. Charlie. Was. Single.

No. It didn't mean a thing to me. It couldn't mean a thing to me! He was too old for me, he would never go for a silly child like me. I couldn't help but let my imagination wonder as to what those large calloused hands would do to me when no one was around, and I found myself subconsciously rubbing my thighs together, trying to get some of the friction I needed.

"Hermione? You okay?" A voice asked in my ear; Charlie's voice. I shivered and bit my lip, nodding slightly and not looking at him.

As he backed away slowly and a cool, empty loneliness briefly washed over me, I was able to let my eyes wander over, taking in his thin chapped lips, beautiful bright brown eyes, amazing freckles, and I almost kissed him.

'No. Hermione. You will not make a fool of yourself. He is not into you and you would be slowly let down like the child you are.' And suddenly it was my New Year's resolution to make Charlie Weasley notice me. I didn't have to wait that long.

Later that night, as we all had a bit more to drink, the mistletoe was getting a little rowdy. Flying to Ginny and Harry, everyone laughing as the two snuck away to 'go to bed' as Ginny was 'tired and needing her energy for the next day'. Hah! Luckily, the enchanted bundle of green had more or less avoided me – I shared a chaste kiss with Fred and tried to make-believe the emotion in Charlie's eyes was jealousy, that he would come and steal me away, to have me for his own. Not just laughter at watching me have to kiss Fred.

A low 'oooo' escaped the lips of Fred and George, and Ron was quick to glance away, and I found Charlie looking up. Above our heads was the mistletoe, and I was sure my heart had stopped.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss…" Fred began to chant, and George and Ron once more averted his eyes while Percy, shaking his head disapprovingly, stalked off. I looked over to Charlie, and tried to imagine lust in his eyes where I, once more, could not make out what it was. I briefly noticed that they had gone slightly darker, like he was angry but, perhaps, wanting me. Maybe… Maybe it was lust- no, it certainly was not. Biting my lip once more, my eyes closed. I felt him leaning in, and then the chapped lips were pressing against my cheek, setting me on fire, but also leaving me more than disappointed, as it seemed that was all I would be getting.

"Booo!" Cried George, or maybe it was Fred. I can't tell anymore. My eyes were still shut and my mind was too hazed over with the thought that I had almost kissed the sudden object of my affection and then instead received a little silly girl kiss. That's all I am to him.

Charlie made a face at the boy, and he was back to me, lips almost on mine. "We'll show them a kiss..." I felt him whisper before he was on me, kissing me and I was kissing back—the world had stopped and all fell silent. I was now truly on fire, trying to convince myself maybe it was passion, or maybe it was a show for the boys. But his arm, his strong muscular tattooed arm was snaking around my waist and my body was on his, one hand in his short red hair, and we were kissing. It didn't last nearly as long as I would have liked it, he backed off and it seemed as though nothing had happened, though I knew I'd have some incredible dreams that night.

"I.. I think I'm going to go to bed." I mumbled as we sat in silence far too long for my comfort. I found myself in my bed after showering and changing into warm flannel pajamas – I had no reason to look sexy and freeze my ass off next to Ginny's bed. Where the girl was I had no clue- but I doubted I'd be seeing her.

All the lights were off and I was desperately trying to get comfortable and not think about the wetness between my legs… not think about Charlie's fingers trailing beautiful designs down my stomach and touching me with those beautiful fingers of his, but it wasn't working.

Perhaps that was why I didn't hear the door open. Didn't hear the softest pad of footsteps as a figure made its way to me. If I had, maybe I'd brushed it off as Ginny. It wasn't Ginny in the least. A soft sigh slipped through the air, and suddenly I was aware of the other person crouching beside my bed. I stayed still, kept my eyes closed and prayed for them either to go away or for it to be Charlie.

"Why did I never notice you?" I heard him whisper. The husky voice, the one that still felt as though he was talking against my lips. "Even in that sweater it's obvious you've grown up to be beautiful."

I couldn't believe my ears.

"And you're so young… And you'll never be mine because… why date me? I'm bound to die sooner rather than later… I'm far too old for you." Another sigh.

It was a dream, it must be, but then the chapped lips were on my forehead.

"Goodnight, good dreams and goodbye, my sweet Hermione." He was standing, he was walking…

"Don't go." Was that me? Surely not loud enough for him to hear but- he had stopped, he was turning and he was moving back.

"You're awake.. You heard all that." Opening my eyes confirmed what I was sure was happening. He was blushing lightly and rubbing the back of his neck. "I couldn't resist- you're just so-" And I found myself silencing him with a kiss. And he was kissing back, he was sliding into the bed beside me and the covers were being pushed down – I briefly remember almost screaming for not wearing my sexy nightie- not this atrocious heavy flannel thing.

"How do you get this off?" I felt him mutter into my neck as he trailed kisses down my neck. I was biting my lip and trying hard not to groan.

"You pull..." I managed to murmur, sliding hands to his at the hem, helping him slide it over my breasts until I lay completely exposed to him.

"Shit- I should go," he said against my neck, biting and sucking and marking me as my hands held him tightly.

"Don't you dare, Charles Weasley." I still felt like a slag but I didn't care, because if I didn't feel him in me soon I would die. It was hilarious how he cringed at being called Charles.

My hands pulled off his shirt almost roughly, fingers tracing the family crest inked on his shoulder, the fireball that seemed to give off heat on his arm, and the horntail on his hip. As my fingers travelled lower to brush his erection, a low groan left my chest due to his wondering lips. I was still trying not to moan as loudly as I wished, arching my back into him and fisting a hand in his short hair, the other undoing his button and his zipper, sliding the pants off with my feet and getting rid of them as our eyes met.

I didn't want foreplay. Didn't care. Wanted him. I had done it before, Ron was an awful shag (I'm sorry, Ron. I love you like a brother- it would never work. Besides, Pansy seems to like it) and I'd never known that you could be as aroused as I was at that exact moment in time as he sucked on a nipple, calloused hands brushing over me and lighting more fires then I could dare to imagine.

"Charlie," I groaned softly as his hand moved between my thighs, feeling my wetness.

"You're so wet.. all because of me. Mm, my naughty little witch. I saw you rubbing your legs together. Luckily you didn't see me…" Was added as I caught a glimpse of him, so hard and so big and so freckled (my mind briefly wondered as to how sun had reached that particular part of his body)- it was perfect. His words were igniting me more than I would've thought possible, he was always scolded for having such a horrid mouth.

"Charlie..." I groaned softly. "If you don't… fuck me… right now… I'm going to scream!" I managed to purr through heavy breaths, chest rising and falling and my body wiggling under his, and I knew I wanted it rough, just like him. Knew he could provide. I may be young but I had done my research. Novels told you nothing about this.

A smirk crossed his handsome features and I shivered as one finger played around my entrance, sliding easily inside me. I tried to stifle a groan. He seemed pleased with what he felt and the finger was soon gone- I whimpered before I realized he was spreading my legs, lining up at my entrance and then he had thrust into me. I had never felt in more like I was in heaven. One of his hands was on my breast- I seemed to fit perfectly with him as he squeezed softly, pulled at my nipple, lips by my ear. He was still thrusting into me, and I was dying not to groan. I couldn't make noise, Ginny would surely hear me- or someone would, the house wasn't large enough for us to be spared the luxury of privacy.

"Does it excite you how they're all up in bed now? Percy in the bed beside you and Fred and George on the other? Excite you that Ginny could come back any second? Walk in on me shagging you senseless? You're going to scream my name, Hermione. They're all going to hear you…" He was growling this in my ear, I was dying at how he filled me so perfectly, just a little more than I could take and yet it was perfect. The look of pleasure currently coursing over his face was enough to drive any girl wild.

I did groan, softly into his ear, as I moved with his thrusts, hard and rough, just like him. "God yes.." My hands were on his back, clawing and scratching and I knew it would be an awful mess in the morning. One hand snaked to squeeze his arse, wondering what he would look like in the daylight, hoping I could find out.

His thrusts were faster now, pressing deeper into my core and my legs were wrapping around his waist and I knew it wouldn't be long. His thumb was moving, teasing my clit, pressing and rubbing against it in time with his thrusts and I was falling over the edge. I came with a cry of his name, not caring who heard.

Seeing stars behind my closed eyelids, still digging my nails into his back as he thrust a few times, harder into me before his orgasm hit. And it was more pleasure, it was so perfect and he thrust a few more times, slowing down, being gentle before his body was on mine. He was in me and neither of us could breathe.

"Merry Christmas, Charlie," I whispered as I noticed it was ten past twelve. "Merry Christmas, Mione. Merry Christmas indeed…"