Ministry Function by Luvscharlie
The key turned in the door and Lavender struggled to get through the wards that she had set on their flat before leaving. She was dressed in evening attire as she entered, face red and furious. Charlie attempted to follow her through the door, but she raised her wand and promptly slammed it in his face.
"You know," he shouted from just outside the door, "I'm going to need my nose in the future."
That was it! She pulled the door back, flinging it open with such force that it bounced off the wall and Charlie took a step back. "And what will you need it for? To go sniffing after every slag at the next Ministry function we attend together?"
The corner of his mouth turned up, and she only just resisted taking her handbag and walloping him up side his pretty little head. Smug bastard.
"Don't you think you might be overreacting just a bit?" He took a step across the threshold and she dug her spike heel into the top of his foot. He howled as he hopped around. "A LOT! You are overreacting a lot. Fuck."
Lavender attempted to slam the door, but Charlie pushed forward with his shoulder preventing her from shutting him out.
"Fine. Have it your way," she said. "I'm going for a bath and then to bed."
"I could join—"
Lavender's glare silenced him.
"Nevermind. Bad idea, I see."
She hated Ministry functions. They were always terrible ordeals, but tonight had been especially difficult. She felt overly large and clumsy with the protrusion of her pregnant belly leading her way into any room. Still, this function was a fund raiser for the Romanian Dragon Reserve and it meant a lot to Charlie that they attend. So, she'd braved the dress and the spiky heels, doing what she could to look her best, for all the good it had done.
Lavender made her way up the stairs to the loo, her nerves stretched thin after an evening with catty women fawning over her husband. Why did he have to be so bloody charming? That Spinnet bitch was practically sitting in his lap as she listened to him spin a yarn about his glory days in Romania. And though Charlie had denied it, she felt certain that Penelope Clearwater had grabbed his thigh beneath the table. At that point, she had demanded to be taken home.
She wanted nothing more now than to take a warm bath and climb beneath the clean linens on her bed. She realised too late that it would have been helpful to have Charlie unzip the back of her dress, but she wasn't about to ask him for assistance now. She used her wand and simply vanished the dress away, hoping to never see the thing again. Then, she turned the taps and sprinkled a liberal amount of her favourite smelling bubble bath into the tub. The fragrant bubbles foamed up as she slid beneath the water and into what must surely be something akin to Heaven on earth.
It was funny how something as simple as warm water and sweet smelling bubbles could change a person's outlook so drastically. It seemed to quite literally wash away her troubles and a peaceful calm settled over her to replace the ugly, green-eyed monster that had ridden upon her back for most of the evening. Hormones, they truly were a bitch.
Lavender leaned back, her neck braced against the edge of the tub, her chin just bobbing above the surface of the warm water. She closed her eyes and heard the click of the door latch that signaled Charlie's entry. She remained as she was, rather than acknowledging his presence, heard his footsteps approach, then he stopped and retreated once more as though he'd changed his mind. When she cracked open and eye, she found herself alone once more.
The water grew chilled far too quickly for her liking, and her pregnancy made it difficult to warm the water safely whilst she was immersed in it. Unfortunately, it was far more trouble than it was worth to get out (a task in and of itself), re-warm the water, and crawl back into the tub, only to repeat the process fifteen minutes later when it had once more gone cold.
She chose instead to towel off, wrap herself in her dressing gown and climb onto her large, comfortable bed. She retrieved her trashy romance novel from the bedside table and was just losing herself to the deep blue sea, ships and rogue pirates when Charlie entered with a cup of tea. "Peace offering?" He gave her a smile filled with contrition, though she doubted that it was genuine. Charlie could charm the feathers off a Hippogriff and he knew it. That smile had served him well throughout the years.
Not tonight! "Hmph."
"Not going to make this easy, are you?" When she failed to answer, he continued on. "You're a right stubborn bird, you know that?"
"Hmph," she said, and turned another page.
Charlie made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat and began to shed his clothes, then climbed onto the bed beside her, leaning in over her shoulder to peer at the pages of her book. "And what is Captain Nefarious up to tonight?" he asked, indicating her book as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
"Annoying his wife."
"I see." She heard him click his tongue in irritation. "It would appear that Captain Nefarious and I have something in common this evening."
"I'm glad to know you're not so thick that you missed the implication. I'd started to think that subtleties were lost on you after this evening and the scores of birds throwing themselves at you, while you sat there happily lapping up the attention like a starving kitten."
"A kitten? A kitten? Couldn't you at least compare me to a tiger or a--?"
"No." She turned another page without looking up, though she really couldn't say she was absorbing the words on the page either. It was simply easier to ignore him if she pretended to be interested in something else. Charlie Weasley was a difficult man to ignore.
"Come on, Lavender. You can't be mad at me forever."
"Oh, can't I? Do you remember the last time we went to a Ministry function?"
"I remember rearranging the face of that bloke who wouldn't keep his hands off you and—oh! Erm, I guess, I see where you're going with that analogy."
Lavender didn't respond. She put her book aside, fluffed her pillow and settled in for the night. Charlie put out the candles and turned to her with a question. "Will it help at all if I apologise?"
"It certainly will not hurt."
Charlie brought his hand to rest on the protrusion of her stomach, and she felt their child shift and wiggle beneath the weight of his touch. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His fingers climbed over the swell of her belly, working their way up. His hand reached around to cup her breast and his lips connected with hers.
She pushed him gently away. "It doesn't help quite that much," she said, removing his hand from her breast. "Nice try though. Good night, Charlie."
He chuckled good naturedly into the dark of their room. "You can't blame a bloke for trying. Good night, Lavender." He spooned against her and they settled in for the night.
Fin.
A/N: Originally Written for National Charlie Month at the Live Journal community Flames_n_tats, where my prompt was "He who is not jealous is not in love."—St. Augustine.
