A/N: This one-shot was born from an idea I saw on the Harry Potter FanFiction reddit boards, in which Voldemort and the Death Eaters attack Bill and Fleur's wedding, with only Bill, Charlie, Hermione, and Ginny managing to survive. Credit goes to InquisitorCOC for coming up with this idea. I hope you enjoy.
Paris
The Bateaux Mouches excursion drifted quietly across the Seine, carrying with it small ripples the river eventually swallowed whole. Hermione leaned into Charlie's side quietly, comforted when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They passed by the Grand Palais, its glass barrel-vaulted roof an icy blue. Hermione thought it looked like a winter fortress. The flag of France atop it danced in a chilly breeze.
"Wasn't the top of that thing red a couple of nights ago," Charlie asked.
"I think so," Hermione nodded. "But I like the blue better. It fits the season and all."
He scoffed. "Like we should have another reason to feel cold."
"You still are, are you?" When he didn't reply, she said, "Well, you shouldn't be. Two Hot-air charms should've done the trick. Plus, you have this on," she gently tugged the sleeve of his navy blue hoodie.
"I'm warm enough," he said tersely, making her grin. "But you have to admit it is pretty cold tonight. The rain might've had something to do with it but still."
She looked over at him, their faces close together. However, she found she didn't quite mind this. "I forgot you were so used to being around those fire-breathing dragons of yours."
"And I miss them very much. They, at least, kept me warm in the winter."
"Forgive me then for not being as acquainted as them to meet your needs."
"Trust me," he said, "I have needs they couldn't even begin to fulfill."
"I'd imagine." She turned away from his smile, finding it to be infectious. Resuming the comfortable position of resting her head against his shoulder, they were bathed in light bleeding out of the arched windows of the Musée d'Orsay. The clock towers on the building's façade told Hermione it was later than she expected.
"You tired," he asked her.
"No," she answered. "You?"
"Not at all," he shook his head. "In fact, I don't think I ever felt more awake since leaving than I do now."
"So you're ready to go back?"
"Yes and no. Part of me is looking forward to it but another part of me wants to stay."
"Stay?" She picked up her head to consider him. "You lost me."
He looked away from her as he said, "You ever have a dream that was so good you were angry at yourself for waking up?"
She was quiet for a moment, fingering the necklace around her neck. She barely registered she was doing so. "Yeah, I have."
"That's what I feel like right now. That Paris has been the dream and England is the reality. And that tomorrow, we'll all be waking up."
"But we can't stay asleep forever."
Charlie looked back at her and said, "I guess not."
As their boat took them by the Institut de France, Hermione stared up at its large dome – she found it captivating. In fact, she admired the entire institute thinking its two rounded wings resembled a sparrow about to take flight. She'd sometimes hog a bench on the Pont des Arts bridge and simply stare at the building, forgetting about the book she brought with her to read.
"And how about you," Charlie asked. "You ready to go back?"
"Kind of but I'm more worried than anything," she said.
"About what?"
"Everything," she laughed once though it was void of any humor. "We're literally going back into Voldemort's hands. And it's by our own intuition we're doing so. I don't know if we're being brave or foolish."
"So you're having second thoughts?"
"No, we have to go back no matter what. It's just that nothing can stop me from having more nightmares of what could potentially happen to you, Ginny, or Bill. That's not to mention Remus who's been in England this entire time weathering the storm."
"More nightmares? You still have some of the wedding?" He looked concerned.
"I don't think those will ever go away," she told him quietly looking down at her lap. "It was just so horrible."
"Then we'll use that as leverage when we go back. Not that I have a problem taking down Death Eaters anyway but it'll put things into perspective and make things that much easier."
"Will it be easy though?"
"We have a plan," he countered.
"Unfortunately, having a plan doesn't guarantee anything. It may make things more complicated."
Charlie's brows pulled together. "Why would you say that?"
"Because we really don't know what it's like over there. It could be completely different from what Remus has told us. And if it is, will our plan still work? Probably not."
"You suggesting he hasn't painted the whole picture?"
She shrugged. "More in that it's a difficult picture to paint."
"Too many colors?"
Hermione looked over and saw him fighting down a smile.
"Under Voldemort's rule, not enough." He let a grin escape, it taking years off his age.
Notre-Dame then loomed, the slits in the North and South towers like two pairs of tall, skinny eyes watching the Bateaux Mouches swim closer. The West Rose window haloed the tips of nearby trees while the portals of the Virgin, Last Judgment, and St. Anne could be seen below the branches. Hermione remembered visiting Notre-Dame a couple of weeks ago with Charlie. It was a Sunday; the weather was brittle but the skies were blue (what they would soon learn was a rarity for Paris winters). After admiring the Point zéro des routes de France reference, they climbed the three-hundred and eighty-seven steps of the North tower, it enclosed in a tight, stone stairwell. They then took a narrow walkway to the South tower and up a corkscrew staircase to the viewing platform atop it.
They didn't say much then. The mere presence of the other was more than enough. And though it may have been uneventful, it one of Hermione's favorite memories of her time in Paris. It was intimate and the first time her feelings for Charlie Weasley bloomed into something more than friendship. She never told him this and figured she never would.
"It seems like a lifetime ago since the wedding, doesn't it?" Charlie asked. "Which is strange because a lot hasn't happened since then."
"Maybe not for us but I'm positive you'd get a different answer from those in England. We were relatively safe here."
"Not without its costs. These past months have done a number on Bill."
"It's cruel," Hermione said. "He'd been married to Fleur for less than an hour when the attacked happened. Then she died along with most of the others at the wedding, including her entire family. And we've been staying in the Delacour's Paris residence on top of that." Hermione closed her eyes against an avenue of wind, one of her hands on Charlie's knee. "Bill's strong for keeping it all together."
Bill was the one that pulled Hermione off of a dead Ron and the one that kept Ginny from tearing after Voldemort when Harry had been killed. He was the one that helped Charlie fend off a Death Eater and he was the one that apparated them all away to safety. He locked Hermione and Ginny in a room after his sister physically attacked him and Hermione had thrown hot tea in his face when they realized the Anti-Disapparition Jinx had been placed to prevent them from going back.
They then destroyed the room they were in, looking as if a Muggle bomb had detonated inside. And after calming down, they held onto each other, even when they heard Charlie threatening to kill Bill with his bare hands if the rest of their family back home was dead. But in all of the madness and chaos of that first night, Bill was the one to maintain a calm demeanor, the only calm demeanor, even though he was hurting too. It took a few months for Hermione to realize how tough Bill was to let them vent their anger and frustration at him though he never had the chance to, and he never did afterwards. She was in awe of him.
"He feels like he's obligated to, especially with dad now gone," Charlie said. "Kinda like how it's his responsibility to look after the three of us, or so he says."
Hermione picked up her head and looked at him. "Even me?"
"Why not you?" Puzzled, creases ran like plow lines across his forehead.
"Because you're all siblings," she shrugged. "I'm not."
"He considers you one. Ginny, too."
Hermione noticed he left himself out of the equation. "Do you?"
Charlie stared over at her, his sapphire blue eyes like that of the Grand Palais, before taking her hand off his knee and entwining his fingers in hers. "Something like that," he told her.
For some reason she couldn't explain, Hermione didn't particularly like Charlie's answer. After all, if she wasn't honest about her feelings with him, why should she expect the same in return? But then again, she initially was confused about what she really did feel for him. She most certainly enjoyed the time they spent together, and even more so when it just the two of them alone. She found him to be funny and charming, traits she was blind to when she had first met him and the times thereafter. He was soft-spoken, though with an explosively Weasley temper, and showed genuine care for both Bill and Ginny. However, it was their trip to Notre-Dame that confirmed Hermione had developed something else for him, something deeper.
"But I know Bill's itching to get back," Charlie said. "I think if we waited another day, he'd lose it. He's kept all of his anger bottled up inside him the whole time we've been here and he's ready to let it loose. I can see it in his eyes."
"I hope that anger doesn't cloud his vision. We need him. We all need each other."
"You're talking those Horcruxes, aren't you?" When Hermione nodded, he asked, "And you really think Bill has a chance to get rid of 'em?"
"I don't know," she shook her head. "There isn't much information I've been able to find on their creation or destruction. Harry, Ron, and I," her heart panged with hurt mentioning their names, "never got really far in discussing them. The only thing we'd been sure of is there's more than one. Since Bill was a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, there's potential he knows how to get rid of them even if he's never heard of them before."
"That's not much to go on."
"I know," she agreed. "But we at least have a lead on the locket."
"The woman with the toad face, right? And the ugly bow on her head?"
"Dolores Umbridge," Hermione said. "She's the Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission." Charlie visibly tensed. "And it was by mere chance we found she's in possession of the locket. I mean, Remus has only been able to sneak the Daily Prophet to us about once a week with the Floo Network being watched and all. But she's our first target."
"Confident in your plan," asked Charlie.
"You're not?"
He seesawed his head side to side. "It's never been tested. You said so yourself you're not sure if it's going to work."
"Now you sound like me."
Charlie laughed at this, a sound Hermione had grown to like.
"Regardless if it works or not, we know where one of the Horcruxes is. All that remains is finding the rest and destroying them."
"Sounds simple enough," Charlie yawned, stretching his arms overhead. "I mean, at least we know we won't be bored over there."
"Stop it," Hermione reprimanded lightly, backhanding his stomach.
He rubbed the area she hit, smiling, and said, "You gonna let Remus in on this?"
She nodded. "I think so but I'm not sure how much he'll know, if anything."
"Then he can help us hunt them down. The more pairs of eyes the better."
"I'm more concerned about the more ears that hear, the greater the chances are for the plan to fail. All it takes is one drop of Veritaserum."
"That's only if we get caught. And if I remember correctly, that wasn't on the itinerary."
"I don't think many things are but they're bound to happen, regardless."
"I know you're worried but you don't have to be."
"And why's that?"
Charlie leaned in and gently kissed her temple. "Because you're gonna be with me," he said quietly. Hermione's body tingled as wasps of electricity stung her all over. Her heart fluttered and then went airborne. She felt weightless and her temple where he had kissed her was forever marked as private property. His words were like a blanket on a cold night, tucking her in and protecting her. When she looked over at him, his eyes were like a hungry predator daring anyone or anything foolish enough to do her harm for he'd already staked his claim.
For the many signals her mind and body were trying (and failing) to process in a coherent manner, she replied, "I'll have to remember that."
He nodded his head once at her as if happy she understood.
Excitement from fellow passengers drew their attention away from each other and to the Eiffel Tower. A thunderstorm of cameras flashed as a plump, middle-aged woman led an unnecessarily large stampede to one side of the boat to get a better shot. And while others stood on chairs, Charlie and Hermione were the only two left seated.
Hermione had seen it several times before, taking a lift to the top for half of them, and was left more and more unimpressed with each visit. She didn't know why she felt like this and simply figured this fell under the once was enough category. She knew some Paris natives thought the same as she heard two of them call it an attraction touristique idiote.
"Can you promise me something," Charlie asked, shifting behind her.
"It depends," she replied, looking at him.
"When this thing with Voldemort and the Death Eaters is over, will you come back to Paris with me?"
His face serious, she asked, "Why?"
"I don't think we've been able to properly enjoy it, that's why. We always knew we were going to go back and we've put a lot of time and effort to do so. And sure, there've been plenty of good times here but it was never going to last. I think you and I have been a bit cheated."
"And what about Bill and Ginny?"
"Them too, but they're my brother and sister."
Hermione scoffed. "What does that mean?"
"Whatever you want it to," he shrugged.
"You're not bitter they didn't want to come with us, are you?"
"Actually, I'm more relieved than anything. I was afraid they'd ruin my last night here."
"And I'm not?"
"Definitely not," he shook his head. "In fact, you're making it much better."
"But not perfect?" Hermione mentally held her breath, waiting for his answer.
"Well, if you agree to come back with me then it'll be perfect."
"We don't know when this'll all be finished," Hermione said. "It could take months…even years." She hoped it wouldn't last longer than it needed to but wars have never taken time into consideration, and probably never would.
"I know, I know," he nodded, "but it'd be something to look forward to when this is all finished."
"Only to take this same trip again?"
"You don't like the Seine," Charlie asked.
"I do," she said, "but this is our third time on the Bateaux Mouches. And we've been all around Paris, too."
"So what're you suggesting?" He looked amused.
"Somewhere different," she replied. "Mont-Saint-Michel, Château de Beynac and the Dordogne Valley, even Rocamadour."
"Places you and your parents wanted to visit," Charlie said.
Hermione felt her brows shoot upward. "You remember that? I told you a couple of months ago, didn't I?"
"I remember everything you tell me," he said softly without meeting her eyes. "If it's important to you, it's important to me."
Surprised as she was, Hermione was more touched than anything. The trips she took to France with her parents meant a lot to her, more so now since they were both in Australia, completely unaware they even had a daughter. But it was on their previous stay in Paris her mum expressed interest in venturing to other areas of the country, pitching the idea that there has to be more to France than just Paris. And with that, her dad purchased a guide book that explored the deeper pockets of France with the promise they'd venture to distant locales upon their return. Unfortunately, they never did go back, but their daughter did. And though she wasn't with her parents now, she was glad she was with Charlie.
"That means a lot," was her reply. "Thank you." Just as a moment ago he couldn't look her in the eyes, she felt the same with him now. That's why she stared down at her lap instead.
After a rather awkward silence between the two, the noise of the other passengers deafening, Charlie broke it and said, "If that's where you want to go, then we'll do it."
Regaining the courage to look up at him, she asked, "Just you and me?"
He cocked his head to one side. "You want Bill and Ginny to come along?"
She didn't take long to think about this as she responded, "Not really."
Charlie broke into a wide grin. "Then just you and me," he confirmed.
With that promise assured, Hermione once again leaned against Charlie, he easily supporting her weight. This time, however, their contact bordered on affectionate. She supposed others on board the Bateaux Mouches might think they're lovers. And even though they weren't, she didn't really care. Feelings for Charlie were definitely there, more so than she felt for anyone before. She didn't know what was to come of it, if anything, but for now she was content to let it be.
With the Eiffel Tower now behind them, it began to rain again.
"That was some trip you two took. You were gone for nearly three hours," Ginny said the moment Hermione entered their room.
"After the boat tour we wandered around for a bit," Hermione explained, walking to the wardrobe she shared with Ginny and opening it up. She needed to get ready for bed.
"In the rain," Ginny asked, pointing her thumb at the skinny window at the far end of the room. The candlelight on the sill globed a roadmap of raindrops.
"We had an umbrella," Hermione shrugged, pulling down her pajamas. She tried to hide her smile remembering her and Charlie walking around the wet streets of Paris. Their bodies had huddled close together as they tried to avoid the falling water.
Ginny closed the magazine she'd been reading and gestured for Hermione to take a seat on the bed across from her. Once she did, Ginny said, "Out with it."
"Out with what," Hermione asked, pulling her knees into her chest.
"Oh, don't play silly. Do you think I'm blind? I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen you genuinely smile ever since we got here."
"I just had a good time with Charlie is all. There's nothing more to it."
"It seems like there's more to it than what you're letting on," she replied.
"Are you implying Charlie and I are more than friends?"
"A boat ride down the Seine sounds romantic enough."
"Romantic for couples, which Charlie and I are not." As Ginny made a point to roll her eyes, she said, "You and Bill should've come with us, by the way. It is our last night in Paris."
"We didn't want to interrupt quality time between you two," she said simply.
"Give it up," Hermione snapped. She was growing agitated.
"Fine, but you can't deny how close you two have gotten these past couple of months!"
"It's because he's been my training partner," Hermione defended. "You were paired with Bill, and I was with Charlie. That's it."
"No, it's how you two…interact that's different. And believe me, I'm not the only who's noticed it. Bill has too. He's probably taking the mickey out of Charlie right now."
"Poor Charlie," Hermione sighed.
"Don't feel too bad for him," Ginny waved her hand in the air. "He all but tormented Bill when he and Fleur first started dating and let's just say-,"
"I'm sure he wasn't the only one," Hermione cut across.
"-those English lessons didn't involve a lot of talking," she finished as if there had been no interruption.
"Whatever Bill and Fleur did is their business. Besides, now isn't the time to be thinking of relationships, not with us going back home tomorrow."
"You never know…sometimes feelings have a way of creeping up on an unsuspecting couple."
Hermione snorted. "And where did you learn those words from the wise from?"
Ginny ignored her and said, "Charlie's not a bad guy, you know. Of course, I don't think he's much experienced in the whole dating thing but-,"
"Charlie's never dated before," Hermione cut in again.
Ginny folded her arms across her chest as her eyes roamed upwards. She seemed to be thinking.
"I don't know, actually, but I'd imagine there was someone in Romania he fancied. He never really said much though. No one in the family knew anything except Bill." She added almost as an afterthought, "He told Bill everything."
Hermione couldn't imagine Charlie keeping to himself, especially with his family being nearly a continent away. There was also the fact he was rather good-looking: the ocean of freckles that once flooded his face had nearly all gone, the winter melting them from existence; his blue eyes were deep and his lips were full; the flaming red hair atop his head was cut short and was always tousled, as if he had run his fingers through his hair over and over; he was broad-shouldered with bulging biceps; and his thick forearms branched into callused hands.
She also had seen him without a shirt once. That was just after a shower when he stepped out of the loo with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He was fit – his pectorals and abs were well-defined, the latter of which was like the rungs of a ladder. Hermione couldn't help it; she simply stared, her mouth slightly open. She was thus mortified when Charlie called her out. Her response was to rush inside her room and lock the door. Needless to say, she and Ginny had dined on their beds that night.
"I remember Fred and George had a running bet on when Charlie was going to bring a bird home to meet the family." She smiled as if she had come across a fond memory.
"He probably would've if you guys hadn't bothered him about it. He looked about ready to put his head through a wall when your mum went on and on about him being the next in line to marry after Bill. She then pulled out a list of witches she wanted him to meet before the wedding. I felt really bad for him then."
"I'm sure he got over it," Ginny said as if she could care less. "But I know my brother and Charlie's definitely taking a liking to you."
"If he has, that's…flattering," Hermione replied. And it was if it was true. "It's just that we should instead be focused on doing what we have to do back home."
"So you wouldn't even entertain the idea of being with him?"
"And why, may I ask, are you so concerned about it?" Hermione truly wanted to know as this wasn't the first interrogation she had to endure from Ginny.
"Don't take this wrong way or anything but you've been a bit different since we came to Paris. I know what happened at the wedding had a lot to do with that," she continued in a slightly raised tone when Hermione looked cross, "and we were all affected by it, but I know you. You've been quieter, and kept more to yourself. You've been a bit closed off to me and Bill, not that we blame you. And when we came up with this plan of ours, you came up with a hundred different reasons of why it's bound to fail."
"A hundred reasons? I'm sure that's an exaggeration," Hermione said.
"Fine, ninety-nine then," Ginny corrected. This made Hermione smile. "The only one you've really opened up to is Charlie. He can get you talking and smiling like you were when you came in a couple of minutes ago. You've been all around Paris with him and sometimes worry me and Bill when you two disappear for hours at a time. It's kind of like the Hermione I remember whenever you're around him. And I like it."
Hermione hadn't thought about how much she had changed. She assumed everyone else did and she simply stayed the same. She was foolish to think that but it was hard to realize it when Bill, Charlie, and Ginny all but expected some sort of adjustment on her part after losing many loved ones at the wedding. And she anticipated the same of them. It should go without saying that Bill, Charlie, and Ginny had all changed in their own ways too. She wondered if they realized it or were ignorant of the fact just as she was.
Looking over, she saw Ginny regarding her carefully as if she was unsure of whether or not she overstepped some invisible boundary they always respected of each other. In fact, the only time that boundary had been crossed was their brief but tense argument over the Half-Blood Prince's Advanced Potion-Making textbook.
Hermione was thus grateful Ginny had been and could be honest with her.
"You sure this has nothing to do with Charlie being your favorite brother?"
Ginny visibly relaxed, making Hermione wonder if she expected some sort of confrontation, and said, "Bill's my favorite, actually."
The two laughed together.
A knock on the door had Ginny ask, "Who is it?"
"Charlie. You girls decent?"
Ginny looked at Hermione who shrugged. Standing to her feet, she opened the door.
"What's this," Ginny asked.
Hermione looked over and saw Charlie in a plain, white t-shirt and navy, plaid pajama bottoms that hugged his ankles. However, her attention was drawn to two mugs repeatedly bouncing off each other just over his shoulder.
"I thought Hermione might like a cup of hot chocolate before bed," he answered with a half-smile.
"And none for your own sister?"
"Sorry, Ginny," he said as he stepped in the room, "but if I remember correctly, you and Bill decided to stay in."
"And if I remember correctly," she began with her hands on her hips in a remarkably accurate imitation her late mother used to take, "you two left in the rain and came back in the rain. Excuse me if I don't fancy taking on a cold and a bunch of Death Eaters at the same time."
"Which is why Hermione and I deserve some hot chocolate before bed," he finished, taking a seat next to Hermione. A mug flew into her hands.
"Thanks," she said to him softly.
"It was nothing," he shrugged.
After a short pause, Ginny grumbled, "Well, I guess you two want to be alone, not that you haven't spent enough time in each other's company already tonight." As they looked over at her expectantly, she huffed and said, "You know what? I think I'll go and shower." She opened the door but before she closed it, she turned to look over her shoulder and said, "And when I get back, you," she pointed a finger at Charlie, "better be outta here. It was rude enough of you to keep me from having a cup of hot chocolate." With that, she left the room.
Hermione took a sip and asked, "Is there mint in here?"
"Just a hint," he nodded. "When we were younger, mum used to put it in all our drinks. It gives it an added kick, y'know?"
"Well, it's good."
Charlie sputtered into his drink and began choking. He thumped his chest several times as Hermione simply stared over at him as if he was a rather odd zoo animal.
His eyes watery and voice raspy, he said, "Really? That's all I get? A mediocre it's good?"
"What would you like me to say?"
"I dunno. How about it's fantastic or that's the bloody best hot chocolate I ever had?"
Amused, Hermione replied, "I think I'll stick with my original sentiment."
Sighing, he said, "You sure are hard to please."
"So I've been told," she returned and they both laughed.
As the rain whispered against the window, Charlie said, "Bill's already asleep."
"We should all be. It's getting late."
"I know but I doubt I'd be able to lie still for even a few minutes. My mind's going all these places and running through one scenario after another. I can't even think straight."
"Didn't you say a trip down the Seine would calm you down and that's why you wanted to go in the first place?"
"Yeah, well," he scratched the side of his head, "that didn't exactly go as planned."
"And why's that?"
With a small smile that didn't reach his eyes, he turned to her and said, "I guess it was the company."
Confused, she asked, "Didn't I already agree to come back with you when everything in England is all done?"
"You did," he confirmed.
"Then what's the matter?"
Setting his mug down on a nearby table, he rubbed hands over his face and let out a long breath. Hermione thought he looked rather nervous and a bit pale.
"It's just that I've been meaning to tell you something but never got 'round to it."
Hermione waited, a bit impatiently, for him to continue.
"I fancied a lot of birds before now but not as much I have you," he began. "I guess it started when we began to train. Do you remember? We'd practice spells in the morning, grab some lunch at the café down the street, go through some drills in the afternoon, and then get dinner afterwards. It was so…I dunno, domesticated, in a way. It was like you and I were part of a little family, and that's all I really wanted and needed. It all felt genuine, and for the first time in my life, I actually wanted to settle down. Not that I expect us to or anything," he quickly added, "it's just what I felt."
Hermione thought about how Ginny had, indeed, been right about her brother: he did have feelings for her. She then wondered if Charlie had given her signals before but she had been too blind to read them. If he had had, she felt ridiculous for it.
She set down her mug and without saying a word, closed the gap between her and Charlie.
A/N: Please feel free to leave a review!