The High Stakes of Gambling - Harry Potter
Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Hermione Granger
Rating: T (Mild language)
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Charlie Weasley always had been a simple man. There were very few things he loved, but what he did care about, he cared for with every fiber of his being. Dragons, for instance, were one of his most important devotions. As a dragon keeper, he spent his life surrounded by fire and scales, creatures more deadly than even the sharpest of claymores or the heaviest of blunt axes. Each dragon needed a keeper able to understand every idiosyncrasy, physically fit enough to reign them down, and so forth, qualities Charlie possessed in abundance. He loved his job, never could do anything else.
His family certainly held his love, no matter the crazy things they did or whatever endeavors they caught themselves up in. He'd do anything at the drop of a wand if they asked it of him. Well, within reason (his siblings sometimes did have a tendency to request some pretty bizarre things). Each sibling had their own special bond with him, something he greatly adored, though he'd never admit it to any of them. His older brother, Bill, was the man he greatly admired and looked up to. Bill always seemed to have everything figured out. Bill had the right girl, Fleur; had the right job; and had the right attitude on life. Charlie figured if he turned out half as great as Bill then he'd be doing all right. Percy, though a complete arsehole at times, had his own way about him that Charlie could respect. He may have spent a great deal of his life pretending he didn't belong, but in the end he came around, proving he's just as much a Weasley as the rest of the clan. The twins never astonished Charlie in the slightest. When nearly everyone gasped over how well the twins came out, their business bringing in more revenue than nearly every other store in the Alley, Charlie smirked, always knowing in his heart how well they'd come out. With their quick wits and business ethics, naturally their small store would turn into a growing empire.
Charlie's relationship with the two youngest, Ron and Ginny, used to come in a few letters here and there, mostly from the female. He rarely saw them, already far too consumed with his own life as a dragon keeper by the time they were old enough to attempt to relate. However, after fighting side-by-side, one united family, during the war, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny made an effort to form and keep their bond.
His parents meant the world to him, two people who defined the meaning of the phrase 'happily married couple'. Of course Charlie wanted a marriage like that of his own someday, to settle down with some bird and live the rest of his days dreaming of only her, having kids with her, and having a happily ever after with her.
Funny enough, Charlie already found her.
He loved his girlfriend. He loved her just as much as he loved any family member, possibly more due to the type of love her felt for her. He was in love with this girl, already eagerly anticipating a long, healthy life with her.
If put on parchment, the couple definitely don't fit together. At seven years his junior, many believed her far too young for the likes of him. As a dragon keeper he displayed a fierce love for danger and for the unexpected, a man on the tips of his toes at any given moment. She, on the other hand, vied for order and schedules, meticulously planning everything out to a T. Spontaneous was not a familiar word for her. While Charlie liked to live day by day, his girl planned out her life, thinking about the future and thinking about how to get there.
Even their looks made them stand out as an unlikely couple. The famous Weasley red hair came in contrast to his girlfriend's dark locks, her magnificent curls bouncing heavily next to his soft waves. While both had pale skin, his so many freckles, oddly enough, made him appear much darker than her. The shortest of all his brothers, he still towered over his girl, who stood at a petite five foot three. Not to mention he often smiled tight-lipped whereas she, the daughter of two successful muggle dentists, loved showing off her pearly whites.
Nobody foresaw Charlie Weasley and Hermione Granger to last longer than a couple of weeks. Sure, he'd brought home plenty of lovely girls, but all of them came with too much baggage or too much hair. Charlie regularly dated pretty girls, but all looks and no brains made life rather dull for him. Hermione gave Ron a try, but their mutual short-tempers had their love fading, and their friendship straining, within a few months. After three months they called it quits, leaving Hermione open for suitors. Being the dedicated woman she was nearly had her married to her job, continuously fighting for the rights of the various 'beings' the ministry refused to declare anything higher than inferior animal (i.e. centaurs, house elves, etc.). A few blokes hit on her every now and then, but she never gave in. Well, that is until Charlie came along...
"Hello?" he growled, knocking his hand on the brass bell on the front desk; "can I get anyone to help me here?"
Charlie had been standing in one of the side foyers of the Ministry for over forty-five minutes. Initially a short, stout man told him he'd only have to wait for ten minutes at the most, but then he never saw the man again. If he'd known having lunch with his father, the new Minister of Magic, would take the entire day then he would have rescheduled.
"Does anyone realize that I am his son?" he asked in exasperation, not expecting an answer.
"Charlie Weasley, I never took you for a whiner."
Turning on his heel, Charlie found Hermione Granger standing in front of him, hand on hip, smile on her lips. Dressed in an elegant pencil skirt and baby blue blouse, she clutched a few manilla folders to her chest with her left arm. He thought she looked exhausted but still rather cute.
Quirking his brow, he told her, "Well, if I didn't have to wait eight hours to see my own father then I wouldn't have to whine."
Throwing a hand up, she stomped past Charlie to stand behind the counter. "Mr. Weasley has been bombarded with files today due to someone's flagrant disregard to everything I told him. No, the idiot trying to help other bloody beings doesn't know anything, now does she?"
"Bad day?" he asked with a smile, leaning his elbow down and pressing his face in his palm.
Shaking her head, she answered, "Your father has fallen victim to some messy busywork because someone made a big mistake. I tried to prevent said mistake, but certain members of the Ministry feel I'm somewhat incompetent because of the division I choose to run. It's politics that has your father stuck in unnecessary meetings and, on behalf of my own division, for I refuse to say anything for anyone else in this bloody building, I apologize for the inconvenience."
Chuckling, he said, "I'd accept your apology if I didn't think you were simply saying it for your own benefit. Do you really mean it?"
"Oh Charlie," she muttered, shaking her head and smiling at him, "You're quite the character, you know?"
"It's what I'm told," he remarked, peering over her shoulder, noting they were still alone. According to her, his father wouldn't arrive any time soon. "Care to join me for lunch?"
Hermione suddenly looked shocked, puzzled even, he would ask such a thing. Charlie had to look over his shoulder - had she seen something? Was the question throwing her for a loop that much?
"Lunch? With you?" she asked, eyes wide.
"No, lunch with my fire-breathing lizard out back," he replied sarcastically. "Yeah, with me."
He watched as she tucked a thick wad of hair behind her ear, nervously glancing over her shoulder. Turning back toward him, she whispered, "I'm not supposed to leave at the moment. I'm kind of stuck here until your father is done with his meetings. Then he and I are suppose to go over other proposals."
"Oh, I see," he said, realizing her dilemma. However, always one for mischief, and pissed off over other people causing problems for his father and this family friend before him, he suggested, "Take off anyway. You said my dad is stuck in there for hours on end. Why not take a short break, have lunch with me, and then be back to finish whatever business you have with him."
"What if they finish before we're back?" she asked anxiously.
"I'll speak on your behalf. After all, I am the boss's son." He smirked, flashing her a lopsided grin.
With her feelings on the subject waning, she managed a small smile back, put her folders down on the counter, walked around, and hooked her arm around his.
"Shall we go?" she asked, her Gryffindor courage obviously driving her.
Giving her a dashing grin, he pulled her toward the exit, smirking when he caught her glancing over her shoulder one last time...
They started dating shortly after the encounter, finding a solace in each others' company. Hermione enjoyed his friendly, easy-going nature, often times following his lead whenever life became too hectic. He made her have fun, made her realize the beauty of life outside of work. Charlie thought her inquisitive, analyzing brain made not only for great conversation, but came off as incredibly sexy at times. Many a times an off-handed comment about the significance of interpersonal relationships between magic folk and nocturnal beasts roaming the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts led to heavy snogging sessions on Charlie's couch.
Naturally the Weasley family had much to say about the relationship between the duo. While many of the family members found the couple nothing short of adorable, such as Arthur, Bill, the twins, and Ginny, select others didn't see the pair as right for each other. Naturally Ron felt a twinge of annoyance at having his older brother dating his ex-girlfriend. He voiced his opinion in the beginning of the relationship, but, more or less, warmed up after realizing how much Hermione truly fit with his brother. Harry, a surrogate Weasley member and brother to Hermione, felt uneasy about Charlie with her. Having known both of them for half his life, he felt an innate sense of protectiveness for both of them, more so for Hermione. He didn't want her hurt, nor did he want anything going down to ruin Charlie. Harry felt apprehension more than anything else.
Then came Mrs. Weasley, the one Charlie felt certain would adore his choice in girlfriend. Yet, the first time they declared themselves an item to the family, the woman had Hermione in tears by the end of the night. Charlie, feeling protective and positively furious at his mother, grabbed Hermione by the hand and the two left the dinner early...
Fuming, Charlie ran a hand anxiously through his coppery hair, his fists clenching. Hermione had barely spoken to him since he'd apparated them back to his flat, excusing herself for a few moments outside. Instead of holding her like he wanted to, he'd let her go, feeling it best she have her space. However, through the window he could see her savagely wiping her face at tears.
His mother had many qualms about their relationship and had not been afraid to voice them. Initially she huffed a bit, claiming Charlie was far too old for her, she should find someone her own age rather than searching for someone older. They attempted to shake it off, taking everything else in stride - the friendly jokes from the twins; Ginny's pestering giggles; and Bill's knowing grin, having, of course, already known about their relationship from the start. Then, as they sat down next to each other for dinner, the exhaustive interrogation began.
"Have you even thought about your jobs? The both of you are too consumed with your work to even think about dating each other! It's all wrong, I tell you."
Merlin, if Charlie could have told his mother to shut up he would have gladly liked to do it then.
Hermione smiled throughout most of it, surprisingly, though she clenched his hand tighter after every word his mother viciously spoke. As if trying to assure her by some physical comfort, he'd squeeze it back, attempting to catch her eye - but it seemed to do little, if any, help. His mother cut her down. Hard.
Charlie looked up when he heard the door open and softly shut, watching Hermione lean her back against it, her face flushed and blotchy.
"I think um...I think I'll head back to my place and crash. I'm awfully tired," she whispered dejectedly.
Rising to his feet, he walked toward her, flinching inwardly when he saw her wrap her arms around herself protectively. She wouldn't meet his eyes when he placed his hands on her waist, trying to pull her close to him.
"I'm sorry, Charlie, but I'm not in the mood," she spat, sounding harsher than he'd ever heard (at least to him).
Dropping his gaze downward, he said, "Love, I'm so sorry about tonight. You shouldn't have had to go through that."
"It wasn't like they didn't say anything to you," she growled, her eyes glassing up again. "If anything they tore into you more. I guess the baby doesn't require much bashing, does she?"
Gripping her a little tighter, Charlie told her, "Bugger them all. I don't care what Ron thinks nor do I care about my mother's opinion. It's obvious they don't know us as well as they think they do."
"Charlie, they tore use apart," she cried, disengaging from him and walking around, flopping herself down on his couch. He turned around, frowning sadly, as she continued, "I thought they'd be happy. I thought I was..."
"What? What did you think, love?" he asked softly.
As two tears fell from each eye, one slowly skimming on her cheek, the other sliding beyond her chin, she whispered, "I thought I was family."
Charlie felt his heart break.
Moving quickly, he sat himself down next to her, catching her as she dissolved completely into tears. He held her for a long while, letting her cry herself out, his anger growing with each moment she cried. How dare they make her cry?! He couldn't wait until he could speak with his family again, to have the opportunity to tell his mother how her judgements hurt a good thing.
"Sh," he soothed, his hand softly combing through her hair, "it's all right, love. It's okay, Hermione. You are family, you know that. They love you like you're their own."
"Not tonight," she mumbled into his shirt, "I could feel it. Tonight I was taking their boy away or something. I...I...genuinely thought they'd be happy. I c-hant understand this."
"I know. I'm so sorry, Hermione, you shouldn't have had to go through this. I promise it won't happen again. I won't let them ever have a say on the matter."
While it surprised him to no end, he felt such a relief when he heard an unladylike snort and several chuckles against his chest. Hermione was laughing, cackling actually, against his chest.
"Um, I didn't know what I said was funny," he noted, pulling back and smiling at her.
Peering up, her dark eyes melting him, she told him, "Charlie, don't ever promise me something you know you can never keep. Come on, this won't happen again? That's like saying you're unattractive."
Lifting his eyebrows, he asked, "And what do you mean by that outburst?"
"Your family will never stop having an opinion, whether it's about me or not. You Weasleys are far too opinionated!"
Laughing, he hugged her tighter to him, pulling her into his lap and leaning his face into her chest. Sighing, he held on to her as she ran her fingers through his hair, still shaking from her earlier bout with tears.
Serious once again, Charlie said, "Love, you're right. My family is a part of me, but that doesn't give them the right to berate us. Hell, most of the family was great actually. Really, it was my mum and my idiot brother." He pulled back, leaning back against the couch and letting her rest her head against his shoulder. "Now, Ron will come around, I know, but mum may take a while. I don't know what her problem is, but you can bet your dragon I'm going to find out."
"I don't want this to tear us apart," she choked out.
Tightening his arms reflexively, he fiercely said, "Never."
Tomorrow would soon come and he decided he'd have a little chat with his mother...
And oh goodness, did he ever the following day. Hermione didn't stay the night, leaving only after he reluctantly gave in to her, realizing again how she needed some space. In the last few months they'd been together she'd come to him whenever something bad occurred. Apparently this hit too close to home.
After a terrible night of near-zero sleep, Charlie pulled himself out of bed and started getting ready for the day. After a quick shower, he dressed himself in his work attire, passing entirely on breakfast. He wanted to talk to his mother on an empty stomach, his temper always worse whenever underfed.
He knew Hermione wouldn't want him to speak with her angrily, especially on her own behalf. As a fiercely independent person, Hermione liked to take responsibility for her own actions or anything regarding her. Since they began dating she gave in on certain fronts, understanding Charlie liked taking care of her whenever she'd allow - but this would be different. Charlie feared Hermione would want to join him for this, but he had to do this alone. Obviously something was wrong with his mother and come fire and brimstone, Charlie was determined to find out...
Slamming the door much harder than usual, Charlie strode through the living room, ignoring the apprehensive stares of the twins and the worried glance Bill shot him.
"Where is mum?" he asked, his mouth a thin frown.
"She's in the kitchen," Bill sighed. "How's Hermione?"
"She's fine. Excuse me."
Stomping past his brothers and out of the room, fleetingly recalling just how harsh and curt he'd sounded, he entered through the kitchen door to see his mother sitting at the table, a cup of tea in her hands. He noticed a despondent look about her face, but refused to worry himself over it. Other issues were more important at the moment.
"Morning, mum. I trust you slept well even though the rest of us didn't," he growled, leaning back against the pantry door, coolly regarding her with blazing eyes. "I don't know what got into you last night, but I want you to know that I didn't appreciate it. Having my relationship criticized and torn apart before dinner was even served really appalled me. How could you do that mum? How could you do that to Hermione?"
When she didn't reply, his anger mounted even more. Shaking his head, he continued, "Last night Hermione questioned whether or not she was even part of this family."
This got a reaction from his mother.
"Of course she is!" she bellowed, lifting her face and meeting her son's eyes. Charlie sucked in a breath when he saw just how forlorn her eyes appeared. "Her being family is precisely the reason I acted the way I did."
"What sense does that make?" he asked.
Running a hand through her red hair, the silver grays more apparent than usual, she whispered, "Charlie, she's like another daughter to me. I love Hermione so very much, just as much as any of my children. She is a member of this family."
"Then what's the problem?" he asked in irritation.
"What happens when you two break up?" she asked bluntly, staring up at him. "What happens when your relationship turns for the worst? Will you hate each other so much that it breaks her away from this family? Will you resent the rest of us for still caring about her?"
That's what this was about?
"Mum, whether or not Hermione and I have a terrible break up shouldn't be a reason for shutting her out now. Merlin, mum, don't you realize how upset she was yesterday? She truly thought, or rather thinks, you were telling her lies all those years about her being part of the family."
Shaking her head, she told him, "I love her like my own daughter. Hermione is a wonderful person."
"She is, which is why I'm with her. Mum, Hermione means so much to me and the way you treated her yesterday damn near had me exploding. You broke her heart."
"I'm sorry," she murmured sadly, "I shouldn't have said any of that. It just scared me to think you two could ruin everything you already have. The friendly relationship and I didn't want something to end between you that would take the two of you away from this family. We need you both."
"I know, mum, and don't you think we've already discussed this?"
"You have?" she asked, her voice a little high, clearly surprised.
"Hermione is the most meticulous person I've ever met. Of course we discussed it."
"And?" asked Mrs. Weasley hopefully.
Sighing, he told her, "We decided that no matter what we wouldn't let anything between us affect the family. If we don't work out then we'll still be obligated to see each other because of our relationship with everyone here. No matter what we've promised to try and maintain a friendship. She'd never give up Harry and Ron, nor would she ever give up on the rest of the family. Mum, you should know that."
"I know that, darling. It's just different than before," she noted absently, almost as though talking to herself. "When she and Ron dated it was nothing. I knew nothing would come of it because of his temper and their dual stubbornness. You and her, however...well, it was unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome. I think you'd make a fine match."
"We do," he said firmly. "Hermione is everything I've ever wanted and worlds more."
"I know she is. That girl has been a part of this family, believe me, I know," she replied, her fingers gripping the cup tighter.
Shaking his head, Charlie walked to the door, still incredibly angry over his mother's treatment of his beloved. He came to a halt only when he faintly heard her call out his name - he stopped at the door, but did not turn around.
"If Hermione is willing to accept an apology from a crazy, overprotective mother, I'd love to talk with her. Please, ask her to meet with me. Let me have a chance to make it right."
Nodding, wordlessly letting her know he'd speak to Hermione, he left the room...
The following day brought upon happiness for everyone. Hermione, though incredibly uneasy about it, ventured to the burrow and spoke with Mrs. Weasley over tea for well over an hour. After apologies, and quite a few mutual tears, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley hugged, ending the tension existing between them since the horrid dinner.
Charlie couldn't have been happier after that. While his brother still displayed several misgivings, his other brothers, sister, and parents found Hermione completely right for him, and him for her. Having his family understand how much she meant to him made his daily life easier. When Hermione came by, they knew it was more than just for a friendly conversation over house elf rights. When the two of them retired at the same time from family dinners, they knew the two were leaving together, either sleeping at her flat or his.
Once the one year mark hit in their relationship, the duo decided to take things to the next level: moving in together. Naturally his mother voiced her concerns over the progression seeing as a ring still didn't sit on Hermione's finger. She believed marriage should come first, but Hermione reminded Molly how times had changed, with much help from Bill and Arthur, trying to assuage her worries. Charlie didn't say a thing, knowing full well he didn't care about his family's opinion on this one. Waking up with her in his arms each and every day kept his brain, momentarily, on stupid. Oh yes, Charlie couldn't wait for the move in.
Hermione, forever the practical girl, thought buying a house together seemed too forward, especially since they weren't married. Since Charlie's flat was slightly bigger with more extra room, she moved into his home, selling her own once settled in.
Every time Charlie thought about their first morning together, goosebumps erupted all over his skin. The memory alone could bring a smile...
He woke up late, the both of them taking a few days off to get situated. After an exhausting day of packing, unpacking, apparating, and very few breaks, Hermione and Charlie crashed into his bed around one in the morning, too tired to even snuggle. Charlie opened his eyes a little after ten o'clock, smiling when he felt himself spooning Hermione's warm body. Burying his nose into her heavy array of curls, he pulled her closer against him, a morning cuddle already on his mind.
"Morning," she whispered in a sleepy yet happy voice.
"Hey, love," he replied back, rubbing his hand underneath her shirt (an oversized shirt she stole from him), letting his fingers graze the skin of her belly. He chuckled when he felt her shiver beneath his touch.
Sliding her hand atop of his, intertwining their fingers, she noted, "I should have moved in sooner. I love waking up and not having to put on last night's clothes before racing home. This is nice."
"I agree."
Turning in his arms, she snuggled herself beneath his chin, her arms wrapping around his torso and her fingers rubbing along his spine. He kissed the top of her head, taking in the deep scent of her flowery shampoo. Sometimes he teased her how much she smelled like a garden. Charlie couldn't wait to have that smell permanently attached to his pillows and sheets.
Smiling lazily, he felt her leave a hot trail of kisses along his neck, lifting up along his chin before taking his lips into a searing kiss. He could tell by the way she pulled back slightly, immediately turning away after the kiss and slumping her shoulder, she was worried whether or not she had bad morning breath. Charlie knew the signs with her.
"Hermione, you have the sweetest breath. There is nothing to worry about," he told her, his hand lifting up, brushing just a hair beneath her left breast and making her gasp. "I love you in the morning."
"You love getting shagged in the morning, Charlie," she growled, lifting up, letting the sheets pool in her lap. Pushing him back against the pillow, him grinning all the while, she continued, "And I plan to give you what you want this morning."
Charlie and Hermione skipped breakfast and lunch, and didn't emerge the room until close to dinner...
From there the relationship built into something grand, something neither of them ever expected from a random meeting by the quirk of fate. Though the commute was tough on Hermione, who was forced to leave his flat in Romania rather early in order to floo from various locations and apparating the rest of the way, she couldn't have been happier. Charlie brought order in her life, stopped the chaos from the residual effects from the war. While she sometimes forgot to breathe, he taught her how to remain calm, was her rock whenever she needed him. Vice versa, Hermione made him want so much more in life than he ever vied for prior to them getting together. She inspired him to be a better man.
Ron came around, accepting Charlie made Hermione happy and she equally bettered him. Together they acted as an unstoppable team, known by the press, prominently Witch Weekly gossip reporters Susan Bones and Dean Thomas, as Charmione, the famous couple of the December issue. The article featured a large picture of the duo, with Hermione's arms wrapped around his neck while he held his hands at her waist, their foreheads pressed together. Every few moments she'd kiss his cheek which, in turn, made him smile and nuzzle the side of her face affectionately with his stubbly cheek. Charlie was surprised when Hermione actually had the issue framed for their hallway wall...
Charmione: December's Sweetest Couple
Obviously everyone in the entire wizarding world knows about the love between two of history's most important people: Hermione Granger and Charles Weasley. Hermione and, as friends and family call him, Charlie are well known for their involvement in the defeat and demise of the Dark Lord - predominantly Hermione, best friend of Harry Potter, our hero and savior.
Hermione Granger was born into a loving muggle family, the only child for the happy parents. Daniel and Margaret Granger were ecstatic when their daughter entered their lives, turning their humble home into somewhat chaotic with the bizarre magic occurring around their child. At the age of eleven, Hermione entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, meeting best friends Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley (younger brother of Charlie Weasley) for the first time. During her years at Hogwarts, Hermione gained a name for herself outside of Potter's influence. As one of the brightest witches to come along in decades, Hogwarts greatly changed due to Hermione's interest in a vast array of subjects, including arithmancy, one of the most difficult subjects the school offers. As a prefect, she established a great deal of authority, both as a role model and as a supervisor of her peers. Furthermore, though not a flyer herself, she enjoyed watching the game of quidditch, if only to cheer on her best friends, and house-mates, during the matches.
During what should have been her seventh and final years of Hogwarts, Hermione took leave from school, committing herself to the destruction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. During the endeavor, she sustained massive injuries, including an unforgivable cast by menacing Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. After the grueling experience, Hermione helped the light side in the victory, winning the war and ending the tyranny of You-Know-Who.
After a very brief vacation, Hermione returned with her two best friends to Hogwarts where she completed her education, scoring the highest marks for Hogwarts in over twenty years. Naturally a great career seemed evident and sure enough, the Ministry of Magic offered Miss Granger a position where she has the opportunity to actively participate in the rights of beings outside of the typical magical circle.
Charlie Weasley, on the other hand, lived a relatively different life from his beloved. The second son of seven children, Charlie was born to Arthur and Molly Weasley seven years before Miss Granger's birth. As a young fireball of a child, he excelled in athletics and found himself participating in quidditch beating (from the ground, of course) at the young age of eight! By the time he was twelve, he made the Gryffindor quidditch team as a skillful seeker and, four years later, became captain, eventually leading them to win the House Cup.
After completing his schooling, Charlie began a career in dragon keeping, a challenging and extremely dangerous job. When he turned twenty-one, he was transferred to Romania which he came to call home, finding solace in the heat of the dragon's fire and the comfort of their scales. However, the impending war had him prepared to leave his life behind. When the time came, he brought himself home and invested his time, effort, and magic into a war, fighting behind (sometimes taking orders from!) his future girlfriend.
When the war ceased, Charlie returned to his normal life which eventually led him to Hermione.
Though the duo refuse to speak to the press about their relationship and are hardly ever receptive to photographs, the couple did express their fondness for one another at a recent outing to The Satin Sapphire in Diagon Alley. Celebrating Charlie's recent promotion in his Dragon's Colony, they shared an intimate dinner for two complete with a generous amount of public display of affection.
"They shared dessert," noted one patron, "and she kept feeding him small bites. Then they'd share a kiss. It was absolutely adorable!"
Though neither had anything to say when they left the restaurant, nor did they respond to any of Witch Weekly's owls, the couple appear to be heading in the right direction and not looking for anything else anytime soon.
So the question is: when will Charlie pop the question?
While he refuses to speak with us personally, Harry Potter has been said to believe it will happen in the very near future, possibly in the next month! Let's hope that with the new year brings upon the wedding of one of magic's most beloved couples...
For further information on muggle raised wizards and witches, see page eight.
For further information on Hermione Granger's Ministry position, see page five.
Charlie had laughed out loud when he first read it, thinking how utterly stupid the piece of rubbish came off. Yet, Hermione found it delightful, finding the picture pleasing and the article hilarious, especially the off-handed comments about their refusal to comment to Witch Weekly. So she framed it, placing it neatly in the hallway. She still chuckled whenever she read it.
A year and three months he'd been with her and he still sometimes wondered when she throw him out of her life. Someone so wonderful deserved a whole lot better than simple ol' Charlie Weasley. Despite his troublesome thoughts she assured him each and every day how much she loved him. He smiled each time, knowing in his heart she spoke only the truth.
So, naturally, on a day as wonderful as this, Christmas day in fact, Charlie grinned when he entered the family room to find Hermione watching half-heartedly a game of wizarding chess between his brother and Harry. The two were nearly finished and Hermione appeared bored with the game, but obviously too invested in their banter and conversation to leave.
"I saw Seamus the other day," said Harry offhandedly, his eyes focused on Ron's knight.
Hermione smiled, remembering their old house-mate from school, one she hadn't seen in at least a year. "Oh yeah? How is he doing?"
"Still dating the same girl," he replied.
Ron snorted. "I never liked that broad. Far too snippy for the likes of Seamus, though we know how he can be at times. I still think he could have done better."
"It's not like they're married Ron and she wasn't completely horrible. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but not a complete tart."
"So says the girl who only spoke to her for a grand total of four minutes. You spent the rest of the night with Charlie. Harry and I, on the other hand, were stuck with the wench for well over an hour. She wouldn't shut up!"
"You're one to talk," interrupted Charlie, finally entering the room and sitting himself beside Hermione. "And that's checkmate, Harry."
Sure enough Ron took Harry's rook and checkmated him, ending the game. Harry sighed, giving the room a half shrug. Though a competitive person by nature, he never whinged if he didn't win at a friendly game of chess. Ron hooted and hollered, per his usual, and much to everyone's delight. It was always a good laugh to see Ron acting like a complete pillock over something as unimportant as a game.
Well, unimportant for them.
"Hermione and I have the next game," said Charlie, standing to his feet, ready to take Ron's position. Hermione, Harry, and Ron all stared at him as though he'd grown a dragon out of his ear. "What?"
"Um, Hermione doesn't play chess," stammered Harry, looking back and forth between the couple.
Nodding in agreement, Hermione narrowed her eyes, checking her boyfriend up and down for signs of anything suspicious. "I've never been one to play chess. Why don't you play Ron? He won the last game."
Shaking his head, moving around Ron and sitting himself down on the ground, cross-legged, rubbing his hands together eagerly. He finally answered, "I don't want to play either of them. I want to play you."
"Why?"
"Cause I'd like to play with some terms that I highly doubt Harry and Ron will agree to," he replied cheekily.
"Oi!" shouted Ron indignantly. "I don't need to hear about anything like that. Take your shag-speak elsewhere."
With his thoughtful eyes still focused on Hermione, he said, "I'm not talking about anything quite so crude. I have more respect for Hermione than to do that in front of her two best friends, one of which is my idiot younger brother."
"Thank you," she said in gratitude. Standing to her feet, she asked, "What terms are you getting at?"
"I want to play for your hand—"
"Told you it was sexual," interrupted Ron.
"—in marriage," finished Charlie, eyes still blazing and zoned on Hermione.
The room went quiet.
Quiet and still.
Very quiet and very still.
Not a single noise.
Charlie had a strong feeling Hermione stopped breathing and an equally strong feeling that Harry and Ron would soon collapse at her feet. The three all had the appearance of a group of sleepwalkers. He gave her a half-grin when he saw her swallow thickly, taking a step back as though his words had been a physical blow. Charlie thought she looked like she had on the day he'd first asked her out.
"You all right, love?"
"M-m-marriage?" she managed to stammer out, her eyes wide and her skin pale. "I didn't know you were, um, thinking about that."
"We've been together for so long that naturally I had marriage on my mind. Neither of us is getting any younger over here."
Pulling on a loose curl by the side of her face, a habitual nervous tick, she said, "Charlie, I don't see what a chess game has to do with it."
"I'll tell you," he informed her. "You see, if I win, then you marry me. It's as simple as that."
"And if I win?" she asked in shock.
Shrugging, he answered, "I don't plan on losing so it doesn't matter."
"Humor me."
Tilting his head to the side, he thought for a moment. "If I lose, then you have my permission to request anything of me. You don't even have to say it now. Let's have it be a surprise on the off chance I lose, which I won't. I know I have this thing won so we best get started on our road to marriage. What do you say? Are we in agreement to the terms?"
"I haven't even agreed to the game!" she shouted, turning around and pacing the perimeter of the room. "Merlin, Charlie, we haven't even discussed any of this and now you're throwing it on me? How could you do that? I mean have you even thought about what marriage would entail?"
"I've thought about everything," he replied smoothly.
"Have you? Cause I have the distinct feeling you have not thought about anything," she ranted, "and I'm not one to walk into something such as this blind. I mean, Charlie, a marriage is more than just me wearing a white dress and you giving me a ring. Speaking of which, I don't even see a bloody ring."
As though expecting her accusation, Charlie leaned to his side and fished through his pocket, pulling out a small black box. He watched as Hermione sucked in a deep breath and both Harry and Ron's mouths fell slack, hanging open for the world to see. Oh, how he wished he had a camera on him.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?" she choked out, her voice squeaky and high-pitched.
Chuckling lightly, he said, "I'll gladly slip this on your finger once I win the game. Now, are you going to sit your bum down so I can force you into marrying me?"
The 'force' did her in.
Hermione Granger - independent Hermione Granger - would never be forced into anything!
With narrowed eyes, she suddenly rolled her neck and wiggled her shoulders, preparing herself for the battle about to ensue between her boyfriend and herself. Sitting down cross-legged in front of the board, she stared at him, giving him the go-ahead to rearrange the pieces properly.
He loved it when she got aggressive.
0000000
Before long the game began with Harry seated behind Hermione and Ron seated behind his brother, both of them eager to hand out tips to the both of them yet remaining in the background in quiet anticipation. Who would win the game? Before the match even started the group had been joined by the twins, the two lifting their brows in surprise when they learned the terms of the game.
"Damn, Granger has some bollocks," George had said, earning him a punch in the arm from Charlie.
"Funny how the boys say that just as I captured one of your pawns, eh Charlie?" she taunted, smirking as she stared up at him. Though he gave off the appearance of someone with extreme confidence, she could already tell he felt a little nervous. With nearly everyone in his family watching, and already losing, Charlie appeared somewhat worried.
He answered her anyway, "Don't get too cocky, Hermione, the game has only just begun."
"I'm so scared," she came back.
Amazingly enough, Hermione wasn't especially scared over this. Very few times in her life had she ever felt truly terrified. Sure, she felt some nervous eagerness, but who wouldn't? While she'd faced some of the greatest dangers the world had ever seen, fought alongside the boy-who-lived, the prospect of marriage with the man she loved (and she definitely loved him) did freak her out a little, in bits and pieces.
About six months ago she remembered feeling fear. She remembered her stomach lodging into her throat and her tongue bleeding from the force of her teeth...
Letting herself into Charlie's flat, with a spell purloined with his permission (he gave it to her after three months of dating), Hermione shut the door behind her, setting her bag on the side table and heading toward the kitchen, her arms full of groceries. Setting the bags down on the dining table, pushing the newspaper Charlie left behind in the morning on an empty chair, she began to magic the items into their proper places, either icebox or cabinet. The only items she left out were the ones she needed to make him dinner.
This being a Thursday she knew to expect him a little late. Thursdays were always his toughest days, especially with the new batch of baby Chinese fireballs born a week prior. No doubt he would arrive exhausted and irritated, wanting nothing more than to take a shower and grab a bite to eat. She thought the least she could was make dinner, at least help him with the latter half.
She was half-way through making lasagna when a hard knock came at the door. Three more raps followed before she reached it, opening the door a fraction to see who it was.
"'Lo, Hermione."
Vincent Wandrow. Ministry official and former Slytherin, two qualities she didn't care for to begin with. The man worked for Arthur Weasley, an assistant of sorts who mostly handled tedious paperwork and answered owls. It was common knowledge the man didn't care for his position, nor his employer, and wanted Hermione's job.
Dragons.
The man wanted the opportunity to deal with Dragons.
Hermione thought of him as a nutter seeing as her job had little to do with animals of that sort, especially since dragons were in an entirely different branch (they had their own laws already protecting them, hence why their keepers focused solely on them rather than a horde of dangerous animals).
"Mr. Wandrow, how can I help you?" she asked politely. She didn't particularly like him, but it didn't justify rudeness.
He attempted to peer behind her, as though seeing if anyone was home, before he asked, "Is Charlie around? I wanted to discuss a few things with him."
Hermione hesitated, put off by the sound of his voice. It seemed low, the kind of utterance one makes when really angry. She didn't think Charlie needed anymore stress by having some disgruntled employee of his father pester him with questions concerning dragons.
"I don't plan on keeping him long," he told her, as if reading her mind.
Shaking her head, she replied, "I'm sorry, he isn't home from work yet. I'm not sure—"
"I know he generally gets home around this time on Thursdays so do you mind if I wait? Again, I promise not to take too much of his time. I only want him to check something over for me and as an expert in the field of dragons—"
"The ministry has many experts in that particular field and excellent references to anyone who can help you. Why don't you ask one of them?" she asked pointedly.
Giving her a small smile, he answered, "I want the best answering this question and Charlie is one of the best. Please, do you mind if I wait for him?"
"I can't stop you," she responded, rather snippily.
"Inside, I mean."
Biting the inside of her cheek, debating with herself over the pros and cons of having this man in the house, she submitted, nodding her assent and pulling the door all the way back. He stepped through the threshold and shut it behind him, following her into the kitchen.
Hermione rushed over to the stove, pulling off the sizzling meat before it burned entirely. While Charlie told her to use magic to cook, she insisted on doing it manually, stating her muggle heritage would never leave her. Regularly she enjoyed cooking, but with the man in Charlie's flat she wished she'd listened to her boyfriend and used her wand.
"The two of you seemed to have made great headway as a couple," he stated, his nonchalance rubbing Hermione the wrong way. "I must say I'm impressed. Charlie doesn't regularly keep girls around long."
Clearing her throat, she said, "Pardon me, but you hardly know Charlie to make that kind of assessment."
Hermione heard him laugh behind her, a deep, rumbling kind of laugh. It sounded bitter and managed to make her more nervous than before. Nervous? No, not nervous. He was just a visitor, nothing to fret over.
"I know Charlie. I knew Charlie back in school, well before you were ever there. I knew Charlie back when he was a quidditch star. I was a keeper and there were games when he nearly knocked me from my broom. Quite the flyer."
"Quidditch is a rough sport," she noted, a little defensively.
"Yes it is. Point is, I know Charlie better than you think. I knew the man back in the day before he was ever in your life. I knew him back when we roamed the halls of Hogwarts. I knew him back before I ever worked for his father."
Hermione dropped the wooden spoon in her hand to the ground, standing stock-still as she felt the man directly behind her, his front pressed to her back. She gasped when she felt him grab her wand from her pocket, but didn't move, suddenly wishing to Merlin she hadn't let him in. What had she been thinking?!
"Charlie was a badass at school and yet he landed one of magic's greatest girls. How did that happen?" he asked, his breath running along the outer edge of her earlobe.
"Mr. Wandrow, please, return my wand and then leave this house. I don't know what you're playing at by this, but I will not tolerate it." Though her voice sounded hard, she was terrified. It had been so long since the fighting that she forgot to be on guard. Mentally kicking herself, she continued, "Charlie will not appreciate this—"
"I don't give a shit whether or not he'll appreciate it," he snarled, his hand wrapping around her mouth, his other on her waist, and yanking her backward, throwing her onto the table.
Hermione struggled, fighting him like a wildcat and desperately trying to compose herself long enough to knock him off with wandless magic. However, with her mind frantic and distressed, she couldn't focus enough to do a single thing. His hands were creeping along her body, pinning her arms immobile to the table, his intent clear. She watched his dark green eyes wash along her thin frame, staring heatedly at her muggle jeans.
"No!" she screamed, savagely kicking him in the right leg. He backhanded her, hard and quick, throwing her face to the right. The dizziness overwhelmed her at once, her eye feeling like it would explode from the socket. The pressure of his body suddenly pushed against hers and then...
And then it was gone.
Fleetingly she looked up to see Charlie there, throwing him violently into the wall, Vincent's head smashing into the hard plaster, an ugly dent marring the creamy surface. Hermione jumped when she heard Charlie's fist connect with the man's cheek, the loud crack of a bone echoed through the kitchen, leaving her shaking afterward.
Suddenly Charlie pulled him up by the collar of his robes and tossed him into the other room, following him out. Hermione could only listen to the other man's groans of pain as Charlie continued to beat on him. No longer wanting to listen, she turned on her side and pulled her legs up, forming a tight little ball. Crying, she waited for the madness to finish. It felt like forever before she sensed his presence, Charlie's presence, and was pulled into his arms.
When he walked toward the grate, she stopped him.
"No, Charlie, don't. I...I don't wanna go to St. Mungo's." Her voice sounded so small, even in her own ears. Especially in her own ears.
"Hermione," she heard him whisper into her ear, and a new feeling of contentment and ease washed through her, a safe feeling; "Your face is bruised up. Your cheekbone might be broken."
"He d-didn't hit that hard. I'm okay," she tried to assure. She knew it sounded pathetic, but it appeared he couldn't deny her.
He cast a spell in the direction of the kitchen, turning off the burners, and carried her into the bedroom. After he shut the door, Charlie pulled the covers back and gently placed her in there, still fully clothed, and tucked her in. Then he hopped over her, laying himself down beside her atop the sheets, and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed into his chest, "I'm so stupid. I...I sh...I shouldn't...have l-let him in. I d-d-didn't think."
"Shh," he said soothingly, his voice softer than she'd ever heard. "Slow down, love. Deep breaths."
Hermione wound her hands into his shirt, clinging to him, occasionally pounding her fists into his broad chest.
"I was so scared," she choked out, more tears filling her eyes.
"I know, Hermione," he told her, stroking her hair, "I know, love. I'm sorry. I should have gotten here sooner. I'm so sorry."
"N-no, you were at work," she defended him.
"God, Hermione, it's no excuse. I should have been home sooner. Merlin, I'm sorry. But I'm here now and it's going to be all right. He won't ever touch you again. Nobody will ever touch you again, I promise."
Feeling safe, she slipped off into slumber right then and there, hugging him tightly to her body...
Charlie kept his promise and kept it well. Following the incident, Charlie became a shadow around her. Fiercely protective, he didn't stand for people so much as looking at her with lewd eyes or sketchy grin. He especially didn't stand for anyone touching her in any way without her permission. Even overbearing fans sometimes felt the brunt of his fist.
Naturally, Wandrow was fired and fined several hundred galleons for assault and the attempted rape on Hermione Granger. After the story reached the paper, the public cried outrage over him. Nobody disrespected one of the war heroes, especially a member of the Golden Trio. Vincent Wandrow moved out of the country three days after the story broke.
Charlie Weasley, the simple man, only cared about three things: dragons, his family, and his Hermione.
Wandrow should have known better than to touch her.
"Your move, love," he said, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes scanning the board. Hermione was posing more of a challenge than he planned on. She never played the game, how in the hell was she damn good?! He should have known she'd pick up on things quickly, not to mention she had years of watching Ron and Harry play.
Damn.
Charlie bit his tongue as Hermione's only knight moved in the irregular 'L' shape and took out his last bishop.
"Nice one, Hermione," cheered Harry, his grin dissolving when Charlie cast him a glance.
"Thank you, Harry," she said in gratitude offhandedly, her eyes still zoned in on the chessboard.
At this point, the only Weasley members not in the room were Molly and Percy; the former in the kitchen, oblivious to the match and preparing dinner; the latter working late at the Ministry.
"Think wisely," warned Bill, seated beside Charlie, patting his brother reassuringly on the shoulder. As the first Weasley to find out about them being together, he felt a sort of bond with the two. Sometimes he still chuckled when he thought about the day...
Bill walked slowly up the stairs, having just been told by his wife and mother to call the others to dinner. When his mother asked him to do it, he took his time, slowly rising from his seat. Once Fleur smacked him on the arse and told him to hurry up, he cantered to the stairs, the sound of his steps echoing in the living room. He remembered distinctly hearing Fred and George mumble something sounding oddly like 'whipped' before he disappeared up the staircase.
After calling Ron, Ginny, and Harry down, all of which were in Ginny's room, playing a game of exploding snap. Afterward, he proceeded down the hall, carelessly knocking before walking in.
"Charlie, dinner is—oh!"
His redheaded brother turned around quickly, staring wide-eyed at his brother in the doorway. He had Hermione pinned to the wall, his right hand beneath her shirt, cupping her breast. Bill noticed Hermione turned a shade redder, her cheeks pink with embarrassment, her chest still heaving from their mutual assault on one another. Even from the distance, Bill could see her lips were deliciously swollen.
"I'm sorry, mate," mumbled Bill quickly.
He shut the door behind him, staring blankly at the wall now before him. About five seconds later the door opened again and Charlie emerged, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand.
"Bill," he said in greeting.
"I didn't know you and Hermione were...you know," Bill broke off awkwardly.
Looking at the closed door, Charlie said, "It's a little new for the both of us, but um, it's serious. Can you keep your mouth shut for a little while? Hermione and I aren't really ready to tell everyone yet."
"My lips are sealed," assured Bill, meaning it.
"Thanks."
"Um, well, dinner is ready. You two coming down?"
Nodding his head, Charlie answered, "Give me a minute. I was in the middle of a snogging session."
Laughing, Bill said, "You're not students at Hogwarts anymore. You shouldn't be going around snogging all the time."
"If it means I get to feel her up then yes, it's perfectly acceptable."
Already walking away, Bill muttered, "I'll tell them something. You've got ten minutes to finish it up."
"That's all I'm asking for," answered Charlie, grinning as he walked back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him...
With shaking hands, Charlie moved his rook, taking out Hermione's last knight. He watched her bite her lip, chewing the inside as she thought of her next move. Obviously she'd been thinking of something else.
"I thought you were dreadful at chess," said George, his eyes still on the board.
"Just because I think the game is barbaric, which it is, doesn't mean I'm not good at it. I just regularly choose not to play. In this case, however, I made an exception."
"You always do for me," quipped Charlie, smiling as she twisted her messy hair into a knot at the base of her neck. Now, he could tell, she was getting anxious. Whenever she felt the foreboding sense of defeat she tied her hair. He remembered countless times when she did it in battle. The memories still played fresh in his mind, though he so often wished to forget.
"Ron, either hover strictly over Charlie or else I will use a sticking charm on your bum. Don't even ask what I will glue you to," hissed Hermione, her hand deftly moving over the unmoving pieces of the board.
"What? I can't help it. This game is driving us all bonkers!"
"You act as though your engagement is on the line," noted Charlie, more worry in his tone than before.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Hermione snagged his pawn, leaving only one left. He now only had one more opportunity to retrieve his queen, which she'd taken several moves earlier. The board at the present time read: Hermione - king, queen, three pawns; Charlie - king, knight, rook, pawn. The striking colors of black and white nearly blinded Charlie as he wiped his brow with the back of his wrist, rubbing the residual sweat onto the right leg of his pants.
With the pieces spread out across the board, the drastic odds no longer there - they were about equally matched both in the defense and offense, at least while Hermione's pawns remained pawns - Charlie and Hermione finally made eye contact with one another for the first time since the game began. He found himself melting into her eyes, the brown iris of each consuming his very soul. Never in his life had he been more sure about anything than marrying this woman, his perfect counterpart.
He loved her.
"Your move, love," she whispered, still keeping her gaze locked on him. Charlie could tell the pressure of his family didn't bother her, that her family monitored her every move. The pressure, however, of being his wife? It was the only thing she hid from his view. Or, perhaps, she didn't think of it as pressure, that she felt no fear over marrying him.
He could only hope.
Standing up, he walked past Harry and Ron, pushing both of their faces back from the board, and grabbed Hermione's hand, lifting her to her feet. Without saying a word to his family, he led Hermione out the front door and into the cold, snowy air.
"Charlie?" she questioned in a quiet voice.
No response came, but rather he pulled her away from the house, far enough so no prying eyes, or ears, could intrude upon them. When he felt the distance secured privacy, he turned around and pulled her to him, wrapping her up in his arms, breathing in her Hermioney scent.
After several moments of silence, he asked, "Are you all right?"
Catching her off guard, she tried to pull back, tried to meet his eyes, but his arms refused to budge. Submitting, she whispered into his broad chest, "I'm fine. What's going on?"
"I saw you in there. You had this look about you that I couldn't quite decipher which isn't right for us, you know? I can always read you. I can bloody read everything about you and suddenly you cut me off? What's going on, love?"
If she expected anything it wasn't that.
"Charlie, I..."
"Yes?"
She finally pulled away from him, turning around, his stomach facing her back. He waited patiently for her to continue.
Sniffling, she continued, "I'm in love with you. I'd do anything for you, Charlie, and I...I'm ready to marry you. I've been ready for a while and I've been waiting on you."
"Hermione, if you want the whole...I don't know, shebang, then I'll do it. I'll rent a sign in Diagon Alley. I will take you to the best restaurant in all of London if only to shout at the top of my lungs that I want you to be mine, that I want you as my wife. If you want me to—"
"Charlie," she whispered, a slight tremor of a chuckle playing at her voice.
"—I'll make some cheesy, over-the-top speech if you want me to. I'll take out a front page ad in that stupid magazine Ginny reads, or hell, the bloody Prophet! I'll—"
"Charlie," she repeated, her hand coming to shield her eyes, the laugh definitely betraying her that time.
"—I'll do whatever you want—"
"Charlie!"
Only then did he stop and truly stare at the girl, finding Hermione with a big grin and quirked eyebrows. She was messing with him?
"I...don't know what to say," he admitted quietly.
Taking a deep breath and stilling her giggles, she strode forward and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, one he didn't return. Keeping his arms to the side, he stared over her head, slightly bemused and a little peeved.
"Charlie, the only reason I closed my eyes off in the house was because I was playing your game. You suggested it and I took up the challenge," she told him mischievously. "Sad thing is, I don't think you're going to beat me. I guess we're not getting married then."
"You were...are messing with me?" he asked incredulously. The twins, sure; Ginny, perhaps; Ron and Harry, no doubt; but Hermione? Hermione didn't joke like this, not about things this serious.
"This coming from the man who based our engagement on a game of chess," she quipped, dropping her arms and folding them impishly across her own chest. Deciding the teasing would only get them both so far, she sighed and told him, "I've never been more sure about anything. It's how I told you before, I'm in love with you. I'm ready for this so it's just a matter of you stepping up, getting back in that house, and kicking my arse at the game. If not, well, I guess you'll have to find another clever way to propose, oh scary dragon keeper."
"No," he said, his throat oddly dry but the sinking feeling no longer in his gut. "I'm not doing this again. I fully intend on kicking your arse this time around."
"Then do it," she challenged, turning her back and already walking toward the house.
Charlie stared at her petite form disappearing through the brush, realizing just one more reason he loved Hermione Granger: she posed him a challenge.
Charlie always loved a challenge.
0000000
When they came back into the house, a horde of questions bombarded their eardrums like a group of pestering pixies. While most of the questions were laced with concern, Charlie and Hermione clearly couldn't handle all their shouting at once, not to mention couldn't get a word in edgewise.
"What's going on?"
"Charlie, is the game still being played?"
"Hermione, are you getting cold feet already?"
"Don't you think it's rude to walk out on family?"
"You two fighting over something?"
Hermione shot him a playful glance before gesturing toward their unfinished match. Cracking his knuckles in an overly dramatic way, the couple walked back to the board, ignoring the questions of the other occupants, and sat down, prepared to battle it out until the end.
Silence reigned.
...where Charlie learned the end was a mere two moves away.
"Checkmate."
Game over.
It's all done.
"Holy shit," he said flabbergasted. "I lost. I can't believe I bloody lost."
"Never underestimate the quiet ones," she teased, suddenly finding too much interest in her nails.
"Since when are you quiet?" questioned George, his mouth the only one not hanging open, catching hippogriffs.
Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "I meant about chess. I know I'm not quiet about much, but you can't deny I do know how to listen, watch, and learn. Growing up in the Weasley house taught me a great deal about chess. None of you just ever thought to play me."
This, they couldn't deny.
After a while, Charlie finally turned his head to gauge his family's reaction. After George stopped talking, his mouth hung open just as his twin, making it even more difficult to tell them apart. Even their insides were alike to the very last tastebud. Ginny appeared proud, but he figured that had something to do with the sisterly bond she shared with Hermione. Harry and Ron both had the same gobsmacked appearance, one for the books. Rita Skeeter would have killed to catch the two of them looking so knocked for six. Bill, the only one still sitting on Charlie's right, kept moving his eyes back and forth between the board and Hermione. However, the reaction which caught Charlie's attention came down to the man he called dad. His father looked not only shocked, but disheartened, like he'd lost his favorite toy since childhood. Charlie figured he must have underestimated how much Hermione meant to him, and the family altogether.
Damn it, he would have loved to given him another daughter.
Hermione finally broke the silence, "Well, I guess everyone is a tad surprised I won, eh?"
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was a sure thing," admitted Charlie. Sighing, he continued, "I guess we'll save the engagement for a different day."
"Hold up," said Hermione, literally raising her hand in the air to stop him. "I believe there were other terms for the game."
Nodding his affirmation, Charlie replied, "I believe I said you could have anything you wanted."
"Yes, you did. I also think you gloated a little early stating how my request didn't matter since it wouldn't pan out. Regretting anything?" When he didn't answer, she went on, "So, I get anything I want, huh?"
"I'm a man of my word. My idiot words," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, already guessing what she wanted. There had been a book on aisle three—
"I want you to marry me," she said simply.
He hadn't been expecting that.
"What?" he asked, hoping he'd heard right. Hoping, hoping, hoping.
"You have better hearing than every person in this room. It's a requirement when it comes to dragon handling so I know you heard me. It's just a matter of when it sinks in and it should happen in about five...four...three...two—"
"You want to marry me?" he asked in astonishment.
Smirking, she put her elbows on the board, pushing aside Charlie's recently destroyed king. "I said it outside and I meant it. Just because you lost doesn't mean I've stopped loving you, stopped wanting to marry you. It just means that I get the honor of asking you to be my husband rather than the other way around."
"That's it?"
"No. Actually, I just get to boss you around by telling you to get that ring out, get down on one knee, and ask me properly in front of our friends and family. And you have to do it because this girl just kicked your arse at chess. Feels good to win. Especially when I get to rub it in your face."
Charlie Weasley had never been more happy to lose in his life.
I know it's a long piece, but I felt everything encompassed the story I wanted to tell - it didn't need a whole bunch of chapters to get the point across. Hope you all enjoyed my first non-Dramione fic!
The High Stakes of Gambling is the work of fanfiction. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the featured story is mine.