"Catch!" Hermione managed to freeze the keys flying towards her in midair. She summoned them closer at a more reasonable speed while giving Charlie a withering look. He laughed it off and circled the field once more before landing his broom by the gate Hermione was now locking. The sun was beginning to set and Hermione joined Charlie in watching the silhouettes of the dragons flying against the fading orange light. As the sun finally disappeared over the horizon Charlie turned to her and offered his arm to her with a joking smile.

"Shall we?" he offered. Hermione smiled and linked her arm with his. Together they ran down the hill to the lodge where the other keepers and handlers would be sitting down for dinner. Their close friendship had been the subject of many rumors after Hermione had shown up three years ago with no explanation. Charlie, who ran the entire Dragon Reserve, had hired her on the spot and taught her everything he knew about working with the beasts. She had learned quickly and had taken on much of the logistical work in running the place that Charlie didn't always have time for. When she had arrived he had written to his mother to let her know she was there and to ask what she knew, but Molly Weasley had been unwilling to drop any hints. She had suggested that Hermione might explain in time, but left it at that.

"The chef has certainly outdone herself with this one," Hermione mused as they walked down the line. The cafeteria style was the most efficient for getting everyone fed, but since they cooked on rotation the quality sometimes left something to be desired. This particular meal appeared to be an experiment in vegan fare, but was lumpy and hard in ways that didn't seem natural.

"Maybe after this season we'll make enough to hire a chef." It was an optimistic thought. The Reserve generally ran lean these days since the Ministry was using its funds for rebuilding after Voldemort's reign of terror. For much of wizarding society dragon-keeping was too far down on the list of charitable causes to be of much concern until things returned back to normal. Charlie had cut corners where he could and had refused to let any of the staff go, but with more dragons they had needed more hands. A chef would be a luxury for them reserved for the day when their regular funding returned. At least that was Charlie's hope. Hermione looked around and considered the keepers who were all deeply immersed in raucous conversation all along the long table they shared. Charlie recognized her calculating expression and leaned in closer.

"If we rethought some of the patrol boundaries we might be able to spare one or two people who could cut out early enough to work in the kitchens…" she said slowly, still working through the thought.

"We tried that last month, but we couldn't find anyone who knew enough dishes to get a variety," Charlie reminded her.

"But with two maybe they could teach each other and spend a little more time learning new things without the pressure of feeding the entire cohort on their own." Charlie smiled and leaned back.

"Worth a try, isn't it?" Hermione wrinkled her nose as she tried to push something green onto her fork that disintegrated as soon as she touched it. Charlie laughed and raised his glass to her.

"To new ideas!" he declared. The rest of the keepers, all immediately brought to attention by the raised ale, joined his toast.

"To new ideas! And to dragons!" They all roared together. This lot never missed an excuse to toast and celebrate.

A few hours later the keepers were starting to stumble off to bed. The evening had developed into a loud party as it often did, with some keepers digging up instruments while the rest sang and drank along to their favorite tunes. Charlie and Hermione had continued to chat about the logistics involved in getting a more consistent cook before joining the group and adding their own voices. Hermione even found herself dragged into a simulacrum of a square dance and the other dancers did not seem at all bothered by her lack of rhythm. At the end they all ended up in a heap, laughing until tears streamed from their eyes. The thing about keeping dragons is that it couldn't be done near civilization. Keepers lived on the Reserve and developed their own tight knit social group.

The next morning Hermione had thoughtfully laid out hangover cures along the table for anyone who might need it. She'd persuaded George Weasley to give her the recipe after Ron's wedding three years ago when she had, as she had put it, celebrated too hard. The other keepers just hugged her when they saw the vials and hurriedly gulped them down. Not the best taste, but worth the effects. Ford Everston had even landed a sloppy kiss on her cheek in thanks. Hermione blushed and ignored it, secretly grateful for the rumors that she and Charlie were involved because it kept the other keepers from getting too friendly. Charlie may have known about the rumors as well, but he had confided to her that he would never get involved with an employee now that he was in charge. The rumor benefited him too since it freed his time to focus solely on the dragons and the job of keeping them and the Reserve in good shape.

Today they were easing the dragons into a comfortable hibernation for the winter. Hermione and Charlie looked over the plan she had outlined on a long roll of parchment for the keepers to maintain the sleeping dragons over the next few months. It was simple in theory, but the diversity in dragons at the Reserve and the relatively small number of keepers made it a complex task. Charlie gave his final approval after finding no holes in Hermione's outline, and with a wave of his wand he duplicated the parchment and sent a copy zooming to each keeper at their plate.

Hermione had paired herself with Abigail Williams for the preparations of a common welsh green dragon that was fortunately interested in the nest they were fortifying for her. Keepers on the Reserve took every precaution in case another dragon awoke early and threatened to wreak havoc on any of its sleeping brethren. As they worked the two witches chatted amicably.

"She'll probably go into heat as soon as she's done hibernating, I reckon," Abigail suggested.

"How can you tell?" Hermione squinted at the yawning dragon trying to see what Abigail could.

"Just a sense, you know." She shrugged. "Sometimes you can tell."

"I'll let Charlie know in case we need to keep a closer eye on the males in the Spring," Hermione noted. Now finished with the reinforcements, Abigail turned to study Hermione's thoughtful expression.

"Aye. Best if the boss knows. They'll be a handful for sure." Hermione nodded and began to gather the tools they had brought out with them. The dragon's slowed breathing signalled the end of their task and together they began the long walk back to the lodge. On the way they talked more about the dragons when suddenly Abigail stopped.

"Can I ask you something, Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you and the boss… are you really…?" Hermione had stopped when Abigail did and at her question she started along the path again at a brisk pace. Abigail caught up with her and put her hand on her shoulder. Hermione stopped walking and closed her eyes.

"No," she said finally. She opened her eyes again and Abigail's knowing smile met her gaze. "How did you know?"

"Sometimes I just know. Same as with the dragons," she waved her arm in the direction of the dragon they had just prepared. "But you like him." That last sentence wasn't a question.

"Sure. We're good friends. We're practically family. But I… I guess I hadn't thought about it." Abigail nodded and as abruptly as she had broken from their chatter about the dragons she returned to it as if nothing else had been said. Hermione didn't know what to think. In the years she had been at the Reserve this had never come up and she had started to think it might not.

Back at the lodge Hermione excused herself and went up the stairs to her little room while Abigail happily went to join the card game some other keepers were playing by the fire. Hermione's room was just a bed, desk, dresser, and a mirror but it had always felt palacial to her. Here she had been able to get away and work in peace. She sat down at the desk and spread a roll of parchment out. Dipping her quill in the ink, Hermione began her letter.

Dear Harry,

Hibernation season is here again. When are you coming to visit? I've missed you terribly and want to know everything that you've been up to! Please give my best to Ron. I got his postcard and it at least looks like he's having a good adventure with Lavender. I still can't believe she's a travel writer and got him to go with her. Not quite what we expected is it?

-Hermione

She gave it a final read through before sealing the letter. Last year Harry had found time between quidditch practices to come and see her for a few days during the hibernation season. The conversation with Abigail earlier had left Hermione feeling a little anxious and restless. The last time she had fancied someone it had ended awkwardly and then she'd had to watch him marry another witch. There was enough time and reconciliation between the breakup and the marriage so that she was happy for him, but there had been one too many people looking at her with pity and one person even had the gall to say "wasn't that supposed to be you?" It was at that wedding that Hermione had decided that fancying someone wasn't worth it and she just wanted to throw herself into work. Dragonkeeping had been a surprise to everyone when Hermione had announced she was leaving to work with Charlie, but she was clear about her intentions though she kept her motives a little closer to the chest. She wanted to get away but still feel like part of a big family and everything Charlie had told her during his visits made it clear this line of work fit her goals.

Hermione made her way to the small owlery the Reserve had only a short walk from the lodge and selected a sturdy barn owl to take her letter to Harry. It hooted officially before taking off with the letter attached to its leg and Hermione watched it with some relief. Harry would listen and be a good sounding board for her concerns about any silly feelings she might have towards Charlie. Though of course Abigail could have been wrong.

Her return to the lodge went mostly unnoticed. Abigail and the other keepers had gone out again, likely to race around on their brooms and enjoy the remaining nice weather before the end of autumn. Ford was the only one left in an overstuffed armchair by the fire and he gave her a small wave that she returned.

"Charlie was looking for you," he said to her sleepily.

"Thanks." He waved her away and yawned before nodding back off into his afternoon nap.