Swan Song

Summary: Every six months, the invitation came without fail. It was maddening, this need to compare lives, to prove who had moved on more successfully. Yet, she always showed up.

Pairings: Charlie/Hermione, Draco/Hermione

"So Malfoy, huh?" Charlie Weasley asked after Madam Rosmerta delivered their order; a firewhiskey for Charlie and a butterbeer for her, "Can't say I saw that coming."

Hermione Granger took a sip of her butterbeer, in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She hadn't wanted to meet with Charlie. They had a history, a history she tried to forget. Yet every six months, he asked her to have drinks with him to catch up. Hermione had avoided answering initially, but Charlie let it slip to Mrs. Weasley. Hermione promptly accepted his invitations after that. Nothing was worth risking the Weasley matriarch's anger.

"Not many people did," she answered, his hazel eyes watching her every move.

She saw the telltale signs of the Weasley temper flare. Mouth set in a frown, red blossoming on his cheeks, his eyes hard.

"You told me that you wanted to be alone. Now I hear that you're fucking Draco Malfoy? What the hell 'Mione?" Charlie asked, slamming his hand on the table.

This had been a bad idea.

Draco had told her it was a bad idea, but she had convinced herself otherwise. Charlie had been her first love, her first everything, and she felt duty bound to attend these awkward encounters (Mrs. Weasley made certain of it).

Her brown eyes met his and he recoiled.

"Are you finished with your tantrum? I am sick and tired of catering to your selfish whims, letting you dig at me when you all but force me to come meet up with you for drinks at your convenience. I am happy, Charlie, for the first time that I can remember. Genuinely happy and fulfilled. I am sorry that you feel that you were cheated and aren't happy with your lot in life, that your choices led you here. But I am not sorry that I am happy with Draco. Not even a little bit," she said, her hair crackling with energy.

His strawberry blonde hair was mussed as he ran his hand through it, his mouth in a grim line as he understood what she said. Hermione crossed her legs.

"You were supposed to be happy with me! My family practically adopted you. Why can't you just come home?" he pleaded, hazel eyes unusually moist.

Why can't you just come home?

Her heart clenched painfully as it was forced through memory lane. Running into Charlie at the grocery store. Taking him to a muggle movie. Fighting over whose turn it was to take out the garbage. Facing Ron together. One year anniversary. Charlie's promotion. His cold supper. Notes. Unexplained absences. Lipstick on his collar.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and released it.

Why can't you just come home?

"I never asked for your family to take me in like that! And I was happy with you. I was ready to give up everything for you, but you fucked the intern," Hermione said as her knuckles turned white from clenching her mug, "I am home. I am happy. You need to let this go."

He couldn't look her in the eye, "It was a mistake, a stupid mistake."

She finished her butterbeer and stood up.

"You don't understand, Charlie. I'm happy with how things turned out. I'm happy you fucked the intern, because it led me to Draco. I have been patient with you and tried to be nice to you, but you have to let me go. You need to move on, because what we had is gone. I wanted you to know before it hit the papers tomorrow. Draco and I are getting married," she said, squeezing his muscular shoulder once before walking away.

The door slammed shut behind her.