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Force of Habit

Summary: After the war, relationships get tested; everyone makes mistakes, and some things you can't run from forever. Eventual HG/CW, with other ships along the way.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros studios.

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Chapter One – Several Reasons Why Next Time, You Should Just Apparate Out of Beijing

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One hour in to an eleven and a half flight is about the time when any sane person would begin to regret their chosen method of travelling. The initial buzz of setting out on any journey has worn off, and instead the realisation that you are essentially trapped, with a hundred nervously farting tourists and businessmen, in a metal tube held in the air by nothing more reliable than science.

Charlie Weasley was eight hours in, his neck was aching, his foot had gone to sleep, and the snoring of the man next to him was threatening to wear through his very last nerve. The stewardesses had just brought round a second lot of cartons containing reheated food. Having poked vaguely at the first meal of flabby duck in an unidentified sauce, he avoided this entirely, opting instead for eating the bread roll and thinking longingly of his mother's cooking. The coffee, at least, was welcome. In front of him, the screen was showing a subtitled Chinese film; some kind of love story between two whimsical misfits. Charlie was reasonably sure, however, that the girl was dying of some mysterious wasting illness she had yet to tell the guy about. You'd think he'd realise something was up, given the amount of time she seemed to spend fainting and gasping for breath. Worryingly, if muggle films were to be believed, that sort of thing was very common.

The journey was especially trying, he decided, when this whole thing was no more than an experiment he'd set out on, encouraged by his father. After all, Apparition left him tired out for hours after arriving from such long distances, and he was already arriving for his little sister's wedding at the last possible moment. Jetlag notwithstanding, he felt he should give staying awake through the ceremony as decent a chance as possible. Ginny had better at least appreciate the expensive silk bedspread he'd got as a wedding present. Colleen had assured him it was the perfect gift. Though her taste was far from impeccable, she was at least female, and not actively trying to ruin his life.

Pushing uncomfortable thoughts of Shuang out of his mind, he turned back to working on his report on a rise in illegal dragon hunting, resisting the temptation to suggest that anyone who could harvest the venom of a full- grown Himalayan Whiptail and survive to sell it had probably earned their profit. He himself had spent an interesting week in the infirmary alternating between agonising cramps and vivid hallucinations after a close encounter with an irritable hatchling, and had since acquired a whole new respect for the species. Still, the Chinese Fireball was increasingly threatened, and the hide was useless for anything except decorating the arses of the more affluent wankers of the world. Bill at least wore dragonhide with an attitude that suggested he might be able to hunt one himself and return with all his limbs and eyebrows intact. Those who'd been caught with illegal Fireball hide, however, tended to be skinny guys with overbites who'd thought girls would go for a more 'badass' look.

The man next to him farted loudly, and what little enthusiasm Charlie had managed to muster for the task dissipated. As the girl on screen finally got around to a tearful admission to her oblivious boyfriend, Charlie fell into a cramped, resentful doze.

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The luggage carousel turned out to be vaguely hypnotic. A cardboard box marked 'HANDLE WITH CARE' had broken open, spilling papers in a constant trail. So far, it had gone unclaimed, but Charlie's bets were that the owner was the tearful looking bloke grappling with five briefcases. By the time Charlie's own suitcase arrived, battered and held together only by a few discreet charms, most people had already headed off to 'Nothing to Declare'. With so many Muggles around, Charlie didn't dare cast a levitating charm on the heavy suitcase, and so found himself nominally in charge of a luggage trolley with wheels that all seemed to have different ideas of what direction they should be moving in.

Swearing under his breath all the way out into the fluorescent brightness of the arrivals lounge, he looked around for his welcoming committee. He was surprised, however, to see a thin woman with a cloud of brown hair holding a sign with 'CHARLIE' neatly printed on it. She saw him and waved, and he strolled over as nonchalantly as he could manage with the recalcitrant trolley in tow.

"You didn't think I'd recognise the famous Hermione Granger?" He said, grinning. She leant up and kissed him on the cheek.

"It was an attempt at the full Muggle flying experience. I'm sorry none of your family could make it."

Charlie picked up the suitcase, deciding to abandon the trolley to its own devices. "Let me guess; last minute wedding crisis?"

She grimaced slightly, and Charlie couldn't help staring at her face. She didn't look any older than the last time he saw her, still soft featured and smooth skinned. He noted with approval that she was still refusing to hide the scar with a glamour, the angry purple line extending from the right corner of her mouth in parody of a smile. She flushed slightly under his gaze, and turned the side of her face away. "Sorry. It's just... been a long time." He looked away, and threw the suitcase across his shoulders.

She snorted. "Two years. Molly's spitting about how little time you're staying this time, too."

"At least I came back." He said lightly. "Not like I could miss my baby sister's wedding, of course."

She turned away, and Charlie had the sudden feeling of having said the wrong thing. "Well, no. Ginny would kill you." She said calmly, and began walking to the exit. Charlie had to break into an ungainly trot to keep up, the suitcase bumping his legs. "We can apparate from an alley just around the corner. People will just think I'm giving you a more... enthusiastic welcome." She said dryly, folding the sign into a neat square.

Ignoring the sudden coolness of her demeanour, Charlie grinned at the back of her head. "Lead on, good lady."

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A/N: I'm afraid the first chapter's not heavy on details, but I can assure you that both explanations and plot will be following soon. Next chapter: weddings, Weasleys, a little angst and a fair dollop of drunkenness. Maybe even the elusive plot.