He Never Stood a Chance by Luvscharlie
Warnings: Smut, adult language
A/N: Originally written for the 2012 hp_porninthesun exchange on Live Journal where my request was for humour and banter and romance. The only requirements were to write what your giftee wanted and over 1000 words.
Charlie was behind the counter of the Hog's Head drying a glass. It was half-Noon with not a patron in sight when the girl walked in. She'd come to apply for the position posted on the door. She looked left, then right, then directly at Charlie.
"So where is he then?" she asked.
Charlie made the motions of looking left and right, then pointed at himself with a half smile. "Me he?" he asked, sarcastically.
"Me he?" The girl looked perplexed. "So… what? You don't speak English. Just my luck." She put her hands on her hips and sighed deeply. "Pretty and stupid. That's the combination making up the personality of every man who's ever been attracted to me. I'm not sure why I thought my luck would change today." She said the next words in a painfully slow manner, as though speaking slowly would help him to understand. "Do. You. Know. Where. The. Owner. Is?"
Charlie tried to get in a word and inform the girl that simply because someone didn't speak English, he was rather certain that did not qualify them as stupid. And that perhaps she was stupid for not knowing this. He was just about to inform her so when she continued rambling (this is also when he realised that he did, in fact, speak English and that maybe that particular area was a moot point to argue—particularly when this girl gave him so many better areas to contest). He'd purchased the pub from Aberforth Dumbledore three months ago, when a close call with a dragon as his mum watched had put an end to all pursuits of continuing to work at the Reserve. He'd like to tell this girl that he was the owner, but she wasn't good at waiting for an answer to her question.
He'd made the purchase of the pub because basically, it was either quit the dragon keeping or have his mum tagging along after him every second of every day. And he really couldn't have his mates asking him all day long if he needed his mummy there to wipe his nose (or his arse) for him. Of course, Franco had only done that once before Molly Weasley had hit him with a hell of a good Stinging Jinx—which had stopped the jibes, at least where his mum could hear them.
So, there was an embarrassment factor to his change of professions, and Charlie liked to say that was the reason he'd left his lovely dragons. But, if he was being honest (and usually he wasn't), that really had been a fucking close call. It had scared fuck all out of him. So much so, that Charlie was rather content to take on a life with a slower pace-and as much Firewhisky as a bloke could drink. That Firewhisky part had been not a small part of the allure.
"So, where's the owner of this"—the girl looked around—"dirty, disgusting, repulsive pub?"
"Oy! I'm the owner, and I'll have you know I cleaned in here for hours last night."
She looked at him with scepticism clearly written on her rather pretty face.
"What? I did!"
Her look never wavered and Charlie could feel himself growing warm under the heat of her glare. "Okay, I used a Cleaning Charm! Same difference."
"Hardly," she said with a snarl. "Where do I start?" She pushed her way behind the bar and began to poor herself a drink.
"What do you think you're doing? I don't even know your name!" Charlie demanded.
"I'm working, of course; you quite clearly need all the help you can get. My name is Lavender. Now that you've found your ability to speak English, you can address me as Miss Brown, since we're hardly friends. Now, get out of the way. I can't do my job with your big arse standing around in the way."
Poor Charlie. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself obeying and then he was outside the pub and wondering how he'd got there. He hadn't hired the bossy girl. He turned back around and stormed back inside. "I did not—" he screeched. She snapped her fingers and pointed at the door and he was outside again in a whirl of colours.
One hour later…
Bill showed up at the pub to find Charlie sitting outside beside the door mumbling to himself. "What are you doing out here?"
"I don't—I just—There was a girl and—" Charlie threw up his hands in defeat.
"A girl." Bill patted Charlie on the shoulder. "Say no more. It's always a girl. Buy you a drink, little brother?"
"I'm not allowed to go back in there." Charlie shook his head, acknowledging the ridiculousness of his words. It was his pub after all.
His married brother seemed to understand. "Yeah, it happens like that sometimes. Come on, we'll go over to the Three Broomsticks."
"And support the competition?" Charlie asked, aghast.
Bill looked through the window on the door of the Hog's Head. "Holy fuck! She's got that bar sparkling, and she hasn't even smudged her lipstick or broken a nail. I'm impressed." He looked back at Charlie. "What's her name?"
"We're not friends. I'm not allowed to call her by her name."
Bill giggled behind his hand. "I haven't seen you this way since you got a glimpse of Rosmerta's tits by peeking in her window during your fourth year. I'd say this girl's bound to be your wife."
"Oh. My. God! You take that back right now!"
Bill was already walking toward the Three Broomsticks. "I won't," he threw back over his shoulder. "You can either join me for a drink or go back in and talk to your future wife, whose name you're not allowed to say."
"Fucker," Charlie muttered, but he did fancy a peek into the pub and he'd never seen that bar look so clean, so he followed after Bill mumbling to himself about bossy cows who just thought they could come in and take over a bloke's pub.
The next day…
Charlie arrived at The Hog's Head early, and to his horror discovered that Lavender was already there putting little roses in vases on the bar. Roses! On his bar! What the fucking fuckery was this? "First of all, how the fuck did you get in?"
"You are apparently pants at Locking Charms, which does not surprise me in the least. Besides employees should have their own keys."
"I am not!" Charlie was disturbed by how much he sounded like a petulant child. "Besides I never hired you."
Lavender looked a bit shocked. "Oh. Well…" she stumbled over her words. "I mean, I guess in the literal sense of the word 'hired'—I mean, I'm not—Well, I can just undo what I've done here and—"
"NO!" Charlie ran across the pub and grabbed Lavender's wand before she could undo a single thing. Other than the roses in vases (which had to go), the Hog's Head had never looked so breathtaking. There wasn't a trace of its former grime anywhere.
"So you do appreciate my help then?"
"Well—I mean, it's—It's just—I think—No roses. The roses have to go." Charlie put his foot down.
The next day…
A new professor at Hogwarts, whose name Charlie didn't know, was just paying her tab at the counter, when she looked at Charlie and smiled. "I just love the roses on the tables and all across the bar. Those are a great touch."
Lavender smiled smugly.
Charlie kicked a wall and hurt his foot. This girl had to go. She absolutely could not continue working here. She was ruining everything and turning his manly pub into a fru-fru bunch of girly nonsense. He'd sack her… first thing in the morning.
Six months later…
He looked at the parchment, but still really could not believe his eyes. Still, it was there in ink, undeniable. Charlie Weasley and Lavender Brown were listed as co-owners of a pub called the Hog's Head. Charlie scratched his chin, rubbed his head and sighed. He should never be alone with pretty girls—particularly this pretty girl. He had no willpower.
Lavender came up behind him. "So when are we changing the name to The Rose Garden?"
Charlie snarled. "How about the Tuesday after never?"
"Good to see you've got more reasonable over the past few months."
The truth was that the pub was thriving and it seemed that every single suggested change (read: changes Lavender made without telling him) had sent sales soaring. She'd even produced a type of floral beer that had birds lining up to have their hen parties at his pub. He hated to admit it, but his pub—his rough and burly, grimy and dirty pub had become a girls' hang out.
Two weeks after that…
Bill was standing outside the pub when Charlie arrived that morning. He was there looking up at the sign. "How did this even happen?" Bill asked. "The Rose Garden? Really?"
Charlie hung his head in shame. "I'm a sell out, Bill. Do you know that revenue has quadrupled since she hung up that sign?"
Bill, always appreciative of financial things, nodded that he was impressed. "I like her. There's a certain charm about Lavender, you know?"
"I think they call it bossiness, and given that I know your wife, I'm not surprised you'd find it charming. I call that 'charm' a real pain the arse."
"A lucrative pain in the arse."
Charlie couldn't deny that.
"Mum mentioned that since Lavender came around, you've gained ten pounds and you're always smiling."
"I smile to cover my distress that I have no control over my life." He looked down at his paunchy belly and sucked it in reflexively. "And I have not. I'm in the best shape of my life." When he couldn't hold his breath anymore, Bill laughed. "She makes me drink!" Charlie defended. "There are a ton of calories in alcohol."
Bill just stared at him.
"Oh fuck. Did I just talk about counting calories?"
"Yep."
"I'm turning into a woman, Bill. This has to stop."
"You could just marry her and make it official. You're whipped. Might as well make it official."
Charlie found himself reacting by pointing his finger in his brother's face and near foaming at the mouth in anger as he said, "You. Take. That. Back! Right now! That's never going to happen. Never!"
One year later…
Headline from The Daily Prophet
Weasley-Brown nuptials today at the Burrow, half-two
Charlie tossed the newspaper back out the window and hit the owl that had just made the delivery. Bill sniggered. "How long are you going to pretend this isn't the best day of your life?"
"I just—I don't—I was the bachelor!" Charlie exclaimed. "I was going to live my life a single man, bedding as many women as possible and putting notches on my bed post. How the fuck did this happen?"
Apparently Charlie said that too loudly, because his mum was passing the bedroom and poked her head in to warn him about his language and remind him that he was not too big to be put over her knee.
"You love her and you know it. Never seen you happier." Bill looked down at Charlie's midsection, and the fact that his dress robes were bulging in that area. "Never seen you chubbier either."
"I hate you."
"But you love her," Bill chided.
Charlie couldn't stop himself from smiling, and even worse, he was fairly certain that it was one of those goofy grins that he'd given Bill such grief about when he was dating Fleur. He did love Lavender, even when she was driving him batty, which was at least ninety percent of the time.
That night, when the bachelor Weasley brother was no longer a bachelor…
"Did you pick out this hotel room yourself?" Lavender asked.
"Yeah." Charlie was apprehensive. "Is there something wrong with it?"
"No, no," Lavender assured. "It's just that it's so much nicer than your usual taste. Did someone help you?"
"No," Charlie lied.
"Really?"
"Really. Is it so hard to believe that I picked out something wonderful all by myself?" Charlie acted wounded.
"Well, it is a little."
Charlie threw his hands wide. "Why?" he demanded.
"Mostly because Fleur came by the Garden yesterday and told me she hoped I liked the room she picked out for our honeymoon."
"Oh," Charlie chirped. "Why do you do that? You baited me."
"And you'd think by now that you'd have figured out not to follow when I'm clearly leading you into a trap."
"You better come over here and kiss me or I'm going to forget that I love you and start pouting."
Lavender nodded and walked into his arms. "You are intolerable when you pout. We wouldn't want that." Lavender kissed him deeply, reminding him, without question, why he was no longer a bachelor.
"You love me when I pout."
"I love you always, but your lips are irresistible when they're all pouty." Lavender ran her thumb over Charlie's lower lip and then wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
He kissed his way down her jaw line and nipped at the nape of her neck. "I can't wait to rip this dress off you," Charlie murmured.
And suddenly, the girl he was kissing had pushed him halfway across the room and was staring at him, mouth agape. "You will do no such thing!"
"What? What'd I say?"
"There will be no ripping of this dress—no ripping of any kind. Do you have any idea how much this cost?"
"You said you got a good deal. I think the word you used was 'bargain'. Now who's lying to whom?"
Lavender ignored him as if her telling little lies was perfectly normal. "I'm going into the loo to make myself presentable."
"What? No. Come on, honey, let's—" Charlie never finished his pleas to begin the consummation of their marriage before the door to the loo shut firmly in his face.
He sighed and began to undress. Which, by the way, was a mistake to do in front of an enchanted mirror.
"Charlie Weasley, I haven't seen you in years."
Charlie gave the mirror a sceptical look. "Um, do we know each other?" And yes, it does feel foolish to talk to a mirror, but it also felt rude not to.
"Of course, we do! I used to be in the back room of the Witches Twitches over in London. Surely you remember. You were there every week after all, always with a different woman."
"Oh shit." Of all the rooms in all the world, this mirror had to end up in the room where he was starting his marriage. "We need to talk. You can't say anything about knowing me. I don't think my wife would appreciate hearing about my bachelor days."
"Was that pretty thing that went into the loo your wife?" the mirror asked.
"She is pretty, eh?" Charlie found himself smiling foolishly.
"Very. But then, you always did bring the pretty ones."
"Um, about that. Let's not talk about that, okay?" Charlie pleaded.
"Should we talk about that plump little belly you're getting, then?"
"Everybody's a critic." Still, Charlie found himself reflexively sucking in his belly again. He opened the door to his room desperate for help and grabbed a young lady who had the misfortune of walking down the corridor at just that moment. "You gotta help me."
The girl's eyes were huge but she didn't argue when Charlie got her to lift the mirror and help him to lug it down the hallway and stuff it into an adjoining room. He got back inside his own room just as Lavender was exiting the loo.
"What were you doing in the hallway?" Lavender asked.
Charlie was staring at the beauty that was now his wife, and paid little attention to her question. "Erm, just asking that we not be disturbed." He closed the distance between them and wrapped Lavender in his arms.
"You asked this while starkers?"
Charlie looked down and was shocked to see his willy standing at attention and waving at the world. This sort of explained why the poor young girl he'd ambushed into helping couldn't stop staring. He didn't even remember undressing while he conversed with the mirror.
"You had no idea you were starkers, did you?"
Charlie did what any respectable male would do; he changed the subject. "You look amazing." Lavender was wearing pink lingerie decorated with small roses.
"Of course, I do. It's my wedding night. Every woman looks beautiful on her wedding night."
"None look as beautiful as you," Charlie schmoozed.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You're getting lucky tonight. No need to lay it on so thick, Weasley."
"I'm trying to be romantic. Now shush, and let me."
"Dear Merlin, put a ring on his finger and he becomes fucking Romeo."
Charlie stamped his foot at her attitude. "Girls are supposed to like this stuff."
Lavender clamped her hand behind Charlie's neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss. "This girl likes things her own way." She took his member in her hand and he squeaked at the contact. "I thought you knew that about me by now." Her hand still grasping Charlie's favourite part, Lavender led him to the bed.
"This isn't very romantic," Charlie complained.
"In what world is it a good idea to complain about my bedroom skills when I'm holding your boy parts in my hand?"
Lavender squeezed somewhat gently and Charlie's voice went up an octave and he rose up on his toes reflexively. "None that I can think of."
"Smart boy. You learn so quickly." Lavender scraped her nails down his chest. "Now, I've been in that stuffy dress all day long. I think I've earned the right to get a bit more comfortable, don't you?"
Charlie could only nod and swallow hard as he watched Lavender pull her wand out from where it was tucked into her bosom. She swished and flicked and all her clothing just disintegrated.
Charlie should have let his comment disintegrate too, but he wasn't that smart. "Those aren't your tits."
"Of course these are my tits," Lavender insisted.
"No, they're not. Your tits aren't that perky."
Lavender gave him a forceful shove. "One little charm and you just can't let it be. Is a girl not entitled to perky boobs on her wedding night?"
"Erm… I don't know what I'm supposed to say."
"Oh for god's sake, get on the bed and stop talking. You're ruining everything."
"What? I was trying to be romantic, just like Bill said I should. You were unappreciative. This is really all your fault."
"If you don't shut up this minute, I'm going to punch you a good one, Charlie Weasley!"
"You just try it, Lavender Weasley!"
And her anger seemed to melt away. "Awww, my new name. I do love my new name."
Before Charlie knew what hit him, his new wife had him pinned to the bed and she was straddling his waist. Lavender grasped him at his base and he thrust up into her warm, wet heat, feeling his eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy. She began to rock, finding their rhythm, and Charlie took hold of her new and improved breasts rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "I like these. Can I keep them?"
Lavender swatted at his hand. "This will go much more smoothly if you stop talking," Lavender chided. "You're making me lose my concentration."
"I'm pretty sure we've done this enough times that it doesn't require a lot of concentration." Charlie pulled her down to him for a kiss and flipped her to her back. He drove her hard into the mattress, mastering the rhythm that Lavender was having difficulty concentrating on. He knew she loved it when he took control. It was the game they always played, and when the time came she was only too eager to give over the control. Charlie pinned her arms above her head, holding her wrists together; Lavender tightened her thighs around her new husband's waist.
"I love you, you know," Lavender said as she arched her back, and Charlie recognised her climax fast approaching. He drove into her harder, faster, taking her to the brink.
She came hard and he followed her into her climax, then rolling off her as she lay panting on the bed. "I love you, too," Charlie said. "Even more with those new tits."
He winked and she gave him a playful smack on the chest.
"You are incorrigible!"
"And you married me."
Lavender snuggled up against his side. "Indeed."