Title: Tornado Warning:
Rating: K+
Pairing: Charlie/Hermione
Warnings: fluff and mentions of death
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Well, I didn't know where I was going with this. I half-assed it and put a little dry humour and parody-ing in it. Hope you enjoy.
She hated America. She hated it. She hated the food; she hated the dress. She hated the people; she hated the mess. She hated it so much that she rhymed. But most of all, she absolutely, positively, with a passion, hated, hated the weather. It was so humid that she could taste the air. It was so hot that she could… hell, she didn't even need a metaphor to describe how utterly awful it was where she was. The only thing she liked about the weather was the raging storm that was just a meter away from her. She could reach out from under the protection of the balcony roof and touch the heavy droplets. She loved the rain, but even this was ruined by some sort of "tornado warning."
She longed for the comforts of cool, safe England, but she was in Texas now, and that was the equivalent of hell.
Her uncle had married an American and moved to this desolate land to be with her. She found this impractical and illogical but sweet at the same time. Their only daughter, Hermione's cousin Marissa, was now getting married. And Hermione was asked to be a bride's maid. She couldn't refuse and was left with only one choice.
The wedding had been the day before, and Hermione would have been long gone were it not for the blasted weather. It had shut down all the airports for the day, and she was supposed to be on the 8:30 flight out. She could have easily disapparated out by now, but that would raise too many questions.
"Hermione, how'd you get to England when all the airports are shut down?" She snorted at her abysmal Texan drawl as she moved back into the comforts of her hotel room.
"Talking to yourself again, love?"
She jumped at the voice and turned around, her wand already pointing straight at the invader. She couldn't even take a nap without warding her room so she knew that whoever it was, was a witch or a wizard, and a powerful one at that.
She was not mistaken. "Charlie?"
"The one and only," He retorted in a cocky voice, a sly grin plastered on his face- something she would usually relate to one of the twins.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm rescuing you."
"I'm perfectly safe, I assure you." She remarked before smiling and throwing her arms around the now eldest Weasley brother.
"Mum's clock pointed to minor danger. I decided to come see what was wrong." Charlie said, nearly crushing her smaller frame in his muscled one.
"I didn't know you were back at the Burrow." She mused to herself, letting go of him and offering him a seat.
"You wouldn't. You've been here since I got home. I made the mistake of trying to feed one of my Hebridean Blacks only three chickens. She gobbled them up and then went for me. Gave me a look that said, 'and where's the bloody main course?' I then realized that I must've looked quite tasty drenched in chicken blood. They have a big appetite for humans anyway, those ones, and I didn't need to tell her twice. I got away with only a few burns on my hand, but boss said to take off a few days." Charlie then lifted his left arm and showed her burn marks all the way along it.
"You have to be careful, Charlie!" She screeched, a worried expression covering her face. She took her wand out once again and aimed it at his arm, applying a cooling charm since it was obvious that everything else had already been done.
"I know; everyone's entitled to a mistake once or twice in their lifetime though." He said, his face softening as he took in her concern.
"Not you. Not with such a dangerous job. Your mum would die if something were to happen to you. She's already lost Bill and Fred and Ron. She can't lose any more of you. I can't lose any more of you." She said, her eyes now twinkling with tears.
Hermione took his arm and brought it close to her body, hugging him tightly for the second time since she had seen him.
"Don't worry about me; I always come through." He said with a smile. "Now, what are we going to do about you? You're supposed to be back home relatively soon, but I see that you're not even packed, and what is that bloody siren?"
Indeed, a loud siren was currently going off in the background. Hermione knew this to be the tornado warning siren that her family had told her about. They had insisted that she should stay the remainder of her trip with them since they had a basement and bad weather was said to be likely- something about super cell tornados was said, she thought. She had only briefly been paying attention, her mind trying to calculate how long a storm could last and the record of time an airport had ever been shut down. She couldn't be stuck here more than another day or two, she figured.
"It's the tornado alarm. You're supposed to go into a basement or seek shelter on a lower floor." She said, not having to look at him to know he had a confused expression on his face.
She hoped that he would deduce it had something to do with the terrible weather outside and leave the subject alone. Hermione could explain quite a few things very well, advanced potion to medical procedures, but tornadoes were not one of them. She was ashamed to admit it, but she had left much of the muggle world behind long ago, and the fact that she was never too interested in meteorology didn't help much either. She may have known more were it not for the nature shielding charms wizarding communities placed around their dwellings.
"This sounds dangerous. What is it?"
"It's a violently destructive wind storm that occurs over land. Most of them occur in the middle of America, like here in Texas. It's basically a long funnel that reaches down from clouds onto the ground, and they spin at a fast rate. Loads of people die from them, but we're safe." She said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, of course. How silly of me to worry about a funnel of death." He said sarcastically, automatically moving toward the window to see if he could spot it.
"It'll do you no good trying to spot it. It's raining and hailing too hard. If it comes, it'll hit unexpectedly. That's why they have the alarm sounding. Multiple of them have hit ground."
"And you're so calm about this why?" He asked, his eyes flooding with concern as he shut the curtains and dragged her deeper into the room and away from the window.
"I have a wand. I know how to cast a shielding charm if I need to, and if worse comes to worst, then all I have to do is concentrate and apparate myself out. I've had to concentrate with more distraction happening than weather." She rolled her eyes at him, and he seemed to calm down.
"I already don't like this place. I don't know how you can stand being here for this long." He said, sighing as he retreated back onto the couch, dragging her with him.
"It's easy. I have to be. I don't like this place either. I know it sounds silly, but I'm getting homesick. It's like a double whammy. I'm in muggle America."
"A double-"
"It's a muggle saying." She cut him off, knowing he would be confused again.
"Right. So, how's work coming along?" He asked, putting his feet on the quaint coffee table and stretching his arms along the back of the couch.
"I've finally finished my training. I should be grateful that I took a year less than most people because of that apprenticeship with Pomfrey, but it still felt like ages."
Once the war was over and Hogwarts was re-opened, Hermione made the boys spend over a month studying straight for the N.E.W.Ts. They had the option of going back to finish their seventh year or to get tutored and just do their N.E.W.Ts. Hermione, frankly, was tired of life in general by that point and decided to skip the year. She ended up doing well on the exams anyway since she had picked up quite a few things while hunting for Horcruxes. While she was doing this, she also had an apprenticeship with Madame Pomfrey.
During the war, there were so many injured, so many killed. Ron had died because he could not be taken to St. Mungo's quickly enough. It had been right after Harry had defeated Voldemort. Most of the remaining Deatheaters were discouraged and fled, but some decided that the final outcome could be changed with the evil version of a child's temper tantrum.
There had been apparating wards set. All she had to do was carry him across the threshold, but Bellatrix Lestrange got in her way. With Ron being supported on her good shoulder, and the other one being broken thanks to Pettigrew, she was surprised that she had even managed to survive. Harry had come just in time to kill Bellatrix out of rage; it was something Harry beat himself up over.
Hermione thought she deserved to die.
Blaming Bellatrix did not stop her from regretting that she didn't know enough healing charms. Ron didn't have to die, but he did.
She became a Healer.
"You did everything you could, you know?"Charlie's voice broke her out of her thoughts.
"I know. Thanks." She said, meaning it. Hermione was too logical, too rational to blame herself for the things that occurred during war, but that didn't stop them from hurting any less.
Everything was about the war. She envied the children who were born into a peaceful world where they heard legends about The Harry Potter but didn't truly believe them until Minister Shacklebolt announced a day of remembrance.
"Mum's been pestering me loads about getting married lately," Charlie announced out of the blue.
Hermione didn't blame her. Charlie was nowhere near old. None of the Weasley children were yet, even the ones with children of their own, but Molly was so paranoid about keeping the line going. She wanted all her children to be happy, and in her eyes, the only way to achieve happiness was to get married and have loads of little red-headed children running around.
"Yeah?" Hermione asked. It sounded dumb even in her head, but she didn't know how to respond. He sounded confused and frustrated, like he just needed someone to vent to.
Charlie and Hermione hadn't spent much time together, but when they did, they always got on famously. They even started exchanging letters lately whenever they just needed someone to rant to. Charlie was definitely the most secretive of the Weasley family.
"Yes! I can't come home without her prodding into my love life. I think it's coming to the point where she'll marry me off to anyone just to get it over with. I came home, and Marcus Flint was in the living room. She thinks I'm curvy now! Well, let me tell you. I'm not. Just because I don't get into relationships easily does not mean I don't have fun."
She looked at the way his short hair seemed to stand on edge like a dog who was ready to fight to defend his honor until death. His eyes were passionate as he finished his rant. His cheeks were flushed, and Hermione wondered if he looked like this after he had his "fun."
"What are you smiling about?" His voice broke her thoughts, and she held back a blush and kept on smiling.
"I was thinking about whether you looked like this after you had a little fun." She said bravely, winking at him in a flirtatious manner. It was Charlie, after all. He wouldn't get offended- not the man she knew.
To her surprise, he blushed before speaking again. "You could find out. It would solve both of my problems: my boredom, and mum on my back."
Her jaw dropped for a second in pure shock before she readjusted it and plastered a look of disbelief and outrage on her face. She was not willing to be with someone to "relieve boredom" and get his mum "off his back." She wanted more than that with him.
Wait? She wanted more than that with anyone… did that include him? She supposed that he was a suitable candidate. She hadn't been able to see much of anyone lately, and she did need to do some charity healing in out-of-touch places like where Charlie worked. She supposed that she could knock out both that and residency. Was she really considering moving just because of a half-assed suggestion at a relationship of some sort? Well, she supposed, she did love shocking people.
"Relax, love. You would be so much more than just relieving my boredom. You're a hell of bird, Hermione." Charlie said with a wink, and she could see seriousness behind his jokes and demeanor.
Her eyes narrowed at him, and she wondered what the hell was happening. She wondered if maybe tornadoes had ill effects on witches and wizards who were not accustomed to them. Hmm… Maybe that was it.
But maybe she had some sort of weird desire for Charlie that had secretly been hidden away for years.
She hated America. She hated it.
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