A/N
Right now this story won't have a happy ending, but if it suits my fancy I'll add an update. It will probably be the only fic I ever write with no happy ending. I will write more Charlie/Hermione fics so heads up if you like that pairing.
I also switch back and forth from Hermione's p.o.v. and Charlies p.o.v., I hope you didn't get too lost… I guess it needed an added boost instead of it all being Hermione p.o.v. This is also the first smut I've written straight out between a girl/guy so I might be a bit rusty. Eh. It might be awkward and stiff (no pun intended)
Flame all you want, I really don't care ha. I mean I like reviews, but if you seriously want to flame this go ahead. Tell me how awful my smut is, because honestly I would love to know how to make it better
(this is going to be a much longer fic. i have been writing it since may, but am putting this up early. all of that will apply to the whole story.)
It all started out with a simple crush, and that was that. It was the beginning, the end and the middle. It was the very first domino in a trail of disasters. Hermione professed profusely that it was only a crush. Just a crush. Nothing more serious. But in the darkest corners of her mind, the pestering question continued to ask, would a simple crush leave her ending up here?
It was doubtful.
However it all started when she was the naive age of fourteen, lusting after someone who would never, ever return her affections. Why did she have to be so stupid? Honestly, as being labeled as the brightest witch of her age, in this particular matter, she was as fool hearty and dunderheadish as Neville was in Potions.
Even though she was the brightest witch of her age, she longed to be as pretty and foxy as Lavender Brown. She was, however, plainly not. In simple words Hermione was plain and ugly. Her bushy hair was obnoxious, her front teeth hideously attention seeking, and her clothes unobtrusive and frumpy.
She longed to be exotic, and in the spotlight for all the right reasons. To be noticed for her beauty and not her brains, to be fawned over, to be doted upon. But you know what they say, careful what you wish for.
Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. Hermione didn't care about clichés though. She wanted to be pretty. She wanted a strong, handsome, popular wizard to dote on her every move. To make her so wild that she could barely pause a second in her thoughts for other things.
She wanted a wizard to drive her to the brink with madness, with longing, with passion. She wanted to be swept off her feet, wanted the very action of looking into his eyes to make her swoon. She wanted someone to make her heart beat faster, to make her palms sweat, and stomach turn to knots.
Well. Perhaps she didn't want all of those things to happen, but Hermione was a huge fan of the romance section in her local used bookstore, as were her guilty pleasure. She had perhaps hundreds stashed under her bed, at the back of her closet, and stashed every other nook and crany she could possibly think of.
She loved the pure fantasy of it all, they were romance books after all, weren't they? But it was the lurid, graphic shagging that she liked the best. Even if it brought up a pulsing down there, and a tightening in the pit of her stomach.
The detailed scenes also happened to make her cheeks turn a bright red on every occasion, without fail. And once again, she knew she would be lying like the worst of them if she said that she didn't want that.
Hermione knew that Lavender and Pavarti had already had their first kiss. She had walked in on Parvati snogging a Ravenclaw boy the previous year, and Lavender never stopped talking about all of the guys she had happened to snog.
Hermione wasn't cool enough to be included in these conversations, but it didn't stop her from listening. Listening and wanting. Wanting what the two girls had.
She promised herself that one day she would get what the other two had, get that and more. It was a foolish dream, but her only dream. A dream she had not managed to complete up to this point. The only reward her efforts had given her, were two male best friends.
Hermione, at the age of fourteen, was in the constant company of her two best friends, her two only real friends. They were two guys in her year, and tolerated her more so then everyone else. She wasn't exactly the most tolerable person, people had a hard time spending time with her.
It wasn't that Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter were particularly malicious people, but Hermione wasn't the best person to get along with. Being a pubescent girl, with only two male friends for company was tiring to say the least, and most of the people at Hogwarts didn't understand it. But as she was constantly excluded from the 'Lavender and Parvati' show she enjoyed heartily the time she spend with Ron and Harry. Without them, life at Hogwarts tended to be quite lonely.
Hermione finally wised up, and sought the company with none other than Ginny Weasley, Ron's last and youngest sibling. Who happened to be, (ironically enough) his only sister.
Sure, at first the age difference was cumbersome, and hard to work around, but Ginny was extremely intelligent. Ginny just didn't happen to advertise her brilliance like Hermione did, but it was there all the same. And Ginny, growing up with 6 older brothers, she had the maturity of a much older girl. She was funny, and sweet and managed to make Hermione feel welcome and loved, and always knew the things to say to cheer her up.
That being the point, it was now summer holiday, and Ron's mother Molly Weasley had become over fond of Hermione, due to her companionship of her two youngest children. And the only way Molly Weasley could think of repaying her is by offering to let her stay for the completion of the summer term.
Hermione graciously accepted, despite the fact that inwardly she was dreading of spending a whole entire summer with Ron. Not to mention that she would in turn be putting up with the cataclysmic, catastrophic, havoc wreaking twins, Fred and George. Percy, Ron's oldest brother, (that she had met) was also going to be at the family home despite graduating Hogwarts the previous term.
Hermione wasn't going to lie, she had heard enough about Charlie and Bill to be curious enough to want a meeting with them, but the idea of living in a house fit to burst with males (excluding Ginny and Molly Weasley) unnerved her.
But never the less, she humbly found herself lodging with Ginny at her eccentric home, the Burrow. Staying for the summer term wasn't the only surprise she found that summer, as Hermione had also been invited to attend the Quidditch World Cup, as Ron's ministry working father managed to procure tickets to the prestigious event.
Tickets not only for those still staying at home, which included the ever pompous Percy, in addition to the twins, Ginny, and Harry, Ron and herself, but also extended to Ron's two remaining siblings, Bill and Charlie.
Hermione hadn't heard much about the last two, the eldest of the Weasley clan, except Bill was a curse breaker for Gringots wizarding bank, (how daring and adventurous she thought), and Charlie worked with dragons in Romania.
Why on earth he would want to study dragons, well, that was simply beyond Hermione. But she would in fact get a chance on meeting the two elusive brothers, as they as well would be attending the World Cup.
It was going to be quite the interesting summer holiday, but Hermione didn't care. She looked forward to it. More than she would have herself admit.
So when the morning Bill and Charlie were supposed to arrive, Hermione found herself nearly pacing in the kitchen with anticipation.
"Hermione, dear, are you all right?" Mrs. Weasley had spotted her and had a concerned look upon her face.
"Yes Mrs. Weasley. I am perfectly alright." Hermione sighed, and turned on her heel pacing the length of the kitchen once more.
"Well, you seem a bit nervous. Let me fix you a mug of hot tea. And how many times do I need to tell you to call me Molly?"
"Sorry…. Molly. A cup of tea would be nice."
Mrs. Weasley set herself about bustling around the kitchen, re arranging things here and there. "Well, Hermione dear, you may not be nervous, but I am dreadfully so! Bill and Charlie are both supposed to be here within the hour!"
Hermione merely looked up at Mrs. Weasley and gulped. Her fingers drummed impatiently and anxiously on the table, and her foot bounced in time with the drumming of her fingers.
"You haven't had a chance to meet either one of them, have you?"
"No I haven't. I never really saw much of Percy, or Fred and George and I go to school with them."
Mrs. Weasley stopped, and fixed her inscrutable gaze on Hermione. "So none of my boys hang out at all?"
"Not really?" Hermione bit her lip, and reached out to take the steaming mug of tea Mrs. Weasley was holding out to her.
"I am not sure what I expected, but I should have expected this." It looked like Mrs. Weasley was about to say something more, but she was cut off by two loud cracks, marking the sudden appearance of Bill and Charlie Weasley.
For all of the hype that Ron created about his two eldest brothers, they perhaps were a tad disappointing. Bill was tall and harnessed an edgy primal sort of handsome, and Charlie had the well rounded classic good looks.
However, Hermione immediately picked up that the two males were not as they seemed to appear. Bill was not in fact edgy or primal, but sweet, gentle and soft spoken. His shaggy hair and fang may have screamed dangerous but he was anything but. Charlie however, contradicted every ounce of classic good looks he possessed. The way he held himself, the way he gazed around the room, well, that screamed danger.
And yet more interesting was the aura she got off of them.
Bill Weasley may have oozed coolness, and what also may be defined as swagger, but Charlie Weasley dripped in sexual prowess. Hermione distantly wondered why, or even how Charlie managed to get the attractive, animalistic genes from his two parents, where Bill had landed them in looks. It was a small wonder that the "animalistic" genes ended with Charlie, until the last and youngest Weasley.
Perhaps Charlie just was devilishly selfish even in the womb and had not spared any for his younger brothers until Ginny came along.
When Charlie Weasley smiled, it was as if the whole world stopped and stared. He didn't just emit sexual confidence, he exuded it, he possessed it and embodied everything arrogance
Charlie managed to exhale desire with every breath he took. He stood there, in the slightly too small kitchen of the burrow, emanating such powerful waves of 'I'm hot, fuck me' that it was all Hermione could manage to do without jumping him right then and there.
Which would have been quite the disaster.
How dare he, lean against the door frame, his muscles rippling beneath a too-tight black v-neck? How could he think he was allowed to smirk down at her, his hair thoroughly disheveled looking as if many fingers hand run their pleasurable course through it, his blue eyes dark and smoldering, the hint of lust rimming the edges?
Did he honestly believe it was even appropriate, to quirk those moistened pink lips? Did he think it was alright for him to stretch fluidly and sensually, teasingly giving her a glimpse of the ginger hair peeking out of his jeans? Was it some sort of personal vendetta against her, purposefully allowing her an ample glance at a flickering tattooed tail peeking out of the deep v of his shirt, which led her obsessive imagination concluded that could only belong to a dragon?
And when he stalked closer, like a lion hunting a gazelle, the pure aroma wafting from him in waves, spicy cologne, and musky male. Power, it suggested, strength it promised, satisfaction it guaranteed. In that moment, Hermione didn't care about anything else but Charlie Weasley. She wanted him. No, she needed him.
She needed to harness everything he offered, she wanted for him to give her the most amazing night of her life, and every night after that. But all of that left her mind when he stopped directly in front of her, and smirked.
"You must be Granger."
"H-h-.. My name is Hermione."
Charlie laughed at that, a deep chuckle that sent shivers down her spine. "Oh, sweetheart, I know."
"You know? How… do you know?" A blush was staining her cheeks, coloring them a vivid pink.
"Oh I have heard many things about you." He winked, reached forward tucked a hair behind her ear, tapped her nose, then turned and walked away leaving me speechless.
Right before he reached the kitchen door he paused, and called back, "I hope I will be seeing a lot more of you Hermione Granger." And with that he was gone.
Who in Merlin's name did he think he was talking to her like that? Oh right, Charlie Weasley, Witch Weeklys most elusive and sought after Bachelor, third year running. He felt entitled to flirt shamelessly with any female present in any room, at any time.
He was clearly the love 'em, leave 'em type, so why on earth was Hermione falling for his disgusting charms, and dirty tricks?
Did Hermione honestly think she had a chance of 'Taming the Dragon Tamer'? Charlie went after women, tall, leggy, willowy, big breasted women. Not fourteen year old girls, who were bushy haired and fat.
And yet she continued to delude herself with the possibility that things between her and Charlie might actually progress into something. She may have been right, but she was also horrifically wrong.
A/N
So I have a TON planned for this story, but i have 4k written and it's spread across like 10 different settings and I decided to put the first "part" out there to give me motivation to finish the rest.
If you have a request on the story you can leave a review or shoot me a message, i LOVE feedback. Also reviews are nice.