AN: Wow. I don't think I have taken that long of a break from writing ever. But now that I am settled into my first semester in college I should be posting fairly regularly.

I got this challenge a couple months ago and just never got around to it. When I finally did it got a bit out of hand. WAY too many words to be a one shot so I'll probably break it into two or three parts. I hope you like it. Tell me what you think. If you have a prompt that you would like to read leave it in a comment or PM us and either me or Ryan will get right on it!

Ryan: I hope you get around to reading it and to finishing my Narcissa/Lucius.

Love, Jess

Molly Weasley could not be more thrilled to have her family all home for the holidays. The week before Bill, Fleur and Victoire arrived she was manically cleaning. The week before Percy and Penelope flooed in was all about planning-from what time everyone would wake up to where they would sit on Christmas morning. For the days before Charlie came she was hysterical about making enough room for everyone. Unfortunately, Ron, Harry and Hermione were present for every meltdown.

The final result was well worth all the worry, Molly was sure (even if the rest of the lot were less convinced). It was rare that the entire clan got together for so long. In fact, they had not all been at the Burrow at one time since the end of the war. Naturally such a large family tends to scatter as they grow older but it was nice to be surrounded by family again.

The first night that everyone was there Molly prepared enough food to feed an army. Harry, Hermione, Luna, Angelina and little Teddy joined in the festivities, though only for the night for some. The Weasley home was more full than it had been in years. They all gathered around the table to eat but, let's face it, family dinners are rarely about food. The conversations were everywhere. Harry, Ginny and Charlie were debating quidditch with an occasional comment from Ron about the Chudley Cannons which was immediately dismissed, much to his frustration. Percy and Penelope were deep in conversation with Bill and Fleur about their quickly growing baby girl, any parent's favorite subject. Molly Weasley was sitting across from Hermione and having a grand time interrogating her.

"So, Harry said you went on a date with that Nott boy. Rough start that boy had but I hear good things of him. Percy! You know Theo Nott, don't you?"

Percy turned around with a confused look, "Yes. He works at the Ministry. I was concerned about him at first seeing how nearly his entire family were Death Eaters but he seems like a decent bloke. Keeps to himself mostly."

That was enough for Molly to run with, "That's what I expected. Just because you come from a rotten home doesn't mean you can't turn it around for yourself. Sirius Black came from the worst there was and he was one of the best men I ever knew. I'm sure Theo is a nice boy now."

"Yes, we had dinner a couple times. He is nice but very dull. We haven't spoken in a while."

Molly's face visibly fell but she tried to cover it, "Oh, no worries dear. A pretty girl like yourself won't stay single long. I can call an old friend of mine, Cecilia, for you if you like. Poor dear, her son was a squib. Nice boy, though. Some people are scarred by being the only non-magic one in the bunch but not Randal. No, he is going to school to be a poet or writer or some other nonsensical job," she looked over at Hermione and laughed a bit, "He is the same age as you and Ron, I think. You should meet him."

"That's sweet, Mrs. Weasley, but I am really not interested in dating right now. There is so much for me to do at work."

She shook her head and tutted, "You are too young to be so focused on your career. You've got your whole life ahead of you, dear."

And so it went for the rest of dinner until Charlie abandoned his conversation to focus on the plateful of food in front of him. With Charlie freed up Hermione was off the hook (for the moment, anyway).

But after a few "Oh, you really should be married by now, Charlie, and here you are single for another Christmas," and "I'm sure Bill knows loads of nice girls that he could introduce you to. Although, at this age you'll be lucky if any of them are still single," and "It's just not natural!" even Hermione felt bad for him. She, at least according to Molly Weasley, still had a good year or two to find love. Charlie was living on borrowed time and she could not stand the thought of him dying alone.

Hermione shot him a look, trying to express her sympathy to a man that she hardly knew but at least she knew the struggle of being pounced on by his mother. She knew that, when you love your career, you are willing to put it ahead of any romantic entanglements and she hated to see anyone attacked because they enjoyed what they do for a living.

Charlie gave an infinitesimal shrug as if to say, "Eh, what can you do?"

In hindsight that is probably where it all started: Hermione's deep brown eyes locking with his and demanding the center of his attention, Charlie's shrug of the shoulders, quirk of the lips, hint of a dimple hiding under all those freckles and stubble. From there they were transfixed in a way that neither of them truly understood but that was quite obvious to any observer, more so as the hours passed.

Every room one wandered into the other would somehow slip in after without thinking about it. They were magnets, drawn to each other in that inexplicable way. Sometimes they would talk to each other, sometimes to the other occupants of whatever room they found themselves in. They were never too far apart, though, and there was always a palpable charge in the air around them that made anyone near them shift uncomfortably as if they were interrupting a private moment between two lovers. Everyone besides Molly Weasley, that is, who was salivating at their every exchange.

"What kind of dragons are you working with now?" Hermione might say.

"I work with a few at a time but I am with a Norwegian Ridgeback mostly. It is a son of the dragon that we so rudely confiscated from Hagrid all those years ago, actually," Charlie would say with a laugh.

And Molly would lean over and hiss something like, "Look how close they are sitting!" in her husband's ear.

Whatever was in the air that gave them such a craving to be near each other also seemed to steal away any observational skills they might have possessed prior to that night. Hermione Granger had never been so obtuse in her life but she never noticed the crazy looks Ron and Harry were giving her or the face-splitting grin that had yet to leave Mrs. Weasley's face. Charlie did not either, for a long time. An hour probably passed before he noticed something being a bit off but when he did notice he nearly shot out of his seat. With every bit of self control he could muster he kept his composure and calmly leaned very close to Hermione so that only they could hear.

"Hermione, can I see you in the kitchen please?" He asked as quietly and as inconspicuously as possible.

She nodded and followed him out past his beaming mother, mouthing we'll be right back to the roomful of questioning faces.

"Hermione, I have a proposition for you," Charlie said when he was sure that nobody was listening after them. He had one hand on her arm which was terribly distracting and a cool determined look on his face that she could see right through.

Nothing good ever comes from those words, Hermione thought to herself, but her curiosity was piqued. She had hardly known Charlie at all before he had come to spend Christmas with the Weasleys just days before. Though they had gotten on well since he got in, Hermione could hardly think of a proposition he would have for her that would look so nervous about.

She nodded for him to continue and he took a deep breathe and shot her an odd glance.

"Will you be my girlfriend for the week?"

Whatever she had been expecting it to say, that was not it. Hermione Granger was not very often speechless but for a moment her mind could not find any words to respond to his question.

In the end she sputtered out, "What?" which turned out to be sufficient.

Charlie hesitated, distracted by the slight flush in her cheeks. It reminded him of a child who said the wrong answer in class. With every second that he did not answer her eyes got more curious and her blush got a shade darker.

Finally he pulled himself together and delivered the lines that he had been planning out in his mind since they left the family room.

"I've seen how Mum is on your case nearly as much as she is on mine about the whole dating business. I just want a peaceful Christmas, is all, and seeing how we are the last single people in this house I think we can help each other out," he forced out.

His hand caught the edge of his shirt in a curious nervous habit and twisted it between his thumb and index finger. A small muscle in his forearm flexed ever so slightly and flashed a long scar running down the length of his right arm. Hermione quickly forced her eyes away before she could conjure up her own story of how he came to have such a huge scar. No, she had a proposition to ponder presently and was not to be distracted by some sudden fascination with her best friend's brother.

"It would mean lying to your family on Christmas."

Charlie nodded but remained silent.

"You'll be spending most of your holiday with a girl you hardly know."

He nodded again, straight faced.

Hermione smiled, "You must be very desperate to get your mum off your case. I understand the feeling. I'm in."

And so the deception began. The over-the-top flirting in a room full of people, the "secret" meetings, the confession right before they were sent off to bed that they were together. All of it was awkward at first. Everytime she would lean in and whisper flirtatiously into Charlie's ear she could see Ron scowling out of the corner of her eyes. Of course, they had dated a couple year before and called things off less than a month into their courtship. Of course, he had just proposed to Luna after dating for nearly a year. But Ron Weasley was a naturally jealous person, particularly of his brothers. The feeling of inadequacy made him act like a lunatic. All night and for the rest of the week as it would happen Ron walked around mumbling about how "nobody is loyal anymore" and how that was just "disrespectful" and how Charlie was "much too old for her". To her credit, Luna took her fiance's meltdown in stride (assuming that she noticed at all).

"After all these years you would think someone would ask me before going off with my brother," Ron would grumble.

Without a pause Luna would give him an airy smile and spout off some nonsense about how "Zeezles have probably crawled up her nose and clouded her judgement."

What a lovely couple they made.

Ron's bad attitude turned out to be least of her concern, though. After five minutes of Molly Weasley fussing over them Hermione was ready to drop the whole charade. If not for Charlie's big blue eyes begging for her understanding she surely would have. Damn his pitiful eyes piercing into her soul!

"Come on, Hermione, she's not that bad," he said quietly as they walked to their (very separate) bedrooms.

Hermione glared at him, "She hasn't let us out of her sight since we told her."

He shrugged, "That's just Mum. Tomorrow we'll tell her we want to spend some time alone to get to know each other better or something. No mother bear watching over us, no prying eyes that we have to perform for."

She relaxed a bit into the idea. She was becoming, though she hated to admit it to herself, quite fond of Charlie Weasley. It was as if they had known each other for years-which, technically, they had-and were simply picking up where they last left off. Everything with Charlie was effortless and she needed effortless after the last few hours she just endured.

"Sweet dreams," he breathed as he leaned down and kissed her gently between her eyebrows. It was such a sweet gesture that she momentarily forgot that it was all just an act and let herself stare up at him for a fraction of a second too long.

But it didn't take long for her to come to her senses and pull her gaze away from a very flustered Charlie. Obviously someone was looking at them, Hermione reasoned. When she peaked down the stairs she did see a flash of red hair ducking back into a door and she let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

That night Hermione Granger fell asleep with her fingers lightly tracing the place where Charlie Weasley had burned his kiss into her forehead and thought things that only sneak into our minds as we are laying on our beds on the brink of consciousness. She thought about how tender his hands had been, one squeezing her hand gently and the other underneath her chin, pulling her face up to meet his. She thought about how much she longed, if only at night, for someone to kiss her goodnight just like that without any pretenses. She thought, in those last seconds when you are more asleep than awake, how she hoped that there would be more of that kind of acting because she quite enjoyed the feel of his lips on her skin.