Hello everyone! Here is Chapter 9 of "Nocturnal." I know this chapter is longer than my previous ones, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Chapter 10 will be posted this Saturday night! Thanks for reading.


Chapter 9: A Somber Birthday

After spending the day exploring the Tepid dragon pen, Charlie and Hermione washed up, and then apparated to Woan that very night, under an ocean of stars. As Charlie had explained to Hermione already that the eatery they were going to, Garden Aplenty, served more of a high-end, sophisticated class of witches and wizards in Romania, she had transfigured her plain shirt and jeans into a dark blue blouse, paired together with a simple, black skirt that hugged her hips and barely touched her knees, while Charlie wore a plain, white, buttoned-down dress shirt with black slacks. His short bright, red hair was combed off to the side, styled and gelled as if he was a dashing businessman, rather than a rowdy dragon-handler.

Before entering into the restaurant, Hermione looked down the busy night street of Woan and saw that nocturnal customers were still going about their activities, with Tallyfine's Bakery hosting more than a fine number of guests, as all of the rest of the shops' lights shone brightly, as if Woan was a stage and its occupants were all cast mates acting in a Romanian drama, set to the ballad of a cool breeze and a chorus of voices.

Charlie and Hermione stepped inside Garden Aplenty and the first thing that Hermione noticed was that a large, white piano was centered in the middle of the room, a single spotlight on it, charmed to play itself, its keys depicting a soft tune that penetrated Hermione's ears like a rustling of diamonds among dark forest greens. The tables in the dimly-lit restaurant were situated around it upon a smooth, polished wooden floor, as a low rumble of voices from the already-seated attendees crept up to a medium roar.

"Table for two," a squeaky voice suddenly asked.

Charlie and Hermione looked down and saw a house-elf looking up at them expectantly, it wearing a flat, brown wool tweed hat across its chest like a plate of armor, tied across its back with a thin piece of string, along with men's boxer shorts.

"Uh, yeah, two please," Charlie said a bit uneasily, unsure as to how he felt about this house-elf showing them to their seats as he noticed Hermione had crossed her arms over her chest, whilst a harrowing look infiltrated her usually warm, brown eyes.

With its over-large ears flapping away atop its head, the house-elf led them to an empty table, donned in a fine, white cloth near the far end of the space, it situated next to a glossy, stained-glass window. As Charlie and Hermione took their seats across from each other, the house-elf snapped its fingers as a candle suddenly appeared, it alighting with a flickering, yellow flame, while a thin, glass vase also materialized, as in it, a green vine rested, with red roses beginning to blossom over it.

"What can Wormey get for mister and missus tonight," the house-elf piped in a shrill voice.

"Wormey," Hermione repeated, both looking and sounding confused.

"Yes, my name is Wormey," the house-elf replied, with a large smiled fixated over its face.

"Well, Wormey," Charlie began, feeling odd calling the house-elf a name he would normally associate with mere snacks for his smallest of dragons, "this is the first time me and Hermione have been here. Do you have any menus for us to look at?"

With another snap of his twig-like fingers, two rolls of thick parchment appeared, one in front of Charlie, as the other floated down in front of Hermione.

"I'll give mister and missus a few minutes," Wormey said, and scuttled away.

As Charlie started to look over dining items, Hermione's voice interrupted his thinking as she stated, "Oh, how awful."

Charlie looked up at her and asked innocently, "What? Does nothing here look good to you?"

Hermione redirected her gaze at him as she explained, "No, I mean the house-elves."

"What about them," Charlie inquired.

"Look at them," Hermione instructed lightly. Charlie did as he was told and saw that about half a dozen house-elves were bobbing their way in between tables, rushing about like a mad dash of pearls that had been scattered across the floor. "They look like slaves."

Charlie was about to say, 'Well they are,' but thought better of it and instead replied, "Hermione, we don't know how they're treated; we just got here. For all we know, they could have weeks off at a time and paid vacations."

Hermione looked over at him with a look that spoke volumes, it nearly screaming that she didn't believe him in the slightest.

"Why don't we ask Wormey when he gets back then," Charlie suggested, quirking up an eyebrow, "he seems like a nice right fellow…I'm sure he would tell us."

"We should do that," Hermione agreed, nodding her head, a look of determination crossing over her face.

After a minute's quiet of the pair looking over their individual carte du jour, Charlie broke the silence as he questioned, "So, does anything appeal to your tastes tonight?"

Hermione looked up at him once again and answered, "Well, I guess everything looks fine but I can't understand it."

"Oh, sorry! I forgot that this is all in Romanian," Charlie exclaimed, growing wide-eyed at his hiccup. "Yeah, let's see what we got here," he started again, turning his menu towards Hermione and pointing with his finger. "This here is lamb chops and vegetables; the next one is roast beef and dried pudding...hmm, I never heard of 'dried pudding' before; there's also some ethnic Romanian foods, like smoked bacon, cabbage rolls, corn meal with salted cheese and sour cream, and my personal favorite, bean soup with hocks."

"The wizarding community incorporates Muggle foods in Romania," Hermione asked with interest.

"Yep," Charlie responded, nodding his head, "unlike too much at home. Sometimes I think witches and wizards back in Great Britain are behind the rest of the magic peoples in other parts of the world, especially in other parts of Europe; that's what it seems like at least."

"I think it's a great idea," Hermione said. "It could give a different perception in what some witches and wizards think of Muggles…it could even have a positive effect."

"You're right," Charlie concurred, "the only limitation would be is to push for witches and wizards back home to try Muggle things. I mean, you see how some react to dad playing around with Muggle artifacts."

"Yes but your dad places importance in, well, sort of strange Muggle objects, like spark plugs, which is something regular Muggles would not even think twice about," Hermione countered with well-intent.

Charlie opened his mouth, then closed it, opened it once more, before snapping it shut. Seeming to think her statement over, he finally responded, "I guess you're right about that."

As the two smiled over to each other, the same high-pitched voice Charlie and Hermione were now growing accustomed to, abruptly broke their milieu as Wormey asked, "Has mister and missus decided on what to eat yet?"

Charlie looked over at Hermione who gave a nod of her head. Charlie then directed his attention back onto the elf as he said, "We have, but before we tell you what we want, we have some questions for you if that's alright?"

"Questions…for Wormey," the house-elf piped, its big, tennis-ball shaped eyes started to swim with unshed tears.

"Wormey, are you okay," Hermione asked in concern, as Charlie took in the elf's rapid outward change.

"Yes," Wormey nearly whispered, "but Wormey has never before been asked if it is alright to ask Wormey questions."

"Oh," Hermione stuttered, clearly not expecting the reason for the house-elf's eroding placating façade, "all we wanted to know is if you are treated fairly."

This appeared to be too much for Wormey to handle, for the house-elf threw himself face down upon the floor with its skinny arms outstretched in front of him, crying out, "Oh, mister and missus is too kind; much too kind for Wormey to serve!"

"Wormey…Wormey, it's okay," Hermione tried to console, getting up from her chair and kneeling towards the whimpering house-elf, while Charlie repeated her actions, not paying any attention to the prying eyes of the tables nearby.

As Wormey started to get his emotions back in check, Hermione patted its back albeit somewhat awkwardly, as if she was consoling a small child.

"Are you going to be okay," Hermione asked tenderly.

The house-elf, who had since picked itself up off of the floor, looked over at Hermione, its face masking one of a waterfall that had long dried up, its orb-like eyes seeming to grow twice its normal size.

"You is not a normal witch," Wormey stated, before turning to Charlie and saying, "and you is not a normal wizard."

"You could count us as such," Charlie replied back, giving his shoulders a small shrug while grinning over at Hermione afterwards, making her do the same. "So do you think you're going to be alright," Charlie questioned, noticing he did not answer Hermione's question.

Wormey nodded his head, as he slowly stood to his feet but not before grabbing the white tablecloth and harshly blowing his nose into it, drawing scandalous looks from close by dinner guests. Hermione sat back in her seat, while Charlie made to follow her actions, though prior to doing so, he drew his wand and whispered, "EVANESCO," making Wormey's dried bogies disappear into nothingness.

"What did mister and missus want to ask Wormey," the house-elf started, its large eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

Hermione gave Charlie a quick glance before she said calmly, "Well, we wanted to know if you're treated fairly at this restaurant."

Once again Wormey's eyes started to water while his lips started to quiver, before the house-elf was able to hold its emotions in check as he answered in a wavering voice, "Oh yes, Wormey is treated very fairly here in Romania and in Garden Aplenty!"

"But how is it that you're able to speak English," Charlie noted, "You don't seem like you have any type of accent on you."

"Wormey is from Wales, mister and missus, I was freed by the house of my master's!"

Charlie noticed that Hermione's face scrunched up in misunderstanding, as she voiced, "You were freed by your master's?"

"Yes," the house-elf said, it's voice dropping by several volumes, "Wormey served a very powerful but bad family."

Hermione sensed that this was as far as Wormey was willing to speak about his past family, as she saw that the house-elf was starting to look around in alarm as if it thought a bolt of lightning was going to crash down upon him for even thinking to articulate ill nuances of his past overlords.

"So how'd you come to work here in Garden Aplenty," Charlie queried.

"After Wormey was set free, Wormey had to find employment, because Wormey likes to serve!" At this, Charlie looked over at Hermione whose brow was furrowed into a single line on her head. "The wizard who owned Garden Aplenty saw Wormey and asked if I would like to come and work for him, and Wormey said 'yes!'" The house-elf, conversing now of labor, was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, bubbly with excitement.

"Do you get paid for the work you do, or do you get any days off," Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, Wormey gets paid by this," the house-elf proclaimed, pounding its tweed hat proudly as if it was a prized trophy, "this is my thirty-seventh!"

"Thirty-seventh," Charlie repeated incredulously.

"Yes, each for the number of weeks Wormey has worked here," the house-elf stated.

"Well, I guess that's something then, isn't it," Hermione remarked more to herself.

"So has mister and missus decided what they would like to eat yet?"

"Um, yeah, yeah we have," Charlie finalized, nodding his head. "Hermione, what would you like?"

"I'll have the bean soup with hocks," she said.

"Really? You're going to try it," Charlie questioned, looking rather amazed.

"You said it's your personal favorite, so I'm willing to try it. Also, while we're in Romania, we might as well try their local foods."

Charlie nodded his head at her, turned to Wormey and said, "Make the two bean soups and hocks," holding up two fingers. "Also, could we get two glasses of Pumpkin Juice as well?"

The house-elf nodded his head, saying, "Wormey will report this to the kitchens right away, mister and missus!" With another snap of his fingers, their menus disappeared as he scurried away from their table, nearly bowling over three other house-elves in the process.

As Hermione watched him go, Charlie said, "Satisfied?"

Hermione looked over at him questioningly, she relayed, "That Wormey gets some compensation for the work that he does?"

Charlie nodded his head as Hermione went on, "At least it's something."

"I think it's a pretty efficient system, actually."

Hermione gazed over at him for a long moment before she asked lightly, "Would you like to get paid in tweed hats for your work on the dragon reserve, Charlie?"

"Seeing as I don't own any of those types of hats myself, I think it's a fair bargain," he replied, making her laugh.

As the piano continued to softly play in the background, greeting each patron as they entered, dined, and exited the fancy bistro, a smooth rhythm of conversation continued to flow around each table and each guest, intertwining with stories that were laughed at, condolences that were passed to, and sparks that ignited.

"Charlie, why did you bring me here," Hermione asked him after a while, waiting for their food, as he softly tickled one of the roses that had bloomed upon their initial seating at their table.

"I told you, I began thinking about it ever since we came to Romania," he reiterated though he felt himself flush in the candlelight.

"Was there another reason," she questioned.

He looked over at her, seeing that she had a genuine curiosity about her that was plastered over her face.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well it's not like you thought of bringing me here to this restaurant the moment we stepped foot in Romania," Hermione replied.

"I don't think there has to be a specific reason to take you out, do you," he contradicted.

"No, I never said there had to be, but something tells me there is a specific reason," she said back. "We could've as easily stayed at your place for the evening and had dinner there."

"And have you miss out visiting the only wizarding community in all of Romania," Charlie thwarted, throwing his hands into the air. "You're not complaining, are you?" By his question, Hermione thought she heard a lace of trepidation in his voice, an ounce so small that she might have just imagined it.

"No, I'm not complaining at all! I think this place is actually lovely," she constituted.

"The area or this restaurant?"

"Both," she responded simply with a small smile.

"I wanted you to have a good time here, in Romania, Hermione, with me," Charlie said softly over to her, the burning candles and red roses situated between them. "I wanted to take you out before but I didn't because of mum."

As Charlie's words penetrated Hermione's system, her brain activity kicked into overdrive while her heart began to hammer out of time. Did Charlie Weasley just say what Hermione thought he did? She continued to look over at him, though he didn't seem to notice as his eyes now were focused upon the small flame that was dancing, waving off to one side every now and then. To Hermione, he seemed to be playing a guessing game with himself, betting on when the flame would finally extinguish and be no more.

Seeing that he wasn't going to elaborate any further, Hermione probed, "You wanted to take me out before?"

Charlie then looked up at her, his eyes betraying him to a look of anxiety, while he appeared to try to work out to how best approach this topic of conversation.

"Well, yeah," he said after a tense moment, a moment in which Hermione had held her breath, wondering if she was in a dreamland of sorts, bobbing along to a fanciful tune existing in the background, an ambiance of dim lights and red roses surrounding her, while Charlie's vulnerable softness emerged.

"Why," she asked in a whisper, not knowing if she wanted to hear his answer or not.

He sighed, a long, drawn-out sigh, as he continued, "You know, I…I like spending time with you. I mean, yes, we've only really known each other for the better part of a week, but it seems like it's been much longer than that, don't you think? The only way that I can explain it is that I like being around you, if that makes any sense. You're comforting in a way that I don't know anything about. It's weird feeling this way because I never did before."

The longer Charlie talked, the harder Hermione's heart hammered against her insides. Her thoughts about him mirrored his feelings over her. It was as if the two were waltzing around a topic neither one wanted to breach, not because they feared of what was to come, but because they were unsure it could ever become a reality.

"Can I ask why you didn't take me out before," Hermione asked, not wanting to sound pretentious, but she was interested in knowing why Charlie waited until they were nearly a continent away before asking her to dinner.

"Yes, you can," he said, flashing her a polite smile.

When he didn't go on, Hermione rolled her eyes and rephrased, "May I ask why you didn't take me out before?"

He gulped loudly. "My mum, mainly," he answered, looking straight into her eyes, not breaking contact.

"Your mum…I don't understand."

"If I'd take you out to dinner, she would've hounded me, actually, she probably would've cornered the two of us, asking if there was anything going on. Or worse, she may have assumed that there was something going on," he relayed.

His answer deflated her a bit. Although she didn't show it on the outside, at least she thought she didn't, his words stung her.

Erecting a defense, she said, "But you went out with that one witch, Desmiralda."

"That was only because I would never have heard the end of it from mum if I didn't take her out for at least one date," he replied. "It was a harmless dinner in my opinion, and truthfully, while I wouldn't say it was a waste of my time, it felt more like a deed that had to be done, rather than something I wanted to do. With you, I wanted to take you out, which is why we are here right now."

Helium began pumping back into Hermione's heart with his clarification, making her swell up with admiration with his words.

"I'm glad you asked me," she noted, "because I like spending my time with you, too."

Charlie smiled at her, though it was not his usual smile; it was dazzling one, a smile that could light up Big Ben all the way back in London during the harshest of winter nights. It made Hermione feel warm inside, instituting feelings she never really had for anyone else, not even Viktor or Ron; it made her feel both uneasy, yet the same time, excited.

Before any further exchanges could be made, Wormey appeared, levitating a large, round platter of dinner plates and glasses of Pumpkin Juice before him. Snapping his fingers, two dishes and glasses gently floated over from the tray onto the table.

"This looks delicious," Hermione commented, looking down at her plate.

"And smells delicious, too," Charlie added, his throat emitting a low hum of pleasure. "Thanks, Wormey."

Wormey seemed to enlarge with pride, basking in his duties he performed so well.

"Mister and missus is too kind to Wormey," the house-elf remarked, wiping away at an escaped tear. With that, he hurried away from them, though Hermione noticed that he was wearing a large smile like it was his own medallion of honor.

The pair started digging into their food, talking with one another about how the rest of their week was going to go. Besides filling out forms for the new dragon reserve tomorrow, most of their week was going to be contained on the dragon reserve itself.

While Charlie continued to talk, Hermione noted his excitement over the new dragon reserve of Wales. She thought that while Charlie liked being away from home to participate in a dangerous job in a foreign land, he missed the Burrow and he missed his family; he told her before that because he had been away so much, he practically missed watching Ron and Ginny grow up…he missed spending winters and summers with them. And whilst his mum seemed transfixed on the idea of setting him up with the perfect witch to settle down with, Charlie loved his parents – all of this was crystal clear to Hermione.

However, what was shady about him was his relationship, if one could coin it like that, with Hermione. While it was true that their companionship was growing more and more complex, inviting her to dinner added more layers upon those of which she didn't fully understand. In reality, Hermione really wasn't completely truthful with herself about what she had with him, and she had a thought that Charlie hadn't been either.

While it wasn't love that she shared for him, for they had only known each other for a week, there was an emotion that she did feel for him: intimacy…she wanted it with him. She also wanted to spend her time with him, because as he mentioned earlier, there was a certain sentiment that swept through her whenever she was with him; it was hard to describe, but when they were apart, Hermione didn't quite feel whole. Perhaps Hermione felt lonely, as even though she had friends, she wanted someone to touch, someone who would hold her, some who could comfort her, someone who was hers.

As these feelings swirled inside of Hermione, walloping dents into her heart, she wondered if Charlie was feeling the same thing. Would he, someone who had a lot more experience than she when it came to relationships, even give a second thought to her, a witch who was seven years younger than himself? Based on what he had told her, she guessed that he had. But was there a chance that he hadn't?

'Yes,' Hermione told herself, 'that was also very much a possibility.'


Charlie had took the tab and paid for dinner, much to Hermione's dismay, while they both wished Wormey well while he practically begged for them to come back as they left. Charlie then apparated Hermione directly into his flat, their stomachs were full of bean soup and hocks.

However, before either one could do or say anything, a knock was heard upon Charlie's door.

He walked over and opened it just as a young man that looked to be Charlie's own age yelled his name.

"Charlie! How've you been? What's this with you not letting me know you're back in Romania? I've been checking in here ever since I came back from work!"

"What are you, a dog, Terrance? You're acting like a lost pup whose been waiting for its owner to come back after a long day of work," Charlie said, laughing. "Come in, come in, I want you to meet someone."

As Terrance came into Charlie's flat, Hermione took in his appearance: he had a brown buzz cut, his head containing miniscule bits of hair that was soft to the touch; he was tan from working out in the sun…he could've fooled a passerby by telling them he frolicked all day on a beach; he was muscular, even more so than Charlie, as she noted that his t-shirt bulged under his frame; when he smiled, he had two dimples appear on either side of his mouth; as he also was taller than Charlie, though not by much.

Terrance stopped short at seeing Hermione as he turned his head halfway around his shoulder, his dark green eyes still trained on her, "You picked her up from town?"

"What? No, no, no, nothing like that: Terrance, this is Hermione Granger, Hermione, this is my best mate, Terrance Wriley," Charlie introduced.

"Oh, yes, I thought she looked a bit familiar," Terrance noted in a smooth and even tone of voice, walking forward and softly shaking Hermione's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," Hermione said. "Have you seen me before," she tacked on, catching Terrance's 'familiarity' comment.

"I've seen your pictures in the paper back home," he replied. "I've from Wales and, well, your story with Harry Potter and Charlie's youngest brother, Ron, is quite legendary if I do say so myself, even if it isn't too much of a catch all the way out here in Romania. Did you two arrive together?"

At this, Charlie said, "Yes, we arrived this morning actually. Hermione, here, decided to take up a post with our department."

"Really," Terrance asked, his eyes growing slightly wider than what was accustomed of them, "have a hobby of caring after dragons, magical creatures, or both?"

"Both, actually," Hermione answered after a slight hesitation, "I can't say that I've had much experience with dragons; only two."

"Two," Terrance questioned. "You mean there was another incident involving you and a dragon, besides the one that cleaned house of Gringotts Bank?"

Hermione nodded her head, quickly stating, "It was back in first year when Hagrid showed me, Harry, and Ron a dragon egg he'd won."

"Norberta," Charlie said softly, making Terrance nod his head in understanding.

"Ah yes, I remember her. It's a shame we had to put her down a few years back," Terrance stated.

"You mean that she's…dead," Hermione questioned, whispering the word 'dead.'

"'Fraid so," Terrance replied, "she picked up a rather peculiar disease that she couldn't quite shake."

Hermione fixated her gaze onto Charlie, seeming as if she would only believe this story if he confirmed it, which he did with one small nod.

"How awful," Hermione remarked, "if Hagrid ever found out, he'd be devastated."

"Well, to spare him from this emotional magnitude, I'd say he's better off not knowing," Terrance commented, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

After a moment's worth of silence, perhaps the trio felt that Norberta's memory deserved as much, Terrance turned towards Charlie and said, "So, this is our last week here, right…before we head over to Wales?"

"Yeah," Charlie said back, "our final week. It's going to be strange, leaving this reserve when we've been here for so long."

"I know what you mean. It's just…yeah," Terrance echoed, words lost on him before he had a chance to speak them. Hermione saw that his eyes had glazed over, as if he was sifting through his memories he had of this particular dragon reserve, both good and bad. "Well, it was bound to happen sometime, wasn't it, with the war being over back in Great Britain?"

"Shouldn't it be exciting for you, though, for both of you," Hermione said aloud, making the two dragon handlers look over at her. "This is like a new phase of your life both of you are about to take."

"It's exciting," Terrance noted, beating Charlie to the punch, "but I can't say that life's been bad to me here. Yeah, there were a few small hiccups and days that I wished had ended sooner than they did," he continued, his face darkening as if a great bat had spread its wings over his features, "but this was my life after Hogwarts."

"It's hard to describe," Charlie chipped in, "but you're right, it is exciting."

"Yeah, I agree, but anyway, Charlie, before I head out, I actually did have to see you for a reason," Terrance remarked.

"What's up," Charlie asked back.

"Director Mulligan won't be here for the rest of the week and he asked me if you and Phillip will do the graveyard shift for the rest of the week, starting tomorrow."

"Yeah, that won't be a problem," Charlie responded, though there was mild edge to his voice.

Terrance seemed to pick up on it as well, shooting back, "I know no one wants to be paired with Birdbrain Phil, the Witless Wonder, but someone has to be, right?"

"Did Director Mulligan say where he was going?"

"He's taking a trip over to Canada, to see the Victorian Shaler in its natural habitat before two of its eggs get shipped over the ocean," Terrance answered. "He wants you to give some attention to Chinese Fireball in the Alarm encampment, as two of them are nesting."

"Okay, well, I'll take the graveyard shift with Phil, then," Charlie said.

"Why don't you bring Hermione with you? I'm you could find certain 'activities' for yourselves that would make your time useful together, right, Charlie? I mean, that's what I heard from Afina. I think she said something along the lines of you had 'charmed her with your wand'. Am I right?"

Hermione, not understanding exactly what Terrance meant but getting the general idea, looked over at Charlie, whose face exploded with red, looking like a strawberry punch bowl had been dumped over him. While Hermione felt disheartened, Terrance continued to laugh loudly.

"While you get rid of that flush off your face, I got to go. I have a special night planned with Mabyn, a Muggle girl I'm meeting in Brasov."

"Haven't you already met some girl named Mabyn before," Charlie inquired, the red on his face retreating at a slow pace.

Terrance paused and thought, before saying with a shrug, "I can't say for sure…I met a lot of girls whose names start with 'M'."

As Charlie shook his head, Terrance feigned hurt, replying with, "What? I can't help the fact that many girls have me at the top of their list to help keep their bed sheets warm at night! Although, most of the time when we wake up in the morning, the bed sheets are usually on the floor."

With a wave of his large hand and a gentlemanly bow to Hermione, Terrance departed from the department, leaving Charlie and Hermione alone.

Hermione, with Terrance's sudden absence, said, "That's your best mate, huh?"

Charlie laughed, one with apprehension, responding, "Yeah, his morals concerning the opposite sex are kind of, well, not there, but he's a good guy and all. Like I told you before, if it wasn't for him, Phillip wouldn't even be alive right now."

"What did he mean by the graveyard shift," Hermione questioned, looking up at him.

"Oh, that's where we, meaning Phillip and I, stay up all night to make sure nothing happens with our dragons. It sometimes can get a bit boring, but if you join us, maybe it won't be so bad," Charlie answered with a small smile.

"It sounds fun," Hermione started, however, Terrance's words slammed into her like a bag of bricks as she said rather coldly, "but don't think that you'll be able to wand me with your charm, or whatever rubbish Terrance said."

Charlie stared over at Hermione with his mouth hanging slightly open, still as a stone statue. For a quick second, Hermione thought that he had been hit with a spell by some unknown assailant that turned him into a gargoyle.

"Don't listen to him," Charlie finally muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands, casting his eyes down upon his carpeted floor. "It meant nothing."

"Probably not to you, and not to Terrance, but I know how girls think, Charlie. We take these types of things more seriously," Hermione voiced, her tunes now turning soft.

"Well if you really want to know the truth, he's right: I slept with a lot of other woman before I went back home."

With his admission, Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. She didn't want to hear any more but she didn't trust her vocal chords to issue any sound at all at that time.

"I did it because it made me forget about my ex-girlfriend," he continued on, now looking straight into Hermione's eyes as if he was seeking out what she thought about him now. "It wasn't right but with my depression and drinking, it was an easy solution, which really didn't help me at all. I can't speak for Terrance and I won't, but that's what it was with me."

Charlie's sea-blue eyes continued to bore into Hermione's warm brown ones, as if he was hoping to found just a mere sliver of understanding from her. After several long seconds ticked by, stretching into what passed by like hours, she gave him a small nod of her head.

He nodded his own, as if accepting of the fact that Hermione was considerate of what he went through, not that it was any excuse for his past deeds. From an evening that had started nearly perfect at Garden Aplenty, it sure had evaporated faster than a cube of ice in a boiler.

"Well, do you think we should get some sleep then," he offered.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "I just need to wash up before then."

The two then worked around one another, taking turns in the bathroom, before getting ready to turn in. However, it was then that Charlie encountered a small problem.

"Hermione," he stated rather slowly, making her look over at him as she took a tip of water in his kitchen, "you don't mind sleeping in my bed, do you?"

"Sleeping in your bed? Isn't that space for you?"

"Normally, but I only have one bedroom…and there's two of us."

"Oh," was all she managed, a light pink coating the base of her neck. "I'm fine with sleeping on the couch, then."

"The couch? Hermione, you can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch," Charlie said, holding back on scoffing at her idea.

"Charlie, it's your bed and you deserve to sleep in it. I'll be perfectly fine sleeping on the couch…it looks comfortable anyway," she fired back.

"Absolutely not. Do think that mum raised a bunch of barbarians with no class? You're sleeping in my bed and I'm sleeping on the couch, end of story," Charlie tried to finalize.

"Charlie-,"

"No, Hermione," he cut her off forcefully, "that isn't a negotiation. If it comes down to it, I'll carry you to my room and lock you inside of it until morning."

With this, Charlie waved his wand and a moment later, dark blue bed sheets along with two pillows, flew out of Charlie's bedroom and started folding itself into the corners of the couch's cushions.

"Charlie, I don't feel comfortable about this," Hermione stated, folding her arms over her chest. "It feels like I'm kicking you out of your own bedroom."

He smiled as he walked over to her, coming to a halt not even a step away. He was so close to her that the smell of vanilla mixed with cherry leaves drifted into his nostrils, placating him.

"I'll be fine, Hermione. Don't worry about it."

Hermione studied him for a brief moment before she started to nod her head, conceding defeat.

As she started to drift away, Charlie said, "Good night, Hermione."

Now making her way down his short hall to his bedroom, she half-turned her head, saying, "I still don't feel comfortable about this, you know."

She heard Charlie's laughter as she reached his bedroom door. Walking inside of it, she took one last look out at him, seeing him wave his wand, casting his living area into total darkness. He sighed as he lay down, just as she softly closed his door behind her.

Hermione walked over to his queen-size bed and climbed atop of its maroon-colored covers. She pulled them back and snuggled underneath them, her head resting against his pillows. While it was true that she felt bad about Charlie sleeping on his couch whilst he could've slept much more comfortably on his bed, Hermione thought that his mattress was rather relaxing.

Waiting for sleep to take her, Hermione thought about her day: spending a good amount of it in the presence of dragons and Charlie's ever-helpful guide to them; going to dinner with Charlie and spending time alone with him in Romania, though she felt that he was keeping something from her; meeting Wormey and feeling happy that he was at least being compensated for his work; and finally, meeting Terrance. While she did think that he was a nice guy, and rather handsome at that, Hermione didn't particularly like his nighttime habits, though he was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions.

As her eyes drifted close, one final thought came to her: Charlie was definitely keeping something from her, given all that he told her (and not told her) during the dinner together. Hermione then drifted away into her own subconscious, dreaming of tweed hats, crushed pastries, and nesting dragons.


The next afternoon, after Charlie turned in some paperwork and Hermione exchanged some of her money for Woan Bani, the exchanged currency in the wizarding community in Romania, at the Romanian Unitary Magical Republic, Charlie had to run back to collect a file he forgot to take, as Hermione elected to stay behind, wandering around in Tomes and Treatises, the bookstore in Woan.

Looking at the spines of the thousands of books packed into the small, oval-shaped shop, she came upon a fat binding titled, 10,001 Facts about Dragons: A Guide of Intelligence to Understanding their World and Perceptions.

This book instantly triggered what Charlie had told her the day before about Phillip: that he could 'throw at you random facts about all different kinds of dragons not even found on this continent.'

As Hermione glossed over the book's pages, she thought about Phillip's story Charlie had told her. Although they hadn't talked about it since then, Hermione still felt that there was something strange with had happened to him; it was as if someone had shoved together mismatched puzzle pieces that didn't fit, causing its picture to be distorted.

However, remembering that Phillip's birthday was that night, and the fact that she wanted to attend, partially because she felt that not many people liked him, she took the book to the counter.

As she waited behind an aged witch in line, a voice from behind her suddenly said, "Brushing up on your dragon facts, are you?"

Hermione whipped around and saw Terrance standing behind her, a friendly smile on his face.

"Terrance, what're you doing here," she asked in a slightly startled manner.

"I was sending a letter to my brother back home at the Delivery Assembly next door. I saw you inside and though I'd join you on your little book hunt," he replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I have to say that I'm surprised Charlie isn't around with you."

"Why is that," she asked.

"He seems to be fond of you, is all," Terrance answered.

"And how do you know that?"

"I saw the way he looked at you last night. He hasn't looked at anyone like that before."

At this, Hermione faced him and said, quirking up an eyebrow, "No one?"

Terrance shook his head from side to side, saying, "Not that I can remember, and me and him started this job together."

Hermione inwardly frowned, thinking about Charlie's ex-girlfriend, the one whom Charlie thought he would be spending the rest of his life with before they called it quits.

"Well," Hermione began, "I'm sure it was just a friendly gesture."

With her words, Terrance howled with laughter, causing the aged lady in front of them to turn her head around and level him with a menacing glare, as if he was the product of a one-eyed troll and a bumbling baboon.

"Hermione, I've seen friendly gestures before and his look wasn't it. Where is he, by the way?"

"He forgot to pick up a file back in the Romanian Unitary Magical Republic," she answered, shifting the heavy book from one arm to the other.

Apparently seeing this, Terrance lifted the tome out of her arms and held it against his side.

With her questioning look, he said, "I'll hold it. Is this for you? You know we have our own personal library back on the encampment, though I don't think we have any books like this."

"It's not for me," Hermione said simply, "it's for Phillip."

"Phillip, meaning Phillip Soren," Terrance questioned, his eyes growing wide.

Yes," Hermione responded.

"What're you getting him a book for," he asked back, stating the word 'him' in a bitter tone.

Ignoring his icy tinge, she answered, "Charlie told me everything about him…well not everything, but what happened to him and how he changed before and after the incident. I thought it would be a nice gift to get him for this birthday."

"You mean that there are actually people going to that thing?"

"I think so," Hermione stated, "I mean, he did say he was going to invite everyone."

"I'll be damned if he does," Terrance muttered, though Hermione heard him.

"I know some people, like you and Charlie, have hard feelings over what happened, but maybe it would be better if you tried to put the past behind you," Hermione offered.

Terrance looked down at her and said with a sad smile, "Sometimes that's easier said than done."

As the aged lady departed from the counter, leaning on a cane tightly grasped within one hand while she wore a bag around her wrist, carrying her two purchases, both Hermione and Terrance stepped up to the clerk.

After Terrance set the book down, he then helped her configure the necessary money exchange for her to purchase the book containing facts about dragons.

Catching a face full of sun upon exiting the store, Hermione said, "Thanks for helping me in there."

"I can't say that I would've helped anyone but any friend of Charlie's I consider to be a friend of mine," he replied. "Say, how was your night with Charlie?"

Hermione fixated him with a confused glance, asking, "What do you mean?"

Terrance looked as if he was trying with all of his might not to roll his eyes as he dived further, "I mean, how was it?"

Getting a small inkling of what he was referring to, Hermione scoffed, replying with, "After you left, all we did as wash up and head to bed; nothing more than that."

However, before Terrance could reply, Hermione heard her name being called out from behind them. The duo turned to see Charlie making his way over, a thick file clasped in his right hand.

"Terrance, what're you doing in Woan," Charlie asked when he caught up with them.

"A mail delivery to Raymond," he said in response.

As Charlie nodded his head in understanding, he inquired, "How is your brother, by the way."

"Here and there," Terrance answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"What does that mean," Hermione asked, looking up at Terrance with a puzzled expression.

"He's all over the continent and also travels to Asia as well," Terrance supplied.

"What does he do?"

"He works for my father. My dad operates his own quill factory over in Wales. My brother goes around and bargains with other wizarding communities to sell his quills."

"That sounds nice," Hermione said.

Terrance laughed once, it dry of any humor, responding, "It's nice and all, yeah, but it's as boring as watching a worm snuggle into a patch of dirt."

"Even then, I know Ray likes what he does and he's quite good at it," Charlie quipped.

"I'll give him a good conscience of that, you're right," Terrance agreed. "At least he's better than my younger brother, Alex."

"You have another brother," Hermione asked.

"I have two: my older brother Raymond, and my younger brother Alexander."

"What does he do?"

"Studies how the spring's moonbeams affect the sleeping patterns of Moon Frogs," Terrance told her. "Why on earth he would even consider researching something of that nature is beyond my sense of belief."

"Well, everyone is into different areas that interest them," Hermione answered. "I had a friend at Hogwarts who believed in rather odd subject matters like that."

"Perhaps we should introduce the two of them together so they can go off and form a pact with Mother Nature," Terrance said, this time giving way to roll his eyes. "Anyways, I'm going to head back to the reserve. Are you guys coming along?"

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Charlie answered.

Phillip nodded his head before he snapped his fingers, disappearing with a small POP.

After he had gone, Hermione turned to Charlie and concluded, "Terrance doesn't seem to like his brothers all that much."

Charlie gave her a small smirk, responding, "Terrance loves his brothers in his own way, if that makes any sense. Ray has always outshone Terrance in terms of O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, and work ethic, while Terrance believes that Alex is just wasting his time and his father's money by studying in things that he doesn't believe exists."

"Spending his father's money," Hermione queried.

"With Terrance's father's quill company, his family is well off. According to Terrance, Alex uses this to fund his research," Charlie explained. "From what I hear, his family never really has a nice, quiet dinner with each other."

Hermione laughed at that, thinking about all of the times that Luna Lovegood had voiced her own superstitions and the awkward silence that followed.

"I think I can relate to that somewhat," Hermione said with a smile.

Charlie grinned back before he noticed the bag in Hermione's hand.

"What's that," he asked, nodding his head towards it.

"A small gift I picked up for Phillip," she answered.

"Phillip…why?"

"Charlie, it's his birthday party tonight," Hermione addressed incredulously.

He paused for a long minute, looking at her like she was an intricate maze he was trying to work out, before he said, "You're actually going to it?"

"Yes, Charlie, I am. I think it might be nice and all to celebrate with him."

He sighed loudly, shooting his gaze downwards as he kicked away at some small pebbles.

"You don't have to go though," Hermione added on, "I know how you feel about him still after what happened."

"I'll think about it but I'm leaning towards not attending," Charlie said.

After Hermione nodded her head in understanding, Charlie held out his hand to her and proposed, "Come on, let's head back to the reserve."

Placing her hand in his, Charlie pulled her close to his size, giving her shoulders a light squeeze before they disappeared with a second small POP.


"Honestly, Charlie, it's not like we're going to sleep-over! I just think it's proper for us to wish him a 'happy birthday,'" Hermione huffed, as she and Charlie walked down the hallway side-by-side towards Phillip's room that night, with Hermione carrying her wrapped gift to him. "And besides, Phillip genuinely seems like a nice guy."

Charlie grumbled under his breath, as Hermione knew that he wasn't at all ecstatic about going to Phillip's birthday celebration. It's not that Hermione made him come along; in fact, she told him that if he wanted to stay behind, then he should've. However, Charlie was headstrong on accompanying Hermione. When she asked him why he needed to go with her, he just shrugged his shoulders, leaving her to yet again feel as if he wasn't telling her everything that was on his mind.

"It's this door right here," Charlie said after several more steps, as Hermione configured that his and Charlie's flats were about eleven doors apart.

They stopped walking as Hermione knocked upon the door. For a birthday jamboree, Hermione thought that the room beyond was awfully quiet.

'Perhaps Phillip erected a Silencing Charm,' Hermione inwardly thought to herself.

A few moments later, the door opened as Phillip's face appeared in the entryway. Once he saw who it was, he opened the door wider as he exclaimed, "Char! 'Mione! I knew ya'd come! Come in, come in!"

Charlie and Hermione, who both cringed at their given nicknames, walked inside Phillip's flat. The first thing Hermione noticed was that it was setup in the same manner as Charlie's, as she supposed the flats were all of the same style. She then saw that colorful streamers had been hung all over the walls, while at least a dozen multi-colored balloons bounced off of the living room and kitchen ceilings. Beyond that, however, the flat was bare, especially of any living soul.

"Phillip," Hermione started, as he shut the door behind them, "has no one come yet?"

"No, not yet, but don't worry, 'Mione: I invited the entire reserve camp tonight, so people should be showin' up in no time!"

Hermione slipped over a quick glance at Charlie who didn't seem at all surprised by how absent Phillip's birthday party was; Hermione, herself, didn't have a good feeling about it.

As the evening progressed, Hermione came to terms that no one else was coming. As the trio talked, mainly about Charlie and Hermione's blooming friendship, in which Phillip seemed to be really invested in, she couldn't help but notice that Phillip's eyes worked in a continuous rotation: clock, door, Charlie and Hermione; clock, door, Charlie and Hermione; clock, door, Charlie and Hermione.

When the hands of the timepiece struck ten o'clock, Hermione suggested, "Phillip, did you want to cut your cake?" She didn't really have anything to say about his guests that did not show up, though it didn't stop her heart from hurting over it.

"Yeah, come on ya two, let's go over and dig into some sweets," Phillip exclaimed, waving his wand to have Hermione and Charlie stand up from the couch they had been occupying for the past two hours and follow him over to the kitchen table.

"Sit down, sit down," he said, in a still cheerful manner.

As Hermione took her seat, she noticed that purple and red confetti had been scattered over the table's surface, however, the confetti seemed to be moving. Upon closer inspection, Hermione saw that the confetti was actually in the shape of dragons, as they clashed with one another.

She looked over at Charlie who said with a rough smile, "It's charmed…Tallyfine's Bakery gives a whole bag of these little guys for any celebration."

"I've never seen anything like these before," she said back.

"It's a nice touch for a little birthday," Charlie replied.

Just then, Phillip levitated a rather large, brown box out of his fridge and set it in the center of the kitchen table, squishing more than half of the moving confetti dragons under its weight.

"Oh, sorry little guys," Phillip said, but making no move to lift the box back up so that the squashed confetti could escape.

The top of the box lifted open so that the trio spotted a beautifully decorated rectangular cake lying inside of it. The cake, however, was again unlike Hermione had ever seen before: on its white and blue surface, six small figures, made up completely of cake icing though not having any defined facial features, were drifting over its surface, acting as if the top layer was an ice skating rink, leaving behind tracks in their wake. On the four sides of the cake, there were small dragons, also made of icing, scaling the cake's walls, trying to make it to the top, as if they wanted their own turn at skating themselves.

Phillip starting cutting the confection until Hermione exclaimed, "Wait!"

With a knife in one hand, Phillip completely froze in place, his eyes trained on Hermione.

"We have to sing 'Happy Birthday,'" she continued, as she could nearly feel waves of dread roll off of Charlie, as she thought she heard a groan as well.

Waving her wand, a single candle appeared before it plopped itself down in the center of the cake. The skating figures made of icing, not knowing a sudden obstruction had been placed in their way, ran into the candle, giving a small, "Ompf." With another flick of her wand, a single flame appeared atop of the candle.

Hermione started singing, albeit a bit off-key, while she nudged Charlie in the side to do the same. Phillip's eyes started to water over as Hermione and Charlie finished their rendition of 'Happy Birthday' as she hoped that Phillip was pleased rather than scarred by their singing voices.

In answer, Phillip clapped his hands together and cried out, "That was beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"

"Phillip, blow out your candle," Hermione instructed.

He did as he was told as Hermione clapped her hands together, while Charlie softly tapped his hands twice before stopping.

Phillip then proceeded to cut the cake, minding not to slice into any of the figures or dragons made up of icing, and handed a large piece to Hermione and an equally sized piece to Charlie, before taking one for himself.

As Hermione looked down at her plate, she noticed that a dragon of icing was on her plate.

"This may sound like a silly question, but are we able to eat the dragon," Hermione asked, feeling the color race across her cheeks as she replayed her ridiculously-phrased query again in her head.

"I don't exactly know," Phillip replied, spotting two dragons on his plate, before shooting a look over at Charlie, who had one dragon, shrugged his shoulders in return.

However, before any of them could try it, each of the dragons made of icing exploded, glazing Hermione, Charlie, and Phillip's face in frosting.

After a shocked moment, Phillip started laughing, followed through by Hermione, while even Charlie cracked a small smile.

"Well, certainly didn't expect that, did we," Phillip said, waving his wand and having napkins fly atop of the table.

After Hermione wiped the icing off of her face and took a bite of her cake, she nearly hummed in appreciation, saying "This cake is really good."

Phillip looked over at her and responded with a large smile, "Before you guys leave, take all the cake that you want…I'm going to have plenty leftover."

With his last statement, Hermione prompted carefully, "Phillip, you said that you invited all of the reserve workers?"

At her question, she saw that Phillip's smile wavered a bit before he answered, "Yeah, I did but I just suspect that they're a bit busy with whatever they're doing tonight."

Hermione noticed that there was a lace of both sorrow and rejection in his words, making her heart pang with hurt. She looked over at Charlie who, himself, looked quite mellow.

"But at least you two came," Phillip continued in a more jolly voice, looking up from his half-eaten slice of cake. "Even though I haven't known you all that long 'Mione, I consider both you and Char to be great friends of mine!"

"Oh, well thank you, Phillip, that means a lot," Hermione returned. "I actually got you a gift."

"A gift," Phillip repeated, his eyes igniting with interest.

Hermione stood up and walked over to the couch she and Charlie had occupied before, grabbing her wrapped gift she had set down beside it when she had entered into the flat, and handed it to Phillip after she had made her way back to the table.

"It's from both me and Charlie," Hermione announced, spotting Charlie's head look over at her out of the corner of her eye.

Phillip smiled before he tore off the wrapping paper, where it fell to the ground. As he stared at the cover of the book, his smile slowly slipped off of his face, as Hermione registered that something was triggered deep inside of him, but of what, she didn't know.

As he continued to gaze at the cover, as if hypnotized by it, Charlie, noticing this rather abrupt peculiar behavior, cleared his throat and said, "Phillip, are you okay?"

Phillip slowly looked up from the book cover, his eyes in a bit of a daze.

"Phillip," Charlie repeated, as Hermione looked on in concern.

"It isn't real."

"What," Hermione and Charlie said in unison. They looked over at each other, wondering what Phillip was talking about.

"Phillip, come out of it," Charlie said, leaning forward and clapping his hands together with force, right in front of Phillip's face.

With this action, Phillip jerked backwards, falling off of his chair, his heavy tome tumbling onto the floor with a loud THUMP.

"What'd ya do that for, Char?"

"You were a bit out of it," he said back after a slight pause.

"Out of it," Phillip repeated, looking rather confused, as he stood to his feet.

"Are you okay," Hermione asked him.

"I've never felt better, well besides falling on the floor that is!"

"Well, I think Hermione and I should get going…it's getting late," Charlie stated, rising to his feet.

Phillip looked over at the pair and said, "Before ya go, please take some cake with ya! I've got plenty of leftovers!"

"It's your cake Phillip, you enjoy it," Charlie replied back.

Hermione then stood to her feet and said, "Happy Birthday, Phillip."

"Thanks for coming, 'Mione! And you too, Char!"

Charlie nodded his head at him before he grabbed Hermione's hand and led her to the door. Before they departed, however, Phillip's voice stopped them: "I'll see you tomorrow night at the graveyard shift!"

Charlie looked back and said with a genuine smile, "See you then, Phillip."

As Charlie pulled open the door, Hermione took a quick look back and saw that Phillip had picked up the book she had gotten for him from the floor, as he was once again mesmerized by its cover.