DISCLAIMER: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't need to have a Saturday job . . .
My apologies for the delay – I've had more homework in the past four weeks than I had during the entire of last school year, no joke. The teachers are conspiring against me!
" . . . absolutely nothing at all," she finished, causing Ginny to look across at her in obvious disbelief.
"Yeah, right," her friend said.
"No, let me finish," Hermione added. "Absolutely nothing is going on, but that doesn't mean that . . ." She trailed off, blushing.
"Doesn't mean that what?" prompted Ginny, a shrewd look in her eye.
"That doesn't mean that . . . I don't want there to be," she said, practically whispering the last part.
"That you what?" Ginny asked, playing deaf and cupping a hand to her ear.
"There isn't anything going on with me and Charlie but I want there to be!" Hermione practically glared, shooting a look at her friend that should have had her six feet under. Ginny just giggled.
"Alright, alright, I hear ya!" she said, still grinning. "No need to shout, hun."
"You are being particularly infuriating today, you know that?" Hermione asked.
"Thank you, I do try," said Ginny, pulling cooking equipment and ingredients out of cupboards. "Pass me the mixing bowl, would you – it's just down there by you. Thanks. So, tell me about Charlie, then."
"Tell me about why you dragged me out of bed to make a cake, then I'll tell you about Charlie," Hermione responded.
"Fine," said Ginny, rolling her eyes. "You know it's Mum's fiftieth on Tuesday? And Dad was organising a surprise celebration thing?"
Hermione nodded. "I assume that's cancelled now, what with everything that happened with Percy, and all?" she asked.
"No, actually – it's still on," Ginny replied. Hermione looked surprised. "The Healers have said that, as long as nothing comes up, and he remains OK, Percy can be discharged on Tuesday. So Mum said, "Oh, that's great, Dad and I can come and get you when he finishes work, and you can come back home and have dinner with us, to celebrate my birthday,". Only Dad had the idea that we – well, he and Percy – kidnap her and take her out to a swanky restaurant, where we – me, you, Harry, my brothers and their better halves – will be waiting to surprise her."
"Oh, that's a nice idea," said Hermione.
"Yes, it is quite sweet, isn't it?" agreed Ginny. "Cute of Dad to think it up. Anyway, we'll all have dinner there, but I'm going to make a cake because I think it's nice to have a homemade cake on your birthday, and me and you can sneak off and get it after the main course."
"Sounds like a plan," said Hermione, catching the cake tin before it fell out of Ginny's grasp. "But I don't get why I have to be here – you know I can't cook."
"Well, partly because I don't know the spell to make the oven bigger," admitted Ginny. "I'm going to magically stretch the tin, to make the cake bigger, but it'll end up to big to fit in the oven, and I can't stretch that myself."
"Oh, that's easy," said Hermione. "Here you go." She waved her wand at the cooker, and it glowed bright green for a moment, before appearing totally to be normal. However, when she opened the door, it was clear that the oven was a lot bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. "Hah – it's a TARDIS oven," giggled Hermione. Ginny looked confused. "Never mind," said Hermione.
"Cheers for that," said Ginny, cracking an egg into a jug. "But don't go yet – the main reason I asked you round was because I wanted to hear all about you and Charlie – I didn't miss the looks he was giving you at the hospital yesterday – and don't you dare get that 'whatever-do-you-mean?' innocent look on your face: I want details and I want them now!"
Hermione laughed. "Alright, alright, I'll give you details," she chuckled, before sobering up immediately. "There are none. I've finally admitted to myself that I like him, but he doesn't see me as anything else than his little sister's best friend and little brother's ex-boyfriend."
"Oh, please," snorted Ginny. "After the way he was looking at you last night? I don't think so, missy."
"Last night doesn't count, because everyone was really stressed and needed lots of reassurance. We all thought Percy was going to die, or something, naturally we were all very upset and looked for comfort wherever we could. I happened to be sitting next to Charlie, so I was his source of comfort. I could just as easily have been you, or Bill or your Mum, or anyone. It was simply a case of being in the right place at the right time."
"Well, I'm not convinced, but we'll let it slide for now," said Ginny, holding up her hands to stop Hermione's tirade. "Let's say that last night was your explanation – seeking comfort in the nearest source of whatever. But what about just now, when I came to fetch you? The flirtiness between you two?"
"Flirtiness!" Hermione flushed pink. "That wasn't flirtiness! That was just normal! It was just friendliness," she stressed the last word.
Ginny's eyebrows rose so far up her forehead they were practically sticking to the ceiling. "That was normal?" she asked. "That's how I talk to Harry!"
"And your point is?" Hermione asked.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "My point is, me and Harry talk like that because we're dating. We're engaged. It's what couples do. You and Charlie are acting like a couple, 'Mione," she replied. "Honestly, you can be pretty stupid sometimes!" she teased.
"I'm . . . we're not . . . Charlie and I are not a couple!" Hermione spluttered.
"Yet," said Ginny. "I give you another month. If you're not dating by then I'll . . . buy you a big box of Honeydukes finest!"
"Good, I look forward to eating them," returned Hermione.
"Well, you'd better make sure you've got enough spare cash to buy your own box – I reckon my money's pretty safe," Ginny replied. "And anyway, I thought you said you fancied him?" she queried.
"I do, I just don't want to date him," Hermione said.
"Well, that's cleared that up!" said Ginny, rolling her eyes again.
"What I mean is, I guess I do fancy him . . . but I don't want to ask him out," Hermione attempted to explain.
"Why not?" asked Ginny, curious.
"Well . . . even if you completely ignore the whole Ron issue and the weirdness of dating your ex's brother . . . I don't think he sees me as more than someone to flirt with occasionally. He wouldn't want to get serious with me . . . and it'd be so embarrassing if I asked him out and he said no," her friend replied, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
"You're scared of rejection?" asked Ginny.
"I guess so," said Hermione.
"Sucks, doesn't it?" she asked. Hermione nodded despondently. "It's just something you have to get over . . . but of course, that's so much easier said than done."
Hermione sighed. "I just wish I knew what he was thinking half the time. Like, we'll be talking, and I'll say something and think, 'oh God, was that too flirty?' or 'have I taken that the wrong way?' . . . and I wish I could read his mind, to see what he thought."
"You could always learn Occulemency," suggested Ginny, with a wry smile.
"Meh, too much like hard work," Hermione said, dismissing her suggestion with a wave of the hand. "Arg! Men are such hard work!"
"Yeah, but they're worth it when you get to—" Ginny whispered something that made Hermione shriek in disgust and throw a teaspoon at her friend's head.
"Ew! Gin! Way too much information!" she protested. Ginny laughed, dodging the spoon easily.
"Well, I'm sorry, but just because you're not getting any and I am, doesn't mean that—" Ginny began, but Hermione cut her off.
"Stop right there or I shall be sick!" she commanded, holding up her hands.
"'Oo is going to be sick?" asked a voice, and Fleur stepped out of the fireplace.
"Me," said Hermione, "if she-" she pointed a finger in Ginny's direction, "-doesn't stop talking about her and Harry's sex life!"
Fleur laughed, Ginny grinned and Hermione looked faintly revolted. "Never mind about that; 'Mione, I invited Fleur around to help ice the cake, which is ready to go in the oven right about now, so that should only be another forty-five minutes or so, and you're welcome to stay and help if you want," Ginny said, levitating the enormous cake tin, full of mixture into the oven.
Hermione readily agreed to stay, and the three women soon started talking about Fleur's baby and pregnancy – a much safer subject, Hermione thought, than hearing about her two best friends' . . . urgh. Just urgh.
Hermione glanced up at the clock in the library, and was horrified to discover that it was already reading half past five. She was supposed to be there now. Hurriedly, she packed up her stuff into her satchel and raced to the women's toilets, where she changed her pale blue blouse for a deep purple satin top, added a necklace and some eye make-up, reapplied her lip gloss and redid her hair. She glanced at herself in the mirror.
She was . . . passable. She wasn't going to set the world on fire, but she'd do. In truth, she realised with a sinking heart, she probably wouldn't have made such an effort if she hadn't known that Charlie would be there. Honestly, when had she turned into such a shallow, vapid airhead? As if Charlie cared that much about how she looked . . . and anyway, he saw her every morning in her old pyjamas, with her hair unbrushed and the remnants of the previous day's mascara still clinging to her face. When he saw her like that everyday, what was the point in trying to look glamorous? She hesitated for a moment, contemplating washing off her make-up (it was probably too heavy – it was only a family dinner thing, anyway), but then she glanced again at her watch, saw it was nearly twenty to six, decided against it, and turning on the spot, she apparated to the restaurant.
"You're late," said a voice in her ear.
"Only by ten minutes," she started to protest, but when she turned around she saw Charlie wink at her. She poked her tongue out at him in response. "Honestly, I had to glamorise myself, didn't I? I couldn't exactly come dressed as I was before."
"Why?" Ron asked, coming over to join the pair of them. "What was wrong with what you were wearing at lunchtime?"
"Well, it wasn't very suitable for a party, was it?" she asked, but both men merely looked at her with blank faces. "Honestly," she rolled her eyes. "Can either of you two actually remember what I was wearing earlier?" Both of them shook their heads, and then laughed at the exasperated look on her face.
Ginny came into the small room that they had rented at that point, and cleared her throat. Everyone – Hermione and Charlie, Ron and Harry, George and Katie and Bill and Fleur – turned to look at her. "OK guys, here's the plan," she said, once she had everyone's attention. "Dad's just sent word that they're finalising the details with Percy, and that they should all be along in the next five minutes or so. The restaurant owners have given us permission to wait up here with the lights off, then the serving staff will come up once we're all ready to order. If everyone puts their gifts on that pile there—" Hermione hurriedly put her present to Molly (a box of chocolates and Celestina Warbeck's autobiography) on the pile "and when they get here, we all shout 'Surprise!'. Then Charlie, Hermione, Ron – it's your job to raise the lights up, after George, Katie and Bill have set of the indoor fireworks, and—"
"Relax, Gin," George cut in. "We've been through this a hundred times already. We all know what we're doing, OK? Let's just turn the lights down and wait for them to come – we haven't got much time."
Ginny looked slightly crestfallen. "If everyone's sure they know what they're doing, I suppose that—" she began doubtfully, but everyone reassured her that yes, they most definitely did know what they were doing and no they did not need to run through it again. She went over to stand near Harry, who put his arm around her, then the lights were turned off and the room was plunged into darkness.
Hermione heard someone – she was sure it was either Ginny or Katie – giggle, and she heard Bill murmur something to Fleur. Ron said something evidently amusing to Harry, who gave a very quiet snort of laughter, and someone 'shushed' loudly. "Well," whispered a voice in her ear, and she jumped, forgetting that she was still standing near Charlie. "This is exciting."
She giggled softly; glad he couldn't see her blush when his hand accidentally ran across her side. "Oh, most defiantly," she agreed. Her tone was as sarcastic as his had been, but she was rather disgusted with herself when she realised that actually, she was quite excited to be standing so close to Charlie in the dark.
Someone – she thought George – brushed past her and she took a step backwards, nearly tumbling over as she did so. "Steady," Charlie said, catching her around the waist and pulling her back gently so that she was leaning against him. She was really glad it was dark.
"Thanks," she murmured, noticing that his hands hadn't left her waist yet, even though the danger of her falling had long past – though she wasn't complaining in the slightest.
"You're welcome," he replied easily. "So, how was your day?"
Much better now that you're here, thanks. No, she definitely couldn't say that. "Oh, you know," she said, waving a hand before remembering that he couldn't see her. "Almost as exciting as standing in this dark room is." She felt, rather than heard, him chuckle. "How about yours?"
"Oh, the usual," he replied. "Wrestled a few dragons-" He was cut off by the arrival of Arthur's patronus.
"Coming now," it simply said, and it had barely dissolved when Percy, Arthur, Molly and Penelope apparated into the room with a pop.
"What? What's going on?" Molly Weasley asked, sounding surprised and confused. Her questions were drowned out, though, by a rousing chorus of 'happy birthday', some loud bangs from the fireworks erupting out of Bill and George's wands, and she blushed slightly and smiled.
"Really, you needn't have—"
"Really, we did have to," Percy cut her off, giving his mother a brief hug before going to stand next to Penelope, slipping his arms around her waist. Arthur came to take his place, kissing his wife on the forehead.
"Happy birthday, love," he said softly, kissing her on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss, and there was a slightly awkward moment where everyone looked determinedly at the ceiling or the floor, then George wolf-whistled, and they broke apart, looking for a moment like guilty teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't.
Everyone laughed, then Ginny suggested that they all sat down at the table, whilst Molly opened her gifts. The table was rectangular, so Molly naturally sat at the top end, with Arthur on her right side and Percy on her left (at her insistence, so she could "keep an eye on him". He sent pleading glances in his siblings' direction, but they all seemed to be finding their shoes very interesting. No one was prepared to get in the way of their mother's mollycoddling).
The Weasleys all headed for the table, and Hermione found herself being sandwiched between Charlie and George. Katie Bell, George's girlfriend, was on his other side, and Bill and Fleur were next to Charlie. They all chatted amicably; Hermione and Katie wanted to know everything about the baby, even though Fleur was only a couple of months pregnant, and George and Charlie tried not to look too bored as the women discussed names, gender, childbirth and everything else that could possibly be associated with children.
Fortunately for them, the serving staff arrived and took their orders, and the topic of conversation changed to work, with Charlie entertaining them all with a story about an escaped dragon. "But how could it be nearly three days before anyone noticed that Bella was missing?" Hermione asked him, once she had heard the full story.
"Well, it's hard to spot a dragon sometimes," Charlie said, spearing a carrot.
"Oh yes, I should imagine that something the size of a small house, with bright red scales and a tendency to breathe fire is very hard to spot," she replied sarcastically, and the others laughed.
"No, they are," protested Charlie. "Especially when they're hidden by all the trees!"
"Oh yeah, all the trees in the wilds of Wales!" Hermione teased. "It's a virtual Amazon over there, don't'cha know," she finished, looking at him over her glass of wine.
"It is hard to spot a dragon, sometimes," Charlie insisted. "But I just can't be bothered to explain to you exactly why it is – there are just too many reasons, and I haven't the time to go through them all here."
"He means he hasn't got the mental capacity to do so," Hermione stage-whispered to the others.
"Oh, shut up and have some more to drink," grumbled Charlie, good-naturedly, pouring her some more wine from the bottle open on the table in front of them. The others laughed at their teasing of each other.
"So," began Katie, looking slightly confusedly at Hermione and Charlie over her vegetable lasagne, "how long have you two been going out?" Bill and George immediately burst into hysterics, and Fleur wasn't doing much of a job of hiding her giggles, either. Charlie and Hermione, meanwhile, were various shades of red and purple; Charlie spluttering incoherently and Hermione chocking on her mouthful of chicken. "What?" Katie asked, now even more puzzled. "What did I say?"
"Well, you see, the thing is," began George, managing to stop his laughter briefly, "although they do act like a complete old married couple, Hermione and Charlie aren't actually dating. She only broke up with Ron a couple of weeks ago!" He started to laugh again, as Charlie and Hermione – the latter being patted on the back by Fleur to stop her chocking – glared at him. He raised his eyebrows in a 'Yeah? What?' expression.
"Oh," said Katie, and then again, but with more understanding. "Oh. Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—" She turned nearly as red as the blushing pair seated opposite her.
"It's alright," said Charlie, smiling slightly forcibly at her. "I'm . . . yeah – don't worry about it," he smiled again, this time less forced.
"S'all OK," Hermione managed to cough out, gratefully accepting the glass of water Fleur handed to her. She coughed a few more times, but after a few swallows, she was fine. A rather embarrassing silence descended over their end of the table, with everyone looking determinedly at their plates.
"So," said Bill, jumping in after a moment or two to save his brother and friend from even more embarrassment. "Who's putting their money on England in the World Cup Qualifiers next month?"
"Not me," scoffed George. "We still can't hold our heads up after the debacle at the World Cup last time – we're getting nowhere."
"Nah, I reckon we'll make the Qualifiers," said Charlie. "Won't get much further after that, though," he added gloomily.
"Well, you say that, but we've got a much better pool of players to choose from now – much, much better than we had last time," Katie put in.
"Really?" George asked sceptically, raising his eyebrows. "Like who?"
"No, she's got a point," said Bill. "I mean, there's Harper – he's always been good, and . . ."
The boys and Katie continued their conversation, and Hermione, after exchanging rather exasperated looks with Fleur, zoned out, thinking back to her utter mortification a few moments before. Honestly, had she been that obvious? She had always prided herself on being exceptionally subtle around men – careful not to overstep any boundaries, and especially not the one between friends and lovers.
Yes, she fancied Charlie (well, it was more like she just had a crush on him, really), but there was no way he would feel the same way about her (although Ginny seemed to think he might . . . but really what did Ginny know about romance? She had once sent the boy she had a crush on a singing dwarf on Valentine's Day! But then again, Ginny was now engaged to be married to that boy. Maybe she should listen to her more often. . .).
This love business was just too hard. She wanted just to give up on the whole institution and go and live with twenty cats and a broomstick in a cottage somewhere. It would make life a whole lot easier, that would be for sure.
She was interrupted from her musings by Ginny, who appeared behind her, clearing her throat meaningfully. Hermione remembered that she was supposed to be going back to Ginny's flat to collect the cake they had made and iced the other day. She and Fleur excused themselves, and got up from the table together, walking into a small annex off the main restaurant.
"You stay here," Ginny said in a low voice to Fleur. "You can't apparate while pregnant – we don't want the baby to get hurt. Hermione and I will go back to my flat, and pick up the cake, then we'll bring it back here, light it and levitate it in. I've already given the boys their cue to start singing when they see us bringing it in."
"Little Miss Organised," said Hermione, getting out her wand.
"For once," said Ginny. "See you in a moment, Fleur." The pair of them turned on the spot and apparated back to Ginny's flat. Hermione paused to smooth her hair down in the mirror in the hallway and check her lip-gloss, as Ginny retrieved the cake from its cupboard.
"Need a hand?" she asked, and Ginny nodded gratefully.
"Thanks," she said, as Hermione helped her with the enormous cake. "So," she continued, taking a knife out of the drawer and balancing it on the plate with the cake. "Having fun with Charlie?"
"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, as Ginny giggled. "Katie's already asked me if we're dating, I don't need anymore embarrassment."
"What?" asked Ginny. Hermione told her how Katie had thought that she and Charlie were a couple, whilst Ginny roared with laughter. "Well, it's only a matter of time," she teased in a singsong voice.
"Oh, shut up," repeated Hermione.
"Sorry," said Ginny, not sounding remotely apologetic. "Come on," she added, lifting the cake up. "Let's get back to the party." Hermione took the other end of the plate, and, on a count of three, they turned and apparated back to the restaurant. When they got there, Fleur lit the candles magically, and they levitated the cake into the restaurant, as everybody began to sing 'happy birthday'.
Molly turned in her seat, her face breaking out into a smile as she saw the three young women heading towards her. Ginny set the cake down on the table in front of her, just as the song ended, and she blew out the candles as everyone cheered. The cake was cut and handed out, and everyone dug in, complimenting Ginny on its lovely taste. "Oh, it wasn't just me – Fleur and Hermione helped," she said. Molly thanked them for their efforts, too, then a slow song started playing, and Arthur led his wife out onto the dance floor. They were soon joined by Bill and Fleur, Harry and Ginny and George and Katie.
After the song ended, a more upbeat tune began to play, and Ginny dragged Hermione out on to the dance floor. "Ask Charlie to dance," she suggested to Hermione, twirling around.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I don't think so," she replied.
"Why not?" asked Ginny. Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Harry cut in again, taking Ginny away from her. Hermione was not partnerless for long though, as George soon came over and joined her.
She danced with Ron next, then Percy, Arthur, Bill, Ginny again, Harry, Fleur and Katie, Ron again, and George – but not with the person she most wanted to. She was slightly disappointed – everyone was dancing with everyone, so she could have danced with Charlie and no one would have thought anything of it. The music, floating in from an undeterminable source, was a mixture of muggle and magical bands, so Hermione knew almost all of the songs. She was singing along to an old Beatles track with Ginny, enjoying herself immensely, and not caring about her singing voice – or lack of – unaware of her audience.
Charlie was stood by the bar, glass in hand, watching her twirl and laugh with his sister. "So . . ." began Bill slyly, sidling up to his brother. "Hermione's looking good tonight, don't'cha think?"
"What? Oh, oh yeah, she is," he replied, not taking his eyes off the girl.
"You might want to close your mouth though. And mop up your drool," Bill continued, talking to the ceiling.
"Yeah . . ." murmured Charlie, clearly not listening to him at all.
"Did you know that George has invented a new sport?" Bill asked, looking shrewdly at his brother.
"That's nice," Charlie said vaguely.
"Yeah – one legged skiing on a broomstick whilst balancing a cat on your head. Mum's the new world champion," he said.
"Uh-huh," said Charlie.
"Well, Fleur and I are off home now – did I tell you that we've brought a house on the moon? More space to raise the baby . . . although I am slightly worried about all the aliens – do you think they'd be a bad influence on it?" Bill asked.
"Yeah," Charlie said. Bill rolled his eyes, pulled out is wand and poked his brother on the arm, giving him a small electric shock.
"Ah! What the hell?" Charlie asked, slopping his drink down his front, but sounding much more alert than he had a moment ago.
"You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying, have you?" asked Bill, grinning.
"I have," Charlie protested, but caught his brother's look, before adding, "not. Sorry," he finished, sheepishly.
"S'OK," said Bill. "I was just saying how nice Hermione was looking tonight, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, yeah!" exclaimed Charlie. "I mean, yeah, she's lookin' good," he added, much more casually.
Bill just grinned knowingly. "Just ask her to dance, Char," he said, shaking his head.
"Oh, I will," replied his brother, a gleam in his eye.
"You might want to clear up your front first, though," suggested Bill, chuckling.
"Thanks," Charlie said, slightly sarcastically, but waving his wand at his front all the same. Before either of them could say anything else, Hermione herself came over to their corner, flushed and grinning.
"Whew!" she said, fanning herself with a menu. "I'm so hot!" Bill caught Charlie's eye, and gave a stifled laugh, but she didn't appear to notice.
"Having a nice time?" Charlie asked politely.
"Yeah, it's great," she enthused. "Ginny and Penny were just teaching me the Hippogriff – it's kind of like the Macarena, you know?" Bill and Charlie looked blankly at her. "Never mind, it's just a muggle dance thing. Anyway, I thought I'd come over here before Ginny makes me dance again – my feet are killing me." She sat down on a bar stool with a sigh of relief.
"Ah, my wife appears to have no one to dance with," Bill said, looking over at Fleur – who was not dancing, it was true, but who was deeply immersed in a conversation with Mrs. Weasley. "I must go and rectify that problem straight away!" He shot off, leaving Charlie to shake his head at his brother's none-to-subtle hints.
"About as subtle as a sledge hammer," he muttered.
"What was that, sorry?" asked Hermione, looking up from the foot she had been rubbing.
"Nothing," said Charlie, quickly. "So . . . uh . . . did I tell you that you're looking very nice this evening?" he asked.
Her face broke out into a warm smile. "Thank you, Charlie. That's very kind of you to say," she replied.
"It's only the truth," he said, moving his face closer to hers. She flushed pink, still smiling. "Have your feet recovered yet?" he added.
"Mmm, I reckon so," she said. "It depends what you had in mind." She quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Well," he said, grinning. "How about a dance?"
"I reckon I could manage that," she said sweetly, and he offered out his arm. She took it, and, giggling, let him lead her out on to the dance floor. As they got there, the song changed, and a much slower tune came on. Hermione put her arms around his neck, and he slipped his around her waist. They started swaying together slowly, and Hermione smiled to herself, feeling like a fourteen year old with a crush again. Ginny caught her eye, standing a few feet away with Harry and gave her the thumbs up, and she resisted the urge to giggle.
"What are you thinking?" asked Charlie, looking at her curiously.
About how hot you are. "About . . . uh . . . just stuff," she replied, with a small smile. He was about to ask more, but he caught his mother looking at the pair of them very shrewdly. He dropped his hands from Hermione quicker than if he'd been electrocuted. She gave him a strange look.
"I . . . uh . . . excuse me." He rushed off, leaving her stranded in the middle of the dance floor. She blinked, her cheeks flooding with colour. She hoped that no one else had noticed, but she had no such look – she saw George, looking curiously at the direction Charlie had just vanished into; Percy looking very surprised; Fleur staring at her with sympathetic outrage (though she at least had the grace to go back to talking to Bill, pretending that she hadn't actually been watching the pair of them); Molly shooting daggers at her son, and then changing her look to one of sympathy when she glanced at Hermione.
She wasn't alone for long though – Ginny shot over to her side, and slipped her arm around her friend's waist. "What was that about?" she asked.
"I . . . I don't know," murmured Hermione, surprised at how hurt she felt – and sounded.
"Bastard," said Ginny, glaring at her brother, who had just appeared in the doorway, looking very ashamed. Hermione caught his eye, and looked away quickly, blinking back tears. "Are you OK?" Ginny asked, her voice soft.
Hermione took a deep breath, and paused for a moment. "I'm fine," she replied, waiting until it was true before she said the words. She was distracted by Molly and Arthur announcing that they were off home, and got separated from Ginny. Percy and Penelope approached her, letting her know that they, too, were off, and they were quickly followed by Bill and Fleur, who wished her goodnight.
"Come this way," Bill said to his wife, gently steering her in the direction of his younger brother. "What the hell—" he began as soon as Charlie was close enough to hear him, but he was cut off.
"Don't," Charlie snarled. "I know already."
"Just . . . fix it – soon," Bill advised. "Women hold grudges."
Fleur smacked him playfully on the arm. "Oi!" she said, sticking her tongue out at him
He winked at her. "We're off now," he said. "See you."
"Bye," muttered Charlie, despondently as they left.
George and Katie left, too, and Charlie watched as Hermione made her way over to Ginny. The two girls hugged, and it looked as though Hermione was offering to stay for a bit longer, but Ginny sent her on her way. She picked up her bag and apparated without a glance at him, and he sighed.
Ginny hurried over to her fiancé's side. "Go with Ron – back to mine if you want," she said to him quickly. "I need you two to get out of here."
"Why, do we smell, or something?" teased Harry, smiling at her.
Ginny smiled back, but it was distracted. "No – I need to talk to Charlie, that's all. You go – I won't be long." She pecked him on the lips, and he grinned at her.
"You'd better not be – I'll be waiting." He winked at her, before going over to Ron, slinging an arm around him, and walking out of the door.
Charlie made a half-hearted attempt at straightening out the dishes and plates left on the table. "Leave that," said Ginny. "The owners will sort it out. I need to talk to you."
"You do?" asked Charlie.
"I do," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "You know, you're my brother, Charlie, and I love you to bits – but I'm telling you this now: if you break her heart, I will break every bone in your body. And that's a promise. Do you understand me?"
"I . . . yeah, I understand," he replied, knowing immediately what his sister was talking about.
"Good," she replied, severely. "You really hurt her just then. And Charlie . . . she's had enough crap dealt to her in this life, without you adding to it."
"I know. I'm a total jerk, right?" he moaned.
"Well . . . quite frankly, yes, you are," Ginny answered. "What the hell possessed you to do that?"
"I don't really . . . it's hard to explain," he trailed off. "I just . . . well, Mum was looking, and I . . ."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're going to have to explain much better than that to her, you know," she said.
"I know," he said. "She hates me."
"Oh, no, I don't think so," Ginny said, more airily. "Put it this way: she doesn't hate you in the same way that you don't hate her, if you catch my drift." She raised her eyebrows, and a faint flicker of hope passed across Charlie's face. "Just . . . don't screw it up anymore than you have already, OK?" He winced slightly. "Oh, and we were absolutely and emphatically not just having this conversation. She will kill me if she found out that I told you about how much she . . . uh . . . doesn't hate you."
"What conversation?" he asked, with a grin, and Ginny nodded approvingly.
"Good, good," she said. "But my warning still stands: you're my brother, but she's my best friend. Break her heart, and I will rip out your testicles."
Charlie looked suitably horrified. "You need any help here?" he asked, indicating the restaurant.
"No, it's alright. You go on home," she insisted.
"What about the bill?" he asked.
"Dad, Percy, Penny, Harry and I are paying," she said. "It's our present to Mum."
"Are you sure you don't need me to—" he began, but she cut him off.
"No, no, it's truly fine. We've got it covered," she replied, fanning herself with a chequebook and rolling her eyes. "Stop stalling, and get back to Hermione."
"I will," he replied. "See you around, sis."
"Probably much more than you'd want to," she called to him, as he picked up his cloak.
"Huh?" he asked.
"I'm heading off to Ireland, on Wednesday, and staying there 'til Sunday. Then that's the end of the International Tour – I'm back in Britain for the rest of the season."
"Oh, that's good news," he said.
"Yes, it is, isn't it? Now, go!" she laughed, pointing in the direction of the door.
"I'm going, I'm going!" he said jokily. "Time to face the music . . . not that I don't deserve it . . ."
I would dearly love to say "don't worry, Chapter 11 won't be long!" However, I don't want to lie to you, and I know that with my insane workload at the moment, a quick update is just not going to happen. However, have patience, and I'll update when I can – I promise you that I'm NOT abandoning this story (it's just sort of on a permanent hiatus :S )
10 points to anyone who spotted the Doctor Who reference . . . :D