Hermione sighed, resting her pounding head against the cool lacquered wood of her desk. Life as a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not going how Hermione had imagined it would. Classes were monotonous, constant grading was dulling her brain, and she had gained a stone in the two months she'd been here! Ginny had kept her word about delivering muffins each week, damn her, and that plus the delicious food the elves served and Madame Rosmerta's fare over at the Three Broomsticks was keeping her arse well-padded. She didn't do half as much walking and climbing of stairs as she had thought she would, which meant she needed to take time out of her already jam-packed schedule to make time to exercise, which meant it often went undone, like nearly everything else of a personal nature. Well, almost everything… She was making quite the concerted effort to leave time - or make it, on occasion - for a certain tall, dark, and handsome man. Black, almost.

The arrival of an owl brought her out of her momentary funk. The owl dove by and deposited a letter where he head had just been without ceasing its flight, soaring away out the window before she had even read who the missive was from. Ah, another letter from Miranda. She set it to the side before trying to refocus on her grading, using the letter as an incentive to finish in a timely manner. She needed something promising at the other end of first-year essays.

She still needed to thank Sirius properly for introducing her to the prestigious witch. Hell, she still had trouble wrapping her mind around the idea that Ms. Miranda Goshawk was just an owl or a Floo call away. It was unnerving, almost. They had already discussed one of the most recent, and most dramatic overhauls to general Charms theory and how it affected the caster's ability to control the flow of their magic through the spell. Hermione had been utterly giddy the night she spent at Miranda's knee, listening to her wax poetic about Charms in such a way that made her own teaching methods look watered-down and paltry in comparison.

After a further five minutes of staring at the same line, she threw her hands up and gave it up as pointless. She grabbed her thick winter robes off the back of her chair and threw them on before summoning her scarf, deciding that a walk down to the village and a nice bowl of Rosmerta's beef and carrot stew was exactly what the healer ordered.

As she was making her way through the lightly blowing snow towards Hogsmeade, she heard crunching footfalls coming from behind her, pulling her from her wandering train of thought. She perked her head up and looked 'round to see who was behind her, grinning when she noticed the flaming, curly red hair.

"Charlie! What brings you this way on such a cold and blustery evening?" she asked, pulling to a stop to wait for him to catch up with her so they could walk together.

Charlie had been brought on in October to take over the position of Care of Magical Creatures while Hagrid was off on his honeymoon. He had finally plucked up the courage to ask Olympe for her hand just that past summer. The wedding had been a small affair - if you could say that, Hagrid and Olympe being who they are - on the grounds near the edge of the forest. It had been rushed, as Maxime had been forced to carefully work within her schedule as Headmistress of Beauxbatons, the French equivalent of Hogwarts, as had Hagrid, with his Keeper of Keys and Grounds duties. They hadn't been able to take and immediate honeymoon, due to their dual responsibilities, but when Charlie heard about their plight he immediately offered his services to McGonagall for as long as necessary so Hagrid could at least got stay with her in France.

So now, here he was in all his well-muscled, curly-haired glory. The female population of Hogwarts had sat up and begun paying close attention the moment he stepped foot within the wards. Hermione couldn't deny his obvious charisma and charm, and none of the other female staff members seemed to be able to either. Poor Pomona would turn as bashful as a Mimosa pudica whenever he was around, Merlin damn their age difference. It was quite the sight to behold.

"Hey there, 'Mione! Just off to grab a pint at the Three Broomsticks. That last class did me in. I don't think I've ever smelled so many different perfumes in such close proximity all at once like that. I've had a raging headache ever since." he laughed, strolling up to her easily and flashing her a crooked grin.

She rolled her eyes and began her trek anew, "I know what you mean. There seems to be an over-abundance of perfumes and colognes being worn by the student population recently, isn't there?"

Charlie laughed again, "I forgot you've got your own fan club to be getting on with. Must be tough to be surrounded by the little monsters twenty-four-seven and know that you won't escape until next June, eh?"

Hermione shot him a sideways glare as they walked into the village proper. "You signed on to help for as long as Minerva needs you. Do you really think Hagrid will leave his wife before the school year is done? Would you leave your hypothetical wife like that? I can't imagine you would." She chuckled, "And if you did, you clearly learned nothing from your time with the dragons."

Charlie stopped to wrench the door open, holding it open for her to enter first, just like his mother taught him. "Er, I forgot to ask if this was where you were headed. I just assumed. After all, with you, it's almost always either here or Tomes, and you look hungry to me." he winked lasciviously at her, earning him a slap on the arm.

"Charles Ignatius Weasley, don't make me write your mother!" Hermione shrieked, her head thrown back with the force of her resultant laughter. Ever since he had arrived, Charlie had been flirting incessantly with her, at least she thought he was. She wasn't great at picking up the differences between when someone of the opposite sex - or, Morgana forbid, the same sex, which was even more confusing, she found - was flirting with her versus playing with her. In her mind, they were practically the same thing, so she couldn't see the point of attempting to disentangle them; it was far too taxing on her already over-worked brain.

She wasn't sure what to do about it, though, or even if she needed to do anything about it, as she and Sirius were still seeing each other, yet very casually, with a few shags thrown in for good measure. Things were going swimmingly, though they hadn't yet addressed the great, grey hippogriff in the room: what exactly were they to each other? That thought had niggled at the back of her consciousness for far too long, yet Sirius seemed completely oblivious to her need to categorize their… relationship, whatever it may be.

She slipped into a booth, pushing her frustrations with the male sex to the back of her mind as she picked up a menu. She quickly tapped what she wanted with her wand, effortlessly sending her order off to the kitchen, before beginning to shuck off her scarf and coat, leaving it pooled around her hips.

Charlie sat down his own menu and planted his hands on the table. "So, how have your classes been going?" he asked, eliciting a groan from Hermione as she let her head fall forward onto the tabletop, in perfect mimicry of her earlier position in her office. She mumbled out a reply which was muffled by the solid oak, causing Charlie to laugh loudly at her utter defeat.

"That bad?" He grabbed their food and drinks off the heavily-laden tray that had floated over from behind the bar, quickly dispersing the items across the available space.

Hermione heaved herself up into a sitting position, bolstered by the aroma drifting skywards from her bowl of stew and the promise of a relaxing, and likely cathartic conversation with a friend. And maybe a pint or two.

OxOxOxOxO

A few drinks and an hour or so later found Hermione and Charlie swapping their most ridiculous and awkward stories of student-on-professor flirtation attempts.

"Wait, wait, wait… So you're telling me that she tried to corner you? In a greenhouse?!" Hermione could feel tears streaming down her face as she clutched her stomach, attempting to stem the flow of her laughter.

"There was no try - she did! She would have been successful if not for Neville and his impeccable good timing! Thank god for that man and his need to check on his precious plants at odd hours!"

Hermione hiccoughed with laughter, slowly blowing out air through her mouth as she tried to calm down. "Is it bad that I'm happy it's not just me? That it's not just the male population of Hogwarts that are horny; these students are all slags, I swear. And throwing themselves at teachers?!" her eyes widened, scandalized.

Charlie grinned. "Frankly I don't blame the blokes for chasing after you, 'Mione. You're a catch."

Hermione blushed crimson, her glassy eyes shining demurely. "You're not so bad yourself, Charlie Weasley. Any lady would be lucky to have you."

Next thing she knew, Charlie was leaning across the table and his hands were in her hair, his lips upon hers. It took her a moment for her brain to realize what was happening, but as soon as she did, she was pushing him away. It took a moment, as he was quite sloshed himself, but as soon as he noticed she was trying to pry him off, not pull him closer, he stopped and pulled back.

"Something the matter?" He asked, and it nearly broke Hermione to nod. He looked like utter perfection like that, with his eyes smouldering and his lips swollen from kissing.

"I-I can't." she stammered out. "I'm seeing someone." The mischievous light in his eyes dimmed immediately at her pronouncement.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't know, I swear." Hermione held up her hand to stop his stream of apologies. She knew Molly and Arthur had raised him better than that.

"It's fine, Charlie. Really. I just can't in good consciousness lead you on when I know there's someone else. I'm so sorry if I did anything to make you think I was interested," Charlie shook his head. "Or, whatever… I just, we haven't labeled what we have, but I don't want to risk ruining it by messing around with you, ya know?"

Charlie nodded thoughtfully, his face sobering up before her eyes. She decided it was time to go and began gathering up her things and donning them quickly; She didn't want to further damage her relationship - working and otherwise - with the second eldest Weasley son, but she needed to get away. She needed to talk with Sirius, discuss what they were to one another…

The sound of her name being called out drew her from her reverie. She looked up from where she was tying her scarf around her neck to find Charlie studying her. "Who is it?" he asked carefully, not quite meeting her eyes.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat instantly and forced herself to answer; Charlie deserved that much, after all.

"Sirius. It's Sirius."

Author's Note:

Guuuuys! I'm SO sorry it's been so long since I last updated! I'm embarrassed; it's pretty mortifying, honestly. Life has been insane, and my Muse has been a bitch. I've come up with some amazing plunnies while she refused to touch this, and they're well on their way (won't publish without at least 10 chapters ready and waiting, and will follow a strict posting schedule). I cannot wait to share them with you!

As you may have seen on my profile, A Sirius Misunderstanding has been nominated for Best Novella in the Shrieking Shack Society's 2017 Mischief Managed Awards! I'm beside myself with glee/pride that one/some of you thought this random word vomit from my addled brain is good enough for such a title. Siriusly, thank you!

Beta love to justcourbeau, you beautiful soul, you - and mahawna! And a shoutout to my chat girls Miranda, Steph, and Hawna. Thank you all for putting up with me and my psycho-bitch Muse! 3