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WARNING! This part contains lemon. Sorry for anyone who doesn't like that. Anyways, hopefully it's good. Hope you enjoy either way.

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Part 14 - The Return of the Prodigal Son

Percy Weasley had been missing and presumed dead for over two years. None of his family or friends saw him from June 29th, 1997, when he was spotted leaving the Ministry of Magic a little before midnight, until the afternoon of October 3rd, 1999, when Mr. Weasley called an emergency Order meeting and walked into the kitchen of Twelve Grimmauld with his third eldest son.

There was happiness. There was crying. There was... confusion on my part because I didn't know what the big deal was.

Not once in the entire time I'd been staying with those people did they mention that there was one more Weasley child.

"I don't get it," I mumbled as Sirius finally resumed his seat across from me and tugged the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey out of my hands, "What's going on?"

With a shaking, relieved chuckle, my godfather bluntly stated, "We thought he was dead."

"Oh," I responded thoughtfully, turning back to watch the emotional reunion that was still going on between Percy and his family, "Ya, that would explain it."

The poor Weasleys. All that time they had to just assume their son, their brother, was going to spend eternity as a missing person poster. I know losing my mom was horrible, but at least I know what happened to her. I didn't have to spend my whole life wondering if she suffered, if she was possibly still being held somewhere or where they'd disposed of her body.

Two years. The Weasleys wondered and hoped for over two years. That's torture. I didn't understand how any of them could walk around with smiles on their faces, could be the loving, wonderful people they were.

Slowly, everyone drifted back to their seats, the twins settling Percy between them and putting their arms around his shoulders. It was a sweet, brotherly gesture that the bespectacled man seemed very uncomfortable with. Nonetheless, he did not push Fred nor George away.

"I know you all have questions," Percy began, his tone business-like and even, "And I know I owe explanations, as well as apologies, but, for now, please just listen to what I have to say. I've risked a great deal coming here and what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance."

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley stated, smiling past the elated tears in her eyes as she gazed lovingly at her boy, "You just go ahead and say what you need to."

Percy nodded, politely stating, "Thank you." And then he began his story.

"Shortly after the Barty Crouch fiasco, I was approached by Amelia Bones from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very... different job. Based on Dumbledore's warning that the Dark Lord had returned, she wanted to send an undercover agent in to infiltrate his operation. I was secretly given auror training and then assigned as Fudge's assistant.

"I knew how you would react, thinking that he only chose me as a way of having a spy within our family. I was counting on it and the subsequent rift I could fabricate. I'm very sorry I had to use you all in such a manner, but it was necessary for my mission.

"After various falling outs with family members, I began to loudly express a false desire to get back at you all, as well as disillusionment with the Ministry's incompetence and displeasure with the influx of muggle culture perverting ours.

"It wasn't long until I was approached by an agent of the Dark Lord and after that I rose fairly quickly within the organization."

He sounded almost proud.

I could've kicked him in the fucking head.

"I-" He choked slightly, clearing his throat and having the good sense to look a little embarrassed as he went on, "They let me into the inner circle after I didn't visit you in the hospital, Dad. I'm sorry. I wanted to go but I knew what it could mean for my mission."

That was all he said on the matter, quickly continuing, "I do mostly bookkeeping, maintaining the legitimate fronts of several corporations that fund the Dark Lord's operations. I was in rather deeply by that point. Because I did such a good job, the Dark Lord requested several audiences with me. We had tea."

Charming.

"But then Amelia Bones was killed and the plan started falling apart. She was the only who knew that I was undercover and, without her, I had no secure contact to whom I could relay the information I was gathering. There were and still probably are compromised individuals within the Ministry.

"I approached Dumbledore and made an arrangement with him. In a sense I began spying on both the Dark Lord and the Ministry, using my positions and Death Eater bookkeeper and assistant to Minister Scrimgeour to inform the Order of impending threats as well as feed mostly false intel to the Dark Lord. The situation was beneficial for all.

"But then Dumbledore died and I no longer had a contact in the Order. Before I could reach out for another, I was demoted as Scrimgeour's assistant. He, like Fudge, gave me my position in order to spy on our family. When I made it quite clear that I wouldn't, that I had had very little contact with you for some time, he deemed me to be no longer of use to him.

"I no longer had a viable position in the Ministry and, again no longer of use in that respect, I was pressured to become a more active, full-time Death Eaters. If I refused, my motives would have come into question and endangered my life and the lives of all my family members. Not seeing any other options, I did as I was told and simply disappeared after work one evening.

"For the past two years I have been shuttled around the globe working on various continents to set up legitimate business fronts for the Dark Lord. I'm afraid his influence is quite widespread. But I kept my cover because I had many occasions to act subversively from within the organization. I never killed the people I was supposed to and I know the locations of at least forty missing and presumed-dead individuals. They are most definitely alive and safe for the time being."

"Where?" I demanded, really not liking the idea of those people's families not knowing what had become of them.

Percy stared right at me, looking me up and down as if evaluating me. He didn't seem all that impressed with what he saw, coolly questioning, "Do you intend to retrieve them?"

"You bet your fucking arse I do!" I answered, finishing off the bottle of firewhiskey and slamming it down against the table. Sirius snatched it away and gave a horrified little yelp, cradling the empty glass like it was a child.

Oops.

"If I tell you, you'll have to make the recovery operation incredibly stealthy," Percy warned condescendingly, "No one knows those people are still alive and, if it is discovered that they are, my position will be severely compromised."

I rolled my eyes. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" I raged at him, standing to my feet and wobbling a bit precariously, "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Not really," He responded pompously, uncaringly.

"I'll bet you do," I laughed, smirking cruelly, "You work with the Death Eaters so you're bound to know who I am! Does the name Leila Kione ring any bells, motherfucker?"

His blue eyes went wide behind his thick glasses.

"Ya," I chuckled, "Fucking thought so! Tell me where those people are!"

He only paused for a beat before stating plainly, "Jan Mayen Island. It's just off the coast of-"

"I know where Jan Mayen is!!" I shouted at him, advancing a few paces and really goddamn pissed, "I was there a few months ago!! You're the one who tortured Kobus de Klauw and had those muggles toss him off the cliff!! You son of a bitch, I should kill you where you stand!!"

"It was necessary," He answered quietly, not showing any signs of fear. I had to sort of respect him for that. Just a little. I was really fucking scary, after all. "I had to keep up appearances," He said, "And it is entirely because of me that de Klauw and the other countless people are still alive. You'll find them in the water at the bottom of the Loran-C station cliff face."

I stared at him dumbly. "Shit!" I swore, kicking my empty chair across the room, "I jumped off that goddamn cliff for nothing!!"

"What?" Percy demanded.

"I was there when the muggles tossed Kobus," I explained, not quite as pissed at him as I had been but still a bit annoyed, "I went over the edge after him."

Percy laughed.

I lunged at him, fully planning on beating him into a bloody pulp.

Remus tackled me to the floor. "Please stop," He whispered as he was contorting my arms behind my back, "You're on the same side and he did everything he could."

Groaning, I relented, "Fine. Fuck. Whatever. Just get off me!"

He did so. I fetched my chair, dragged it back to the table, and slumped down in it, pouting quite childishly.

"How did you petrify them?" I wanted to know, "The only thing that would do that is reflected basilisk stare and the island didn't really strike me as a place where one could be hidden easily from muggles."

The corner of Percy's thin lips twisted ever so slightly before he dug one thin hand into the pocket of his overcoat. When he pulled it out, he had a gallon-sized, dark-tinted glass jar. He laid it on the table and we all squinted at the serpentine movement we could just make out inside.

"A gift," He said proudly, "From the Dark Lord. An operative within Hogwarts found a clutch of about a thousand eggs in the Chamber of Secrets and had them transported out."

All eyes turned to Draco.

"Don't look at me!" He shouted defensively, "I had nothing to do with it! That Chamber was rank! I wouldn't go in there unless someone was paying me a whole hell of a lot!"

A viable argument.

"Anyways," Percy elaborated, jostling the jar just a bit and smirking evilly as the fat shape inside lunged against the dark glass. The tiny teeth clinked loudly and left streaks of green venom to dribble down the sides. "I got the idea to petrify people and have them thrown over the cliff. They're all in stasis and so would remain safe until a time when they could be safely retrieved."

"And what if you died?" I hissed, feeling horrible about the pained looks on the faces of the Weasley family but trying not to care, "What if you died and those people were never found?"

"I have several contingencies in place," He responded, voice low and clinical, "I'm not stupid."

For a long, tense few moments, we glared heatedly at one another in the stillness of the kitchen.

"So why did you come back now?" I asked, fighting hard to keep civil as the firewhiskey coursing through my system made my head spin, "What's so urgent that you'd finally risk this all-important mission?"

He glanced sadly at the rest of the Weasley clan, his crying parents, his proud brothers and sister. "Because," Percy answered, "There is a plan in the works to kidnap someone in my family."

Everyone drew in a sharp breath.

"Who?" Fred yelped. George contributed, "And what the bloody hell for?"

"I thought we were considered a 'kill on sight' kind of bunch," Bill dryly joked, "Kidnapping is a bit generous."

Shrugging, Percy stated, "I don't know why. I'm high up but I'm not privileged to some of the more sinister plots. I just overheard a conversation. I couldn't make it out very well, but they mentioned the 'Weasley,' 'snatch,' 'powerful,' and 'asset.' That was all I got."

"Are you thinking some kind of ransom thing?" Ron asked lowly, seriously, "Because I'm probably the one they're after then."

Harry hung his head in shame and anger.

"Possibly," Percy answered, "But I don't think that's the extent of it. Because of your connections to Harry, you and Hermione have always been high on the list of prime targets. Numbers two and three, actually. I have a feeling this is something more. The two Death Eaters who were discussing it were a pair of men I know to be Dark Magic researchers. Their sole job is to come up with new and exciting ways to hurt people. I think they've isolated something special about one of you, about your magic in particular, and they've decided it would be beneficial to attempt to harness that potential power for the Dark Lord's use."

There was silence.

"What do you think we should do, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked tearfully.

Sighing, her son said, "Be careful. I suppose I really shouldn't have come with this kind of unsubstantiated and vague threat, but... I just didn't want to risk any of you being hurt because you didn't know, because I chose not to warn you."

They all beamed at him.

It was kind of sweet. Maybe he wasn't so bad...

"And now I must go," He declared sternly, gathering his jarred snake as he stood stiffly from his seat between the twins.

They were both quick to jump up after him. "Aw, come on, mate," George pleaded tearfully. "You just got here!" Fred said, "What's the harm in staying for a few minutes?"

Percy looked sorely tempted, gazing sadly at his family members. But that only lasted a brief moment and then he shook his head and reiterated, "No. It's not safe. I shouldn't remain here any longer than I have to and I need to be getting back to my work." He turned to me, his voice oddly respectful even after all the shouting and cursing and threats of physical violence I'd aimed in his direction not quite five minutes before. "Be careful," He said, "The island is heavily watched during the day." He nodded to his father, adding, "I'll be in touch."

With that, he turned and swept from the room, leaving his family with their hearts swelling with love and pride but broken with fear and worry.

xxXxx

More time passed. The Weasley family mostly stayed inside Grimmauld Place and much greater security measures were taken when they did go out. I led the trio on an excursion back to Jan Mayen and we used magically enhanced scuba gear to pull forty plus petrified victims out of a gulley at eighty feet below the surface of the water. It was very satisfying to be able to reunite them with their families--even if they all had to then go into hiding so Percy's cover wouldn't be blown--and the whole thing made me feel a bit better about myself, about how the situation was finally starting to look up a bit.

We celebrated a few birthdays. Mrs. Weasley's forty-ninth on October 30th and Bill's twenty-ninth on November 29th. The parties were fun, nice distractions to everything that was going on, both in my little world and the universe at large.

Attacks had stepped up. Terrorist-type bombings began taking place at highly populated magical sights all over the world. Five-hundred dead in Athens, two-hundred-fifty in Sydney, nine-hundred in Rome. I kept working with the trio to try to round up horcruxes, largely coordinating the efforts. By the end of November, we had a pretty clear fix on an unknown object suspected to be located somewhere in Belgium. I was operating under the highly amusing theory that it was Voldie's teddy. I enjoyed imagining a scenario in which he'd burst into hysterical tears when he realized I'd sliced it to pieces.

I guess I'm just sick like that.

We did a brief recon mission on December 1st and had a plan to go back towards the end of the month to raid the Catholic church where we believed the object was stashed... I didn't mean that to be quite as sacrilegious as it sounded...

I would've been perfectly in my element and perfectly at ease had it not been for Charlie. Not only had I still not gotten word from him, not only was I now worried to death over him being kidnapped because of Percy's declarations, I... I started having erotic dreams about him.

I'd been having dreams for awhile, but not like those. They were so vivid and wonderful and incredibly frustrating since they weren't fucking real and never fucking finished.

I would be lying in bed, half-asleep, and a solid weight would dip my mattress, hovering over me and slowly lowering itself close. The body would feel so warm, so strong, and I wouldn't be able to resist reaching out to touch.

Charlie's crooked, cocky grin would swim into focus as I opened my eyes.

I'd just barely have a chance to breathe his name before his lips were crashing down against mine, fierce and tender and oh-so-very-wonderful.

We stayed melded together for an impossibly long time; I no longer needed oxygen because I had Charlie in all his dizzying perfection.

But, finally, he would reluctantly pull away, making me whine and reach for him as he panted heavily and nuzzled his scratchy russet stubble against the smooth column of my neck. His hands would slide beneath my thin t-shirt as mine did the same to his, as we wordlessly began stripping each other of the layers that stood between us. Soon there would be nothing, just skin on skin, hot and slick and electric, our bodies joined with an exquisite stretch and symphony of gasps and moans, moving together in a slow, rhythmic rise to ecstasy.

Charlie would hold me close as he moved above me, whispering words of love against my skin, and I would feel my heart just about burst.

"Is this a dream?" I would inevitably ask just before we both reached our peaks, because I could never seem to stop myself.

Charlie's movement would suddenly cease, his blue eyes shining and open as he stared down at me. "Yes," He would reply.

In the next moment, I would find myself bolting upright in bed, breathing heavily and sweating and just about ready to snap.

It was fucking maddening.

I wasn't some sex-goddess but I was no blushing virgin either and a girl does have needs and I couldn't seem to satisfy mine without that man. Charlie and I hadn't even done anything yet and I still couldn't get over missing his touch. Nothing was good enough to replace it and I remained frustrated and damned cranky.

Usually I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep after one of those dreams. I'd lie awake, cursing the world.

Several nights a week, I'd hear the door to my room softly open and close, followed by tiny feet scampering across the floor. Roo's bright eyes would peek over the side of my bed, checking to see if I was up.

She'd taken to jumping into bed with me at night if she had bad dreams. I was the only one awake at that hour on a regular basis.

"Bonjour, petite," I would greet quietly, "Comment allez-vous?" (Hello, little one. How are you?)

"Je vais bien," She'd answer as she crawled beneath my covers and squirmed to get comfortable, "J'ai eu un cauchemar." (I'm fine. I had a nightmare)

Her French lessons were coming along nicely. The little girl was certainly more adept than the trio and her pronunciation was near perfect.

I'd kiss her cheek, hugging her close and whispering, "Désolé, ma jolie fille. Le quel était de?" (I'm sorry, my pretty girl. What was it about?)

She'd squirm, pouting at me as she clumsily pushed long locks of red gold away from her face and said, "Les licornes encore." (The unicorns again.)

It was always those damn unicorns. Far as I could tell, she wasn't afraid of the beasts. On the contrary, she was rather fond of them. But they always had starring roles in her bad dreams. It was strange.

On one particular night, after that typical chain of events, we just laid there in silence for a while before Roo finally asked, "Leila, comment dites-vous 'I love you'?" (Leila, how do you say 'I love you'?)

I smiled, "'Je t'aime.' Pourquoi?" ('I love you'. Why?)

She grinned mischievously throwing her arms around my neck and cuddling close. "Parce," She murmured tiredly, "Que je veux savoir le dire à ma maman quand je la rencontre." (Because I want to know how to say it to my mummy when I meet her.)

A lump suddenly appeared high in my throat, tight and strangling and I couldn't swallow it down. I hugged Roo tighter and tried to remember how to pray.

xxXxx

Remus' fortieth birthday was December 4th, 1999. On December 3rd, Tonks cornered me after breakfast.

I was still avoiding my father and I was still pissed at the both of them for not telling me that they were dating. The metamorphamagus, who was sporting blue and green striped spikes that day, was not exactly my most favorite person in Grimmauld.

I was pulling books down from the shelves in the library and I heard her coming. She had a distinct, inherently clumsy walk that was just about unmistakable. She thought she was being stealthy though so I didn't let on that I knew she was there and I didn't turn around. Maybe, I reasoned, if I ignored her for long enough, she'd lose her nerve and go the hell away.

"Leila."

Damn. No such luck.

I glanced down from the top of the ladder on which I was perched, blowing dust off of an ancient copy of Commentarii de Bello Gallico. "I'm busy," I snapped shortly, turning my attention back to the old book.

"Your dad's birthday is tomorrow," She went on regardless, sounding rather annoyed, "I'm planning the party and I want to make sure you aren't going to skip out and that you'll have a gift for him."

Glaring, I responded, "What business is it of yours what I do and do not do?"

She opened her mouth like she was going to launch into the 'I'm his damn girlfriend and I care about his feelings' speech I'd been trying to provoke. However, instead, she merely said, "I know he's not going to be able to enjoy himself if you're not there. You're his daughter."

With an eye roll, I went back to flipping through my book, stating, "I'll think about it."

"No you will not think about it!" She crowed indignantly, obviously getting pissed, "You will get your skinny arse down from there right this second and you will go buy him a sodding gift!!"

"Lady," I snarled, stashing the book and jumping to the floor, getting right up in her face. She was taller but I was meaner, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I will kick your mighty morphin' arse if you ever speak to me like that again. I don't take orders from you. I already have a mother and you aren't even half the woman she was. Are we clear?"

Expression deeply wounded, she reeled back a step. I know it was a bitchy thing to say, I know she just wanted to make sure I would be there for my dad and was just trying that tough love thing everyone seemed to fond of using on me, but I couldn't help myself.

Fucking Remus did not make her my new mother.

She and my dad could hump like bunnies every night for the rest of both their lives for all I cared, but that chick would never be my mother. She'd never come close.

She needed to understand that if we were ever going to get along.

Without another word, I shoved past her, off to buy Remus a birthday present. I'd just thought of the perfect one...

xxXxx

My mood wasn't exactly one that could be called sunny the next day, but I spent most of the morning highly looking forward to watching Remus (and Tonks) when he opened my present. I was barely able to sit still during the cake because I was so excited and nearly botched teaching Roo how to sing "Happy Birthday" in French.

But, at last, Remus reached for my gift. He beamed when he read the simple, handwritten tag, elatedly announcing, "It's from Leila!"

I had a rather stupid grin on my face.

He tore open the pretty blue wrapping paper the shopgirl had thrown in for no extra charge, prying open the small box he found beneath and immediately going pale.

I was trying so hard not to giggle that I could barely breathe.

He dangled the ball-gag and leather flogger out at arms length, not seeming to know exactly how to react to them. After laying both gifts on the table, he pulled out the card. As his eyes moved over the words I'd written, I recited them from memory in my head:

"Happy birthday, Dad. Shut your girlfriend's big fat mouth and beat her arse raw or I'm going to do it for you."

Sirius, who had been reading over Remus' shoulder, laughed so hard that he ended up on the floor, curled in a ball and seeming to be in a great deal of pain as he held his held his convulsing stomach.

Tonks was entirely stark white, hair and all.

I couldn't get the stupid grin off my face, especially when Roo picked the ball-gag up off the table, examined it with great interest, and brightly asked, "What's this for, Mr. Remus?"

xxXxx

Remus tried to have a "talk" with me that night.

I told him there was nothing to talk about; I didn't give half a shit who he was fucking as long as she got it through her thick, multi-colored skull that she would not be parenting me now or ever.

But it wasn't like that.

They were in love.

I went to bed.

Frustrated by my dreams, I gave myself the goal of trying to put a stop to them before they could get me so bothered that I couldn't go back to sleep. I hadn't had any luck with my previous goal of trying to get the dreams to progress to a satisfying conclusion, so that seemed like my best option.

I was lying in bed, half-asleep, when I felt a solid weight carefully dip my mattress, hovering over me and slowly lowering itself down. The body felt so warm, so strong, and, even before I opened my eyes, I couldn't resist reaching out to touch. The skin beneath my palms was like hot silk melded over a layer of steel. Biceps under my right hand, I knew just from the feel, abs under my left.

I gave a frustrated whimper, reaching up to clutch a head full of soft shorn hair tight in both fists, amazed at just how real it felt and cursing my subconscious for having such power. Brimstone and clove smoke and earth overwhelmed my senses. "Don't leave," I begged, feeling stupid for talking to a dream and close to crying because it wouldn't fucking listen to me. I didn't want to open my eyes because I was so afraid it wouldn't be who I wanted it to be; or worse, that I'd be just in time to watch him melt away.

The body blanketed mine, mass crushing and exquisite. Thick, chapped lips and a scruffy beard nuzzled my neck as Charlie's warm voice rumbled, "Never again, love."

I let my eyes open in the dark, saw red hair and freckles and those dangerous-tropical-water, drown-and-not-even-care blue eyes and a loud, convulsive sob bubbled up out of my throat. My arms tightened around Charlie's strong body and I slammed my lips fiercely against his, so desperate for him that my previous plan of cutting the dream off went straight out the window. I just didn't care anymore. I missed him and I wanted him in whatever way I could get him.

"Please," I begged mindlessly, hardly aware of the tears as I wrapped my legs around his slim waist and held on for dear life, under the impression that my thighs were enough to hold the figment of my own overactive imagination firmly in place, "Stay. Please."

"Not going anywhere," He promised, cupping my face reverently in his palms, smudging away tears with his thick thumbs, compulsively petting my mussed blonde hair. He pressed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes and letting out a strained groan. "God, I missed you so much," He growled deeply, "So fucking much. Leila..."

"Charlie," I responded, leaning up to kiss the hollow of his throat, to suck and lick all up the tight cords of his neck because I suddenly couldn't go another minute without the tangy salt, vaguely charred taste of his skin.

He pulled me closer, our bodies molded against each other, my breasts pressed painfully but wonderfully tight against his chest and our hips locked and tongues clashing and it still wasn't enough. Wasn't close enough.

"Charlie," I moanpanted, tugging at his t-shirt in my rush to get it over his head, "Charlie. I want- I want-"

He kissed my cheek. The gesture so tender that I thought I'd die from the rapid fluttering jump in my heartbeat. "You sure, baby?" He asked, voice strained but gentle, laced with his own wants and needs but... willing to take it slow and needing to make it right.

Wait a minute.

My dream didn't know what I wanted?

My dream wanted to take it slow?

What?

I stopped dead, peering up through the dark and into his confused face, brushing my knuckles along his scratchy square jaw and once again noting just how real, how solid he felt.

I had to know.

"Is this a dream?" I whispered, wide-eyed and already mentally berating myself for spoiling a good thing as I prepared for the sickening jolt back into lonely consciousness.

A cocky, crooked smirk twisted Charlie's handsome features, his eyes bright as he leaned to kiss me again, wrapped his arms around me and rasped against my ear, "Dream come true, love."

"CHARLIE!!!" I shrieked, struggling to reach for the lamp on my bedside table, switching on a light because I needed to make sure it really wasn't a dream, wasn't some sick joke my mind was playing.

His broad, muscular frame didn't melt away, stayed kneeling over me with an amused yet vaguely puzzled expression on his tan, freckled face.

He was real!

He was back!

"Oh, Charlie!" I cried, throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing tight as I cried tears of joy against his shoulder, "Charlie, you're back!! I missed you so much!!"

"Missed you, too," He breathed, burying his face in my hair and inhaling deeply. He squeezed me so tight that his arms shook and my ribcage just about cracked. It was the greatest feeling in the world--safe, wanted, loved.

We stayed like that for the longest time, just glad to have each other back, unwilling to let go for even a moment, because neither of us wanted the other to get away again. Eventually, those nights of frustration seemed to flood over me all at once, turning my skin hot and flushed, hypersensitive, aching for touch. I kissed Charlie's bare shoulders, splaying my hands flat against his strong back and drawing the tips of my fingertips along the lines of his Fireball tattoo. I traced his body for injuries, found none, then began tracing his body purely for the immense pleasure of tracing his body. I reveled in the harsh angles of him, the firm, supple plains of muscles and the starkly defined lines that separated them from each other, the sun-kissed freckles and smatterings of crinkly dark ginger hair.

He shivered under my touch, impossibly large hands pushing beneath the oversized nightshirt I wore. His hard calluses grated the soft skin of my sides, had me moaning with the feather-light caress as trailed open-mouthed kisses against my collarbone.

"So," He questioned conversationally, smiling and casually stroking my hip, "Did you stay out of trouble while I was away?"

Laughing breathlessly against his ear, I writhed beneath him and tightened my grip on his short hair. "Not by a long shot," I quipped, high off... him. Just him.

He leaned back a bit, kneeling between my legs and grinning up at me over the length of my body, all mischief and trouble as he placed a chaste kiss on the inside of my bare left knee. "That's my girl," He beamed proudly, kisses coming higher, nimble fingers toying with the elastic on my simple white cotton panties as they came down.

"Charlie," I breathed shakily, meeting his eyes over the slight swell of my own breasts and stomach, my fingers grasping his short hair and pulling to urge him forward.

He laughed against my aching center, breath hot, maddening. He took his time, cradling, trapping my backside in his broad hands and laying electrified kisses against the soft skin of my thighs but not where they would have been most appreciated. I whimpered helplessly, wanting to shout stop teasing, you git! but unable make the words come out. My throat felt too tight to speak, my limbs too heavy to move as the ache in my gut turned to a raw, needy burn.

"Charlie," I finally managed to whine, the word frantic and choked. I was almost sobbing in frustration yet again and that man seemed oblivious to the fact that I was about to yank a fistful of his hair out by the roots.

"Patience, love," He chuckled, tongue darting out for just one mind-numbing flick against my swollen clit. It made me yelp shrilly, sent my hips skyrocketing up for more, but Charlie easily held them right where he wanted them, nuzzling his scratchy stubble against the inside of my thigh and nipping lightly at the juncture before adding, "Got all the time in the world..."

Charlie is an exceedingly patient man.

I am not a patient woman.

However, his patience led to such... exquisite consequences that I can hardly find fault. After all, who am I to complain if he wants to spend the better part of an hour with his face between my legs, making me writhe and beg mindlessly as he brings me close to the edge over and over and over without letting me fall?

"Charlie, please," I sobbed, barely able to breathe, unable to think at all past the ravenous need to which he'd driven me.

I felt him grin against my cunt--such an odd place to feel a grin--his fingers and tongue doing the most amazing things as he hummed, "Well, I guess since you asked so politely."

Without warning, he rubbed and licked in the absolute perfect spots and I felt myself coming so hard I saw nothing but white hot nothing, my whole body convulsing, my hips fucking vibrating with the force of the waves after waves of contractions set deep in my abdomen and radiating outward. For a moment, the conscious part of me was expelled by pure lust, by biology and need and the deep primal satisfaction that ignited every nerve ending. In this detached state, I listened to myself crying out in sheer ecstasy, observed the stretched handfuls of sheets in my fists, watched Charlie watching me with an utterly adoring, awestruck expression on his wet, shining face.

The whole room went dim and fuzzy for a bit. When I fully came back to myself, Charlie was laying in the bed beside me, propped up on one elbow and playing with a shock of dirty blonde as he smiled that smug-bastard smile I knew I was never going to get enough of.

"Did you cut your hair?" He inquired pleasantly, not sounding at all like he just sent me into a blackout orgasm, "It's cute."

Cuddling against his bare chest, I grinned and let my hand wander down his taut stomach, beneath the waistband of his tatty blue jeans. He wore nothing beneath. "Do you really want to talk about my hair?" I challenged impishly, refusing to be put off by the fact that my voice was still quaking as I stroked his hard cock, "I can think of much better things to do right now."

He sucked in a harsh breath, body going rigid and eyes slamming shut. Giggling, still buzzed off the joy of having him back, ignoring the fact that I my legs were so weak and quaky that they could barely support my weight, I gracelessly straddled his hips. I undid his zipper, peeling denim off his sculpted ass and lean, sinewy legs.

"You don't play fair, love," He groanchuckled, rough hands reaching for me as I peeled my nightshirt over my head. I snickered at him and moved just out of reach, swatting his leg and replying, "As if you're one to talk."

With a playful growl, Charlie sat up quickly and darted out to grab me around the waist. I shrieked in surprise as he yanked me into his lap, trapping me in his strong arms and attacking my breasts with teeth and tongue, hands everywhere at once. I exhaled shakily, holding onto his shoulders as he slid his cock smoothly inside of me. I felt filled, whole, right where I belonged. The both of us moaned deeply, clinging to each other and hoping to never have to let go.

"God," Charlie gasped, stilling with great effort as he gazed up at me, pressing my electrified body tight against his, "God. Leila. So beautiful. I-"

I leaned down to kiss him, effectively silencing his nonsensical babbling and beginning to move.

The pace was slow, a tender, building rhythm set by the broad hands at my hips, rising me up and down in time with the ragged breaths licking across my sweat-slicked skin. As soon as my lips left his, Charlie began babbling again--he didn't seem to be able to stop--whispering words of love and adoration against any and every inch of me he could reach. My breathing was shallow, caught between disbelief and utter bliss as the two of us traveled higher and higher, closer and closer to the sun wrapped in each other's arms.

All at once, I felt a rapid, trilling buzz against my clit, crying out loud with shock as Charlie did the same, his hips bucking wildly as his rhythm began picking up, began loosing beats in the frantic drive for more. Looking down, I discovered the snitch tattoo hovering just at the base of his cock, wings beating wildly and shining gold body attacking the both of us every time I ground down.

And with Charlie's mouth gasping, sucking, pulling at my breasts, his hands kneading my ass as his moans and incoherent cries filled the air, it was too much, for the both of us.

Tidal waves of pleasure pounded over me, pouring out from that wonderful epicenter deep in my gut and turning my limbs to jelly. I felt my inner walls contracting around Charlie's cock, felt him pulse inside me and cry out my name against my throat as his hips snapped forward again and again, pistoning harder and harder, clutching me desperately against his chest as he rode out the flood of his own release.

When I recovered, we were lying down again, Charlie sprawled on top of me and using my breasts as pillow as he panted for breath in his sleep of exhaustion. His arms were so tight around me, safe and strong and warm, almost like he expected me to be taken away at any moment and he would fight with everything he had to keep that from happening. The snitch tattoo made an appearance, fluttering around the dragon tattoo across his back and coming to rest on the cap of his shoulder.

I leaned back against the only pillow out of five that had managed to stay on the bed during our energetic coupling, running my slim fingers through Charlie's soft ginger hair. I closed my eyes and fell asleep with a blissful smile on my face.

xxXxx

Three days later, Charlie and I still had not left my bedroom. We were surviving off chocolate bars from his knapsack and he'd transfigured a small bathroom and shower just off the closet. We didn't particularly need anything else.

My room was an all out disaster area, complete with overturned furniture and piles of clothes and sheets and pillows that had been flung haphazardly about in each renewed fit of passion. The air was sticky and hot.

Both Charlie and I were covered all over in bites and bruises, all our muscles sore and strained, but it didn't matter. After being apart so long, neither of us wanted to share the other, nor did we want them to be out of arms reach for longer than a few moments.

We spent the exhausted lulls between sleep and sex cuddling and talking quietly, filling each other in on all that we'd been doing in the other's absence. Charlie's dragon mission went very well. He successfully saved several beasts from Death Eater hands and gathered some intel in the process. After hearing my stories about running into the burning building, throwing a Death Eater out of an apartment building, and diving off a cliff into the Arctic Ocean, Charlie spent about three hours sulking angrily and another three trying to torture me into swearing I'd never do anything so stupid again. I told him I couldn't make that promise but I would definitely try to be more careful. It was good enough for him and he finally, relented his assault by giving us what we were both fitfully craving.

But alas, the sex-a-thon had to end at some point. On the evening of the third day, we were lounging naked across my nearly bare bed, panting and trying desperately to recover from yet another marathon love-making session. We'd been naked for pretty much all three days; the only time clothing touched my body, it was just lacy lingerie, which Charlie was very appreciative of yet very quick to rip to shreds in order to get to what was hidden underneath.

Grinning broadly and gasping for air, Charlie rolled over and began kissing a small cluster of freckles he'd discovered at the base of my spine. He liked to connect them with his tongue, tracing the shape of a small, lopsided heart and claiming that it was his heart.

"I told you that I love you yet today?" He beamed, pulling me out of my almost nap, rolling me onto my back and flopping gracelessly down on top of me to once again situate his head against my breasts. He'd declared that they were his pillows and I wasn't about to argue.

"Mmm," I hummed contentedly, lazily, stretching like a jungle cat in a sunbeam, "Not in the last five minutes."

He tsked, snuggling closer and yawning, "I'm laying down on the job then... Leila?"

"Mhmm?" I responded, eyes only half open as I once again began drifting off into an utterly drained sleep.

Picking his head up just a bit, Charlie smiled down at me, planting a chaste kiss on my lips before whispering, "I love you."

"Love you, too, stud," I responded softly, smiling despite myself, "Now shut the hell up and let me sleep or no more sex."

"I'll be good," He quickly chirped, settling back down in his newly-claimed spot, letting out a deep sigh as the both of us got comfortable in the center of the bed.

The door to my room flew open with a loud and sudden BAM, making Charlie and I both jump nearly out of our skins and then take a tumble onto the floor. As I was falling, I just barely registered Remus, Sirius, Bill, Tonks, and the twin standing in the doorway with expressions of complete surprise all over their slack-jawed faces.

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCKING HELL DO YOU PEOPLE THINK YOU'RE DOING?" I screamed, irate and embarrassed and scrambling desperately for something to cover myself with. Charlie's discarded t-shirt got the job done, the worn white cotton just the right size to hold against my chest and still have my crotch covered.

"Y-You-" Remus stuttered, seeming like he desperately wanted to turn and run for all he was worth but was finding that his legs had gone numb, "You warded yourself into your room. None of us could get in. We were worried that you'd- that you'd-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!!" I shrieked wildly, not caring for their justifications all that much. Yes, I'd warded the door shut. I didn't want us to be disturbed.

Reaching behind myself, I grabbed a small ceramic lamp off the bedside table and hurled it violently at the crowd of gawking intruders. Bill ducked just in time to avoid getting a faceful of glass.

"How did you get here, Charlie?" He asked nonchalantly, like he hadn't almost just gotten his massive collection of scars added on to.

"Apparated," Charlie responded bluntly, on the floor and red in the face and cupping his hands over his privates as he looked for anything he could use to cover up with. He wasn't having as much luck as I had, finding only a pair of my skimpy panties within arms length.

As the pros and cons of reaching for and using the scrap of black lace warred across his handsome features, I glared at our audience, who still had yet to make any attempt at the hasty exit the situation demanded of them. "Get the fuck out!!" I screamed once more, the embarrassment starting to get to me as I found my voice cracking pitifully.

The twins were hypnotized by the one bare asscheek they could still see just beneath the side of Charlie's t-shirt, both men grinning like mad. Gaze seeming to take in the bites and bruises on both my and Charlie's bodies, as well as the complete state of chaos the rest of the room was in, George elbowed his twin and remarked, "Told you she was a hellcat in the sack."

"Yup," Fred agreed, not even trying to get the ridiculous grin off his face, "We totally called it... Hey, Leila-"

"Don't even think of finishing that sentence," Charlie snarled menacingly, struggling to his feet and stomping right into the young man's face. He was still naked, still holding his hands in front of his crotch, and probably would have looked hilarious on any other occasion.

The twins were too fucking afraid to even so much as smirk, the previous smiles melting off both their faces at once before they up and fled.

Loudly clearing his throat as he stared down the remainder of our unwanted visitors, Charlie unflinchingly declared, "If it's not too much trouble, could you please go away."

Regaining some sense, Remus turned and followed the twins' example, joined shortly by Sirius, who was giggling, and Tonks, who was trying desperately not to.

Bill was the only one who remained, mangled face flush with the effort of keeping his laughter at bay. "Um," He snickered cruelly, as only a big brother can do, "I'll let Mum know you're home. Dinner's in fifteen so... be sure to put on some pants."

"Bill," Charlie growled dangerously, taking a step toward the taller man and seeming fully willing to beat him to a pulp if he didn't beat a hasty retreat. I had some mixed feelings about the possibility of watching Charlie naked-wrestle someone who wasn't me, even if it did happen to be his brother...

Throwing his hands up defensively, Bill chuckled, "Fine, fine. Just be sure to make an appearance. Get your strength up, you know?" He winked at me over Charlie's shoulder, adding, "Both of you." With that, he too left, an infuriating bounce in his step and a peppy whistle on his lips.

As soon as everyone was gone, Charlie slammed and relocked the door before falling limply backwards into the bed. I slowly got up from the floor, snuggling up against his side. His arms came around me and we just sat there in silence for the longest time.

"So," Charlie finally said, grinning weakly down at me, "Fifteen minutes... you wanna?"

I couldn't help myself; I burst out laughing.

It was good to have him home.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All together now: AWWWW!!! So sorry this took so long to get out. I had a bit of writer's block with it, which I think I conquered quite nicely. Reviews, as always, are highly encouraged and greatly appreciated ;D