A/N: Well, here we are, at the end of my story "Nocturnal." I sincerely want to thank everybody that came along this journey with me, especially those readers that favorited and followed this beast the day it was initially posted. I also want to thank everyone who took the time to leave a review, as it means a lot! I hope you enjoy the final chapter to "Nocturnal" as this is it...there will be no sequel as one isn't needed. I do have another story cooking up in my head of a Charlie/Hermione pairing, though I'm unsure as to when I will start posting it. Before you leave, let me know your thoughts (the good, the bad, and the ugly) of this chapter and/or my story overall. And thanks for reading!
- November 22, 2016 - March 30, 2017
Chapter 28: A Weasley Winter
Food was piled high atop of the kitchen table of the Burrow, towering over those who were eating away in a frenzy, devouring Mrs. Weasley's Christmas Eve dinner, one she had spent all day preparing, with the aid of Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur, the latter of who kept flicking her long, silvery-blonde hair over her shoulder every time she moved about, much to the annoyance of the Weasley matriarch.
The Burrow was nearly overflowing with guests, as the entire Weasley family had come together, along with Hermione and Harry. Conversation flowed easily enough, bubbling up to a steady roar, as Hermione was tucked next to Charlie, who was debating Ron on Quidditch fouls.
"Oh, come on Charlie! Blagging isn't that bad," the youngest Weasley son said over the table, a bit of lamb flying out of his mouth.
"Speak for yourself," Ginny intervened before Charlie could answer. "You try catching the golden snitch when a Slytherin is holding onto your broom's tail!"
As Harry entered the fray, Hermione mentally rolled her eyes, though she was thoroughly enjoying the company of who she considered her second family.
Times were hard for her after she and Charlie left Australia, as her decision of altering her dad's memory for the second time weighed heavily upon her. On the one hand, she felt that if her father remained a Granger, the death of his wife and her own mum would depress him far beyond what she wanted him to endure. After all, he was going to be the only family member to remain in Australia, as Hermione would have to come back to England.
Yet, on the reversal, changing him back into Wendell Wilkins would yet again plunge her dad back into sorrow, for his 'wife,' Monica Wilkins, had passed on. It was a situation in which Hermione could not win and she constantly wondered if she made the right decision in doing so.
Charlie had been her rock during this period, though, holding her together far better than she could ever manage for herself. He held her every night that she cried, rubbing small circles over her back and offering her strong words of comfort. She was grateful for his presence and loved waking up next to him every morning.
Suddenly, Hermione felt a sharp elbow jab, scattering her thoughts. She looked over and saw that Ginny was eyeing her, while Charlie, Harry, and Ron had moved on to what the actual rules of Quidditch were.
"So when can I see your new house," the youngest Weasley asked.
Hermione grinned. "Whenever you want, really. Charlie and I are staying here tonight and we'll be here most of the day tomorrow but after that, you can come over anytime."
"I still can't believe you and Charlie bought a house together," Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head from side to side in adoration. "You two are acting like a married couple! I mean, you two aren't married, are you?"
Hermione stifled her laughter in order to not draw attention to herself, responding, "No, we're not married, nor are we engaged."
"You know what mum asked me earlier, right after breakfast? You're going to lose it when you find out," Ginny began, eyeing her mother down at the far end of the table, engrossed in a conversation with Bill.
"What did she say?" Hermione was weary yet her curiosity was piqued.
"She wanted to know if I thought you and Charlie were sleeping in the same bed."
Hermione, who unfortunately had taken a sip of her Pumpkin Juice at this time, started choking, alerting Charlie who thumped her lightly on the back, before patting her gently.
"Are you okay," he inquired, looking over at her in mild concern.
"She's good, don't drown the poor girl Charlie," Ginny answered.
Hermione smirked as she said, "I'm fine, thanks," and coughing once more.
He flashed her his boyish smile before returning to Harry and Ron, resuming their Quidditch discussion.
Hermione then turned back to Ginny and questioned, "Your mum really asked you that?"
"Yes," Ginny said in a dramatic fashion. "I mean, honestly, that's exactly the sort of picture I needed in my head so early in the morning! Ugh!" She shuddered.
"You find that repulsive," inquired Hermione, quirking up one brow.
"Listen, I love how you and Charlie are finally dating; why you didn't tell anyone earlier when we pretty much all knew is your own business, but he's my brother. It's just ghastly to me!"
"Which is the exact reason why I'm the one dating him."
"You surprised us all, Hermione. Mum was beginning to worry that Charlie would die in the arms of a dragon and not another human being."
"She doesn't approve, does she, of Charlie and I living together?"
Ginny shrugged. "If she knew you two were sharing the same bed, probably not. I don't know how much she actually knows though. There's been an understanding that my brothers and I share, especially now since we are all older: what don't let mum know what each other is doing. If she found out half of the stuff we hid from her, she'd probably lock us all in our rooms, you and Harry too!"
"I hate keeping things from her though," Hermione protested. "She's like my second mother." At these words, Hermione's heart panged with hurt, knowing that her real mother was forever gone.
"Look at it this way, Hermione," Ginny started, "if you don't tell her what she doesn't need to know, you're technically not lying to her."
"No but I am keeping things from her still."
"Oh don't worry about that," Ginny waved her hand in the air haphazardly, "we all are."
Hermione paused for a beat, staring over at Ginny, and then queried, "So then what is your secret?"
The tips of her ears blushed scarlet, something Hermione has never seen before, as the youngest Weasley leaned in her head and responded in with a sigh, "Harry asked me to marry him."
"WHAT?!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs, something she hadn't meant to do, however, the entire table fell silent, as every eye in the vicinity looked over at the pair.
Hermione felt her own face flash as she heard Ginny whispering beside her, staring down at the floor, "Please swallow me up, please swallow me up."
"What was that about," Ron asked, the first one to break the awkward silence.
"Um," Hermione stuttered, as she had a feeling that Ginny might pass out at any second, "Ginny was telling me that Luna Lovegood was engaged."
Excited chatter broke out amongst the table guests, Hermione mentally smacking herself for coming up with such a ridiculous story.
"Who is she engaged to, Ginny dear," Mrs. Weasley called down.
"I think it was a Muggle fellow," she piped back, her voice abnormally high, a trait her mother picked up on. It seemed all of her brothers did as well, for they were looking at their sister abnormally, another quiet falling over the rowdy group.
This was broken however when Victoire suddenly threw a handful of pudding across the table that splattered over Fred's face. He and his twin looked stunned for several seconds, as the oldest Weasley grandchild emitted a high-pitched giggle. Soon after, Fred and George joined in, which affected Bill and Fleur. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley followed, of which the hilarity took to Charlie and Ron, as even Percy grinned. However, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry all seemed exempt from the funniness.
"You told her," Harry guessed with terror.
"I'm surprised you didn't, actually," Ginny returned before she trained her attention on the witch in question, saying, "and thank you Hermione, for making me nearly faint at the thought that I would be telling my entire family on Christmas Eve that I was engaged to Harry Potter."
"Sorry," she muttered, laughing in a shaky manner, her mouth set in a frown.
"Hermione," Harry started, making sure no one else was paying attention, "you can't tell anybody about this. You shouldn't even repeat it to Ginny later on."
"Okay," Hermione said.
"No, swear to it," Harry retorted.
"What am I, five? I promise I won't tell anyone," she ushered back. She then faced Ginny and remarked quietly, "This is so exciting! Congratulations!"She ignored Harry's heavy sigh and the rolling of his eyes.
"Thanks," Ginny smiled.
"So when and where and how?"
"Well, Harry and I have been writing letters back and forth to each other ever since I went back to Hogwarts. Remember I told you that I didn't get back together with him when he asked me before?" Hermione nodded as she recalled Harry tried to get back together with Ginny the night before she returned to the ancient school of magic, yet she turned him down. "He stopped by Hogsmeade several times during our weekend visits and we spent time together there. One thing led to another, more letters were exchanged and more visits to Hogsmeade were made, then he proposed two days ago."
"Did he give you a ring?"
"It's upstairs under my pillow. I'll show you after we finish down here," she told Hermione excitedly, her eyes lighting up like a candle would a dark room.
"Have you set up a date yet or is it too early?"
"Not yet but it definitely has to be after I finish Hogwarts. I was thinking a summer wedding around his birthday would be nice, kind of like Bill and Fleur's."
"Any ideas on when you are going to tell your mum?"
"Oh, that won't be for a while yet," Ginny regaled. "Knowing her, she would start planning the flower arrangements tomorrow. I'm actually trying to pair it with Ron's confession that he dropped out of Auror training."
At this, Hermione huffed and said, "Honestly, I can't believe he hasn't said anything yet! Your mother's reaction will get worse the longer he waits."
"Oh, good, then my news won't seem so infuriating!"
Hermione smirked as she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "Ginny, I wouldn't call your news to marrying Harry 'infuriating,' especially not to your mum. She thinks of him as a second son."
"Even so, she'll probably still give me a lecture on how I'm too young to wed and all this other rubbish. She likes Harry a lot but I know she would prefer that we waited until we were a bit older, which would be rich coming from her seeing that she married dad right out of school. Anyway, enough about me! How's Charlie settling into his new position?"
"He likes it," Hermione answered, "he likes it a lot. Being the director of the Wales Dragon Reserve gives him more flexibility with his time. Sometimes he'll spend half of the day with me while other times he spend the entire day with me. I like it like that."
"And how's your book coming along?"
"That's going well, too. I like the freedom of being able to write wherever I want; I can do so at home, or write in a Muggle park, and I have recently enjoyed stopping by the dragon reserve and taking down some notes there."
"That sounds so…so liberating," Ginny sighed dreamily.
"It is but it takes a lot of patience, especially when it comes to authoring a textbook. I mean, I can't just jot down small notes on wand movement, I have to carefully explain the theory and methodology behind it. I also have to cater to different ages which is an entire matter all unto itself."
Ginny shrugged. "You're Hermione…I'm sure you'll figure through a way to do it."
"Yeah it just takes some time," she agreed.
Some minutes later, after dessert had been depleted, many family members retired to the living area, though Ginny and Hermione retreated up the steps and into her room. Shutting the door behind them, the youngest Weasley rushed over to her bed, dragging Hermione along in her wake, before they both sat upon her mattress. Ginny then reached behind one of her pillows and pulled out a small, squared box, coated in crimson red that was smooth to the touch.
She then popped open the top for Hermione to see and when she did so, she gasped, her eyes growing wide, while her hands covered her oval-shaped mouth.
"Ginny…it's beautiful," she said after a full minute of staring down at the ring. The band was woven in fine silver while a round-cornered square adorned its top, made of glittering diamonds and sparkling stones that cast a dazzling rainbow display over any solid object it was pointed at.
"This must've cost a fortune," Hermione commented.
"I know," Ginny replied, sounded a tad down-spirited. "I told him it was too much but he insisted that I take it. I couldn't say 'no' because it's so beautiful and I love him very much. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with him."
Hermione grinned at Ginny growing emotional, a feat she never fell victim to before, as they shared a hug.
"I'm happy for you two," Hermione said in her ear, "you two make a beautiful couple."
"Thanks," Ginny replied as they pulled away. "You and Charlie aren't so bad yourself, even if he is my brother." After Ginny tucked her engagement box away, it being protected by one of her pillows, she commented, "You know, I'm a little surprised Charlie hasn't popped you the question yet."
"Well, we haven't really known each other all that well; we only started since the summer. You and Harry, on the other hand, you've been around each other since you guys were kids."
"Yes but you and Charlie dated longer than Harry and I had," Ginny countered. "We were in a relationship for only a couple of months at the end of my fifth year."
"That's official dating, but you two knew of each other's feelings and reciprocated for over a year afterwards. It's been a while with you two," Hermione finished.
"While that's true-," Ginny started yet stopped for suddenly, a raw scratching noise was heard by the two girls. It sounded rather familiar to Hermione, while Ginny looked around in a perplexed manner.
"Where on earth is that ruddy sound coming from," Ginny asked, standing to her feet and roaming over towards her closet, peeking in its halfway open door.
She, however, was looking in the wrong place, for Hermione's eyes fell upon a piece of parchment that was charmed into the shape of a dragon, as it tried with all of its might to squeeze under the small space between the bottom of the room door and the floor.
"It's from Charlie," Hermione smiled, as she hurried over to the parchment dragon, making Ginny spin around.
"Charlie," his sister repeated, sounding confused, as Hermione helped the animated sheet of parchment fully enter inside. Once it did so, it zoomed upwards, circled around Hermione's head, as she heard Ginny gasp in surprise, before it settled upon her right shoulder, gently nuzzling against her cheek.
"What is that," Ginny inquired, pointing a finger.
"One of Charlie's creations, a parchment dragon," Hermione responded lightly. She then took the charmed animation in her hands, unfolded it and read, 'Meet me in Amata.'
She smiled at his simple note, his words holding a trace of mystery that was riddled against this cold winter's night.
"Is Charlie trying to steal you away from me," came the sound of Ginny's voice.
Hermione looked over at her and nodded in silence.
"Well don't let me keep you," she told her, "I should go find Harry."
"And do what," questioned Hermione, pulling on a warm jacket.
"I'm just going to give him a memorable Christmas Eve," she said simply, "nothing more and nothing less."
The pair laughed together as they exited the room, making their way down the stairs. As Hermione passed by the living area, she saw two couples, one comprising of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the other of Bill and Fleur, as they danced away to the soft, crooning sounds of Celestina Warbeck, her voice sounding like it was its own choir of angels. The fire in the grate was dying slowly, though the large Christmas tree in the corner of the room provided all the light they needed, the two dancing pairs being mindful of skirting around the large pile of presents that had already found its way under it already.
Ginny stopped in the kitchen, seeing Harry and Ron pouring over Which Broomstick?, staking out new advertised models.
Hermione waved to Ginny who returned it as the former then stepped outside into the frosty, night air. When she did so, she realized that it had started to snow lightly, which Hermione rendered a bit odd for this time of year.
She then hugged herself, feeling the cold bite away at her skin (as she left her face uncovered) as the lights protruding from the towering Burrow behind her acting like a beacon, a guide of sorts, showing her the way to a darkened Amata nestled some yards away.
Hermione continued to walk over, her shoes squishing over the slippery grass in which small flecks of white had begun to collect within.
The door of the Burrow opened and then closed, as Hermione spotted two shadowy figures taking off towards the family shed, hand-in-hand, she having no doubt that the silhouettes belonged to Ginny and Harry. She rolled her eyes as the couple made their way inside it, giggling like school-children out to prank their teacher, and slamming its door shut to the outside world, casting the grounds into a deathly quiet, save for Hermione's quiet breaths.
She was nervous and rightfully so for she was harboring a secret, a hidden key that she locked away deep inside of her. No one knew of it, not even Charlie, though she planned on telling him in Amata, for this was a mystery she couldn't keep covered for very long, nor would it be fair for the people involved. She had masked this private information quite well at dinner, as Ginny's announcement of Harry's proposal made her momentarily forget what she was closeting. Now, however, after keeping this to herself for the better part of the past month, she decided it was long enough.
Hermione then entered between the two thick trees that acted as an improvised gateway to her and Charlie's private hideaway. She looked around in the dark, seeing the shapes of the surrounding trees that spoke of the perimeter, the continuing snow fall resembling small sugar flakes, drifting lazily downward in soft spirals, though the heavy coverage overhead of entwining branches blocked out the snow from penetrating inside Amata.
"Charlie," she called out quietly, her voice reverberating quietly around, bouncing off of the thick bark of neighboring trees.
"Close your eyes, Hermione," his voice suddenly said from the shadows, "and don't open them until I tell you."
"Charlie, what is this all about?"
"Trust me, Hermione…just close your eyes," he repeated.
She did as she was instructed, shutting her eyelids to the world, her vision nothing but total blackness. A second later, though, bubbles of light popped into existence, making Hermione wonder what on earth Charlie was doing. The cold air swirled around her still, as she sensed Charlie step up behind her, and wrap her in his warm embrace, hugging her against his chest.
"Okay, open them," he whispered down into her ear.
She did and then gasped: the trees making up Amata were all cast in a dazzling display of multi-colored Christmas lights, blinking merrily about. Dozens of different strands wound themselves in between branches and decorated a flurry of leaves, reflecting off of the waters of the small pond below, its stillness bearing similarities to a thin layer of glass. Hermione thought that their secluded getaway looked magical.
"It's beautiful," she opted to say instead, turning to look over her shoulder.
She saw that he was smiling at her reaction, as they shared a sweet kiss on the lips.
He then led her by the hand atop of the slab of rock they both sat countless times, as Hermione noted there were two steaming mugs placed there already.
"Is this a date of sorts," she questioned, motioning towards the soft stream billowing up from the cups.
He shrugged. "Take it however you would like, but for me, it's spending some quality time with the woman I love with a little bit hot cocoa."
"Smooth," she jested.
"I try to be."
They then took their seats with the mugs in their hands, leaning against each other, Charlie wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders. Hermione took the time to look over at him, downing a sip of the sweetened beverage, and saw that his cheeks were flushed with a rosy red, while his blue eyes sparkled with contentment; his mouth was formed into a warm smile, while his short, red hair was combed off to one side; she also could just spot the beginning of his freckles along his neck, before the rest were scattered somewhere underneath his navy blue sweatshirt.
"How are you, Hermione," he abruptly asked.
Puzzlement coursed through her before she said back with hesitancy, "Um, what do you mean?"
He fixed his eyes on her and clarified, "I mean, how are you holding up? You haven't spoken much about what happened back in Australia."
She let out a sigh before answering with, "What's done is done. There are times that I regret what I did but then there are other moments where I feel like I made the right choice."
"You know I had a dream about him the other night; your dad, I mean."
"You did?"
He nodded. "It was…strange, really, he blamed me for taking you away from him. It was quite unnerving."
"You know that's not true."
"I know, it just seemed so real."
"My dad used to tell me that danger is more real in the dark, only because we can't readily prepare for it."
"Wise words to the even wiser," he commented softly, making Hermione scoff in good spirits. After another peaceful moment, where the couple sipped their cocoa, he supplied, "You know you mean a lot to me, don't you?"
"I do."
H nodded his head at her words, as if he needed her to make sure that she knew how much importance he carried within him of her.
As a comfortable silence then overtook them, Hermione mentally propagated, 'Tell him now, it has to come out sooner or later. But I would hate to ruin this special moment he took the time to set up.'
Hermione wrestled against her inner being and self-consciousness, wanting and needing to tell Charlie what she been keeping from him for a month, yet not wanting to disturb and corrupt his Christmas Eve.
After another moment's thought, she decided he had a right to know, more so than anybody else; she would take on whatever consequences that would surely be thrown her way afterwards.
"Charlie," she began, making him look over at her, his face once again masking that of someone who looked vastly younger than twenty-six, "there's something that I've been meaning to tell you."
He briefly looked surprised but then turned towards her, giving her his full and undivided attention.
She looked over at him, gulped, and remarked, "You're going to be mad."
"What," he queried over with a small laugh and grabbing her free hand, "why would you think that?"
"Because I've been keeping something from you."
They two didn't break eye contact, though their breathing increased exponentially, Hermione so much so that she felt as if she was suffocating over freezing waters that began to pile over her head.
"I-I can't do this," she said then, pulling her hand out of his hold, setting down her mug, and walking off the slab of rock.
She heard the tiny clink of Charlie setting down his own cup upon the hard surface as he followed her, grabbed her hand, and gently spun her around towards him before she could escape Amata.
"Hermione, you're worrying me."
She blew out a breath and stated, "I'm worrying myself."
"Why can't you just tell me?"
"Because I'm afraid," she relented. "Everything was so perfect until now, that I'm afraid I messed everything up."
Charlie looked down into her eyes, blue mixed with brown, as he then pulled down and planted his lips over hers, capturing them. Their mouths moved against each other's with a hungry need, he pinning her against one tree, as he placed his hands against its trunk, effectively trapping her. She wound her arms over his wide shoulders, wanting to feel him against her, as he seemed to trying to erase her insecurities with his snog.
They pulled apart after a minute, and shared a breath with each other, Hermione's hands coming to rest on his hard chest.
He then placed his over hers and said a little breathlessly, "Nothing you can say will change how I feel about you. You know that, right?"
She nodded after a moment, her head still spinning from the kiss she just shared with him, totaling winding her.
"Don't be worried," he told her. "Don't be worried at all."
Hermione looked up at him and saw that his look was genuine. She gulped for a second time, drew in a cold breath and announced, "Charlie, I'm pregnant."
He stood stock still for a full minute, unblinking, as she thought for a harrowed beat that he stopped breathing while his mouth hung open.
"Charlie," she said, patting him gently, "Charlie?"
He closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again, and opened them, looking as if he just risen from the dead and was trying out how well his face functioned.
"Y-Y-You're, y-your'e sure," was the first thing he said, his tone akin to a family member asking for reassurance from another that a close relative of theirs had passed away.
Hermione nodded as alarm then flooded over his features, pulling away from her, taking several steps backward.
"This is all my fault," he stated, bringing a closed first against his forehead and banging it. "I can't believe how daft I was!" He shook his head from side to side and murmured, "This can't be happening…this cannot be happening."
"Charlie, stop," Hermione said, walking towards him. "This isn't your fault so don't you go and blame yourself."
"Hermione, how can you…how can I…we did…back there…and…I'm going to be a father?!" He rubbed his eyes with his palms as she heard him regale like a mantra, "I'm dreaming…this is all just a big dream, and I'll wake up…that's it, isn't it! All just one big dream!"
"Charlie, stop it," Hermione reiterated. "You're not dreaming. I'm pregnant and you're the father."
He looked her strangely, and then questioned in a whisper, "We're going to…we're going to have a baby? You're serious?"
She let out a breath as tears welled up in her eyes. "Yes."
Seeing her start to break down snapped Charlie out of his dream-like state, for he rushed over to her and wrapped her securely in his arms.
"Charlie, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried into his chest, her shoulder shaking against him.
"Hermione…Hermione please…please don't cry," he stammered, still feeling lost with her announcement, hugging her tighter to him.
"We, we were both s-silly," she wept, sniffling. "We didn't, you know, we didn't-,"
"Use any protection," he finished quietly.
Her answer was another sob, making Charlie place one hand on the back of her head, cradling it, while his other arm was wrapped around her back.
"Hermione, please," he voice begged, aching with hurt, "please don't blame yourself for this. I should've known better."
She sniffled again and pulled her head away from him to look up into his face.
"You…do you regret it?"
"No," he answered after a quick moment, seeming completely floored at her question, "no, I don't regret it at all, but I don't think we're ready to be parents, Hermione. You're only nineteen. I feel like a rabid animal, that I broke something that's so fragile."
"It was both of us, Charlie," Hermione said with a slight whimper. "I wanted it, but not this," she corrected, looking down at her stomach, "at least not this early. We're both to blame."
"I feel like I can't apologize enough," he reasoned. "I mean, can I be honest with you?"
She nodded.
"Before, I was planning out the rest of my life in my head, and you were there, and we had a family together, but that was sometime down the line; never did I even think about this coming so soon. I wanted to do so much with you, Hermione, to travel to different places around the world, and enjoy my time with you, just the two us, not having to be weighed down by a child or being parents. Now I feel that that's all been taken from us."
Hermione saw that a look of sadness had crept over Charlie's face, momentarily aging him. He then sighed, letting his shoulders sag down, letting gravity take effect.
"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," Charlie let out.
Hermione wiped away at her eyes and replied with a hint of finality, "But it did. Now we have to accept that fact and move on."
"You're not mad?"
"No, not mad, I mean, I did know about this for a month already."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you would be mad. And I was scared of your reaction."
"What did you think I'd do?"
She shrugged. "That you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."
"You thought I would leave you?" At this, Charlie released Hermione from his hold and gave her a hurtful glance.
"Not totally," she went on, looking to be on the verge of another round of tears, "but it did cross my mind."
"Hermione, how could you think that? How could you possibly think that?"
"I don't know, Charlie. I was just so shocked and so confused about what to do," she answered, folding her arms over her chest as the cold air persisted, "I didn't have anyone to turn to and ask for advice. So many different voices were going on in my head that it made me unsure of myself."
After a moment, Charlie grabbed both of Hermione's hands in his own and stated with clarity, "Hermione, listen to me: I would never leave you willingly, I couldn't. You know how I feel about you, I love you, with all of my heart. Nothing will ever change that, not even this unexpected life change," nodding towards her stomach. "I especially could never leave you now, considering that this baby is half mine."
Hermione looked down, shame overtaking her.
"Please, don't ever think that," he finished, gifting her with a soft, yet meaningful kiss. They both closed their eyes, feeling the need and desire they continued to share for one another, not letting anything or anybody erect defenses against the other.
They slowly pulled part, before Charlie stole another quick kiss on her lips. He wiped away her escaped tears with his thumbs as they shared another hug, holding onto one another. Hermione shut her eyes, feeling safe in Charlie's arms as they rocked slightly from side to side.
"So what do we do now," Hermione asked.
"We carry on like nothing's changed," he offered.
She pulled away from him. "Charlie, I don't want to keep this from your family. That wouldn't be right."
"Hermione, I think my family might start flinging hexes and curses at us if we told them the news, especially mum. I told you before that she's old-school when it comes to marriage and having children."
"Still, I've been telling Ron off for not letting your mum know that he quit Auror training. I would be a hypocrite if I did the same."
Charlie looked troubled as he rubbed the back of his head and questioned precariously, "You want to tell my family tonight?"
Hermione thought about this and then said, "No, not tonight, but tomorrow. I wouldn't want to ruin Christmas Eve for everyone."
"But you're willing to ruin Christmas Day," he posed, elegantly quirking up a brow.
The corners of her mouth ticked upward, sensing Charlie's tease and explained, "It just doesn't feel right tonight. I can't explain it but tomorrow, tomorrow's better."
"Okay, we'll tell everyone tomorrow then," he agreed. He paused and then said, "I can't believe I'm going to be a dad."
"You sound excited."
"Well I am," he confirmed. "I'm shocked too but that's wearing off a bit. It's just that I always wanted a family, I've been thinking about it for a while now, and trying to find the right bird to settle down with; now, it's coming true." A smile coated his face as he turned to her and said, "I'm glad I'm settling down with you, Hermione, I truly am. I'm always so happy when I'm with you. This moment right now ranks as the second-most defining moment of my life."
"Second? What comes before this one?"
"The night you and I talked for the first time, I mean really talked, back over the summer."
"That's your first? It was just a regular conversation and we were only distant friends then."
"True but if that night never happened, I don't think we would be standing here together right now."
"Did you know I was outside that night?"
"No," he answered honestly, "I didn't know at all. But I didn't mind in the slightest either. You didn't mind, did you?"
Hermione looked over up at and responded, "Maybe a little; I mean, I did go outside alone, didn't I, and didn't ask for anyone to accompany me?"
"You…you're not serious, are you?" Charlie looked as if he deflated a bit as a smirk raced over Hermione's face, which then turned into a small fit of laughter, something she couldn't help.
"I thought you would know me a little better by now, but no, I'm not serious. I told you before that I enjoyed our talk that night. I liked it a lot."
"You know, you really are a little minx," he remarked, though a certain amount of hilarity danced across his face, accompanied by the hundreds of lights strung around them.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"And you should because that's how it was meant."
"We could keep this up all night, going back and forth."
"I wouldn't mind," he stated simply.
"But I would."
"Is that my problem?"
"No, but it could be the baby's problem," she said, stopping Charlie dead in his tracks. "Wow, that was easier than I expected."
Charlie then jostled his head from left to right, crossing his arms over his own chest.
"You're waging an unfair tactic against me."
"Yes but it is an unfair tactic that we created together."
He paused and then commented, "I like the sound of that, actually: a baby we created together. It sounds so…I dunno, crazy, incredible, and fantastic all rolled into one?" He visibly shuddered. "It's like you and I are always going to be connected somehow with this baby. It makes me extremely happy."
"It sounds romantic to me," Hermione relayed, "but I like it too. Even though it wasn't planned, I'm happy I'm having your baby."
"No, not mine, ours, Hermione, our baby."
He smiled and then kissed her again, as they wrapped their arms around each other one more, the Christmas Lights of Amata twinkling brightly around them, while the two mugs of cocoa had turned cold, and long forgotten, as Hermione and Charlie did not return back to them for the rest of the night, Hermione only remembering them right before she fell soundly asleep in Charlie's arms some hours later.
Christmas Eve night ended with the Burrow cast in darkness, it nothing more than a towering structure that thundered up into the night sky, its tiled roof collecting the soft snow flurries that fell down upon it. It was hidden in the depths of a valley of shadows, cloud cover obscuring the moon and the stars that might have provided light over the home. The horizons that surrounded the Weasley residence were undefined though this went unnoticed for its occupants, for they were fast asleep, dreaming of the morning after, and love.
Charlie and Hermione were fast asleep in his childhood bed, Mrs. Weasley having insisted earlier that they spend the night, even though they now had a cottage to call their own, as they both were wearing large smiles, thinking of a life that would soon come, one they created together.
EPILOGUE
1 year later
The falling snow was building against the windowsill outside, the glassed pane frosting over due to the frigid chill that had blasted Devon into a harsh Christmas Eve night.
Charlie, however, wasn't paying it any attention, for he was leaning over the crib of his sleeping son, staring fondly down at him.
'He's perfect,' Charlie thought to himself, 'absolutely perfect in every imaginable way.'
He looked down at his son's fiery red hair (a trait he inherited from his father), that was cut rather short, and even though his eyes were closed, Charlie knew they housed the brown eyes of Hermione, beautiful irises that seemed to glow in the dark.
His gaze then fell upon the large 'P' that was plastered over his little chest, his mum having sewn the baby one her trademark Weasley sweaters, this one being a sapphire blue. She, of course, was surprised when he and Hermione announced that the latter was pregnant one year ago, even going so far as to giving them the cold shoulder for several months. However, once Phillip Weasley had been born, she was unable to stay away from her second grandchild, and first grandson, showering him with every gift Diagon Alley offered, and shooing Charlie and Hermione off on regular date nights (which always ended with the couple making love).
Charlie and Hermione had many restless slumbers however, Phillip letting it be known when he was hungry or needed to be changed. Charlie was always there first thing though, wanting to be able to comfort his firstborn, either feeding him a bottle of milk or changing his diaper.
Footsteps behind him signaled the arrival of Hermione, as she then came next to him, and copied his actions, watching little Phillip sleep the night away.
Charlie wrapped an arm over his fiancé's shoulders, pulling her close to his side, and kissing the top of her head.
"I can't stop looking at him," Charlie said to her quietly.
Hermione smirked. "He is precious."
"And so tiny," he added.
"He's definitely growing though," Hermione tacked on as well. "I mean, he's much bigger than when we first brought him home."
Charlie smiled and said after a moment, "I can't wait until he wakes up."
"Be careful what you wish for, Charlie, as I'm sure Phillip will hold you to that before the sun rises."
"I'll be here," he shrugged.
"Really?"
Charlie looked over at her with a brow quirked upward.
"You sound disappointed."
"That's because I am."
"And why is that, soon-to-be Mrs. Weasley?"
"I don't know but I was kind of hoping you and I could spend some quality time together in our own room. I thought you might want to open one of your presents early and I could open one of mine early."
"You're still a little minx, you know that," he regaled over, "but why not?"
"Hang on," Hermione stated, placing a hand on his chest as he turned away from the crib, "I don't you to do this like it's some chore."
He scoffed, "Trust me, Hermione, you are the only chore that I love to do."
With that, he grabbed her hand and led her out of Phillip's room, down the hall into their own quarters, where he shut the door halfway, and pressed his lips over hers greedily.
The pair then proceeded to pleasure one another with acts they had never tried before then. When Charlie came inside of her almost an hour later, he had never felt more satisfied in his entire life, as he decided to continually kiss Hermione and ravage her body until he could no more.
In turn, she kept pace with him, which only increased his drive of lust to make her feel like she was most prized jewel he had ever laid eyes on.
Some time later, however, mere hours before the sun rose in the east, did they finally fall asleep, Phillip giving no indication that he was hungry or needed to be changed, for which Charlie was grateful, as he spooned Hermione, acting as an added blanket to her naked body, holding her against him and wanting to never let go.
