AN: Not even going to bother making excuses, because I know, trust me I know, that I am beyond late on updating. All I can really do is apologize and hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

Dedication: To Bridgy and Lydia! Happy Birthday guys! But even more importantly, to brb babe/, thank you so much for the reviews. I was having one of the worst days of my life, and you can imagine my surprise when I pulled out my iPod and it said I had 43 unread emails. While it was tedious to go through every one of those emails, it brightened my day considerably, and I figure I should answer your questions now. I especially love the reviews that were simply a repeated word, and the fact that you boosted my reviews to 100. :-) Thanks so much, and I'm glad I could be a distraction for you! Oh, and my cat hates me too, so don't worry, you're not alone!

So, to respond to a few of your reviews brb babe...

No, I have not seen The Vow yet, but I plan on seeing it, especially because Channing Tatum is kind of attractive.

You picked m absolutely favorite Dumbledore quote of all time by the way.

When I think about it, I don't know any Ruths, but it's probably not the worst. There's always Dorcas.

I would absolutely love some cheesecake, but as part of Lent, I've given up all desserts... :-(

I hope getting me to 100 reviews isn't the last thing you do either! Although, I would be eternally grateful!

! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrosicous! If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious, !

Your idea sounds pretty awesome actually! Let me know when you put it up, I'll definitely read it!

Sorry you wasted your whole Wednesday!

Drink all the Apple Juice! After all, I'm only fifteen!

Now... On with the show!

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.


Amy had expected, or rather hoped, that her Christmas would be spent alone with Charlie, most likely acting as lazy as possible while sneaking a few (okay, maybe more than a few) kisses here and there. She did not expect to find herself accompanying the entire Weasley family, excluding Percy of course, who was still being a giant idiot, to St. Mungo's as their guard along with Lupin and Mad-Eye. It had come as a surprise to both her, and Charlie for that matter, when she received a letter from Molly on Christmas Eve asking if she would act as part of the guard for Harry.

Of course, Amy and Charlie both figured that this was a ploy for Molly to get the two of them together, but they were happened to already be a step ahead of Mother Weasley. This also meant that they would have to try to stop with the couple routine for a while; at least they would need to if they wanted to keep their relationship a secret, especially from Molly. Amy made sure to tell Charlie this.

"I guess you're right," he sighed. Amy raised an eyebrow from where she stood in front of him.

"Of course I'm right," she replied smugly, crossing her arms. Charlie raised an eyebrow of his own, that mischievous Weasley sparkle entering his eyes. He leaned towards her teasingly.

"So, I guess that means no hand holding?" he asked slowly, entwining his fingers with hers, purposefully rubbing the skin on the back of her hand softly, as he pulled her closer to him and the couch. Amy shivered slightly but allowed herself to be pulled towards the wizard.

"Nope," she answered calmly. "No hand holding." A smirk began to grow on Charlie's face.

"No intensely staring into each other's eyes?" He tugged on her hand and into his lap, his arms winding around her waist. Blue met hazel, sparks flying between the two, and Charlie's smirk grew larger as Amy's lips began to show the beginning of a smile.

"None of that," she ordered, her smile spread completely across her face. Charlie leaned forward even further, so that his lips just barely touched the shell of her ear.

"No secrets, whispered into the other's ears?" he murmured, his breath tickling the hairs that rested on the nape of her neck. Amy closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.

"Nuh-uh."

Charlie pulled away, although not too far, keeping his face inches from Amy's. "And what about kissing? Am I not allowed to kiss my dear witch?"

Amy scrunched her face up in thought, an action that Charlie considered too adorable for her own good. "Well," she began softly; "I don't know about that…" she trailed off, smiling as Charlie pressed his lips gently against hers.

…..

Charlie left early the next day so that he could spend Christmas morning with his family, leaving Amy behind with a kiss goodbye and a reminder to be at Grimmuald Place for lunch. He had tried to actually get her out of bed, but, despite it being very early, she was surprisingly strong and refused to let go of the blanket that was protecting her from the chilly apartment. Finally, Charlie gave up, releasing the blanket that he had been trying to pull off the witch. Amy in response simply groaned and rolled over, allowing herself to fall back to sleep. Charlie paused for a moment at the doorway, looking fondly back at the witch who was snuggled up against his pillows, breathing deeply, before turning on the spot and vanishing.

Amy finally dragged herself out of bed a few hours later, after having to tell herself several times that is would not be a good idea to show up at a hospital with bed-head and in pajamas. Especially when the shirt she was wearing was that of a man that no one was supposed to know she was dating. Amy sighed, looking at herself in the mirror, admiring how Charlie's shirt simply looked like it belong on her, before taking it off, jumping into the shower.

Soon enough, Amy was pulling on a coat, one of her own this time (She didn't want to take the chance of Molly recognizing one of Charlie's; things could get messy very quickly), and Apparating out of his apartment. Amy landed, rather gracefully actually, across the street from Number Twelve Grimmuald place, and needless to say, it had changed much in the past couple of months. The building was still just as dirty and grimy as it had been in the summer, the brightness of the snow making the house seem even grungier than it was.

Amy eyeballed the building as she crossed the street, glancing both ways as she jogged up the steps, making sure to skip over the icy steps. She really didn't want to deal with the embarrassment that came with falling down steps, especially on Christmas. Amy raised her hand to knock on the door, before realizing that everyone would probably be in the kitchen and thus unable to hear her. So, seeing as she didn't want to be some weirdo standing on the stoop of building that didn't even exist to most people, Amy grasped the doorknob, glancing behind her at the empty street, before opening the door and stepping inside the warm building.

She hurriedly shut the door, although very quietly, preventing the wind from blowing in any snow. It wouldn't do her any good to track snow through the house, although Amy doubted that Sirius would be very concerned about it. She knew just how much he hated this house and just how much he wished it could be burned to the ground.

Quietly, Amy slunk down the hall, making sure to be extraordinarily quiet as she passed the screaming portrait of Mrs. Black; Amy didn't want to ruin Christmas by setting that nasty old hag off. As she approached the kitchen, where Amy knew the household would be, she began to unbutton her coat. Even from the hallway, she could tell that the kitchen was going to be very warm, especially seeing as Molly had probably been cooking all morning.

The kitchen was filled to the bursting point with Weasleys, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, food, presents, miscellaneous decorations, and a few odd members of the Order. She stood in the door way for a moment taking in the cozy scene before her: everyone was settled around the table, sans Molly who was at the oven, a very motherly feeling just flowing from her, while the others laughed and smiled. It was probably the first time Amy had ever seen Sirius smile, each joke or tease taking years off of him. It suited him, laughing, it really did.

"-might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died," Sirius was saying cheerfully. "But I mustn't get my hopes up…" The Twins and Ron laughed while Hermione looked on disapprovingly. Amy took this as her chance to announce her arrival.

"I do hope you're not talking about me, Sirius," Amy began, stepping into the kitchen. "I would be completely heartbroken if you were." Sirius turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow as he answered her.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he winked jokingly before letting out a hearty laugh. Amy smiled brightly at the man before being pulled into a fairly large hug from Molly.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, dearie!" Molly exclaimed, holding Amy tightly. She pulled away, keeping a grip on the younger witch's shoulders. "Although, I must say, you are much too skinny, but that school has always had problems keeping its students and faculty nice and healthy." The current Hogwarts students snickered, pleased to see that Mother Weasley had decided to focus on someone else's eating habits, rather than their own. Amy rolled her own eyes (once she was sure Molly wasn't looking at her, of course), catching Charlie's eye just for a moment, before the two casually turned away from each other. "We'll need to fatten you up, won't we?"

Before Amy could throw in a word of her own, Molly ushered her to the table, forcing her into a seat, of course, in between Charlie and Remus, who didn't look too upset about having their conversation interrupted (well, Charlie didn't at least), before hurrying back to the stove where lunch was waiting. With a wave of her wand, Molly had the plates and platters flying towards the table, landing with a thud, where they continued to steam and ooze deliciousness.

The table waited in anticipation for Molly to take her seat before digging in to their Christmas lunch. There were probably twenty different conversations going on at once, and Amy found herself content just to sit there and listen to everything around her. Her family's Christmas was nothing like this, maybe when she was younger, just a child, it may have been like this, but now it was rare to have this much noise on Christmas Day. It was usually just the tedious crooning of some cliché holiday songs combined with Rose's complaining, Rich's teasing, Eric's peacekeeping, and her parents' slurred speech as they drank more and more champagne, followed by all of them taking naps, leaving Amy to ponder her family's weirdness in silence as she read one of her many Christmas gifts, because it seemed like all people were capable of giving her anymore were books. Not that Amy was complaining of course! Books just gave her a reason to be anti-social and not get criticized, at least, not by her family. Her friends still thought she was dorky to the point of exploding.

The Weasley Christmas was the exact opposite. There was never a moment of silence; someone always had something to say, whether it was on Quidditch, homework, or for someone to pass the potatoes. Although the noise was a new to her, all of the commotion just seemed right, especially coming from this family. Amy didn't think they would be the Weasley family if there wasn't something going on.

What was even more surprising to Amy though was the fact that she and Remus, and even Harry and Hermione, just seemed to fit in, no worries whatsoever. It had taken her sister's boyfriend years to be around her family without some sort of awkwardness, although he surely was beloved by the entire family now, mostly because he had put up with Rose for so long without running away screaming. It was like a miracle of sorts.

Amy jumped slightly as Charlie moved his free hand onto her leg, just above her knee, the heat from his hand seeping through her jeans into her skin. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, wondering just what on earth he was doing. They had gone over this several times: they had to try not act 'couplely' in any way, which included, but was not limited to, hand holding, staring intensely into the other's eyes, whispering in each other's ears, and kissing.

She would have simply shaken his hand off, but the warmth of his hand against her leg was slightly intoxicating, and plus, she considered, who would even see it? Her leg was under the table after all, so Amy let it slide, although she did pinch his hand gently, shooting him a look, an almost unnoticeable look, to which he simply smiled, picking at his food.

Soon enough, the entire gang was forcing themselves into the back of Mundungus's "borrowed" car to visit Mr. Weasley. Although Mrs. Weasley didn't really want to get into the car because of her obvious dislike for the grubby man, she still took it upon herself to make sure that Amy was squished between Charlie and the door. Neither Amy nor Charlie was complaining though, the secret couple quite content to be pressed against the other, even if it was for a short amount of the time. The two shared a brief look as they pulled up to shabby looking street.

As Amy stepped out of the car, followed by Charlie, who quickly stepped away from her, placing himself with his siblings, the witch looked up and down the street for any sign of the hospital. This was the first time she had ever been to St. Mungos, and thus, she had absolutely no idea where it was. When she was unable to locate it, she looked to Remus and Moody, who were ushering the others towards a red brick building, which looked as though it had been closed for ages.

Amy raised her eyebrow curiously before following after the group, jogging to avoid a car that was moving towards them. She eyed a puddle of slushy mud at the curb, trying to judge if she had enough room to jump across it, when a hand reached towards her. Amy looked up to see Charlie, a coy smirk across his face.

"What?" he asked, his mouth quirking slightly. "You never said anything about not being a gentleman. Or is that also against the rules?" Amy pursed her lips together to hide her bemused smile, taking his hand nonetheless.

"British people," she murmured as she passed him, shaking her head. "Always so freaking polite." Amy hurried her steps so that she could catch up to the rest of the group, who were standing before one of the empty store fronts. Amy stepped up behind Hermione, peering over the girl's hat and curly (curly, curly, curly) hair to look at the glass building. "Is there a reason we're standing outside an empty shop? Last minute Christmas shopping perhaps?"

Hermione shrugged. "I honestly have absolutely no idea," the younger witch admitted, shaking her head, her unruly curls shivering in the cold winter wind.

Amy let out a comically gasp. "You don't know? What has the world come to?" Hermione shot the professor a look at the same time that Remus stopped before the group, looking up into the impassive face of the mannequin that rested behind the glass before him before him.

"We're here to see Arthur Weasley," Remus said clearly, his breath fogging up the dirty glass that stood between him and the doll. A moment of awkward silence passed over the group, and Amy raised her eyebrow curiously, before her eyes widened in awe as the dummy nodded slightly, beckoning the group forward with the movement of one finger. She looked back over her shoulder at Charlie, who simply shrugged before urging the witch forward with the rest of the group who had already disappeared through the smudged glass.

"It's just magic," he whispered, leaning forward so that his mouth was near inches away from her ear. "Don't you love magic?" Amy shivered, although whether it was from the chilly winds or the feel of his warm breath on her neck, the witch wasn't exactly sure, although she suspected it had something to do with the latter.

On the other side, Amy was welcomed into the sterile warmth of the brightly lit hospital. From a glance it wasn't that much different than any other hospital Amy had seen growing up. Her parents were both still nurses, and thus, she had spent a fair amount of time hanging out in empty patient rooms studying and wasting as much time as she could on her off days. St. Mungos had the same over-clean smell that made Amy slightly nauseous as well as the horrendous color-scheme that every hospital seemed to have (they just couldn't figure out what colors went with what could they?). She had thought that possibly wizards would've been smart enough to know that pea-green did not go well with anything, but from what Amy could see from the walls of the waiting room, they hadn't. Accompanying the green walls were festive decorations of crystal orbs that changed colors periodically as well as holly sprigs that hung around the walls of the room.

Amy followed the group of redheads and their cohorts up a flight of stairs and down a series of halls before entering the Dai Llewellyn ward where the group found Arthur, sitting up in bed with a tray of picked at dinner, a rather timid look on his face. Amy sent Arthur a bright smile and gentle wave before stepping a little bit behind the group so as not to intrude on the holiday family time.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably for a moment or so, his hand running over his side briefly, almost as though in irritation, before coming to rest over his wife's. Amy narrowed her eyes slightly but knowing that the irritation would not go unnoticed by Molly. Sure enough, the giving of the presents from the rest of his family was stopped by Molly.

"Everything all right, Arthur?" Molly broke in anxiously, eyeing her husband's side with curiosity.

"Fine, fine," Arthur said happily, although his words sound forced, something that Molly, the ever-observant wife noticed immediately. Hoping to discourage his wife from asking any more questions, Arthur dove into his gifts with the vigor of a six year old, ribbons and paper flying as he tore through the wrappings of his first gift. Apparently, while in the hospital, Arthur had forgotten just how determined his wife was, because as he adamantly thanked Harry for his gift of muggle hardware tools, Molly inconspicuously looked at the gauze wrapped under Arthur's night shirt.

"Arthur," Molly began, her voice so sharp that it cut off any and all conversations in the room, "you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur?" Her voice was beginning to get higher and higher as Molly grew more and more frantically frazzled. "They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."

Arthur looked around in a panic, searching for any words that may save him from the wrath of his wife, who seemed to quickly be filling with steam. Arthur refused to make eye contact, as though afraid that she would kill him with a single glance.

"Well- now don't get upset Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea… He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap." Arthur looked up now as though searching for a life raft, his eyes falling upon Amy, and his eyes lit up for a brief minute. "You would like him, Amy. He's a fine, polite man, top of his class-"

"Arthur!" Molly warned her husband impatiently, as a flush rose up Amy's face. The Twins snickered at their teacher's reddening face, and Amy swore she could see a smirk on Charlie's face as Arthur continued with what he had been saying.

"Well, Augustus is very interested in... um… complementary medicine… I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies….well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on- on Muggle wounds-"

Molly let out an almost inhuman growl, sending Bill and the Twins basically running from the room on the context that they were going for tea, while the younger students took cautious steps backwards. Even Lupin made himself scarce by moving to the other side of the room to talk to one of the other patients. Amy spared a glance at Harry and Hermione, who was shaking their heads with disbelief. They obviously knew exactly where this was going and what it meant.

Amy had received stitches before at a very young age, two or three maybe, when she had fallen off her brother's bunk bed because of a weak railing. She had landed face first into the wooden safety rail and had been taken to the nearest hospital. She still had a scar, at the top of her forehead as proof, although it remained hidden under her bangs most of the time. She only had to have three stitches put in, which at the time probably had seemed like one hundred, but the scar itself was only about an inch and a half. The only difference with her story and Arthur's was that she had been wounded via a faulty railing and he a poisonous snake. Just minor differences, of course, nothing more.

"Do you mean to tell me, that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?" Molly demanded through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Not messing about, Molly, dear," Arthur replied, attempting to soothe his wife, which was almost likely placing a tin can in front of an oncoming tank in hope of protecting yourself. "It was just- just something Pye and I thought we'd try- only, most unfortunately- well, with these particular kinds of wounds- it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped-"

"Meaning?" Arthur and his visitors winced at the hissed words that had escaped from the usually kind witch.

"Well… well, I don't know whether you know what- what stitches are?" Arthur's visitors winced as they heard his voice tremble slightly as he began to panic as Molly laughed mirthlessly.

Amy and Charlie spared a glance towards each other before turning away hastily, not wanting to raise any suspicions, but no one's attention was on the two of them. Instead, the entire room seemed to be looking for a way to escape Molly's wrath.

"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together," she forced out through her teeth, trembling with rage. "But even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid-"

"Anyone care for a cup of tea?" Charlie broke in, standing up straight from his leaning position on the wall near his father's bed. He motioned with his head towards the door, and the Gryffindors shot to their feet, all but running to the ward door, with courses of "Love one!", "Sounds good!", and "You bet!" just as Molly exploded after Arthur's muttered response to her rather cruel comment.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

Amy didn't even spare a glance behind her as she too raced towards the doors of the ward on the pretense that she would watch over the others. As Amy escaped out into the hall, she shut the door behind her so as to incase the rage-filled screaming in the room. The witch eased away from the room in relief, kind of surprised that she had survived.

"Are you coming, professor?" a voice asked. Amy looked over her shoulder to see Harry and the others waiting for her. She spared one last look at the ward doors, pitying those stuck behind them, before nodding and falling into step behind the students.

As the kids led the way to the tea room, Charlie eased away from them until he was walking next to Amy, close enough that the witch could feel his heat through her sweater. The couple slowed their steps, allowing Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to walk ahead, putting some space between them.

As the teens conversed amongst themselves, Amy and Charlie distanced themselves, enabling them to speak semi-freely.

"Stitches," Charlie muttered shaking his head. "I don't know what Dad was thinking. I mean, I know he has this fascination with Muggles, but stitching his skin back together? That's extreme even for him."

Amy shot him a look. "But in the right situation, stitches actually work."

Charlie snorted. "Yeah, but this was quite obviously not the right situation. Dad just had to mess with stitches." Amy rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Just like you're mother," Amy murmured, although loud enough for Charlie to hear. The wizard gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

"I'm wounded," he declared mournfully, batting his eyelashes like a teenager in despair. Amy giggled, elbowing him in the side. He winced. "Abuse," he announced, pointing a finger at the witch. "Abuse! You abused me! I am a victim." He would've been taken seriously were it not for the large grin that was spread across his face. Amy raised her hands and looked up at the ceiling.

"Why?" she pondered aloud. "Why in the world do I find this wimp so attractive?"

"Hey!" Charlie protested. "I am not a-" Charlie broke off mid-sentence as he noticed that the group ahead of him had stopped in their tracks, obvious uneasiness etched onto their face. As the couple came closer to the teens, Amy spied a wizard, maybe seven or eight years older than herself, talking animatedly to the students. At first glance, he was blatantly attractive: bright blue eyes, broad, dazzling smile, California blonde hair, but when Amy looked again, she took in the vacant look in his eyes, the greasy texture of his waved hair, and the shockingly bright purple of his robe, which maybe preteen girl would've been able to pull off. Maybe. The two spared a brief glance, before coming to stand behind the students. From the looks of guilt that were spread across Ron and Harry's face and the embarrassed one on Hermione's, the group obviously knew this man, whoever he may be. Harry nervously began to speak.

"Should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?" Harry glanced anxiously at Ron, who merely shrugged while the man stared intently at Harry, a deep look of concentration, something that did not suit him at all, etched into his face.

He opened his mouth as though to speak but it took him a few tries before he was able to get his words out, as though he was trying to remember how to form the words that he wanted to say. "Haven't we met?" He asked finally.

The back of Ron's neck turned slightly red, as Harry rubbed his hands together nervously. "Er… yeah, we have," he answered, sparing a glance towards Hermione, whose face was bright red and who looked breathless. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?" Amy blinked her eyes several times and she tried to wrap her mind around what had just been said. 'He used to teach at Hogwarts?' She eyed his purple robes and boyish face. 'What exactly did he teach?'

Apparently, even he didn't know what subject he taught. "Teach?" the wizard asked, his bright teeth glinting despite the dimness of the hospital's halls. "Me? Did I?" Amy pursed her lips so as to prevent herself from speaking for she was afraid that if she did she might say something offensive.

Before anyone could speak up, or give an excuse to get away from the clearly lost man, something along the lines of having a Quidditch game they needed to get to or maybe that one of them was having a heart attack, the wizard shrugged his shoulders as his eyes grew bright in excitement and smugness. "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!" He looked up to wink at Amy, who raised her eyebrows. "Including your pretty little friend here." He stuck out his hand to Amy. "Hello, I'm-I'm," He trailed off, seemingly searching for his name, which Amy now realized he did not know.

The door behind him opened at the moment, revealing the face of a sweet, motherly looking Healer, who upon finding the group in the hall, placed her hands on her hips in an almost Mrs. Weasley way. "Gilderoy, you naught boy," the Healer reprimanded. "Where have you wandered off to?" Almost immediately, she noticed the group of people around her patient, and her eyes lit up.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise, Gilderoy?" The matron smiled warmly. "How lovely, and on Christmas Day too!" She turned to the group huddled around Gilderoy, all of who looked very uncomfortable. "Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie!"

"We're doing autographs!" Gilderoy proclaimed loudly as the motherly Healer led him back to the ward, the students following behind them with wary glances. Hermione, whose cheeks were still flushed a rather bright pink, looked back at Amy and Charlie, shrugging her shoulders before following after her friends.

As Charlie made to follow them, Amy grasped his wrist delicately, looking to make sure that they were alone in the hall, before turning him so as to draw him close to her.

"Who exactly is that wizard?" Amy asked demanded. "And how the hell do those four know him?" Charlie looked at Amy with confusion.

"Wait," he began slowly, his forehead wrinkling up as he took in what she had just said. "You don't know who Gilderoy Lockhart is?"

"Do you know who Steve Jobs is?" Amy shot back. Charlie shook his head slowly. "Exactly. Now shut up, and tell me who exactly that wizard is and why did we just let a bunch of underage students follow him?" Charlie sighed, shaking his head slightly before taking a deep breath.

"Gilderoy Lockhart is-" Charlie broke off, pondering his wording. "Or I guess was a bit of a celebrity in the Wizarding World. He wrote a whole series of novels about these 'encounters' he had with dark creatures and how he was able to 'defeat' them." Charlie snorted. "He was basically a household name up until a couple years ago, when Ron and the others were in their second year or so. Dumbledore was in desperate need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Lockhart was the only one 'brave' enough to apply for the job. In the end though, he not only turned out to be a huge coward, which isn't surprising seeing as he was a Ravenclaw-" Amy glared at Charlie, who hastily backtracked so as to save himself from her wrath. "-not that Ravenclaws aren't courageous, it's just that they're more known for how amazingly brilliant they are, and how they always have their nose in a book, and wait… no…that didn't come out right…"

He sputtered to a stop realizing that he was just digging himself a bigger grave. He shook his head so as to shake away all of his "bad" thoughts. "It doesn't matter what he was," he specified. "What matters is that when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secret by You-Know-Who, Lockhart, who had told everyone he had known all along where the Chamber was located, was the one who was supposed to go and rescue her. Instead though, he decided he was going to skip out as soon as possible and leave her to rot." Charlie broke off bitterly, a look of anger and frustration crossing his face. "Sniveling little rat," he uttered under his breath.

Amy squeezed his hand tightly, lacing her fingers through his in an attempt to placate the wizard. He nodded gratefully before taking a breath and continuing. "Anyway, what ended up happening was that Ron and Harry practically dragged Lockhart to the Chamber of Secrets with them to get Ginny back, and the barmpot turned on the two, taking Ron's wand. Apparently, he had been taking all of his adventures from other wizards before Obliviating them, and he was now going to do the same to them. The poor bloke, however, didn't realize that Ron's wand was cracked, so when he cursed them, the hex rebounded hitting him instead and bye-bye memory."

Charlie pressed his lips together, nodding to himself as he finished speaking. "The blighter had it coming to him," he stated simply, and Amy couldn't help but nod in agreement with him.

"I couldn't agree more, love," she attested, gripping his strong chin in her fingers and pulling him down to her lips. "Besides," Amy murmured pulling away slightly, "I don't want anyone but you hitting on me." Charlie smirked the infamous Weasley smirk.

"Well, you know," Charlie started playfully, "I'm pretty awesome with flirting. Basically a master." Amy bit her lip, looking up into his bright blue eyes through her bangs.

"Oh really?" Amy bantered, as his arms slipped around her waist. He looked over his shoulder to make sure there was no one behind them before nuzzling her neck.

"Really," he answered, nipping slightly at her jaw line. "In fact, I bet I can get you to agree to go on a date with me in the next three minutes." Amy raised an eyebrow.

"And how exactly do you expect to do that?" she shot back, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on his forearms. Charlie looked at her secretively.

"Well, while a magician never reveals his secrets," Charlie began, ignoring Amy as she snorted at the image of him dressed up as a magician at a Muggle children's party, "I can tell you it will involve a lot of flattery and compliments."

"What kind of flattery?" Amy mused, fluttering her eyelashes in a joking manner.

"Only the best for you," Charlie murmured, his voice laced with pure honesty. "Like the fact that you have the most adorable smile, and the fact that you fit in my arms oh-so perfectly. Or even more important is that I absolutely love the way you bite your lip as though you are timid and that these past few days have been the best of my life."

Amy blinked, allowing his words to sink in and for her heart to melt as though she was a teenager again. "Well, Mr. Weasley," Amy whispered softly, "I think you've got that date." The sound of voices coming towards them alerted the couple that the students were coming back, but Charlie could help but steal one last kiss from his witch.

"I told you I would," he muttered, his breath tickling her soft lips, before he kissed her, allowing himself to sink into the warm feel of her, knowing that they wouldn't be able to do this again until they were back in his apartment. Although he wished the kiss would go on and on, Charlie reluctantly pulled away from Amy, placing several feet between himself and the witch as the others rounded the corner.

He may have to wait a while before he could do that again, but at least he was the only person who could do that to his dear witch.


AN: Hope you guys liked it! If not review and tell me why! Review if you liked it too! And review if there's anything you guys really want to see in the upcoming chapters!

Thanks!

Signing off,

WiseGirl2772