"Merlin Hermione! Are you trying to make poison gas in here?" Charlie's voice cut through her counting as she stirred. It was only from the years of practice that she was able to maintain the rotation without a misstep.

"Sorry, I didn't even notice." Hermione withdrew the stirring stick on the count of fifty. Not three seconds later the blood replenishing potion dipped from a hot pink to a deep garnet. She smiled at the success and placed it's lid back on tightly. "You can air it out now! We're stable."

She heard Charlie swearing as he opened the tent flap and began directing the air out. Hermione turned to her other two cauldrons filled with finished pain potions and skele-gro. She drew her wand and began to dose the pain potion into vials. By the time the rest of the tent was visible again Charlie had joined her and began dosing the Skele-grow next to her. They worked in silence, filling the vials until they were all capped then set about labeling them in her usual manner.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after awhile. Unable to look at his tight scrawl any longer while guilt curled in her stomach. "I just didn't want you getting hurt on accident because you were trying to take care of me."

"Love that's-"

"I know. But Charlie," she responded, turning to look at his baleful blue eyes. They weren't filled with anger, or god forbid pity. But they did sparkle with hurt and just a hair of understanding. "We are in a stressful situation with no end date. At best if we mess this up we get thrown into the wilds of Romania to live out the rest of our days away from the world. At worse we accidentally end up ruining the future past the position of recovery. You deal with deadly, injured creatures all day. You don't need to deal with my problems because I can't handle them on my own."

"You are so foolish, Love," Charlie hummed as he pulled her against his chest. "Don't you understand you're just as hurt as those dragons out there? And you would never ask me to turn away from them would you?"

"Charlie it's not the same," she sighed.

"You're right." Charlie nodded sagely. "You are much more deadly."

She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips and tried to muffle it in his chest. She could just pick up the smell of earth and fresh air cleaning to his skin under the layer of soap from his shower. There was no small amount of envy that she smelled like toad oil and rat spleens.

"No silencing spell tonight okay, Love? If you wake me up then I am up. It's no trouble."

Hermione sighed and stood, drifting over the blood replenishing potion.

"Well you won't have to worry about that tonight. I have to watch this and stir it at 2:43 am so I won't be sleeping much at all."

"Blood replenishing?" Charlie asked hovering over the potion. It didn't surprise Hermione at all. The second she had started to make dragon specific potions Charlie could frequently be found in her lab, watching her work. Even if he still complained about the smell.

"Yes. I wasn't kidding when I said that the Infirmary was in a dreadful state. I'll be brewing for the next few days straight. I should actually start on the-"

"Dinner," Charlie responded, nudging her away from her work table. "You should start with dinner. The fire and organs will still be here when you get back Hermione."

"But I-"

"Plus you stink."

Hermione's mouth clamped shut as she glared at the grinning redhead.

"You are so rude."

"Don't tell mum," Charlie said. "She'd skin me alive."

"Well you do need a haircut," Hermione quipped, enjoying the afforded look on his face.

"Well, in spite of that cruel and, dare I say, rude comment, I will deliver these potions to the infirmary while you get cleaned up. Some of the other workers say the best time for privacy while showering is during dinner. Then I think we should put in appearance at the mess hall. I already skipped lunch and I am guessing by this mess that you have as well."

"You know nothing about me Charlie Weasley," Hermione chided.

"Nutrition potions don't count."

Hermione faltered and scowled before giving in. She gathered up the potions into a basket and floated them over to the smirking redhead.

"You know too much about me Charlie Weasley," she grumbled good-naturedly. He laughed and she felt the last of the guilt over her nightmares slip away.

She apparated to the bathhouse and was pleased to indeed find it empty while she quickly cleaned herself. She glanced longingly at the soaking tub but knew Charlie was waiting. She found him outside, waiting on that same stump but with no audience this time. He stood with a smile, staring at her hair.

"No fancy curls this time?" he asked.

"Sorry," Hermione responded. " This is the best I've got. Be glad there aren't slug guts in them."

Charlie grimaced the whole way to the dining hall. Still by the time they arrived most of the tables had finished and were in the process of clearing out. Charlie had led her to an empty table and they were both more than ready to consume the trays of food that appeared in front of them, in spite of its grey appearance.

They spared no time for conversation as they choked down the bland calories that would have made Molly cry. Charlie barely flinched when Sora set his tray down to his left. Hermione meanwhile frowned deeply at the younger wizards, not forgetting his earlier deception.

"Hello, Lovebirds."

"Hello, Sora," Hermione sniffed, pausing her meal. "If that is your real name."

"Must you be so dramatic," Sora scoffed.

"I think it's the potion fumes," Charlie responded with a chuckle. "Gets her all riled up."

"Charlie!" Hermione hissed, glaring at Sora. "We can't trust him. He lied to us."

"Did I?" Sora questioned, frowning at his… soup(?) before selecting a roll instead. "Or did you just assume I was some meek bookish clerk who couldn't think for himself?"

Hermione said nothing and chose to return to her meal.

"That's what I thought. Don't feel too bad though, everyone thinks that way and I want them to. It means they are less likely yo notice the manipulation."

"Such a good Slytherin, aren't you?" Hermione spat.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Sora smirked before turning to Charlie. "How did the Fireball turn out? Did he pull through the night?"

Hermione picked at her food, listening to the men wax eloquent about dragons. To his credit, while he may be a conniving and somewhat clever liar, Sora did truly seem to care about the dragons.

"Why aren't you working as a Handler instead of a clerk Sora?" Hermione asked. "You seem more knowledgeable than half the twits out there if those conditions were any judge."

Sora frowned deeply, glazing around them. The movement was far too reminiscent of her years at Hogwarts so Hermione threw up a practiced muffalito with ease. "Silencing spell."

"Ah, good," Sora responded. "I am a Clerk because Clerks can be assigned to the ranks as soon as they are of age. Dragon handlers require a NEWT in magical creatures and I did not want to wait that long."

"You didn't graduate?!" Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror.

"If I waited until then the war might be over and then where would I be," Sora scoffed. "Getting placed here was as easy as speaking English as well as my mother tongue. I just kept my mouth shut during placement interviews and listed here as my preference. Commander Higgs likes quiet people who get the job done. Besides, if I hadn't been a Clerk you two would have never made it into the camp and then what would have happened to the dragons?"

"What's all this about then?" Charlie responded cautiously.

While Sora filled him in on his little ploy, Hermione finished off her meal, glad to have already cleaned herself up. She was exhausted and if she escaped to the tent immediately she may be able to nap a bit before she had to stir her potion.

It was only a few moments later when Hermione caught Ake's gaze as she exited the hall. The witch nodded at her and smiled before flouncing out of the hall, no doubt to terrorize the Healers in the bath. She was so abrasive, if she were just nicer- then again if Hermione had been nicer...

Hermione thought back to the bathhouse when she first arrived. Even then the other women glared at her, and she hadn't even given them a reason yet. Ake had said that it was because they were specialists but…

"Sora," Hermione interrupted the conversation that had moved on to egg hatching. Sora had conjured some parchment and was scratching down every word Charlie said.

"What?"

"What's a Weather Witch?"

Charlie blinked for a moment then turned to the other man, clearly interested as well. Sora sighed, laying down his quill on the table, long since empty of their trays.

"You've been talking to Ebbenflow haven't you?"

"I ran into her in the bath last night. Is she… bad?"

"No," Sora said immediately then seemed to second guess himself. "Well… she's not… lady like."

"She most certainly is not that," Hermione agreed.

"You're one to talk." Charlie smirked when Hermione glared at him.

"But she's damn good at her job. She predicts the weather for attacks, letting us know what we will be working with and when to call it off. The summer storms around here get bad and she had probably saved more lives than she gets credit for…"

"But?" Charlie led.

"But she's also a terror when unleashed," Sora finished his eyes darting around the empty hall. "She doesn't get to go to the field much anymore. She was present for the aftermath of a slaughter of a local village and well...she summoned a blizzard in the middle of summer and dropped enough snow on the Axis troops that they froze to death. It took three days to thaw them out."

"Oh," Hermione said. That certainly explained why she was somewhat feared but not why she was so un-liked.

"That's amazing!" Charlie said. "I had no idea magic could even do that."

"She doesn't use a wand," Hermione said, glancing at Sora for confirmation.

"No she doesn't. She… she's from some place in America. Her people and their magic are very old. They predate wands and it...it scares people."

"She seems perfectly…" Hermione struggled for a word. "Tolerable. Not friendly, but the healers all glare at her and I don't understand why. They glare at me too."

"Don't listen to the healers," Sora responded with an eye roll. "They hate every woman who's not wearing those pale green robes. Damn vipers chased off our last cook with their cattiness. She and her husband were like the two of you and when it got too much they got up and left sticking us with whatever we ate tonight. I'm not sure it counts as food to be honest," she scowled. "But at least you two don't get half as graphic as those two did. Merlin, that forty year old woman did not need to be my exposure to the finer points of the female body."

Charlie took that moment to wink at her before laughing uproariously. She scowled and kicked him under the table which just broke up the laughter with swears until even Sora was laughing along with them.

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When Hermione and Charlie returned to their tent they were feeling full and exhausted. Charlie had spent the entire day stabilizing the last of the dragons and was starting to work on expanding their enclosures next to her.

"And here I think if we use the 'Ro' sigil-"

"Don't use 'Ro', Hermione corrected with a yawn. She leaned forward from the couch taking his quill to scratch out his symbol. "Use Gamma, otherwise you'll lock the Handlers out too."

"I have no idea how I would survive without you Hermione." Charlie graced her with a wide smile as she yawned again. "Tired?"

"More than."

"Well come here then." Charlie pulled her shoulder and she was too tired to fight it by the time she landed gently in his lap.

"Charlie. My potion," she whined. "I need to set an alarm."

"I've got it, I've got it." Charlie cast a spell to alert them at the right time, even as her eyes started to drift shut. "Get some sleep, Love. I'll wake you when it's time."

"Just a-" Hermione paused to yawn. "Quick nap."

She burrowed tightly into his thigh, the hard muscle relaxed enough to make a decently comfortable but firm pillow. Charlie hummed, placing his hand on her shoulder while continuing to scratch on the parchment floating in front of him. She could just glimpse the way his lips quirked up before her eyes drifted shut.

"Sure thing Hermione."

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She was warm. The bed was too hard and seemed to move but it was comfortable. Except for that damn bell.

Her bed shifted and she groaned as she felt herself lifted. Had she fallen asleep in the lab again? Charlie always hated when she did that. It was only fair because she hated how he always would carry her upstairs.

She grumbled as she was placed back on a scratchy couch.

"Shhh, it's fine Love. I've got it. Go back to sleep."

She mumbled a noise of assent intending to do just that. Just to be sure she cracked one eye open only to be greeted by the sight of Charlie slowly stirring her cauldron. His strong arms moved in a measured grace as he stared at the surface of the potion watching for the viscosity change. He had helped her make this hundreds of times before so she was less than worried. Instead she watched him, admiring the sharp cut of his jaw and the way the firelight flickered off his long hair until it looked just as much a part of the flames as not. His shoulders were broad and strong, and when he pulled up an arm to yawn she could just make out the shadow of muscle on his stomach before his shirt fell back.

Hermione shut her eyes, grateful to return to the slumber of the dead. In her sleep-addled state, she hoped he would come back. The nightmares stayed away and he felt so very nice against her cheek.

Yes, Charlie Weasley was an attractive man. But she'd never tell him that. He already had a big enough ego as it was.