Hermione woke with a crick in her neck and an incredibly warm body next to hers. She rose to familiar earth tinted eyes blinking down at her with a smug expression on his face.

"Did I chase away the nightmares, Honey?"

"Oh screw you," Hermione grumbled, spotting the cauldron. She shot up mid panic at the idea of ruining that whole batch when Charlie's arm hooked around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. She fell with an 'oof', scrambling weakly against his arm.

"Charlie! My potion!"

"Calm down, I took care of it last night. Merlin knows I've seen you stir a damn pot enough times to be able to manage it," Charlie yawned, tucking his face back into her neck. "Now, be a dear and keep blocking out the light for me."

Hermione felt his lips pull into a smile against the skin of her neck. She shivered when his hand tightened on her lower back. Pulling her closer to him.

"Charlie."

"Yes, Sugar Plum."

"Call me something cute one more time and see what happens," Hermione snipped.

"We are supposed to be married. I figured we should sell it."

"And disgusting pet names are the way to go are they?" Hermione scoffed.

"Well, a love bite would work too."

Before she could react Charlie leaned forward to nip harshly at her neck.

"Ow!"

Hermione pushed against his chest firmly. Unfortunately, without his arms holding her up, the action sent her tumbling to the floor. Her hand shot to her neck as he laughed at her in that warming, booming laugh that she only ever associated with comfort and joy. She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face, or the weak blush peppering her cheeks. Even decades away from their own time, he still made anywhere feel like home.

When Ron and Harry started families right after the war Hermione had never felt so lonely. The boys bonded over their new lives filled with wives and nappies leaving her with nothing to contribute tot he conversation. It seemed like the two had so quickly become fathers that they forgot to be anything else. Rather than pretend she understood she threw herself into her work. She happily sacrificed the dinners filled with conversations of baby stories and wedding woes and slow sank into herself more and more.

It was only when Charlie reached out to her about a potion for a nesting mother that she felt that she that closeness again. It was only when she shipped off his potion (with a requested report on the results) that she felt driven to another person out side of her own head again. He of course sent back a highly detailed report that kept her busy until the legendary Dragon's Blood argument at Christmas.

After that night, under the guise of correcting a wrong, her letters to Charlie started to come more frequently and more familiarly. Requests about her research were the main topic, but every letter also started with an inquiry toward her. Her health, her cat, her hobbies, her current reading material. Every letter ended with an update on his own life or humorous stories about what the dragons did that day that always had her in stitches, laughing like a maniac in her lab.

Finally she was able to feel like she had someone that wanted to know how she was. Who didn't let her fall by the wayside (rightfully so) to their spouse or children. Eventually, her rift with the boys healed as their children aged to a point where they didn't need constant care and the men could be humans again. But she would never forget that, when she was alone, it was Charlie who wanted to talk about dragons, or house elves, or merfolk or any topic she wanted really.

He was the one who asked her about her work and nagged her through letters when she didn't get enough sleep and her handwriting started to get sloppy. He was the one she sent the patronus too when Crookshanks died and even being a continent away he was the first to step into her living room when she collapsed into tears.

As time wore on and everyone else paired off Hermione remained publicly single. It was something no one had expected and frequently confused the rest of the Weasley clan. But nonetheless, Hermione never felt the need for any other relationship past a physical one. No one else would understand the pull of her work, or the desire to create. She refused to ever be merely tolerated. If she was ever with anyone, it would be someone who stood by her side and pushed her forward, not someone who simply watched her work. Until the day that mystery man appeared, she was perfectly happy with her Romanian Dragon Master and his letters, that grew into visits, that grew into the most looked forward part of her year.

"That better not leave a mark," Hermione grumbled when his laughter finally died down.

"Better if it does," Charlie responded, wiggling his eyebrows. "Couldn't have all the boys in camp taking notice of what a fine witch you are. I'd never recover if they stole my lovely wife."

"You're going to make me regret that for the rest of my life aren't you."

"Of course." Charlie smiled.

Hermione stood with a groan, stretching out her back. She was sore, her hair was a mess and she was still in yesterday's clothes. But, she had slept, and that gave her the courage to stomp toward the old trunk containing clothes from that year.

"These should fit you," Hermione responded by tossing some of the boys clothes on the now empty couch. "I'll take them by the bath house to get washed today when I drop off the blood replenishing potion. They're no dragon leather but will at least give you something clean to sleep in."

"Are you implying that I'm dirty?" Charlie questioned as he started breakfast. "Because I can promise-"

"I know you have a dirty mind and mouth Charlie," Hermione responded with a smug grin. "Pick up new material. You're becoming predictable."

He continued to grumble as she slipped away to change. By the time she came back he was handing her breakfast and wolfing his down. The sun was just over the horizon and Charlie still had dragons to save.

"Later, Baby." He winked even as she scowled and disappeared out of the tent flap.

Hermione cracked her neck, heading over to the cauldron. She scowled at the empty space when she realized he had aliquoted and labeled the vials as well. Very soon her mouth curved into a smile as she set the next round of potions brewing. He may be an absolutely hopeless flirt but he was kind when it mattered.

Her mind was still on Charlie hours later when she stopped by the infirmary to drop off her stock. She was pleased to see empty beds when she walked in but was less than thrilled that the snippy healers were now all free to glare at her as she invaded their space.

With nothing else to fall back on Hermione reverted to her age old behavior of when someone looked down on her. She stuck her nose up into the air proudly and stomped to the potions closet.

When she opened the door she was surprised to find the closet (sparsely) stocked with last night's delivery in some semblance of order. Granted, she knew they needed them however Hermione was sure they would have just left a mess for her to shelve in the morning. Or at the very best, just set the basket on the floor and leave it there. Instead the potions were all placed on shelves, labeled for their different applications with single doses from her emergency supply standing in where future stocks still go. She charmed the blood replenishing potions to stack behind the other two available.

When she left the closet she stalked up to the blonde American from yesterday who was seemingly in charge. Hermione clearing her throat. The blonde sneered but ended her conversation, turning expectantly to Hermione. Hermione elected to take the high road.

"I noticed the potions stock room is very well organized."

"Yes," the blonde snapped. "We are capable of putting some vials away."

Apparently not high enough. Hermione took a deep breath before trying again.

"Is that where you would like potions deposited in the future?"

"That depends on if it's you or that handsome Dragon Master dropping them off." She smirked cruelly. "I heard his wife isn't doing it for him."

"Well that was uncalled for."

"I just call it like I see it." The blonde looked her up and down, her nose scrunching. "And boy, does everyone see it."

"What's your problem?" Hermione snapped. What was it with these women insisting on involving Charlie in everything? "I'm trying to help you."

"Help us? Ha! Let me guess, you see us as some simple little trollops only here to find a husband?"

"What?" Hermione questioned with sincere confusion. "No. I would never-"

"Don't bother back-tracking, we already know your type. We've got it handled."

"You don't though," Hermione hissed, knowing too much of human pride and where it leads. "You are under-trained and under-stocked. If you aren't careful someone can die and-"

"We have never let someone die and we don't need your help! " she shouted.

"You couldn't even heal a simple dragonfire burn," Hermione scoffed dismissively.

"How dare you assume that- Why you prissy little-"

The argument was interrupted by the crack of apparition and the sound of screaming. Hermione whipped around her wand out as she stared at the man leaning on his fellow and bleeding all over the white tile floors of the infirmary. He was pale and when the screamed morphed into a groan his head fell forward.

"Healer Hanson!" The non-injured soldier stumbled forward where the blonde, Hanson apparently, caught the two of them. Two more of the tittering healers were there in a second, guiding the injured part to a bed with a cold seriousness on their face. "We were on patrol and there was rockslide. I barely got us out before-"

"Hush," Healer Hanson snapped, running her wand over the patient. An array of complex colors appeared over the patient in one of the most complicated diagnostic charms Hermione had ever seen. Within seconds the colors were gone and the witch was barking orders.

"You skele-grow and blood replenishing potions. You get him in a bed. You hot water. You pain charm. You-" she snapped glaring at Hermione "why are you still here?"

"I need your list of potions," Hermione responded calmly, sliding her wand away as the groans faded. Clearly the man was at least not in danger of dying, but it still seemed uncouth to continue the argument in the presence of the injured.

Healer Hanson grumbled before summoning an envelope from her desk. It wizzed to Hermione so quickly it would have smacked her in the face if she hadn't caught it.

"Anything else, Mistress Weasley?"

The title dripped with venom and Hermione inhaled sharply.

"You don't have to call me that."

"Whatever."

Hermione sighed in defeat. There was no win to be had today.

"Save the bottles from potions you use. I can clean and reuse them. Just set them aside and I will pick them up when I drop off your next batch."

"Fine. Get out of my infirmary."

With that Healer Hanson spun on heel and disappeared back into the fray, the injured man already looking better and ready to be coddled by the bored healers. Hermione waited until she was outside to open the envelope. She swore softly when she saw all the potions needed. She knew how to make them all, or at least could reference a book. But she was going to be terribly busy for the next few days.

It was days before she could slip away from her lab. Both her and Charlie had worked dawn to dusk getting things up to snuff. There was only time for a quick shower and dinner before they fell into bed. By the time she made it there she was too exhausted to dream. Still, she wasn't blind to the way Charlie stumbled over after he thought she was asleep to check for silencing charms on her bed. He was such a mother hen sometimes.

Hermione had spent her first free day helping him and Sora set up wards on the dragons, allowing them enough room to fly in a tight circle and sprawl out comfortably. It was all the Commander would allow. Charlie was confident he could wear Higgs down but it would take time and that just made him more irritable.

She had just expanded the last of the wards and could already see his involvement influencing the dragons. Their eyes were clearer, their scales shinier. Some even seemed to be taking a liking to Charlie, perking up when he visited, calming when he cooed at them. Honestly, it was really entirely expected at this point. The Welsh Green they had saved on arrival seemed to be particularly attached to him. The female tolerated him being in her pen without any restraint as long as he didn't try to touch her and brought food. Every other remotely human shape was met with fire and claws. It was clear that she was unaccustomed to Charlie's patient and gentle way of handling.

He had fired multiple workers for the way they treated the dragons, as if they were simply an annoying chore and nothing more. Charlie worked harder as a result but had found an unexpected assistant in Sora. While Hermione had been skittish of the apparently scheming Slytherin she was surprised to find she actually liked him quite a bit. He was kind and driven, with the burning love for dragons she had come to associate with only the best of Dragon Trainers.

Every time the Clerk was not attending a meeting with the Commander he could be found with Charlie down with the dragons, taking notes and getting hands on as Charlie needed him. No matter how burned or scratched up he got he walked out with a smile and a clap on the back. Hermione saw a lot of Charlie in him and she could guess that it was what he was like when he was a young Handler.

As it was, Charlie finally noticed her, waving her into the still rather tight quarantine pens. The sickest dragons were still confined to the small area, the lack of exercise actually ideal to prevent strain on their injuries. She joined him and Sora, staring at a large Opaleye who's massive tail was swishing back and forth on the other side of the pen as he glared at them.

"Well he seems lovely," Hermione remarked as the tail yet again slid across the dirt, warning them to stay away or get hit.

"He's in pain," Sora said sadly, his eyes softening as he stared. "We think it's his tooth."

"His tooth? Is that all?" Hermione questioned glancing at Charlie. Dragons frequently broke or cracked teeth but they tended to regrow so quickly that the damage wasn't worth fixing.

"I think it may be impacted," Charlie grunted, staring down the Opaleye calmly until the tail began to slow.

Hermione winced. Impacted fangs were no joke. They were rare but incredibly painful and would not resolve on their own. The new tooth was blocked by the broken one and would not break from the gumline without the one on top being pulled. If it were not removed it would eventually become too painful for the dragon to eat and it would die the slow death of starvation.

"Have you fed him yet today?" Hermione asked. They would have to knock the dragon out for Charlie to pull it and a male that big was unpredictable under sedation. They would have to slip it in his meal and hope that he ate it all.

"Unfortunately," Charlie sighed looking at Hermione pleadingly. "We are out of sleeping potion."

"Oh! I'll get started on more immediately," Hermione said, cataloging what she would need. She could find substitutions for what she was missing in the forest and with some clever supplementation she could-

"We don't have time Hermione," Charlie interrupted.

Hermione blinked at him slowly.

"Then what-"

"Charlie mentioned," Sora started. "That the two of you know a spell that can hypnotize adult dragons for a short time."

Hermione glanced between the two men who both looked terribly guilty. Then it hit her.

"Oh no. No. No. Charlie you are not pulling an impacted tooth with only me and a complete novice serving as you sedators. He's too unfamiliar with the spell. He doesn't know-"

"You're right," Sora said firmly. "Which is why I will be pulling the tooth."

"What?!" Hermione shouted after a moment, making the Opaleye hiss. All three of them made cooing noises until the creature calmed again and Hermione was leading both men away by the wrist. When they were a serviceable distance away she threw up a silencing spell and turned on the men.

"Are you insane?!" she whirled on Charlie, making the redhead flinch. She could count on one hand the times she had been this angry with him. "He's not qualified to-"

"Hermione, Love, relax. I taught him the spells. All he has to do is reach in and pull. The kid's a natural and-"

"Still a kid! He's young with his whole life ahead of him. You are just blinded by your love for dragons to concern yourself with the fact you are putting a child at risk."

"He's been helping me all week! I was his age when I went to the Reserve," Charlie defended.

"Under the watchful eye of countless Handlers and Trainers, not one Master and a novice. You had been sneaking magical creatures home since before I was born," Hermione snapped. "He is a Clerk. He isn't qualified. He is-"

"Right here and capable of making his own fucking decisions!" Sora shouted. Hermione paused, somewhat taken aback by the usually quiet boy.

"Sora-"

"No. I appreciate your concern, Mistress Weasley. Really, it's sweet." Sora's eyes softened a bit but he continued. "But I took this position to be close to these creatures. I snuck away from my family and joined a war so I wouldn't have to see these poor beasts exterminated and discarded if they got in the way. I made my choice before you even arrived."

He glared at her with great determination. Hermione paled as she saw a flash of Harry's face as he left during the Final battle before it was gone. In his place was just a young boy, trying to save some dragons. Hermione glanced from him to Charlie, who was no better. She may have been able to resist one, but crumbled in the face of both.

"Ohhhh Fine!" Hermione groaned, pinching her forehead. Why was it it no matter where she went she ended up with two stupid boys dead set on getting themselves killed?

She ignored the grins both men were giving her as Charlie broke down the plan. Soon she found herself standing outside the Opaleye's pen swinging her wand in time with Charlie as a subtle blue glow encased the dragon.

She sighed feeling the magic take much easier than it had the last few times she had done this. On the Reserve they had at least three but usually five Trainers working this spell in case one member failed. She had to be in perfect sync with Charlie or else the Dragon's trance would snap.

Sora breached the wards cautiously his wand raised. Hermione held her breath, focusing on the careful rhythm Charlie was beating out against his thigh. The dragon didn't so much as flinch, instead staring forward with unseeing eyes as Sora crept to its head. The Opaleye's iridescent scales glimmered in the blue light as the Dragon's chest rose and fell with each breath. When they had slowed to an almost sleep like state Charlie nodded at the Sora.

To Sora's credit he didn't hesitate, even for a second. He whispered the charm to levitate the dragon's jaw open. In spite of the overall docile nature of Opaleyes, they were far from cuddly. The creature's fangs were several inches long and would slice through bone like butter. As soon as her eyes found the impacted tooth she inhaled sharply forcing herself to focus on the chant before her hand could shake.

The scent drifted to her from beyond the barrier, rotted and vile. The fang was chipped at the top, the jagged edge clearly irritating the gum above it to a bright red. But more emergent was the gum below it, inflamed and almost black in some places. Infection had set in around the impacted area and the skin would be incredibly painful. Hermione and Charlie linked eyes, both knowing what this meant.

Charlie threw the pebble he was holding at Sora, all the while maintaining the trance. The boy looked at him curiously and when Charlie indicated to stop his face fell. Just as quick that determination was back and he turned back to the Opaleye. Hermione's breath caught as he carefully made his way to the side of the jaw. The tooth was tucked in the back of the dragon's mouth, just past the hinge of muscle that allowed the dragon control of his jaw.

Hermione looked at Charlie who had gone white. He indicated to maintain the trance because it was all that they could do. If they let it drop Sora would be dead before he left the ward line. If he pulled it anyway… well he was still probably dead but there was nothing they could do about it. This is why they always had more people. Hermione looked desperately around for someone, anyone to pull out the reckless Clerk, only to find an empty field, the few workers having gone to dinner with the setting sun.

Hermione continued to glare at Sora because it was all she could do to keep from panicking. Every cleansing and numbing spell he cast was a risk. If their magics crossed it could cancel the trance and they would have an angry, confused dragon on their hands.

By the time Sora reached into the dragon's mouth, her heart was racing. He was only protected by the thin skin of her gloves that the dragon's fangs would cut through instantly. When he touched the fang Hermione felt the spell jerk as the dragon fought for consciousness and her heart sank. Still she fought to maintain the trace even as Charlie signaled for Sora to get out. Still the boy didn't listen and adjusted his grip. He held up three fingers on his left hand as he counted down. 1… 2… 3!

Hermione screamed as the dragon broke through her magic with a roar of pain. It reared up, knocking Sora to the ground as he attempted to scramble away. Charlie was there in a flash, pulling the boy to his feet as they made for the edge of the wards. Hermione threw up some of the golden balls but the Opaleye crashed through them with a shake of his head, making them dissipate. She watched in slow motion horror as the dragon turned away from the source of pain, its feet coming down hard on the ground and its body following behind it.

She screamed again as the whipcord tail sliced through the air, landing on both men's backs with a crack and sending them flying out of the enclosure. In spite of her own body's reservations, she stumbled to her feet, her magic rioting at the spell snap. She was forced to lumber around the long way, not daring to risk the now flaming Opaleye as it melted everything inside the bubble possible in its rage. By the time she made it to them both boys were groaning and Charlie was attempting to help Sora sit up.

"I-Idiots!" She shouted hurrying over to examine Sora. She gasped when she noticed the blood soaked lash on his shirt, right over his spine. If it cut too deep he may never be able to walk again. Hermione felt that fear she hadn't experienced in years creep over her like ice. She took a deep breath and yanked it up, sobbing to see the shallow flesh wound striping along his back.

"Is it-"

"You stupid. Stupid boy!" she cried, turning and pulling him tightly to her chest. It was wholly inappropriate but for that very moment he could have been anyone. Harry, Ron, Neville, Fred. Injuries like that only came out surface if you were lucky, and Hermione had never been lucky.

"Mistress-"

"Call me Hermione you absolutely barking mad, daft, in-insolent-" the rest of her words were lost to sobs. She felt Charlie's warm hand on her shoulder before Sora awkwardly wrapped her hands around his back. By the time she got a hold of herself and pulled back she was surprised to find tears leaking down his face as well.

"Are you okay?" she asked, already digging in her bag for a cleaning solution. She withdrew it, handing it off to Sora while Charlie ran a weak diagnostic charm on the boy.

"That was t-terrifying," Sora responded.

"Welcome to dragons mate." Charlie laughed, pulling them both to a stand. Sora's legs wobbled but Hermione and Charlie both caught him. "Did you pull the tooth?"

Sora grinned, blinking the last of the tears away and holding out his hand. In it he held a dragon's fang, nearly six inches long and razor sharp.

"Good man. After Hermione here is done doting on you we'll get you sent to the infirmary and find you a beer. The first scar has always been a right of passage for every Dragon Handler. I'm not about to change that."

Sora smiled brightly then winced as he moved to take a step. Charlie rolled his eyes, pulling most of the boy's weight onto his shoulder as they hobbled just past the anti-apparition wards Hermione had placed over the dragon's pens. They were gone in a crack and Hermione went off to find that beer. Merlin knew they were going to need a lot of it.