Author's Note: This story was written for the 2021 Deformis Occursum Harry Potter Meet Ugly competition. The prompt was: "My significant other is trying to propose and you ruin it." Thank you so much to my wonderful alpha Astrangefan and beta meditationsinemergencies for your last-minute reviews. You're both fantastic! And a huge thank you to shamione for organizing and administering this fantastic competition.

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June 30, 2003

"Grab Hermione or Kenneth and get over there to break up the fairies and pixies," Jansen directed. "As far as we can tell, the skirmish started around daybreak. They've destroyed a quarter of the forest already."

"Yes, sir," Charlie replied. "We'll be there in half an hour."

"Make it fifteen minutes, Mr. Weasley." Director Jansen turned his attention to his papers, dismissing him.

Charlie walked out to the main office to find Hermione. He had just moved back to England to take the Lead Field Agent position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He'd been wanting to return to England to be closer to his family, and when the Lead Field Agent position opened, he had jumped at the opportunity to come back without being confined to a desk job. He had moved his things into a new flat in Diagon Alley over the weekend and officially started his new position two days ago.

When he reached Hermione's desk, it was empty. She and Kenneth were the pixie specialists among the field agents; Kenneth was at Platform 9 ¾ picking up his son for the summer holidays, so Hermione was his only option today. He turned to the closest agent. "Do you know where Hermione is? We have a fairy-pixie emergency in Kielder Forest."

"I'm not sure," the man responded, "I just got back from Durham, and I haven't seen her."

Another agent piped up, "Mr. Weasley, I think she's out at lunch. Her boyfriend came to get her."

Charlie held back a huff of frustration. "Do you have any idea where they went?"

"I think I heard them say the Golden Horn?" the woman replied.

"Thank you," Charlie clipped out, then left for the main floos in the Ministry Atrium. Why Ron had decided to take Hermione to the fanciest restaurant in Diagon Alley for a weekday lunch was beyond him, but whatever the reason, it was cutting precious time out of their fifteen minutes to get to the fairy colony.

When he arrived at the Golden Horn, he walked past the hostess and gazed around the restaurant until his eyes landed on Ron and Hermione. He made his way to their table. "Ron, Hermione," he nodded at each of them in greeting. "I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch, but Hermione, I need you right now. Director Jansen ordered us out to Kielder Forest; the pixies have overrun the fairy colony there, and they've been at war since early morning."

Her eyes widened.

"They've ravaged a quarter of the forest, and we need to get there, now, to control them so they don't destroy the rest of the woods."

Hermione appeared slightly panicked and glanced at Ron, who glared at Charlie with a red face. "Oi, Charlie!" Ron snapped. "We're in the middle of something here! Bugger off. Your pixie emergency can wait an hour."

Ron turned his attention back to Hermione, and Charlie noticed their hands were entwined on the table top. He stepped closer to Hermione, contemplating physically lifting her from her chair if Ron didn't let her go.

Charlie saw Hermione glance nervously between him and his brother, unsure where her attention should be focused. Ron was gripping her hand and pointedly trying to ignore his brother, which irked Charlie.

"Ron, this isn't some training drill," Charlie bit out. "Two species are killing each other and destroying their habitat, and I need Hermione, now. She's one of our two pixie specialists, and the other one is picking up his kid from the Hogwarts Express. Hermione is my only option, and you need to stop being a git about it!"

Ron started to stand, his countenance ready for a fight, when Hermione said, "Ron, I'm so sorry." Then she turned to Charlie, her expression a mixture of sympathy and irritation. "Charlie, can you give us fifteen minutes, and then I'll join you?"

She turned back to Ron. "I really would love to finish our lunch and our… conversation…"—her eyes went a little moony at this, Charlie noticed.

He tried to suppress his irritation and be nice. "I would if I could, but Director Jansen insisted I arrive with you or Kenneth within fifteen minutes." He glanced at his watch. "Which means we have five minutes left at this point."

Hermione seemed upset, and Ron looked enraged. She tried to placate his brother. "Ron, I'm so sorry, but these are the director's orders, and Charlie needs my help; it sounds like the situation is really bad."

Then she eyed Ron with a starry-eyed gaze and asked, "Can I come over tonight to finish this?"

Charlie suppressed an eye roll, while Ron frowned, but nodded and released her hand, thank Merlin.

Hermione stood, gathering her robes around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, darling," she said, bending down to kiss his brother. Charlie found himself, perversely, turned on by the simple act, watching Hermione press her lips to Ron's. He shook his head. It had been too long since he'd gotten laid.

Hermione followed him out of the restaurant and blinked at him, waiting for instructions, disappointment and frustration written across her features.

"Apparently the pixies made it across the brook," he informed her, "and decided the vegetation in the fairy colony looked like prime feeding ground. When they breached the boundary of the fairies' habitat, the fairies attacked, which brought more pixies in, and now there's a full-scale war."

Hermione frowned and huffed out, "You know, this wouldn't have happened if wizards hadn't restricted the two groups into confined areas to contain them. While fairies live in small colonies, pixies are a dispersed species and historically roamed the Forest of Bowland."

Charlie drew up short, stopping Hermione and regarding her closely, his amber eyes hanging on to her darker brown ones. He had spent his career working with dragons, and his knowledge of other species was more limited; Hermione's information was new to him. "Go on."

"They don't usually even occupy the same habitat. Fairies prefer colder regions, and pixies prefer warmer ones. But when wizards decided to confine them to a small region in Northumberland, we forced pixies into a habitat they weren't made for, confined them to a smaller area than they would otherwise roam, and we essentially doomed something like this to happen."

"So, how often do issues like this come up in the department?"

Hermione stepped back, putting some space between them, and she sighed. "Charlie, despite what you interrupted between Ron and me"—her face did the dreamy-eyed thing again—"I appreciate that this is an emergency, and we need to get there immediately. But, how much do you know about wizarding policies toward magical creatures other than dragons?"

"Erm… not much?"

She pursed her lips. "What kind of orientation has Director Jansen given you?"

"Erm… not much."

She inhaled deeply, then exhaled as quietly as she could, narrowing her eyes at him. In a clipped voice, she said, "I understand you're the lead agent now, and I'm supposed to answer to you, but I highly suggest you follow my lead when we reach the fairy colony. Are you ready to go?"

Before he could process her statement, she wrapped her arm in his and Apparated them to Kielder Forest.

-o~0~o-

Honestly! Of all the times Charlie could have interrupted them, it had to be over this particular lunch. She was pretty sure Ron was in the middle of proposing when Charlie had stalked over to their table and demanded she accompany him on a DRCMC emergency.

Ron had been holding her hand, stroking his thumb gently over the back of it, and had been in the middle of a rather eloquent recitation of all that she meant to him and how happy he was to have her in his life and by his side. She was almost positive, given the fancy restaurant and Ron's closer attention to his appearance than normal, that he would have proposed within another five minutes if Charlie hadn't interrupted.

She and Ron were best friends, but sometimes it felt like that's all they were: best friends who had sex once a week. She loved Ron, but she could have done with more romance, more effort from him rather than taking her for granted. Hearing him enumerate over lunch all the reasons he loved her and what she meant to him… she felt treasured again. She held in a sigh and glanced at her ring finger, wondering what kind of engagement ring Ron had picked out.

"So the fairy colony is just beyond that hill," she informed Charlie. "It's best we approach from the south side of the colony because the pixie habitat is to the north, and I expect their skirmish is happening in the north portion of the forest."

Charlie nodded, his wand held aloft in the bright midday sun. It was a hot summer day, and after not five minutes of walking, they both shed their outer robes, shrinking them down and pocketing them. She glanced at Charlie and noticed a dragon tattoo crawling around his upper arm. Its tail remained under his short sleeve while its body crawled down the corded muscle of his tricep, which glowed with sweat. She almost reached out to touch it—whether the tattoo or his arm, she wasn't sure—but thought better of it.

Instead, she asked, "What kind of dragon is your tattoo?"

"Which one?" he laughed.

"The one on your arm. You have more?" She eyed him.

Without warning, he pulled up his shirt, and she was greeted with the sight of three inked dragons writhing across his breathtaking torso, which was muscular and dotted with freckles from his time in the sun. Her breath caught, and she stumbled, so focused on his sinewy body covered by the sinuous beasts that she had stopped watching where she was stepping. Her fingers itched to run over the planes of his chest and stomach, across his tattoos. She clenched her hands into fists and cleared her throat, then looked away from him, focusing on where they were going.

"So what—" Her voice came out too high-pitched. She took a breath and tried again, "So what are the dragon breeds?" She flicked her gaze back to him and saw a cheeky grin on his face. The cocky bastard knew he'd impressed her.

"Well, this one," he pointed to his arm, "is a Swedish Short-Snout. And these—" He started to pull his shirt back up—

"For Godric's sake, Charlie, keep your shirt down," she snapped, whipping her head forward again to track their path through the trees.

She heard him chuckle, his comfortable laugh easing her abashment. "Those three are a Welsh Green, a Norwegian Ridgeback, and a Hungarian Horntail." He stepped ahead of her and looked back with an impertinent wink. "Happy to show them to you again sometime, if you ever want a longer look." He couldn't possibly know that his joking with his (hopefully) future sister-in-law had gotten her all hot and bothered.

Intent on pushing the image of his bare dragon-covered torso out of her mind, she shifted her attention to their task. "Pixies are scared of patronuses, so the best way to separate them will be for us to send our patronuses out to gradually herd them back north," she instructed.

Sweat was now dripping down her neck and pooling on her stomach and back, and dark spots were apparent on her shirt where the moisture was seeping through. She cast a quick cooling charm, exhaling in relief when the cold air hit her skin.

-o~0~o-

Charlie heard a little sigh escape Hermione's lips and glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed, head tilted back slightly, her countenance one of bliss. Her shirt was stuck to her body, damp with sweat, and her face and chest held a bright sheen of perspiration. She was tan from working in the sun all summer, and he found himself staring at the glow of sweat on her exposed chest and on the subtle swell of her breasts between the top two opened buttons of her shirt.

"What's that?" he asked, referring to her sigh.

She laughed. "Cooling charm. I suddenly realized how hot I was." She lifted the hem of her shirt and brought it up to wipe her brow, exposing her stomach, which was several shades lighter than her chest, Charlie noticed.

He cast a cooling charm on himself and uttered a similar gasp of satisfaction. "Good idea," he smiled at her.

A few more steps and Hermione held out a hand to halt his movement. "Shhh, listen."

A low, angry buzzing became audible, in front of them and off to the right.

"Sounds like we've found the skirmish," she breathed. "The fairies will leave us alone, but the pixies will swarm and bite if they can get to us, so we'll need to sustain a bubble charm while we round them up."

They spent the rest of the afternoon herding the pixies north while attempting to find their chief. The fairies were forthcoming and calm, and their leader was patiently waiting to negotiate, but the pixies were unwilling to cooperate and continued to destroy trees and vegetation in their anger. It became clear their work was going to last well into the evening.

Hours later, Hermione spoke up, breathing heavily. "Charlie, I need a break. I'd like to get this finished before dark—I really don't want to stand Ron up tonight after leaving in the middle of lunch today—but I need something to eat." Then, letting out a sigh, she said, "I'll go ahead and send a patronus to Ron now, letting him know I may not be there for a couple more hours."

Charlie paused, stretching out the tense muscles in his back and arms, and noticed Hermione seemed uncharacteristically anxious while giving her patronus the message for Ron. Was his brother so petty that he would resent her for staying out late to do her job?

As she was leaving to get dinner from a nearby village, Ron's patronus appeared before them. In a dejected and slightly angry voice, it said, "Don't bother coming by tonight, it'll be too late by dark. Let's just aim for tomorrow night instead." No "bye," no "love you;" Ron's terrier disappeared.

Charlie saw her frown before she Apparated away. She and Ron had been dating since the war ended, and for the life of him, he didn't know why they were still together. Ron was a needy son of a bitch, and Charlie thought he'd only be happy in the long term with a woman who needed him just as much. Hermione was too independent, and Charlie had been witness several times to the pride warring with resentment in Ron's features when Hermione received yet another accolade.

She reappeared with their food, and, after a quickly eaten meal, they went back to work. They finally got the fairy colony and the pixie herd squared away as the sun was close to sinking behind the tops of the trees.

Charlie was tired, but still running on adrenaline. "I think I'll head to the Leaky after I get back and clean up. Want to join me? Work off today's stress?"

She considered it, and when she turned him down, claiming she was too tired, he was surprised to find he'd been really hoping she'd come with him. "Another time," she said. He might hold her to it.