Games Are Afoot Chapter 19
Games Are Afoot Chapter 19
Flinch!
Disclaimer: JKR created the magic and I am just playing happily with it.
Author's Note: A big thank you to XxAudgirlxHarryPotterfanxX, hpdrfan1, Artemis942, JackMyles, jenneliza, jwalking, and enthralled for the excellent questions they contributed to this Flinch game.
The fireplace danced merrily, crackling and sparking as if it were aware of what night it was. Christmas Eve was never dull with the Weasley family. Even though Molly had left to spend the evening with Arthur at St. Mungo's, there was still a very full house. There had been songs and stories and lots of laughter. When Molly returned, they ate a variety of the Christmas treats she had somehow found time to make. Slowly, the house emptied as people left or went to bed including Ginny. Fred and George were sitting by the fire talking quietly and making notes about whatever they were discussing. The wizarding wireless was playing soft music while Remus and Sirius were sitting in plush green armchairs reminiscing about the Christmas Holidays they had spent together with James. Everyone was so cozy and occupied that they failed to notice Charlie and Hermione slip out of the room.
As they made their way up the stairs to the parlour, they didn't talk. Charlie would sneak a glance at her and then look forward while Hermione was trying subtly to do the same. They arrived at the landing where Sirius had his room and Charlie motioned for her to stop while he disappeared into the room. When he returned he was sporting the Flinch Quill and a huge smile.
He put his empty hand on her back and urged her forward. "Ready?"
"Of course."
On the next level of the house, they opened the door to the parlour which felt dark and cool from being empty all evening. Charlie used his wand to light the candles dimly and to start a warm fire in the hearth. As Charlie looked up from his efforts he could see Hermione reflected in the mirror above it. The pale light from the candles shone from behind her casting a golden aura about her. She was breathtaking. How did he get here? Was this a good idea? Wasn't he too old for her? When did he get so nervous over a girl?
She caught his eye in the mirror and smiled at him chasing all of the crazy thoughts from his mind as if they had apparated to somewhere else. He turned to face her.
"So."
"Here we are."
"Yeah."
"Okay."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "What an intelligent conversation!"
Charlie sniggered too. "Oh, definitely! Shall we sit?"
They moved to the couch and sat at opposite ends. Charlie placed the quill on the green leather cushion between them. The armrests of the couch slanted slightly outward with silver pillows daintily leaned against them. Hermione tucked her legs up under her as she leaned onto the throw pillow behind her.
Charlie was quite a bit bigger than Hermione so he sat with his left leg bent at the knee on the couch and his right foot hanging off with his foot planted fimly on the floor. His left arm draped casually over the back of the sofa with his hand resting on his bent knee. Hermione found herself staring at him in the soft light.
"Do I pass muster?" Charlie gently chided her. She looked down, blushing again.
"Sorry, it's just…well…"
"Come on, put your finger on the quill, I just thought of my first question." Charlie insisted.
"What happened to ladies' first?" Muttered Hermione with a small sly smile as she placed her finger on the quill.
Charlie loved how saucy and cheeky she could be, but he really had thought of a great question. "So how many times do you think you have blushed since I kissed you the first time under the mistletoe?" He gazed determinedly into her eyes, but she didn't flinch. He was so happy she was a gryffindor. Her bravery was…attractive.
"I would say pretty much every time you touched me after plus a few when you would look at me, so, 26." Hermione answered as she worked through her answer aloud.
Charlie's mouth hung open. He had intentionally bumped into her several times at dinner. Even though she wouldn't look at him, he could see the side of her face and feel the heat her blushing had caused fill the minimal space between them at the table. She actually had a number. She didn't get flinched with the number so that meant it was right. Was she keeping track?
Hermione gently cleared her throat to interrupt his musings. "I believe it's your turn to blush, Mr. Weasley. And, of course, to answer the same question." Hermione laughed inwardly at the obvious shock on Charlie's face. He had a lot to learn about her.
"Um, once. Right now." He revealed as the quill released their fingers. "You surprised me with an actual number."
"Keeping a count was the only way I got through dinner. I was starting to think you were torturing me. People must have thought I was sunburned!" Hermione joked playfully.
"Torturing you? No. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was there."
"Know you were—are you kidding me? You create quite a presence. Believe me. I am very aware that you are there." Charlie chuckled at her brutal honesty. It was refreshing. He had played games with girls before, but Hermione didn't play those kinds of games. He found her openness charming.
"It's your question. Fire away. I am an open book!" Charlie said teasingly. He hoped he was a book she would like to read.
"My question…" Hermione said thoughtfully. Her eyes focused rapidly and she looked at Charlie with a glint in her eye. He wasn't sure what that glint meant but he was about to blush for the second time that night. "When did you first notice me?" She asked calmly.
Charlie was stunned. He was sure his mouth was hanging open. He thought they would ease into the big questions, but he had underestimated this bookworm. She went right for the jugular. It was oddly appealing. Then reality crashed into his reverie and he realized he had to actually answer the question. It had been a very long time since a girl had made him so nervous and then he realized that very girl was sitting across from him watching him as if she could see the wheels turning in his mind.
"Um," Charlie hesitated. He really didn't want to scare her or come across as a lecherous fool. Noticed or observed. He was desperately trying to believe that he had only recently noticed her in that way. "Over the summer when we played Sardines--AHHHHH! Dragonscales! That stings!"
Hermione laughed. "Why Mr. Weasley. You flinched. And only on the second question. What am I going to do with you?" She shook her head. "Why don't you try again?" She suggested.
Charlie looked her over. He knew he had to answer, but he was worried about how she would take it. Suddenly he relaxed, after all, she had to answer the question too. "I first noticed you at the Quidditch World Cup. I knew you were young, but it was really fun listening to you and Ginny keeping Ron and Harry in line. I recognized your sharp wit and the fact that you could verbally spar with Fred and George put you on the radar, Bookworm."
Hermione beamed. She was thrilled that he had mentioned her mind more than her looks. Charlie had assuredly just risen in her estimation.
"Your turn Bookworm." He prodded. She gave herself an internal squeal at the nickname. Coming from him it made her feel, well, great.
"I noticed you at the same event." Hermione responded quirking her eyebrow at him. "I had always loved the excitement of being at Quidditch games even if I didn't feel the need to break them down for discussion for weeks or months after. There is just something about the feeling of being there, you know?" Charlie nodded. He completely understood. The tangible pull of excitement from that many people all together…her words pulled him back to her. "…people together create a different sort of magic. Anyway, if you remember, you were on the end of the row by me and you would lean in every so often and explain a more subtle move or play to me. That is what made me sit up and take notice that you were more than just Ron and Ginny's older brother. You were Charlie."
The quill released them again. "Round one to Miss Granger." Charlie conceded gallantly.
"Are you ready for round two, then?" Hermione asked flirtatiously, feeling emboldened by his earlier comments.
Charlie thought for a moment. He had so many questions running through his mind. He figured he could play Flinch forever with Hermione and never completely know her. That thought intrigued him on an incredibly deep level. They had just shared a fairly intense question so he decided to ask a less awkward one.
"What are you most afraid of? If a boggart popped up, what would it be for you?"
Hermione didn't even have to think about this answer. "Failing." She said seriously.
"Failing at what?" Charlie asked her slightly confused by the simplicity of her answer.
"Anything. Professor Lupin had us face a boggart in third year. Mine would have been Professor McGonagall telling me I had failed everything. I am afraid of not succeeding. That was partly why I had such a hard time second year when…well, when something went wrong." Hermione finished lamely.
Charlie could see that her eyes held a look of disappointment or was that pain? "What went wrong second year? I mean besides the whole Chamber of Secrets thing."
"Well, I am not sure how much you know about what Ron, Harry and I went through that year. It was frightening enough with everything that happened to Ginny. But, the boys and I wanted to find out what was going on before we even knew how involved Ginny was. People were blaming Harry. Or at least assuming it was him. He had shown he was a parseltongue and it generated a lot of fear."
"Harry is a parseltongue?" Charlie interrupted in awe.
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore believes that when you-know-who, well, Voldemort, tried to kill Harry that some traits passed on to him like speaking parseltongue."
Charlie let out a low whistle. "I have always wanted to talk to animals or creatures. As scary as it probably was for him, it had to have been amazingly interesting as well."
Hermione smiled. She had thought along similar lines after the initial shock of the situation. "Anyhow, we decided that Draco Malfoy might know who the heir of slytherin was so we attempted to make Polyjuice Potion so we could get close enough to ask some questions."
"You brewed Polyjuice potion when you were 12?" Exclaimed Charlie. Bill had mentioned it, but having her confirm it was something else.
"13 actually. I have an early birthday. But, yes. It turned out really well. We had to be rather sneaky to gather hairs from them. Ron and Harry's turned out okay, but mine, well, I learned an important lesson about the difference between book learning and practical application." The look on her face was distant and sad.
"What happened Hermione?" Charlie asked tenderly leaning closer.
"The hair I got from Millicent Bulstrode's robes wasn't hers. It belonged to a cat."
Charlie felt his jaw gape open again. "But that potion isn't meant for animal to human transformation!"
"I know." She answered quietly. "I was in the hospital wing for weeks. I was so humiliated. I felt like I failed."
"But you didn't. You still managed an incredibly difficult potion, correctly I might add." Charlie said slightly in awe and trying to comfort the look of dejection he saw on her face.
"But it was still partly a failure to me. I can be very hard on myself. What about you? What are you afraid of? I have a hard time picturing you afraid of anything though, what with the career path you've chosen." Hermione chuckled as an image of him waltzing with his Matilda came dancing through her mind.
Charlie was relieved to see her mood lightening. "I am afraid of being alone."
"Alone. Like can't walk through the dark house by yourself alone or something more?" Hermione wanted to clarify. She noticed he seemed dejected when he answered.
"I see how happy my parents are together. I love having so many brothers and Ginny…" His voice faded out as he gathered his thoughts. "I just want the whole deal, you know. I want the wife and the house and the kids. My parents found each other early on and I sort of assumed that I would do the same thing, but, well, I had fun at Hogwarts, but never met anyone really special to me and then I moved to Romania. I love my job, the dragons, but there aren't a lot of witches who want that kind of a life."
Hermione looked at Charlie as he avoided looking at her. "Charlie, when it's right, it'll all fall into place. You can have your dragons and your dreams too."
Charlie looked at the young witch across from him. How did a sixteen year old slip of a girl get so wise? Her words had jabbed and prodded at his heart, puncturing it with comfort. He felt even more drawn to her because of her compassion.
"So," she pulled his mind back to the game and moved his finger back to the quill. He hadn't even realized it wasn't touching it. The feel of her hand on his made his hand tingle delightfully. "What is your dream house? If you want the whole enchilada—"
"What's an enchilada?" Charlie asked in confusion.
"It's a type of ethnic food. It's spicy. You make it with seasoned meat and sauce wrapped up in a tortilla, or flat bread, and smother it in more sauce and cheese. My mum used to make them after she and my dad went on a trip to Mexico."
"I like spicy."
"I am not surprised, but you still have to answer the original question."
"Dream house right?" She nodded. "Let's see. I love The Burrow. There's just no where on earth like it." Charlie sighed happily. "I want the feeling from the Burrow to be in my house. The joy. The laughter. The love. As for style, I think I would go bigger outwardly than upwardly." Hermione laughed as she pictured how tall the Burrow had gotten as they had added floors and rooms vertically.
"What else?" She encouraged.
"I love the whole wrap around porch idea. I like sitting outside and being able to see what's there. There is just something about nature. I want to have the house be out where creatures will be as curious about me as I am about them. I want my house to have a huge kitchen where the family can gather…am I rambling on too much?" Hermione shook her head.
"It sounds lovely. What colors do you see? Wood floors or carpet?"
"I like more subdued colors—other than red and gold," They laughed. "I want my home to be comforting and for me, earthy tones do that. Of course my den will be totally decked out for Gryffindor." He added as if he was reassuring her.
"Of course."
"I like dark wood so I think I would choose wood floors with comfy rugs strategically placed. I love the fluffy rug my dad got my mum for in front of the fireplace."
Surprise flitted across Hermione's face as she sat up straighter. "I didn't know that was your dad's doing! How romantic. Did he give it to her for a special occasion?"
"Yeah, I think it was their anniversary. My dad can be a sappy sod when the mood strikes him." Charlie laughed as he remembered how his mum had squealed with delight when she saw it the first time. "What about you? What is your dream house like?"
"I am partial to earthy tones as well. Rich deep browns (like her eyes Charlie thought to himself) and deep greens and burgundy. They are soothing I think. My house must have a library. I can see it with bookshelves lining every wall. That is the room I see most when I dream about it anyway. I can see the fire dancing in the hearth, the soft plushy couch with the knitted afghan…I guess I should worry about more than just that room, but that is what I think of most. I like your idea of a wrap around porch though. The swing on your parents is one of my favorite places to relax."
They enjoyed a quiet moment thinking over what they had learned about each other so far. Charlie decided to follow Hermione's lead and he gently pulled her hand back toward the quill, letting his fingers graze over hers as he removed his hand. She smiled as she looked to him, waiting for his next question.
"What do you really think about our age difference?"
Hermione froze. They had been so relaxed that she was unprepared for such a direct question. She wasn't sure how to answer it. She'd thought about it a lot during the fall.
"I, uh, I think it's fine…ouch, you're right that does sting." She said laughing and banishing the tension she had just been feeling.
"Interesting response, Bookworm, now try the truth." He quirked his eyebrow at her like she had done so many times to him before. It was…captivating. "Charlie, I have thought about it more than I probably should have. I…I really don't have an issue with it, I think you are…" Her face blossomed into several shades of red, each darker than the one before it.
"What? What do you think?" Charlie prodded gently, desperate to know what she thought of him.
"I think it makes you more appealing to me." She barely whispered.
Charlie felt his insides leap for joy. That was so much better than 'I'm fine with it.' He needed to get himself one of these Flinch quills as he just decided he never wanted to be without one.
"What about you, Charlie, does it bother you that I am…as young as I am?"
The tables had turned and Charlie knew nothing but a straight answer would work, but how bold was he? How much of an answer should he give her? She had been upfront and honest with him. She actually had been more in depth with her explanations all evening than he had expected. He decided to go for it, lay his cards on the table as it were.
"Hermione, I find you to be dead sexy and very interesting and just plain amazing and I feel like a dirty old man for thinking it about you."
Their eyes locked in a fierce battle for understanding. He could see that her eyes held joy at his compliments, but there was something else going on behind them. Had he said too much?
Hermione could see the emotions racing through his eyes. She was thrilled that he thought of her the same way she thought of him, though she was surprised at how it made him feel about himself. She knew she needed to say the right thing to ease his mind.
"Charlie, I am older than most students in my year. I have stood by Harry Potter and your very own brother as they have faced the threat of Voldemort for the last four years. I may be only sixteen, but I will be of age in nine months. You have been nothing but a gentleman and there is nothing old about you. You are charming and kind and considerate. You make me feel things I have never felt before."
She daringly reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. "I don't know where this," she gestured between the two of them, "is going yet, but I really want to find out."
Charlie stared at her. He knew he was making a decision here. They would either end it right now because of his misgivings, or they would keep going. She had put the ball in his court. Time seemed to slow as his mind poured over his choice. He couldn't deny that there was a powerful connection between them, but she was young. Her gaze penetrated him and her mind brought his to life. He thought about her more and more even when they were apart. When Fred and George had pulled their little prank, he at first thought it was funny, but then when his lips had touched hers…well it stirred him deeply. He had kissed his fair share of pretty and engaging witches, but he had never felt what he felt with her. How can this be? She is only sixteen. But she seems so much older.
There never really was a choice. He couldn't not be around her. He would go slow and wait for her until she was old enough, but he knew subconsciously that he needed her. It really should be the other way, but Charlie Weasley found comfort and strength in Hermione Granger. The broom ride had sealed that for him even though he wasn't consciously aware of it at the time.
The colder air over his hand brought his attention back to the surface. She had let go of his hand, but was still leaning against the back of the couch with her arm draped over it and her legs dangling off of it. He matched her stance.
"I'd very much like to see where this goes." He answered her simply but with feeling. Her wide smile and sparkling eyes were his reward.
Without noticing, the two had gravitated toward each other and the flinch quill was forgotten. The candles continued to flicker and the fire continued to crackle in the background.
"I believe it's your question." Charlie's low quiet voice broke through the companionable silence.
"What was the riskiest thing you did at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked searchingly.
Amusement flickered through Charlie's expression and his body began to shake with quiet laughter. Hermione was very curious about his reaction to her question.
"I would have to say the all night Quidditch game at the end of my seventh year." He finally said.
"An all night Quidditch game?" She quirked her eyebrow again. He really liked it when she did that.
"Yeah, we didn't invite the Slytherins, but a bunch of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws decided we wanted to play together before we all left school forever. We started planning it during Easter holidays. We tried to put up all sorts of silencing spells and redirection charms so the teachers and Filch wouldn't know what we were up to. It took us about eight weeks to get it all together. The last night before the leaving feast and graduation we did it. It was spectacular. We went down to the pitch about 12:30 a.m. and started playing. Fred and George had raided the kitchens as usual so we even had nourishment. We played until the sun came up." Charlie had the most contented expression on his face as he relived the memory.
"How could you see?"
"We used lighting charms on the bludgers, the quaffle and the snitch. We also put them on the back and front of our brooms so we would know where everyone was. Red lights for Gryffindor, blue for Ravenclaw, and yellow for Hufflepuff. From a distance it must have looked like a firefly or fairy war. Winner kept playing and the other two teams took turns. I played all night." He grinned cheekily. "I caught that snitch at least twenty times. I actually still have it. I figured we had bonded by the end."
Hermione smiled at him. Of all the risky things he could have done, he picked Quidditch. She was sure it had been an amazing evening for him. She could see him soaring through the darkness to find the glowing snitch.
"Did anyone ever find out?"
"Aye, Dumbledore knew all the time. He could tell we had been manipulating the wards on the pitch." Charlie looked sheepish at the thought. "We thought we were so sneaky, but that man knows everything that goes on in that school I think. Turns out, he was watching a fair part of the evening and conjured butterbeer for us at the end. He was definitely a good sport about it."
Hermione laughed. "Dumbledore seems omniscient a fair amount of the time." She agreed.
"What did you use your protean charm on?" Charlie blurted out.
"Oh, on some fake galleons." Hermione sputtered. "Why?"
"I could ask you the very same question. Why would you want to charm fake galleons?"
Hermione's eyes searched his. "Charlie, do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"I can't tell you directly, but I can lead you to make some assumptions."
'This is an interesting path to an answer,' Charlie thought to himself as he nodded at her to begin.
"Do you remember what you figured out about what Harry, Ron and I were doing at school?"
"You mean the secret DADA meetings?" She nodded. "The galleons had something to do with those meetings?" He asked not really understanding as she nodded again.
"Can't you just tell me?" Charlie sighed in frustration.
She shook her head this time. "I charmed the paper everyone signed up on to jinx anyone who told."
His eyes lit up with merriment. "Well, aren't you the clever, sneaky witch. Do the others know?"
She shook her head again returning his smile.
"So I need to think is what you're telling me?" She nodded.
"Time to chase the cobwebs out of that musty brain of yours." She added mischievously.
"Galleons, galleons, galleons," Charlie muttered as he tried to work it out.
"Think about what a protean charm is used for." She encouraged.
"To pass secret information without drawing attention." He said suddenly as it clicked in his head. "You are talking to the members through the galleons! Hermione you're brilliant!"
Hermione wore a look of immense satisfaction. "I don't know about brilliant," she said demurely. "Clever, maybe."
"Oh don't be so modest." Charlie shot back proudly, "Clever doesn't even begin to cover it."
Hermione shrugged modestly but she was grinning from ear to ear.
"Can you tell me where you got the idea?"
She smirked her most Slytherin smirk and said, "Death eaters."
"Death Eaters!" He nearly shouted. "How would you get that idea from death eaters?" Charlie couldn't begin to understand the feelings of panic and distress that had arisen in him. His stomach was clenched in knots and his hands had closed to tight fists. He felt Hermione's hand caress his back to open.
"I just learned about the dark mark. I thought it could be applied much more appropriately." She gently assured him.
He felt his body relax. He was surprised at the surge of intense emotion and protectiveness he was feeling. She was certainly no ordinary witch.
"What's your favorite constellation?"
Charlie chuckled low and deep in his chest at her blatant attempt to change the subject.
"You would think, given my career and passions leading that way, that my favorite would be Draco." Hermione nodded intently listening to him. "But it's really Centaurus. It has been ever since my fourth year when I met one. They talked about the stars and the potential meanings for things and it was way over my head, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. I hated divination. It seemed like trite mucky guess work with no point."
He stopped at the snort of laughter that had escaped Hermione's lips. "What?"
"Sorry. I just totally agree with you. Mindless drivel. I stormed out and quit my third year…sorry to interrupt." She began assertively and finished sheepishly at her outburst.
Charlie laughed. 'I absolutely love his laugh,' Hermione thought to herself. "I can picture you storming down the stairs." He paused and gave her a comical look, "But, anyhow, when Hagrid introduced me to Firenze, I realized there were things I would never fully understand, but would spend a lifetime trying to anyhow."
"That was downright profound…for a dragon tamer." Hermione chuckled at his look of indignation. "Honestly, if you are going for offended, you shouldn't let your eyes sparkle like you are laughing internally."
"Since we are on the subject of stars, what is it that you think about when you lie outside by the lake at night? Or when you are sitting at the top of the astronomy tower waiting for class to begin? Ever since you mentioned it in your letter, I have wondered."
Hermione looked across the room thoughtfully. "I think about a lot of things. I think about the future mostly. Looking at the sky at night makes me realize that I am a part of something really big and I wonder what my place is. I want to do something amazing and make a difference in the world. I think about how to do that." Her voice had risen along with her passionate diatribe. She quieted herself and added mysteriously, "I also think of other things."
Charlie was not surprised by her ambition, but he was extremely interested in what other things she was thinking. He paused giving her a chance to continue, but when she didn't he nudged.
"Like what?"
Her face tinged slightly pink. "Lately, you." She looked straight into his eyes. He looked back with a cheeky grin.
"Hopefully those are good thoughts and not nightmares." Hermione slapped his shoulder lightly.
"Oh, don't try to be funny. I know you think about me. You just said so."
"Me?" He gasped dramatically. "When did I say such a thing?"
"You know very well that you just told me you were thinking about me and what I think about under the stars…"
"Okay, you got me. I have been thinking about you a lot."
"How much is a lot?" She challenged.
"Too much and not enough." He answered and she knew exactly what he meant.
A clock chimed jarring them out of their conversation.
"Oh, merlin! It's 5 a.m.!" Hermione said with a start.
"We've been playing all night." Charlie drawled.
"It doesn't seem like that long thought does it?" She looked to him as he shook his head.
"I should probably walk you to your room." He offered. "In a few months, we could just have you apparate, but for now, I think we'll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Wouldn't want to scare the life out of Ginny." They laughed quietly at the image of Ginny being startled awake by the popping of them apparating into the room.
Hermione sighed. It had been a lovely evening and she was reluctant to end it, but she new she needed at least a couple of hours of sleep before they went to visit Mr. Weasley at St. Mungo's.
"I guess you're right." She finally said.
They stood and Charlie extinguished the fire and all the candles except one by the door. He took her hand and led her out into the darkened hallway. They tried to quietly find their way down to her room. At the door she turned to face him.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening Charlie. I really enjoyed it."
"Well, I will have to thank you as well. I can't remember when I have had so much fun, unless…"
"Unless what?" Hermione demanded in a fierce whisper.
"Unless you count the summer, and the two days before we got here." Charlie smiled. He pulled her into a warm hug and held her for a moment inhaling the strawberry scent of her shampoo. He basked in the softness of her embrace. Finally, he pulled away and then leaned back in to kiss her on the cheek.
"Good night Bookworm." He whispered.
"Good night Dragon Tamer." She said as she slipped through the door.
The door across the hall opened and Fred stood there half-asleep with a tremendous look of satisfaction on his face.
"You know we are going to have to talk about this, Charlie." He said in a perfect imitation of his dad.
"Ha. Ha. Just remember. You started it." Charlie said and then he darted up the stairs happily two at a time.