Chapter Three

Harry slowly inched away from her, as far as his chair would let him.

"Let me put it this way, 'Mione," he hurriedly said. "You have been working so much lately, when is the last time you could just kick back and relax?"

Clenching her jaw, she took a quick look around their circle and looked Harry in the eye again. "Oh, I'm sorry Mr. I Can Do Most Of My Work Behind A Desk, I don't see you caring much about Spanish dragon egg smugglers, or the fact that a baby Common Welsh Green was hatched and released in Granada for sport — which ended up seriously hurt because some Wizards decided to use him as target practice. It was quite a feat that we managed to save his life and send it to a Dragon Reserve. But yeah, maybe I should kick back and relax."

"Wait," Charlie interrupted, with his eyes wide, "you were the one who send us the injured Welsh Green?"

Looking at him, Hermione swallowed and tried not to look at his bulging biceps. "Yeah, he did arrive alright, didn't he?"

"Absolutely!," he answered. "We were very surprised actually, that you managed to save his wing. Normally that kind of damage results in a complete or at least a partial loss — we've never seen a dragon recover so beautifully. How did you manage to do that, or even think of it?"

"I do work at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," she smiled.

"Yeah, but-"

"I thought dragons couldn't be hurt because their hide is basically spell-proof," Ron interjected, rubbing his Dragon hide boots together.

Hermione just about managed not to roll her eyes at him. "That is technically true, however their wing membrane is not as strong. Especially when it is hit with cursed ice and thrown Reducto's at."

The people around her flinched.

"But you were able to heal him?" Bill asked.

Hermione nodded. "Of course. I read about cursed ice in Hogwarts: A History years ago. And while the multiple Reducto's did a lot of damage, not all of the membrane was lost. So I put the dragon in a Bewitched Sleep and slowly started melting the ice with an Incendio, while at the same time applying an insane amount of Dittany on the wings before the ice completely melted and washed what was left of the membrane away. It was a slow process, and we were lucky that we got to him straight away, but it worked in the end."

"That must have taken hours!" Ginny cried out.

"People are absolute arseholes," Angelina mumbled.

"You had that much Dittany on you?" Harry asked, frowning his eyebrows.

Hermione nodded, "I always have my kit with me in those situations, and in my experience there is no such thing as too much Dittany. Neville has a special greenhouse dedicated to it and sends me a fresh batch every month."

Next to her, Aubrey started laughing and clapping her hands. "Hermione Granger, ladies and gentleman, the Brightest Witch of her Age. Saving House Elf's, dragons and everything in between."

The rest of their group joined her and Hermione felt her cheeks heat up horribly. Looking from beneath her eyelashes, she sneaked a glance at Charlie. Catching her eyes, the man in front of her gave her a quick wink and a slow smirk. She felt her womb tighten and took a long sip from her drink.

~~~

The night had come to an end and almost everybody had gone home or went to bed in the Burrow. But Hermione had felt bad about the mess and was tidying up a bit. Molly had enough on her hands with all the little ones running around and it was the least she could do.

"I am curious about one thing."

Hermione jumped and looked behind her. Leaning against one of the party tables, Charlie was watching her with his arms crossed. She had been cleaning up the drinks table and hadn't heard him approach.

"What's that?" She asked him, rubbing her hands against her dress. She also wanted to smooth out her hair, but she managed to stop herself before she got the chance.

"Healing the Common Green must have taken at least twelve — if not twenty-four — continuous hours of work and you send it to us, while surely the Wales Reserve must have been more convenient," he stated.

"Those are two things," Hermione quipped.

Charlie arched an eyebrow at her. "You know what I mean."

She sighed. "It took me a while to get a hang of melting the ice and applying the Dittany at the same time and in the right proportions. Once I found the best method, Mariana, Juan-Carlo and I took turns in healing the wing membrane. The cursed ice wouldn't melt on its own, so we could take all the time we need. And because the dragon had only been hatched for a couple of weeks, my Bewitched Sleep was more than strong enough to keep the dragon asleep."

"And why did you send him to us?" Charlie asked. "I'm sure sending him to the Wales Reserve would have been easier and Head Keeper Sanders is more than capable of taking care of a wounded animal; he taught most of us in Romania how to handle dragons in the first place."

He might not have noticed it, but Hermione was very aware of the fact that he was slowly walking towards her. He had put his hands into his pockets and his blue eyes were almost black in the darkness of the night.

"Head Keeper Sanders retired last year," Hermione muttered. "And yes, the Wales Reserve would have been easier, but it's just not the same since he left. And I — I wanted to make sure that he would be taken care of properly."

He was standing very close to her now, and she tried to take a step back, but the drinks table was already digging into her legs.

"Properly?" Charlie smirked, while raising that damn eyebrow again.

"You know what I mean," she said back to him, smiling slightly. "I worked fifteen hours on him, I just wanted to make sure that he got the best care possible."

"Really? And how did you find that out?" He asked, still smirking. "You looked into the Reserve? You looked in to me?"

"You seem to forget that I work at the Ministry for the Regulation and —"

"And Control of Magical Creatures — yeah, you've mentioned it. But I met a lot of your fellow colleagues and they don't even know a quarter of what you know about dragons, let alone the way Reserve's are managed or the state that they're in."

"I do take my job very seriously, Charlie, and I care about dragons — you know what happened to the dragon from Gringotts."

He tilted his head and nodded. "That's fair. Well, Hermione, thank you for indulging me. Sweet dreams."

With that he leaned even closer and she could feel his breath on her face. Giving her another smile, he kissed her cheek. He lingered a few seconds longer than she expected and when he leaned back, her blasted cheeks were flaming again.

Not saying another word, he turned around and walked back to the dimly lit house. Bewildered she watched him walk away. He hadn't always been so affectioned, had he? Shaking her head once more, she grasped her wand and Appearrated as fast as she could back home.

~~~

The next Monday, Hermione had to deliver her final rapport on the Spanish dragon smugglers to her boss at the Ministry. Standing again in front of her bedroom mirror, she smoothed down her new navy pencil skirt.

Mariana, her liaison to the Spanish Ministry, was a decade older than Hermione and a true Spanish beauty who was never seen without her red lipstick. She had gasped in horror when she had seen Hermione in her sensible slacks and flats, with her hair braided back. So, when their mission was over and just before Hermione had to go back to England, Mariana had dragged her to multiple high-end stores, both Muggle and magical. The result? Hermione now owned more strappy heels and tight skirts than she was comfortable with. Even the dress she'd worn to Percy's birthday was one of Mariana's choices.

But than again, she did look better. Glancing at her arse and her legs in said strappy heels, she almost looked as good as Mariana had made her out to be. Hermione had combined the skirt with a navy blouse and she had pulled her hair up into a high bun.

Looking away from the mirror and picking up her briefcase, she walked to her kitchen and finished her tea calmly. Both Angelina and Harry hadn't been completely wrong this weekend. It had been a long time since she had been able to let go completely, and it had been even longer since she'd had a shag — let alone a decent one. But she'd also had meant her words. There was no one else in her department who was willing to go to the lengths she'd gone to to stop the smugglers and save the young dragon. Even Mariana, who barely had left her side while Hermione had been in Spain, had rolled her eyes one or two times when Hermione had told her what her plans were.

"Cariña," the Spanish woman had said in her husky voice, "tu vida es más importante que tu trabajo. Your life is more important than your job. Don't overwork yourself and have a little fun every once in a while."

But then again, Hermione made sure that she regularly had her orgasms, even if they were toy-induced. The hormones that were released were crucial to a human and she wasn't about to deny her body that.

Putting her glass in the sink, her mind flashed to Charlie. Sweet, reliable Charlie, who she'd see a maximum of two times a year. And who had made her breathless pressed up against him and her womb tighten during that lingering kiss on her cheek.

Shaking her head, she stalked to her fireplace and took some floo-powder. She had a job to do. Thinking about a guy she barely spent any time with was surely a waste of hers.