Title: Of Playgrounds and Balls
Author: ji aka Corrupted Desires
Disclaimer: Currently plotting to kidnap the twins...
Rating: G
Pairing: Charlie/Hermione
Summary: A moment of recognition.
A/N: I originally wrote this two-part ficlet for the livejournal community Books & Freckles, but it did so well there I figured I would share it here as well. Hope you all enjoy and remember... Reviews are like live-sustaining candy! winks
Freshly out of his first year at Hogwarts, twelve year old Charlie Weasley was now, along with the rest of the Weasley clan, taking a family day together at the park. Thanks to his father's obsession, they were spending the day at a pretty Muggle park that Arthur had found several weeks before the end of the term.
The park itself was almost picturesque with it's large, intricate playground of metal and colorful plastic, well manicured lawns and trees that seemed to be designed just for climbing and dozens of picnic tables and benches scattered around and a shallow, decorative fountain off to one side. From the houses visible around the edges of the rather large park, it was in one of the upper-middle class Muggle neighborhoods. It was easy to see how Arthur could have loved a place like this; it seemed to be a combination of the Burrow and the Muggle world.
Glancing around for something to do, Charlie saw his older brother Bill attempting to chat up a couple of Muggle girls near his own age. Turning his attention further, he saw the twins chasing Ron around the playground. Judging by the shrieks coming from Ron, one of the twins seemed to have a spider on a stick he was brandishing at his younger brother. Continuing on, Charlie's gaze fell on Percy and he smiled slightly. Percy had removed his shoes and rolled up the legs of his pants and was carefully wading through a shallow fountain. Of course his precautions did nothing to keep him dry as he was holding the hands of their little sister Ginny as she splashed happily in the cool, clear water.
"Go on and play, Charlie. We'll call you when it's time for lunch."
Charlie turned to look over his shoulder, blushing slightly as he saw his mother and father snuggled together on a large, thick blanket and watching their children. "I was just trying to decide what to do first, mum." With a lopsided smile, Charlie ventured forth into the realm of the Muggle park.
Though initially joining Bill for a bit, his preteen efforts to capture the heart of one of the teen Muggle girls only earning him a few soft giggles and a look of amusement from his older brother, Charlie gave up that effort and decided to try his luck on the playground. After all, the bright construction of plastic and metal wasn't nearly as intimidating as the giggling girls had been...
He soon learned that the playground wasn't safe either. The twins had trapped Ron at the top of one of the slides and were confidently holding him captive while causing trouble for the two dozen or so other kids playing. Charlie only managed to try all the various ways of playing on the construct once each before he got tired of dodging screaming kids and quit the playground to venture forth and discover what interesting things could be found among the trees and plants. Maybe if he was lucky, he could carefully snag some poison ivy to stick in Bill's underwear drawer when he got home...
It was a bit after noon when he came across a little girl sitting all alone under a large weeping willow tree. While the tree itself was an enigma to Charlie, as he had never seen one actually weeping, the fact that a little girl about five, no more than six, was sitting all alone beneath one drew his curious attention. He slowly made his way toward the little girl, his head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. About fifteen feet away from her, he stopped and watched her for a bit.
The girl was wearing a pale blue summer dress, a white ribbon held her thick brown hair up into a ponytail and matching white sandals adorned her little feet. She was currently sitting on a rather large book for her age, presumably to keep from getting her pretty blue dress from getting dirty. The spine of the book, barely visible from beneath the blue material, seemed to say something about dragons.
As Charlie watched the little girl, she turned slightly, holding her hands carefully as a shimmering green dragonfly perched on her fingers. He watched her humming to herself as she pet the insect, the color changing from green to purple and then blue as he watched. She was a little witch!
Looking back over his shoulder to check on where his family currently was, Charlie's attention was broken by the sound of a young, piping voice.
"I won't bite, you know... You can come and pet my little dragon if you want."
Whirling, Charlie found himself lost in deep, intelligent pools of molten chocolate and a dazzlingly brilliant smile. Neither Charlie nor the little girl moved, eyes locked in a moment that was almost like recognition. It wasn't until a soft sighing sound was heard that the spell was broken and neither was certain just where the sound had come.
Giving the girl a nod, he walked slowly over and sat down on the grass near the girl, being careful not to make eye contact again as he carefully reached out a hand for the insect. The bug tolerated the foreign touch for only a moment before whatever spell the little witch had woven broke and it flew away.
The girl sighed wistfully. "I want to ride a real dragon one day." She told the boy, turning another captivating look upon the older boy.
Without thinking, Charlie nodded and, in a sudden moment of inspiration brought about by being trapped by her eyes once more, he made a solemn vow. "I'll make sure you do." It was his preteen ego and Gryffindor bravery that decided to add the next bit to that vow. "In fact, I'll find the best dragon just for you to fly." He gave the enchanting little girl a lopsided smile.
Squealing softly in delight, the girl rose from her perch atop the book and pressed her lips against his cheek. Instantly, Charlie turned red to the roots of his hair.
"Hermione!" The calling voice of a distant woman broke the moment. "Hermione! Its time to go home for lunch!"
Giving Charlie one last grin, never remembering to actually introduce herself to the boy, the girl, Hermione, jumped up. She grabbed her book about dragons and raced from beneath the swaying branches of the weeping willow and off toward the distant woman.
"Who was that?"
Charlie spun around, almost falling over as Bill's voice startled him. He stared at his brother with wide eyes for a moment before saying the first thing that managed to plow through his muddled thoughts. "She's mine." He blinked. "Er..."
Bill laughed outright at that. "Possessive much? I just wanted to know her name." He laughed some more. "Come on, lover boy. Lunch is ready."
The beet red Charlie stood, giving Bill a bit of a shove before heading back to their picnic.
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Some years later...
It was the Hogwarts Yule Ball, the Triwizard Tournament forgotten for the moment as the students and staff alike danced. Off to one side, currently staying out of the way as he munched on a treacle tart, a much older Charlie Weasley seemed to have lost all ability to move. There, across the dance floor, a girl in a pale blue dress had just entered the Hall.
As she looked around, eyes sparkling with delight at the reactions of her peers, their eyes met for just a moment and Charlie felt the familiar tingle of recognition. It was the same dazzling smile, the same pools of molten chocolate and he was lost once more. This time it was the oaf at her side that broke the momentary connection and Charlie slipped out of the Hall before it could happen again.
He smiled to himself as he walked toward the edge of the school's grounds, plans starting to form in his mind now that he had found his little dragon girl once more. Two soft words filled with promise whispered in the wind just before he vanished into the night.
"She's mine..."
-TBC-
A/N: No, I have absolutely no intentions of making a sequel to this one! No more one-shot series from me! It was just something that came to mind and rolled off my fingers at the spur of the moment.