The Locked Room
Chapter 3: Research
Love can be considered as a series of chemical reactions. The pupils in your eyes widen 45 when you look at something pleasing, your heart rate increases as a result of endorphins released when you see the person you are amorous of, and the list goes on. Hermione knew all of this. She had simply forgotten it that evening. This is the reason why Ron's confession of love for her seemed a lot more serious than Ginny's implications earlier in the evening. Hermione was standing there frozen in a ponderous attitude. In the midst of trying to puzzle out why Ron telling her that he was in love with her suddenly wasn't something to laugh off, she heard someone yelling in her general direction.
"Well say SOMETHING!" Ron shouted.
"I can't," was all that came out. Hermione remembered that she had been twirling around the kitchen earlier. She never just started twirling around anywhere! The concept of Hermione twirling used to be inconceivable. Now it had practically incited this whole fiasco of Ron standing dumbstruck in the kitchen, and Hermione standing there equally agog with disbelief.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I mean I don't know."
"Don't know what?"
"I just don't know what to say. I have to get out of here." With that, Hermione pushed her way into her bedroom, just as Harry came groggily stumbling out of his. Hastily grabbing whatever clothes she could lay her hands on and tossing them into a bag, she gathered everything into her arms and disapparated to the Burrow.
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Tuesday morning. Before she was aware of it, Charlie Perkins had sat down on her desk and was talking to her.
"You look seriously preoccupied," he told her.
"Well that's perfectly true," she answered. "I can't stop thinking about the supposed love locked up in that room." This wasn't the entire truth. It was true that she couldn't stop thinking about love, but it wasn't locked in any room – it was everywhere she went, at work, at the flat, at the Burrow. Ron's declaration hadn't ceased to amaze her whenever she thought about it, which was constantly. She refused to be anything but shocked by it, because love wasn't something she was fully able to contemplate. "Think about it from a Muggle's perspective. Muggle doctors have been trying to pin down the anatomical reasons for love for ages, trying to manipulate it, find out which foods stimulate it, find out which scents attract certain people and so on."
"You're telling me that the only reason I'm attracted to you is because you smell good?"
"Well these doctors have proved that certain so-called pheromones produced by our bodies give us an attractive scent to some people, but – what did you just say?"
"You heard me," he said grinning widely at her. She heard him, and didn't hear the knock on the door.
"Hermione!"
"Hm? What is it, Marie?"
"We are attempting to have a department staff meeting, if you and Mr. Perkins would care to join us," she said, looking severe yet coldly beautiful with her long black hair pulled back as she gazed between the two of them disdainfully.
"Yes, your Majesty," Hermione mumbled. Behind her, Charlie snickered.
Seated in the meeting room, the Time Room department was huddled around the small circular table. Marie was holding court at the opposite end of where Hermione and Charlie sat.
"Who declared her Queen, anyway?" Charlie asked Hermione in a hot whisper. His breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine and choked the laugh that would have come out much too loudly.
"I think she followed Napoleon's example and took the reins herself."
"We are starting a new project tomorrow," Marie droned on. After being lulled into a groggy stupor, Hermione jolted when Charlie placed a hand on her lower back.
"Listen, I know some people in other departments on this floor, and I thought I'd have them round to my place for drinks, are you game? I thought we could ask them if they knew anything about our locked room." His hand was still on her back as she nodded slowly, looking at him intensely. She almost had to slap herself to be able to turn her head back to a disgruntled-looking Marie and her projects, and stop picturing Charlie's head leaning in towards hers.
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That evening, Hermione decided something. It was final – she had nothing to wear. And, to make matters worse…
"Hermione, please come back to the flat." It was Ron – outside Ginny's room where she was trying to get dressed. It was impossible to escape him! She could have gone home to her parents she supposed, but it just wasn't comfortable being there with people who still checked to make sure she had flossed her bicuspids.
"Ron, go home."
"I am home!"
"I meant, back to the flat."
"I don't see why you need to run away; all I said was I-" Hermione quickly opened the door.
"I know what you said, and you don't need to repeat it. Please, Ron, just let me have a little space to think about things. I'm late already," she said anxiously. Her stomach was up in knots and it wasn't because of Ron.
The note she received tonight was intriguing.
Sweet Lady, an Enamored Gentleman seeks your company again this evening at nine o'clock at the following address. Long Live the Queen!
His address followed, and Hermione worried about how she would arrive there without knowing what the place looked like. She would just visualize Charlie when she was trying to apparate. Hopefully that would work, she thought, adjusting herself and fretting in the mirror about the reference to Marie in the note. Destination, Determination, Deliberation, she thought, picturing Charlie and unwittingly conjuring a picture of herself in his arms. With a pop and a squishing sensation, Hermione found herself in a rather difficult situation. There was a crashing sound of glass on the carpet and she found her arms wrapped around the neck of one stunned Charlie Perkins, managing to hold on to her despite the shock of finding Hermione Granger draped elegantly in his arms.
"Hello, has the honeymoon started already?" he asked her, still holding her aloft. Turning one shade of red after another, Hermione whimpered something incomprehensible.
"Would you mind putting me down?" she asked timidly.
"Well…" he ruminated on the question, "I suppose…"
"I'm afraid I didn't know where your flat was so I just pictured you in my head, and here I am," she explained rather quickly. He watched her admiringly.
"Didn't you get my note?"
"Well yes, but it was all very confusing, and I only just escaped-"
"What, escaped again? You're turning out to be quite the damsel in distress."
"Yes, I know. One needs to do escaping if you're staying at the Weasley's house, or any place a Weasley inhabits."
"Aren't you living with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?" he asked, repairing the broken wine glass on the carpet.
"Yes, I was, but I needed to get out of the flat – go someplace with a little less testosterone."
"There you go with all of your anatomical jargon again. Well never mind all of that, I have invited a few people of interest to us both. A couple people who apparently work in the brain room, two from the Hall of Prophecy, the guard of the Death Chamber, and a couple from our department, including the Queen herself."
"I thought so!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yes, and I've also invited a few friends just so it wouldn't seem as though we were having a little Department of Mysteries powwow. Clever, aren't I?"
"Tremendously," Hermione beamed at him. She was eager to talk to each of these people, and Charlie's company this evening was nothing short of exceptionally pleasing, considering what she had left behind at the Burrow. Thinking of all of this, she felt something on her cheek – Charlie's lips.
"Thanks for the compliment, and for being so adorable," he said close to her. An electric shock went through Hermione's entire body, weakening her knees and softening her voice.
"It's nothing," she breathed, barely audible. Charlie gave her one of his jaw-dropping grins and sauntered into the kitchen.
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One by one, the guests arrived in the spacious flat Hermione had forgotten to notice earlier. It must have been true what the twins had said about Charlie's family having a lot of money. She knew Ministry pay wouldn't support this place. Marie was there, true to his word, along with people she had never seen at work, although they supposedly worked on the same floor. To her amazement, Fred and George showed up with Angelina and Katie who greeted Charlie like a brother. After Hermione shot Charlie an enquiring look, he explained.
"Well, Katie's my cousin actually, and I asked if she wanted to bring some friends along, knowing she was dating George Weasley. I'm sorry if they were the Weasleys you were trying to escape," he added, but received a warm look of appreciation from Hermione, who immediately gravitated towards her friends.
"Hermione!" the twins shouted and clapped her on the back. "What's this I hear about you moving into our house?" Fred asked.
"Ron and I had a row and I needed somewhere else to stay," she explained. All four of them shook their heads at her. "What?" she asked them.
"When will you two stop rowing and just snog already?" Angelina asked, much to Hermione's astonishment. The others started laughing uproariously.
"The woman has a point, Hermione," Fred grinned. "There have been some heavy looks sent your way from dear old Ronniekins."
"How do I miss all of this and you lot know everything!" was the infuriated response complete with sputtering, and was met with more laughter. "Has it ever occurred to any of you that I might not care about Ronald that way?"
"No," said four voices simultaneously.
"Well then, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to seek out some intelligent company," she declared haughtily. More laughter followed her as she stalked off to join Charlie's group near the fireplace.
"Ah, there you are," was the pleased greeting of the beautiful boy as Hermione nudged her way gently into the milieu. "Hermione Granger, this is…" she didn't hear the names as Charlie was massaging her hand behind the other's backs.
BREAK
It was sometime around four in the morning when Hermione heard the last "pop" and she and Charlie were alone in his apartment. She was huddled underneath a few blankets near the fire, and soon Charlie had nudged her elbow for her to shift over.
Hermione hadn't been listening to anything the others had been saying. There were too many things going on in her head that demanded attention. The others had said that she and Ron liked each other – that she liked him at that very moment, which was the reason for their row. Hermione wasn't sure why she was so unsettled at the thought that Ron loved her. She didn't like thinking about it, therefore it was easier to just avoid it altogether. Usually when she was confused she would turn to Ron as an escape from thought, which was why not thinking about him just brought him into sharper focus. She needed a hug from Ron and advice from Harry, and the only place to find that was at the flat.
"It has certainly been a very enlightening evening," Charlie declared, nestling in closer to her, making her feel a little too uncomfortable. He was soft, and he smelled wonderful. The firelight was glinting in his eyes beneath a mess of touchable curly hair.
"Was it? I'm afraid I was still preoccupied."
"Well, I'll get you up to speed then. It was enlightening in the sense that none of those people knew anything about the locked room, and we have tapped the extent of Marie's knowledge on the subject that first day. In addition to all of this, I have had an amusing conversation with Fred and George Weasley, along with Angelina and Katie." Hermione's head dipped onto his shoulder and she gripped his upper arm.
"What did they tell you about me?" she asked with resignation.
"They think you have feelings for a certain relative of theirs." Hermione could only sigh. Thinking about Ron she had to smile. There was too much between them for Ron not to be one of the men she was most comfortable with, the others comprising (at the moment) Harry, Charlie, and her father.
"I don't know what to do, Charlie. I think I should go home." Suddenly, she wasn't sure what she wanted to happen between herself and Charlie. Confusion had set in and dampened her desires all around. She got up and moved to where she had laid her bag.
"Don't go yet," he said, still sitting there, "I know that was a sneaky way of trying to find out your feelings for me, but I don't want to scare you away."
"Wait, they were talking to you about Katie's relative?"
"Being me, yeah."
"What did they say exactly?"
"They said they thought you had feelings for a relation of one of the people present. Because I was there, I thought they were teasing me about you. Hermione, I do like you – quite a lot actually, so there's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Listen, Charlie, I do like you, but I've only known you for two days. I just need to figure things out."
"There isn't anything to figure out, Hermione. I like you, and you like me." He was standing close to her, towering over her unintentionally. "In situations like these there is usually only one thing to figure out: who's going to kiss who first."
Hermione looked up at him innocently.
"The first and last person I kissed was Viktor Krum," she whispered.
"Well then it's high time you were kissed again," he said close to her mouth. His lips were so very soft and the pressure so achingly tender that Hermione would probably have collapsed were it not for his hands wrapped around the small of her back. She felt his tongue on her lips and she gratefully let him in. Thinking back on it later, Hermione agreed that Charlie's kiss far surpassed Viktor's, famous Quidditch player or not.