AN: Here is more of this story, a Part 2. I'm continuing it instead of publishing a sequel. Let me know if you like it. As always, HEA is guaranteed.
Hermione Granger Weasley had wondered if going back to her office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would be a relief after months of field research in the Carpathian mountains. It was convenient to have somewhere dry to sit and write. And while she did not miss the smell of brimstone wafting up from the dragon paddocks, her Ministry office was definitely lacking something. She knew exactly what it was: Charlie.
They had worked together every day for most of the year, all through their odd but oddly perfect marriage and courtship in Romania. Back in Britain, he was out of her sight, at her parents' old house across town, putting the final touches on the Pensieve he was crafting out of raw stone, enjoying what was left of his leave from the dragon sanctuary.
Only, since Hermione had gone back to the office, he wasn't enjoying his days alone in London at all. As she passed her first coffee break of the day, a cup of weak herbal tea in her hands, staring morosely at a wall, no windows to look out of in a Ministry housed completely underground, the door of her office opened. It was Charlie himself. He entered a little sheepishly, grinning but with his head hanging down, as if slightly embarrassed to have come running after her so soon.
Not embarrassed at all, Hermione jumped to her feet. "Charlie!"
But she wobbled as she rose, nearly falling, and he dashed toward her, catching her sloshing teacup before she spilled it all over herself, like the world class seeker he could have been. He set it down on her desk as quickly as he'd caught it.
He had her in his arms, steadying her, warning her. "Darling, pregnant people can't get up so quickly," he said as she focused her eyes on his face. "The baby affects your blood pressure and you can easily faint."
"Is that what it is?" she said, nestling into him as he held her.
"Yes," Charlie said. "On its own, a little low blood pressure is nothing dangerous. But if it makes you scald yourself with hot tea or fall and hit your head it could be a disaster."
She hummed and rocked in his arms. "My tea had already gone cold. And you've been reading that book Percy sent over, haven't you. That Wizards' What to Expect."
"Yeah, that's it," Charlie said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I thought you were reading up on everything to do with pregnancy too. You've got that huge stack of books in the bedroom."
"Oh, I am. But so far my interest has been mostly academic," she said. "I mean to get to the practical parts but all the biological and chemical details are so fascinating. Not to mention the magical ones. I'm a veritable potions lab of hormones right now. Can you tell?"
He gave a low laugh as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Actually? Yes."
"What else does Percy's pregnancy guide say?" she said, smiling archly at him, nose to nose. "Does it tell you my back will be sore if I sit for too long and you'll need to come to my office to massage it for me at least twice a day?"
Charlie clucked his tongue. "It might say something like that. It did teach me some massage techniques, at any rate." His hands began to knead and smooth the muscles around her lower spine.
She hadn't realized how truly stiff she was until she started to melt into his hands. Her eyes drifted shut. "That is lovely. Stars bless Percy, conscientious husband, father, and brother-in-law that he is."
"You're in a good mood now, aren't you? Feeling strong?" Charlie asked. "I hope so, because the truth is I've come with some disappointing news."
Hermione's eyes flung themselves open. "What? Is it Ela? Or her hatchling? Or Harry - is it Harry?"
"No, the dragons and chosen ones are all fine. My news is just an annoyance," Charlie said, stopping his massaging and guiding her back into her chair. "I told you the Pensieve would be complete enough for me to test it this morning, remember? Yeah, so I went and gave it a go with one of my own memories, a lovely one, thank you."
"You didn't - "
"I did. And you'll be happy to know it works perfectly. But when I tested it further, taking a look at the memories Harry brought back from that manor library, when he did that research for you on opal-eye dragon tears - well, I don't know what he was thinking, but he made the memories while looking through the books without his glasses."
Hermione chirped a protest. "What? Are you sure?"
Charlie sighed. "Yes, quite sure. I stopped on the Aurors' floor and asked him about it myself before I came here. He thought that since you don't wear specs, he'd better not expect you to read a memory made through lenses, so he took them off. Apparently, that's not how it works."
"Why in the stars would he think that? Harry Potter," she dropped her head into her hands, remembering a hundred other times she'd sent him off on errands only to have them bungled. "Some things never change. I suppose he's sorry."
"Terribly sorry," Charlie said. "And willing to make it up to you by going back to what's-his-name's manor."
"Malfoy," she said.
"Right."
Hermione was still shaking her head. She let out a groan. "I can't do that to Harry. He hated going over there. And Ginny wasn't keen on it either. No, I'll meet with Malfoy myself."
Charlie dropped to a crouch in front of her chair. "Let Harry go for you, love. Don't worry about Ginny, she loves the drama. You, on the other hand - that Malfoy house is the place where Bellatrix Lestrange held you prisoner. There's no need for you to ever go there again."
She held his face, kissed the end of his long, fine Weasley nose. "I'll ask someone from the Malfoy household to meet me somewhere neutral. I don't want to go back either. Believe me."
"It's not just the house," Charlie pressed.. "What about seeing that bloke Malfoy himself? Will that be upsetting?"
Her reassuring smile faltered a little. "That depends entirely on him. It always has. But you needn't worry about the mere sight of Draco Malfoy sending me into a panic. He was in the room when Bellatrix Lestrange had me pinned to the floor, and I actually coped with the horror of everything by making him my focal point in between attacks. In third year I slapped him so hard he ran scurrying for cover. No, he was never more than I could handle. Honestly, that day with Bellatrix Lestrange, Draco Malfoy was the most harmless thing in the room. And he'd already tried to play stupid so they'd let us go. The fact that he could still be like that, in spite of all the pressure he was under - it felt almost like hope. And as it turned out, it was."
Charlie pulled her onto his lap where he sat on the floor in front of her chair. "Aren't you amazing, looking for the good in someone even in the teeth of a nightmare like that?"
She laid her mouth against his throat as she spoke. "I'm not amazing, just healing."
He lifted her chin with his finger, raising her face to speak into her lips. "Who says those can't be the same thing?"
Hermione had never kissed anyone in her office before. She had been working in a shared area when she was with Ron, so she never had the privacy or, frankly, the desire to do it. The Ministry was her territory so Charlie held back, making sure she took the lead, deciding for herself how they could act here. But it was hard for her to be thoughtful with him so close, especially after their first morning apart.
She sealed her mouth to his. In this place, the kiss felt slightly dangerous, not quite allowed, and it made her feel daring, free, and powerful. The heat of it overtook her and the kiss deepened, Charlie happily following her lead, tilting his head as she combed her fingers into his hair. It pleased him enough to loose a low, contented sound from his throat as he kissed her in return, crushing her against himself, the baby still invisible between them.
She was speaking again as his kisses moved along her jawline, toward her ear. "All day long, I've missed you so much, Charlie."
He breathed a laugh, thrilling as she purred his name. "It's half ten in the morning."
"That's it exactly," she said, tipping her head back, shivering as he read her signal and kissed her neck. "I can't stand slogging away in here, underground, all by myself. You've spoiled me. Let's go back to the dragon sanctuary."
He raised his head, smirking, knowing she was playing, fantasizing about running away. "Back to the Carpathians, so our baby can be born outside our home country, with only old Doamna Marius as a midwife, hollering at us in Hungarian?"
She sighed. "I know. For now, we need to stay here, of course. We need proper antenatal care and to stay where I can finish my report and have the resources I need to find out if baby opal eye dragon tears can restore my parents' memories."
Still holding her, Charlie stood up. "Right. So I'll stop debauching you in your workplace and leave you to it then. Dad wants me to pick up something for him in a Muggle shop today anyway. He trusts me with that sort of thing after I've managed to live in your parents' house without electrocuting myself all these weeks."
She smoothed her hair and clothes as she let go of him, moving to sit behind her desk again. "Dear old Arthur."
"Shall I come back for lunch?" Charlie said as he took hold of the doorknob.
Hermione sighed for the last time that morning. "No, I'll eat at my desk so I can come home sooner."
With a smile and a nod, Charlie was on his way, and Hermione was reaching for a parchment to pen a message to Malfoy Manor.
Charlie left through the Ministry Floos, emerging in an exhaust port on the back of a cafe in a laneway in Chelsea. Arthur had told him wizard clothing would be inconspicuous in this neighbourhood but it was a Monday morning, and it took a fair bit of poise for Charlie to move through the streets without feeling self-conscious. He nodded pleasantly at whoever looked at him for too long. He managed his dad's errand, picking up a glass orb with a metal cup on one end.
"Light bulb?" Charlie had read off a scrap of parchment Arthur had sent him as he stepped up to the shop's counter.
The clerk had handed it over politely enough, even when Charlie couldn't answer the question of what wattage he preferred. Only when Charlie offered the heavy pouch of Muggle coins Arthur had given him to use as payment did the clerk seem annoyed, dumping them out to count them.
In the street, with the light bulb safely stowed in a pocket, Charlie headed back toward the exhaust pipe to Floo to the Burrow. He was nearly there when a voice called out to him. It was loud but quavering, high and pretty, with a posh accent, but sounding distinctly uncomposed, even scared.
"Excuse me, sir," it said. "But did you school with Salazar?"
He froze on the spot, turning to look at the speaker. She was a tall woman, no older than Hermione, dark-haired and pale-complected. And she had spoken a line that was like a password for British wizards when in Muggle society. It was a way for them to identify each other when they were in need of help.
Immediately, Charlie recognized the distress call. He nodded, blue eyes wide, reciting his scripted reply. "Not with Salazar, but with Godric."
The witch raised a hand, groping the wall of the building at her side. "That will do well enough," she said, her voice no longer loud and commanding, but breathless.
Charlie rushed toward her, his arms extended, catching her as she started to slump along the wall, falling to her knees. He hoisted her upright. "Madam?" he said. "Are you alright?'
She pushed against his chest, trying to centre her weight over her feet again. "I-I'm not sure," she said. "I'm-my husband and I-we're…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes rolled back.
"Hey," Charlie said, shaking her gently. "Stay awake. Hey. It's alright. Who's your husband? Where is he? What's your name?"
Her head lolled, and she muttered something. It must have been a name.
"Esther?" Charlie repeated. "Your name is Esther?"
"St. Mungo's," she said, uninterested in any more introductions. "St. Mungo's please. Hurry, before another one is gone."
Charlie held Esther's feet off the ground as he swooped into the laneway with her and apparated to the hospital. By the time they arrived, her eyes were closed and she wouldn't answer him when he called her name anymore.
"Someone help us!" he shouted as he charged through the false glass front of St. Mungo's.
Medi-witches and wizards led him to a cot and had him lay Esther down on it. "What's wrong with her?" the lead witch asked as her assistants conjured curtains all around them.
"I've no idea," Charlie said, standing back to make room as the witch produced a diagnostic wand and flourished it over the length of Esther's body. In his line of work, Charlie had been injured and hospitalized enough times himself to know the flourish would have reverberated through every cell of Esther's body. It wasn't painful, but it was shocking and Esther moaned at it.
The medi-witch clucked her tongue. "Step up and take her hand, for stars' sake. She's terrified, and rightly so," she scolded Charlie.
He obeyed. Esther's fingers sprang to life at his touch, squeezing his hand in return with surprising strength.
"You're the father?" the medi-witch said.
Charlie blinked hard, confused. "A father? Yes, I will be in a few months."
At this the medi-witch's hard face cracked with sympathy, pausing to take in the sight of the strong, handsome man holding the beautiful young woman by the hand as she suffered. "I do hope so," the witch said. "We'll see what we can do." Her head jerked up, barking orders at her underlings. "Get her undressed."
Charlie dropped Esther's hand. "Wait. Let me give her some privacy," he said, scrambling for the door as the medi-witches unlaced Esther's delicate leather boots.
"Where do you think you're going?" the lead witch called after him. "It's too late for you to back out now. Stay with her and bear your responsibilities properly."
"What do you-no, I shouldn't be here," Charlie protested. "No, I just met this woman when she fainted in the street. She doesn't know me."
"But you said you're the father," the witch frowned.
"No, I'm going to be A father, not THE father," Charlie said. "She is married to someone else. I know that much. Check her identification. You might be able to find an address for her husband."
The witch gave a grave nod. "Yes, I think we'd better. You can be on your way, sir." She waved her hand at a tall, burly medi-wizard and he rounded on Charlie, escorting him out of the room.
"Yes, of course," Charlie was saying. "But-wait." He ducked around the large medi-wizard. "Can you tell me if she's going to be alright?"
"She will be fine," the witch called over the head of the medi-wizard. "The pregnancy, on the other hand - well, we'll do what we can, as I said. Unless you're family, I can't tell you anything else. Good day, sir."
Charlie stood outside the closed door of the hospital room. He felt like he hadn't breathed in hours. There was a chair set outside the door, across the corridor, and he fell into it, holding his head in his hands, barely believing what had just happened. Glass crunched inside the pocket of his robes, his father's new light bulb crushed to pieces. A witch in healer's robes arrived and went into Esther's room without even glancing at him. It was time to leave. He could always contact the hospital later to make sure Esther was alright. But for now, he had no place here.
Feeling heavy, Charlie made his way back to the entrance of the hospital. He felt awful, not as bad as he did the day Fred died-nothing so strong-but the feeling had the same flavour as that. It was grief for what Esther was losing behind the closed door.
He was almost at the glass wall, about to leave St. Mungo's when a tall, thin man came striding through the wall directly in front of him. Neither of them was paying close attention to their surroundings and their shoulders collided hard as they passed one another. On impact, Charlie swayed but kept his footing while the other man staggered as he barely kept himself from falling. Even then, he didn't look back but kept racing toward the urgent care desk. Charlie did look back at the man, elegant even as he stumbled, dressed all in black, his billowing cloak a stark contrast to his head of gleaming, white-blond hair.
By the time Charlie was home again, Hermione was there too, back early after working through lunch, as promised. She was standing, folding clean laundry with her wand at the kitchen table, no risk of fainting when he appeared. She smiled at him but he didn't return it, his face set in a painfully serious expression.
"Good. You're home," he said, stepping up behind her, his hands on her stomach as he pulled her back against his front, his face in her hair, sighing heavily.
"Charlie?" she said, beginning to turn.
But he held her in place, the palm on his hand on the almost imperceptible new swell of her abdomen. "Let me hold you both like this for a moment," he whispered into her ear from over her shoulder.
She set her wand on the table and covered his hands with hers. "Did you miss us?" she purred.
Something like a shudder ran through him. "Tell me you're alright."
"Of course I am," she said, serious herself now.
"And the baby?" he said, slowly, softly. "They're okay too?"
"Yes, the baby's fine," she said, finally turning to face him, narrowing her eyes to read his face as his heart beat hard against her palm. "There's nothing to worry about. We're fine. What's happened to you?"
"Can we check on the baby? Now?" he said. "I found a spell that lets us hear the baby's heartbeat whenever we want. It wasn't in Percy's book. I had to find one in a professional healing manual. Please, I just-I can't be at ease until I hear it."
She nodded, eager to see the new spell, and to see him smile again. His hand was pressed to the small of her back, his wand between them. Slowly, he pronounced the spell. A golden flame flared low over Hermione's abdomen. It swirled around itself, resolving into a cloudy orb as it began to pulse. As the golden light brightened, a sound grew louder, the quick beat of a tiny heart.
The shadow of panic cleared from Charlie's face. "There they are." He raised his wand and the orb floated up, past their faces and above their heads.
Hermione saw the light reflected in Charlie's eyes, and she gave a gentle laugh and ruffled his hair. "Yes, there they are, right where you left them." She tilted her head, beaming, admiring the flashing gold as it ran its course and dissipated into the air. "That is beautiful magic, darling. Just as good as any certified midwife's. Thank you for finding it. Is that what's kept you busy all day?"
He swallowed hard enough for her to see it in his throat. "Not all day," he said. And he told her everything he could about Astoria Malfoy, the woman whose name he had misheard as Esther.