Charlie came bounding down the stairs of his in-laws' house, pulling a fresh T-shirt that smelled like nothing but laundry potion over his head.
"Hermione, wait," he was calling as he vaulted over the back of the sofa on his way to stop her from disappearing alone through the Floo.
"I will not," she said, waiting anyway. "If you can't properly manage Astoria Malfoy when she makes a pass at you, I'll do it myself."
"I did manage her," Charlie protested. "She went home ashamed of herself. And don't speak as if I can't take a firm hand with a Malfoy when needed."
She scoffed. "Wrestling Draco to the ground is completely different than comforting Astoria when she hurts her own feelings on your honour. No, Draco enjoys a firm hand, he begs for it. Astoria, though - she is begging for me to give her some handling she certainly will not enjoy."
Desperate to avoid any such thing, Charlie summoned the tin of Floo powder from the mantle just as Hermione was about to open it.
"Charlie!"
"I'm sorry, love," he said, pocketing the tin. "But I really don't think you should go storming into the manor like this. You're still too upset. Tell Astoria off all you want, but don't do it in anger."
Hermione stomped one foot on the hearth. "I'm not sure you understand what it means to tell someone off. Doing it in anger is entirely the point!"
He was approaching her with both hands extended, palms open and facing the floor, as if advancing on an irate dragon. "Fine, be angry. You're right, it's not my way. And I didn't think it was yours either, but - "
"Right! It is not my way!" she bawled at him as he continued to inch toward her. "Most days I am reason itself, author of the best-laid plans. But not on the night when someone has come around to throw herself at my husband. Tonight I am Harry Potter himself, no plan, running off in a frenzy of love to protect the best thing I have ever had in my life!"
Charlie had come near enough to take her in his arms, holding her as close as he could. "Ah, love," he said as she began to sob into his shoulder. "We are safe. Forever and everywhere, even when you're not here. I protect what we have too, with all my strength. It's enough, I promise. You're far more than enough for me."
Hermione's arms clenched around his waist as her tears intensified. "Did she even say sorry?" she hiccoughed against him.
He shook his head. "I can't be sure she did."
"And you told her you weren't angry and let her leave with no negative consequences?" she said, her voice rising again.
"I did, because - well, because I actually wasn't angry," he confessed. "Embarrassed, yes. And sad for her, and for Draco. But angry?"
Hermione stood back, looking up into his face, searching it for something. She nodded, sniffing against her tears. "Charlie Weasley, second born after the ever-confident Bill, before peevish Percy, the monster twins, and the never-confident Ronald. This is how you found your way in a family of personalities like that. You get along, no revenge. No howlers, no fisticuffs with Lucius Malfoy in bookshops, no beetle animagi trapped in bottles - "
"What? You lost me at beetles."
She shook her head, clearing the last of the tears away. "Another time. What I mean to say right now is that you learned in your family to let things go when no one else would. Everyone's pet brother, that's our Charlie." She raised her hand, smoothed her palm against his cheek. "It's why you're the best of them. Learning to free myself from holding grudges was part of what I wanted when I came to you in Romania in the first place. That and these arms."
Charlie laughed quietly, as she settled herself between his arms again. "I didn't care why you were coming. I just wanted you there."
"Content with your brother's leavings - "
He shushed her. "I had nothing to stomach past in coming to you. Once I knew you were sure about me, I snapped you right up into staying married, didn't I? I don't think I ever settled on anything so quickly in my life. Better than the best dragon." He had found the end of her muffler and was uncoiling it from around her neck. "You are what I want, what I adore. It's more true now than ever."
Hermione's hand covered his, stopping the uncoiling of her scarf. "I believe you, my darling. And I'm going to Malfoy Manor to have it out with Astoria anyway."
Charlie sighed, stepping back, letting it go, offering her the tin of Floo powder.
Hermione grasped his hand as she took the tin. "Don't you see that I have to go to her?" she said. "For that newly conceived baby's sake, for Draco's, for her undeserving sake as well, we have to see if we can repair our trust and make the Gravida Sympatico spell work after all. And that starts with getting her to apologize properly. If we can't do that, then the Malfoys will have another tragedy like the one that started all of this. Angry as I am, I feel like I have to do everything I can to avoid that."
He sighed again, more deeply than ever, relieved she was still willing to consider the spell in spite of everything. "Right. I'll come with you."
"I don't know, Charlie - "
She was interrupted by frantic, shaking pounding at the front door. Charlie took her hand, nudging her behind him, drawing his wand as they advanced toward the pounding.
The racket didn't stop until the door was open and Draco Malfoy was throwing himself inside, each of his arms hooked around each of their necks, his head thrust into the space between theirs, collapsing on them.
"Weasleys! Thank the stars you're here," he said. "I'm a total wreck."
"What's happened?" Hermione asked as Charlie pried Draco off of her, steadying him on his feet.
He looked to Charlie. "You've told her?"
"Of course."
"Then after all of that, it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that..." Draco couldn't finish, pausing to gulp a breath, his complexion alarmingly pallid. "Astoria - I've left her."
Draco had come inside the Grangers' house, flopped down on the sofa where hours before his wife had tackled Hermione's husband, and said nothing more until he'd drank every drop of the cup of mild calming tea Charlie had brought him.
"Are you feeling better yet?" Hermione asked, flipping the cool washcloth she had given him to lay across his forehead as he stared dead-eyed at the ceiling.
Her movement made him blink. "No," he groaned. "But now that I've told you our news, I'd better head over to Goyle's for the night. He said I could stay there for as long as I need to."
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said. "Goyle will give you nothing but alcohol to help you through this. And that is not what you need. You're staying here with us."
From the kitchen doorway, Charlie raised his eyebrows.
Draco groaned again. "Granger and her compassion for pathetic creatures turns her eye on me once again," he said.
"If only you weren't so consistently pathetic," she countered.
He seemed grateful for the teasing, almost smiling. It was normal, like something other than the end of the world.
"Fair enough," he said. "But I can't impose on you like that. In a place the size of the Goyle family manor I won't even see anyone unless they come looking for me. But here," he waved a hand around the small lounge. "In this house, I'll be constantly in your way."
"Nonsense, you can stay in my room," Hermione said.
Draco was the one raising his eyebrows now.
"My OLD room," she said, rolling her eyes. "By yourself. Charlie and I sleep across the hall. You'll have your own bathroom and everything. Just mind you don't get any water in the electrical sockets or all your worries will be over tout de suite. You'll find plenty of fresh towels in the cupboard."
"Are you hearing this, Weasley?" Draco said, sitting up and letting the damp cloth fall from his forehead. "Your missus is inviting me to stay in your Muggle love nest with you."
Charlie answered with an uneasy grunt. "Seems like the least I could do, considering…"
"Oh, stop. I don't blame you for the unpleasantness, Weasley," Draco said, tossing the washcloth at him. "And you needn't worry about me having the wrong idea about what happened here today. Astoria showed me the whole scene in our Pensieve. You'll have watched Charlie's memory too, eh Hermione?"
She gave a high pitched huff. "No, actually, I haven't. I don't want the first memory I see in the Pensieve my husband handcrafted for me as a wedding present to be some tart - " She bit back the rest.
It was too late. Draco was already cringing, his head falling into his hands.
Charlie sat beside him, crowding him, nudging him with his shoulder because, as Hermione knew well, nothing connected with Draco Malfoy like physical contact. "Look mate, if you're miserable without her you can always go back to Astoria whenever you want. Come on, Malfoy. Don't punish yourself, sleeping in guest rooms alone when all you want is to cuddle up and forgive her."
Draco slumped sideways against him. "Punish - that's it, isn't it? I hate it, but Astoria needs to face some kind of painful consequence for what happened before she can truly be forgiven. I saw the whole thing, Weasley. You were far too kind about it."
Hermione muttered something about how she knew it without seeing it. "Well, then let me go and scold her. I'd be happy to," she said.
Draco fell on his side on the sofa, away from Charlie's direction. "Don't tempt me with that. It won't even work, not on any deep level. Astoria will be sitting there right now, prim and innocent looking as you please in the library, watching the Floo, waiting for her scolding."
He had tried to sneer through the description but his face was already taking on a soft, sentimental look. "She will have already prepared herself to weather it, her inner defenses all set in place to shield her from any real damage. But at my leaving - she was shocked. I could hardly muster the determination to apparate out the manor, leaving her there to get lonelier and sorrier by the minute. Especially now that she's…"
He couldn't finish, his hands over his eyes, groaning louder than ever. "I left them alone, both of them, my family."
Charlie pulled on Draco's arm, sitting him upright again so Hermione could sit on the other side of him on the sofa.
"So you do plan on going back," she said.
Draco nodded. "After these consequences wear on for a few days, yes. She needs to be properly cared for."
Hermione glanced nervously over Draco's rounded back, catching Charlie's eye. "About that," she said, gently as she could. "What if this pregnancy goes the same as all the others and it - um - ceases to be a factor in the next few days? Will you still want to go back?"
Draco threw himself against the back of the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling again. "Yes, of course. Astoria - she's a spoiled brat but she's mine. I know there are rumours our match was arranged by our parents but it's not true. Messy as it is, I love it. We're just as in love as the pair of you."
The Weasleys exchanged more skeptical glances from across the sofa.
"Do you know how we met? No, of course you don't." Draco shut his eyes. "It was the first time I'd been out since my father had gone to jail for the second time. It was Daphne Greengrass's wedding to that Italian bloke. And with our assets still frozen at the time, Mum said we had to go to keep them happy in case they decided to call in a loan of ours - "
"Sorry, how is this not an arranged marriage story?" Charlie interrupted.
"Because Astoria was supposed to be spending the evening falling in love with someone else," Draco raved. "He was a cousin of the groom's, brought in from the continent as a match for Astoria. They were paired up in the bridal party, both dressed in white and this odd mauve with baby's breath everywhere. I still remember his name: Lorenzo." Draco rolled the R for far too long.
"You know the ploy," he went on. "He was some fresh meat to put nasty associations with war-families behind the 'neutral' Greengrassses. That couldn't have backfired more spectacularly for my dear in-laws." He indulged in a little joyless laughter at this.
Hermione shoved him sideways. "So what happened? Your eyes met across a crowded room? A duel with Lorenzo?"
"No, she punched me in the face herself," Draco smirked.
Hermione scoffed so loud it was nearly a shout. "She did not."
"No, of course she didn't," Draco bawled back at her. "Astoria is a civilized person."
"So what DID happen," Charlie said, breaking into their ridiculous banter.
Draco cleared his throat. "We stumbled into each other hiding in the library while all the dancing went on in the ballroom. I knew who she was from school and - well, everyone knows who I am. That was precisely why I was so uncomfortable being out of the manor again after so long. But she spoke to me anyway. And I got past that ghastly mauve and saw what was the loveliest woman ever."
He raked his fingers through his hair. "It might have been an awkward meeting, both of us surprised, our hiding places spoiled. But she - Astoria is the same person as me and so she approached me with drama, with make believe. She said, 'Good evening, sir. I'm Miss Astoria and I welcome you to the Greengrass library. What are you looking for tonight?' And all at once, for the first time in years, I was myself again. I gave her my best single eyebrow raise and answered, 'Something rare and beautiful.'"
Charlie snorted. "She went for that?"
"Went for it?" Draco was raving again. "It was the part she all but wrote for me. I played it perfectly for her. She led me 'round the library suggesting books. Saying things like, 'Here's a mystery novel, Mr. Malfoy. Do you like mystery?' And me answering, 'Oh yes, as long as everything is fully revealed in due time.'"
Charlie made a gagging sound.
"What?" Draco said. "I don't expect it to be your ideal first date but - what was your first date, Weasleys? If I know you, there was probably some ghastly dragon breathing imminent death and dismemberment down your necks the whole time."
Charlie squinted, remembering. "I'm not sure which one you'd count as the first. But there definitely would have been a dragon involved."
Draco shuddered.
Hermione swatted his arm. "Finish your library role playing story."
"Right. So it went on, Astoria's library tour. I got more comfortable. Ended up transforming her gown's colour from the mauve and white to a deep, royal purple trimmed with silver. Extremely fetching. And in the end we came 'round to me admitting the rare and beautiful thing I wanted most from the library was a dance with her."
Hermione cooed and patted him hard on the back. "That is actually sweet, Malfoy. Better than any line you ever gave me. Well-done."
He was grinning at himself now. "It was, wasn't it? The band playing in the ballroom was loud enough for us to hear through the library doors, and she let me hold her so close. The steps didn't matter, the changes in the song and tempo didn't matter. And when I wasn't sure I'd survive if I didn't kiss her, in barges her mother with the suitor from Italy."
Hermione clucked her tongue. "Of course."
Draco was snickering at the memory. "Oh, they were so cold, pretending I didn't exist and pulling Astoria off to entertain the poor embarrassed man in the ballroom. But try as they might, no one could transfigure that gown back to mauve."
He rubbed his hands together. "The dark purple colour was like my fingerprints all over her for the rest of the night."
"So in other words," Charlie finished. "They couldn't have baited the trap any better for you if they'd done it on purpose."
"Exactly," Draco said, hopping to his feet. "From that moment the chase was on. No duel but loads of drama anyway, almost Shakespearean in scope. You know Shakespeare, don't you Weasley?"
"Of course he does," Hermione answered for him before Charlie could admit he didn't. "And drama is how you'll get through this separation, Draco. This is just another act in your drama with Astoria. Play your part, and at the end of the act, go back to her."
Draco stood in front of the Floo, tapping his fingernail against the lid of the Floo powder tin, beginning to nod. "Yes, that's it," he said. "I'll stay here, at least for the night, let Astoria stew for a few days, and then when she's sorry and ready to beg Hermione's forgiveness and be one of her midwives to build their trust, I'll go back."
Hermione stood up to join him. "Right. And then the four of us can do the Gravida Sympatico spell, keep your baby healthy - "
"And live happily ever after as the best of friends," Draco said, pulling at Charlie's wrist to get him to stand with them at the fire, stacking their hands like the opening cheer of a quidditch game.
For the rest of the night they ate pizza and the boys charmed a pair of umbrellas to keep them dry while they finished the Pensieve. To test it, they showed each other highlights of their quidditch careers.
In bed that night, Hermione wriggled across the mattress to lay her head on Charlie's shoulder. "What a day. You think those loons are going to be alright?" she yawned.
"Mm-hm," he hummed. "The way you've planned it? I don't see why not."
"That's the thing about my plans," Hermione said, her leg bending over his. "There's always something in them I can't foresee that upends everything. Bloody Hogwarts and its incompetent divination teacher, putting me off what ought to have been an eminently useful discipline."
Charlie doused the lights and turned toward her, stroking her hair and settling into sleep.
And if we stopped here, we could end the story exactly as Hermione planned. If only something none of them expected wasn't about to derail it: a very large man, and a very little potion.