Charlie took one last look around the twins' messy flat. Given that their living space had never been anything less than chaotic (or dangerous) for as long as Charlie could remember, the boxes all around weren't exactly out of the ordinary, but he knew something was going on. He questioned the twins once more, but they were evasive. Shrugging, for Charlie knew from experience that it was best not to pry too deeply into the inner workings of Fred and George Weasley, he promised to see his little brothers at the evening's party and took his leave.

Shouldering his duffle and wondering how Muggles got along without featherweight charms, he headed out into Diagon Alley, which was unexpectedly busy for Christmas Eve. Or perhaps it should have been expected, last shopping day before Christmas and all.

Charlie came to a stop outside Eeylops Owl Emporium. He suddenly realized he had absolutely no idea where he was headed or what he wanted to buy. Charlie didn't normally spend too much time on presents; he normally had a set gift for everyone in his family. Dad? Some Muggle contraption. Mum? Jewelry. Bill? Cologne. Percy? A book. The twins? Zonko's products. Ron? Sweets. Ginny? Perfume. Harry? Something Quidditch related. Tonks? A gag gift.

But this had to be special. Buying a small bag of roasted chestnuts from a stall, Charlie began to wander down the street and contemplate his present. It had to say something, but what?

I've been in love with you since we were forced to kiss under the mistletoe last year. No, that was coming on a bit strong.

Your lips tasted like strawberries and I've been dreaming about tasting that again since last Christmas. No, that was coming on a bit creepy.

I want to rip your jumper off and see if there's a wild animal underneath that calm, intelligent exterior. That went right past strong and creepy and ran straight into degenerate wanker territory.

Charlie shook his head, frustrated with himself. He'd been a bit of a ladies' man at Hogwarts, but that generally hadn't gone past getting the girl into a secluded broom closet. And his years on a Romanian dragon reserve hadn't exactly polished him. Bill had always been the smooth one with the romance and silver tongue.

He pulled out a chestnut and contemplated it before popping it into his mouth. "I would really like to take you out and learn all about you and kiss you at the end of the night."

"You'll have to let me know if she says yes."

Charlie whirled around, chestnut still in hand, to find a smiling Hermione Granger standing behind him. "Hermione," he said, startled and more than a little embarrassed to have been caught making advances on a snack. "How are you?"

Hermione reached up rather hesitantly and gave him an awkward hug. "I'm fine. And you? When did you get here?"

"I'm good," he replied. "And just now, really. I still have something to buy so I came here before going to the Burrow."

"Oh? Did you forget someone?"

"Forget? No, not at all. Just, um, I couldn't get what I wanted in Romania. It's important."

"Oh, for your mother, or ... someone else special?"

"Ye-es," Charlie said slowly, dragging out the word as he thought of how to avoid answering. "I only buy presents for those I care about." He nodded at the bag in her hand. "I see I'm not the only one who left it until the last minute."

Hermione glanced at her bag then, strangely, swung it behind her body. "Oh, this?" she said in a rather high voice. "It's nothing. I just forgot something we needed for the party tonight. You'll be there, right?"

"I wouldn't miss y-, er, it," he assured her, and he was gratified to see her cheeks turn pink. "What was so important that the party couldn't just go without?"

"It really is nothing special," she repeated. "You'll see tonight, I'm sure."

"Reckon I will." He cast about for something else to say, clenching the bag in his hand. "Um, would you like to try my nuts?"

Hermione's brown eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Chestnuts! Roasted chestnuts," he amended quickly, smothering the refrain of stupid stupid stupid in his head.

Charlie held out the bag, and she accepted one. As she chewed, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear only to have it spring free instantly, and when she absently repeated the gesture, he couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" she questioned, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I think you're fighting a losing battle," he said, pointing. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed back her hair with his free hand.

Hermione blushed again, very prettily, and he held her gaze. Charlie cleared his throat and was about to speak when she suddenly took a step backward. "Look at me, holding you up here in the middle of Diagon Alley when you've just traveled across a continent. You don't even have a bag, you still have shopping to do, and I'm sure you're ready to see your mum and rest before the party."

Charlie's head spun a bit at her rapid speech, delivered without taking a single breath. "Yeah, I'm sure I smell like a rank dragon," he joked, and immediately wanted to sink into the ground. Because making jokes about your reptilian odor is a sure way to get the attention of a pretty girl.

"Oh ... yes – I mean, no, I'm sure – I'm just going to go," she stammered. "I'll see you at the party, Charlie."

"Nice to see you again, Hermione!" he called after her retreating figure. "See you tonight!"

oOo

It was all Hermione could do to keep from smacking herself on the head as she walked away from Charlie. She couldn't even say goodbye like a normal woman. No, she had to first ramble and then stammer like a teenage girl. At least she hadn't giggled incessantly. She hadn't been able to stand that sort of vapid laughter since Lavender Brown giggled her way through their sixth year.

Of all the people for her to run into in Diagon Alley on Christmas Eve, it would be Charlie Weasley. And what was he up to anyway? Despite her earlier rant, here Hermione did giggle a bit, for apparently what Charlie was up to was attempting to establish a relationship with a chestnut, albeit a very lovely chestnut, nice and roasted. And tasty.

Shaking her head, Hermione looked at the bag in her hand, wondering if it was appropriate. She didn't want to give the wrong impression, but on the flip side she did want to give the right impression. There was a line somewhere. Hermione just hoped she was on the side she wanted. But not too far. Not like the impression she would give, say, Neville or Harry.

Hermione actually huffed aloud. She hated being like this. She was Hermione Granger – cool, collected, and utterly unconcerned with what impression she gave any men. Even a certain man. And with that she headed on her way back to the Leaky Cauldron so she could return to Grimmauld Place. However, as she passed Madam Malkin's, Hermione caught sight of another familiar head of red hair, just as she had earlier but this one with hair long and straight, not thick and curly. "Ginny?" she called.

The youngest Weasley whirled around, her face a clear expression of someone with her hand caught in the cookie jar. She froze for a moment before visibly relaxing her features and hurrying to Hermione's side. "Hi, Hermione!"

"Hello, Ginny," she replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping," the younger girl said immediately. "What about you?"

"The same." Hermione held up her bag. Something in Ginny's manner was off, but Hermione had her own preoccupations. She saw no need to pry. "You know, I just left your brother."

"Which one?"

"Oh, right. Charlie." Hermione glanced at her nails and tried to look unconcerned, but she caught a glimpse of the knowing smile that spread across Ginny's face.

"Charlie? Whatever were you doing with him?" Ginny teased.

Hermione forced away a flush. "Nothing! We just ran into each other."

"Imagine that, you of all people running into him. Drawn like a magnet, I suppose. I can't wait to see him. How is my dear brother?"

"He's perfectly fine."

"So you think my brother is 'fine'?" Ginny pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Yes, I think if I look at him objectively I can agree that women may think he's 'fine.' He is my brother, after all. Perhaps good looks run in the family."

"Ginny!" Hermione protested. "You know that's not what I meant."

"No, Hermione, I think you don't know that is what you meant, but I'll leave it. For now. What's he doing in Diagon Alley?"

"He said he had some last minute shopping to do as well."

"Lot of that going on today," Ginny said. She pointed at the bag. "What did you get?"

"Oh nothing," Hermione said quickly, surreptitiously shifting the bag so the logo was obscured. "By the way, do you know if Draco is coming?"

"What? No. I have no idea. Why would I know that?"

Hermione concealed a smile. "No reason. Seems that he never told Harry if he was coming or not, so I was just curious if anyone's seen him lately."

Ginny shook her head, running a hand through her long hair. "No, sorry. I haven't a clue. Not at all." She glanced at Hermione's bag again. "Hermione, what's so special about whatever you bought?"

"Nothing!" Hermione insisted. "I should get back, I promised to help decorate. Bye, Ginny. See you tonight."