Charlie was in a mood. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but something had him ruffled. It had all started when they were clocking out of their shift, and he turned to Hermione and said, "Welp. Glad that is done, right Mia! You're in for the bonfire tonight right? Shall I come get you around 8 and we can head over together?"

"Thanks Char, but I'm actually gonna head over with Mel tonight."

Something about the way Hermione had said this had ruffled him. Her voice didn't hold its normal warmth. Instead it was distant. Had he done something? No… he definitely had made sure to file today's reports in the record shelf rather than just tossing them on the desk. He had even been careful to make sure he added the alphabiting tab to the record, knowing how much it bugged Hermione when she couldn't find their field notes without searching through the To Be Filed bin. He had even gotten her a midday coffee when he noticed that she was beginning to drag around 2pm… a tendency he had noticed in her on days that the mess hall served pasta for lunch. For Merlin sake, he had even ensured that it had only a splash of cream and one sugar with a sprinkle of cinnamon, just the way she liked it. Nope… to his recollection the day had gone smoothly, so what was it that had her seemingly pulling away.

By the time Finn knocked on his door, with a bottle of Ogden's Finest to bring with them to the Bonfire, Charlie was in a right mood.

Plopping himself down on Charlie's couch, waiting for his best friend to be ready to head out, Finn called, "Oy. Mate. You stomp around here any harder and the maintenance crew is gonna have to replace these floor boards, and you know how downright pissy they get if we ask them to, well… do anything really… maybe we should ask Phil to look into that department… perhaps a clean up or attitude adjustment is in order… in fact…"

Charlie cut him off, frustratedly popping his head from his kitchennette where he was grabbing his offerings to bring to the party, "Finn… I swear, cut your rambling or I'll hex you from here until Thursday!"

Raising his hands in jesting surrender, Finn replied, "I'm just saying mate. 'Sides… what's got you in a mood?"

Charlie ran his hands through his hair exasperated. "I'm sorry mate… I don't mean to snap at ya… I just, well I honestly don't quite know what's got me all fired up, but something is defintily bugging me."

Standing and throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder, with a sparkle of mischief in his eye, Finn said, "Sounds to me like what these two blokes need is this night out full of great drinks, good company, and getting to burn a lot of shit!"

Charlie chuckled. "You're right mate. Let's quit yammering and head to the bonfire already!"

With that the two made their way to the party on the outskirts of the reserve. Once a year, the Romanian Reserve sponsored a fun night of revelry for the employees of the reserve. About 6 years back, in Charlie's early years at the reserve, it had become tradition to have the central theme of the annual party be a bonfire. That year, they had torn down the termite ridden mess hall to make way for the new building, which had left them with more infested scrap wood than they could think of what to do with, so the tamers of that time had built a great bonfire at the party, and the tradition had stuck.

Entering the party, Charlie glanced around hoping to catch sight of Hermione and Mel. Finn beelined to the left, having caught sight of his girlfriend, but much to Charlie's dimsay, Hermione was not with her. Looking around confusedly, his gaze came to rest when he saw her.

There she was, in the glow of the bonfire, flipping her hair, laughing and bantering among a large flock of male tamers, all of whom seemed to be hanging on to her every word, and she looked radiant. She had donned tight black jeans with a white linen blouse tied in a cropped fashion just an inch or so above the waistline of her jeans, enough to tease with just the slightest show of her toned midsection. Over her jeans she had long black leather boots, making her legs go on for days. Her hair was down in loose, soft curls which elegantly framed her face, and she did not have much makeup on, which suited her perfectly as she did not need to goop it on to compliment her perfect complexion. Hermione looked breathtaking, and Charlie couldn't take his eyes off of her.

That is until one of the tamers, actually a very drunk looking Steve, laughed at her apparent joke, and, much to the dismay of the other tamers, reaching out and clumsily pulled her into him, too close for Charlie's liking, for a dance in the moonlight.

Charlie shook himself, wondering why on earth he was reacting this way. Sure, she was cute… more than cute if he was being honest with himself, but why should he be jealous. She wasn't his girlfriend… wait, why wasn't she his girlfriend?! As he thought on it, by all accounts he couldn't figure why this was not yet his reality. He liked her… deep down he knew he had for a while. Why was he letting himself get hung up on her past with his brother. In the end, he deserved happiness and so did she. But then it struck him. Would she be happy with him? How could she be? He was just… well him… she deserved someone who could give her the world. She was the most amazing woman he had ever met. How could he live up what she needed, what she deserved.

Sullenly brooding over his conceived shortcomings, Charlie stalked off. Man. He needed a stiff drink and he needed it right now. As he walked away, he didn't see Hermione being sidestepped toward the fringe of the party and he didn't see the look of terror that waved over her face as she realized the strength of the man whose arm was locked around her waist, and who was gripping her hand in a vicegrip lock, danicngly manuvering her further away from the group.

As Charlie nursed his drink, sitting by himself on a log by the bonfire, Mel came up to him, three sheets to the wind, and plunked herself down tipsilly next to him on the log and slurred, "Sooo Charlie, what's got you pouting 'ver here alls by yur lonesome, hmmmm?"

Charlie kept his glare looking forward and refused to answer her.

"Smaybe you have a little thing brewing for a certain curly haired tamer?" Mel prodded, shoulder bumping him.

Charlie rolled his eyes at her and stood to walk away.

Just then, with worry in her voice and an unexpected clarity of intonation, Mel sobered a bit and said some of the worst words Charlie had ever heard, "Wait, where is Hermione? I don't see her anywhere?"

Suddenly feeling, nay knowing something was wrong, Charlie looked around, panicking. Where was she? She had been right there! Now she was gone. Something wasn't right.