Note: Lemon ahead!
"So, you need some hot dress to wear to dinner with my brother. In bloody Romania, for Godric's sake. Are you still gonna tell me this is just sex?"
Hermione pulled a lime green number from a rack and wrinkled her nose, returning it. "Has it ever occurred to you and Harry that maybe I'm just that good of a lay?"
Ginny snorted. "I actually hope that hasn't occurred to my husband, Hermione."
Hermione laughed. "Okay, fine. Things might be a bit more serious than 'just sex.'"
"A bit more, you say?
"Well, I'm not moving to Romania. And I'm certain Charlie's not moving back here, nor would I ever ask him to. So as serious as that gets."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You guys could do a long distance thing, right? Ever heard of those? You certainly put the efforts in for shagging across countries."
"But what happens if one of us wants to get married?"
"Well, all of Mum's prayers are answered. Well, almost all. Until you're knocked up. Then they'll all be answered."
Hermione scoffed, deciding to ignore that one. "I'm going for the olive," she said.
"Good choice. Charlie's favorite color and all."
Hermione turned to Ginny as they waited at the register. "I need to find just a couple more things for the trip."
"Sure. Just as long as we can stop by Wee Wizards and Witches. The boys have just about outgrown their shoes already. Where do you need to go?"
"Well, that's the thing. It might be a little awkward—"
Ginny groaned. "You want to go to Brooms and Cauldrons, don't you?"
Hermione paused. "I was thinking Hags and Harlots, actually, but that's a good idea. We can stop there, too."
"Good Godric, Hermione. We just ate lunch!"
"Relax. I just need a few pieces of lingerie, not a strap-on." She laughed as Ginny mimed gagging.
They apparated to Brooms and Cauldrons first. Hermione turned to Ginny. "I need your help, Ginny. Don't just stand there, making faces. You know I'm not any good at this."
"Well, having been out of practice long enough… hey!" She rubbed her arm where Hermione had playfully punched her.
Ginny closed her eyes. "Okay. Gotta psych myself up for this question." She rolled her head around.
"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione said. "You look just like Trelawney right now, and the shopkeeper's looking. Stop it, will you?"
"I'm just getting ready to ask something personal about you and my brother, and I'm trying to clear my brain, alright?" She snapped her fingers. "I know! Let's pretend you're with that Adonis fellow from your Battlestar show."
"What?" Hermione said, picking up a violet corset. "Oh, you mean Apollo."
"Right. Him. I'm going to be picturing him. Okay, what sort of sex does Apollo like?"
"Um." Hermione thumbed through packages of fishnet stockings. "Well, so far we've done it mainly in secret and quickly at that. I haven't had much time to assess his, ah, style. But I think he likes it rough."
"Okay," Ginny said, rolling her head again.
"Gin, stop! You look mental."
"I'm just trying to psych myself up for a suggestion, Hermione, of crotchless knickers. If he likes it hard and fast and just can't wait."
"Okay, yeah, that sounds good. Where are they?"
She put two different sorts in her basket: one black lace and an emerald one that had a string of pearls settled down the middle of the crotch, which Ginny assured would stimulate her in a very pleasing manner.
"Don't go for the corsets," Ginny advised. "If he's as fast and hard as you say, you'll need the room to breathe."
"Okay. How about this thing?" Hermione held up a completely sheer red slip with roses embroidered on the edges.
"Mmm, I like that. I need to see if they have my size." Ginny lifted a duplicate garment victoriously, draping it over Hermione's basket. "Speaking of roses. I ran into Malfoy the other day. Not only did he not ignore me, but he asked how your holiday was going."
"Ugh, that prat," Hermione said. "He offered me a potions job at the Apothecary."
"Really? Hermione, that sounds like an amazing opportunity. You should consider it."
"No way," Hermione said. "Not if I'm working for him."
"Well, I still think you should explore other options. Your workplace is toxic, dear. You really need to get out of it. For your livelihood and well-being."
"Hmm," Hermione said, surveying an array of edible massage oils. "What flavors does Charlie like? Does he like strawberries or—"
"Fuck, Hermione! You said Charlie!" Ginny covered her face. "Now I have this god-awful image of him licking that off of you and you roaring like a dragon while flapping your arms like wings and—"
"What? That is not remotely how sex with Charlie is—"
"Granger! You bloody said it again!"
"Sorry." She put her basket on the ground and placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders. "Apollo."
"Apollo," Ginny repeated.
"Apollo," Hermione repeated back, until Ginny chanted it with her and visibly calmed.
"Okay, distasteful image is gone." Ginny peeked behind Hermione's shoulder. "But now the shopkeeper thinks we belong to a cult."
"Well, help me decide on a flavor and then we'll go."
That night, as Hermione tidied the kitchen, she tried to pin down a strange feeling she'd been carrying for a few days. She hadn't been working, she reminded herself, and was therefore much more relaxed in general. But that wasn't quite it. Nor was she content. Not exactly.
As she packed for the trip, it finally occurred to her, and she nearly gasped. She was happy. Try as she might, she couldn't deny it to herself. Happiness was always something she'd resigned to other, more deserving people. Yet here she was.
She decided to get to sleep before thinking about it too hard.
XXX
"Hermione Granger," Charlie announced as she flung herself through his floo.
"Charlie!" she said. "Hi!"
His smile was so wide, it included the corners of his eyes. Hermione couldn't think of any point in her love life in which a man was so giddy to see her. He wrapped his arms around and lifted her as he hugged her. Merlin, he smelled good—like oak and pine and orange blossom. She restrained from licking him for a taste.
His hands lingered over her waist and hips after he set her down. She knew that look in his eyes; he was about one kiss away from ripping her clothes off. He must've noticed how frazzled she looked though, and, taking that into account, he picked up her bags, instead. "Let me give you the tour, love," he said, beckoning her to follow with a wink.
After leading her all over his cozy mountain retreat, Hermione paused. "I was under the impression that those who worked on the reservation lived in dormitories."
"Yeah, but after nearly ten years of that, I was ready for something a bit more… grown up," he finished.
"Well, it's absolutely gorgeous. I can't get over the view!"
"Wait 'til you see the master bedroom," he said, his voice deep.
He pushed the door open and Hermione gasped. The room itself was just as quaint and charming as the rest of the house: a bed with a large driftwood headboard that she'd bet money Charlie crafted himself, a reading chair in the corner, and a French-door balcony which opened to the snow-capped range that surrounded them. "Gods, this is perfect," she said.
"I do have a guest room," he said. "I didn't want to assume—"
"You can leave my bags in here," Hermione said quickly. He treated her to a wild grin.
He settled her bags near his armoire and turned to her with clasped hands. "Well! You hungry?"
"Starved," Hermione admitted. "Half my portkeys activated late so I missed lunch entirely."
"Dinner's ready to go, right this way."
He set the dish between them on his breakfast nook, settled next to a wall of windows that revealed the green expanse of forest. "I know I said I'd cook for you, Hermione, but I have to confess, I'm absolutely rubbish at it. One of my work mates heard me stressing about what to make you, and she decided to spare me the trouble and brought this lasagna over."
"That's so sweet," Hermione said as he served her a helping. "It smells glorious."
"We're in the middle of a harvest here in the community, so we're up to our ears in berries and—" he gestured to their food, "winter squash. Anna calls this her harvest lasagna and it's brilliant."
Hermione had already eaten several bites. "Oh my GOD, yes, it is. What's all in it?"
He shrugged. "Pumpkin? Butternut? Honeyhew? Those are my best guesses."
"I need this recipe," Hermione said before stuffing her mouth with another enormous bite.
"Well, if you'd like, we've been invited to a dinner at her place in a couple days. All of my people want to meet you." His eyes sparkled. "You could ask her for it yourself."
"Uh, okay," Hermione said. "Yeah, that sounds fun."
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound very excited."
"Well, it's not that I'm not excited. More like, I'm socially awkward especially when meeting people for the first time. It's always been a bit nerve-wracking."
"These dragon keepers and dragonologists—they're not exactly a pompous lot. But we absolutely don't have to—"
"No!" She put her hand on his. "I want to. Okay?"
He nodded, a goofy half-smile emerging in his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll let them know."
XXX
After dinner, Hermione found herself in the middle of a furious make-out session with Charlie. She wrapped her legs around him from the counter as he pressed his body against hers. She broke the kiss suddenly, breathing hard. "I'm so sorry, Charlie, as all the gods know how much I want to ride you until kingdom come, but I feel like a mess. Running around, traveling all day—"
"I get it," he said, pressing his lips against her forehead. "The bathroom with the big tub is in my room. Why don't you go have a bath and I'll clean up the kitchen."
"Thank you." She kissed his cheek, gliding her hand over the firmness of his muscles before sliding off the counter.
In the room, she opened her suitcase and pulled all the lingerie she'd purchased with Ginny and laid each piece on his bed. She eyed each one, trying to figure out what Charlie would like more, when he burst in with a towel in his hand. "Hermione, I nearly forgot, but here's a…" he drifted off as he stared at the collection on the bed. "Well, well," he said, sauntering next to her to get a closer look. "What have we here?"
Hermione suddenly felt bashful. "I, uh, went shopping." A blush crept up her cheeks.
"Yes, that you did." He clapped his hands together, looking positively delighted. "Do I get to choose?"
She smiled shyly. "Have at it."
He examined each one carefully, finally settling on the pearl knickers. "These look fun." He waggled his eyebrows as he held it up with his fingertips.
Hermione laughed. "I was advised that the pearls make it very pleasurable."
"By whom?"
Hermione shook her head. "You don't want to know."
"A member of my family? A female member? Yeah, you're right, don't want to know."
She grabbed the knickers and the towel from his hands. "What about the braziers?"
"I want your breasts bare."
She smiled. "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you shortly." She tried to walk as sexily as she could to the bathroom, swinging her hips. Before she shut the door, she turned to him and winked.
"Bloody hell," she heard him say through the door.
As tempting as a bath sounded, Hermione decided to run the shower instead. She wanted to clean up quickly, for very obvious reasons.
Afterwards, she rubbed a face potion in to give herself a pretty glow, dabbed Bed of Roses on her pulse points, and waved her wand over her hair until the wet curls turned into full, tousled waves. She finally pulled on the knickers and felt a bit absurd. Would he really like this?
When she opened the door, she found Charlie leaned back on his bed, stripped down to his boxers, book in hand. She nearly whimpered at the sight. He turned to her and promptly dropped his book.
"Fuck, Hermione," he said, his eyes as lusty as she'd ever seen them. Well, that certainly answered her question. He beckoned for her to join him, but she had another idea.
"Is it alright if I read for a bit, too?" she asked innocently, leaning back into his reading chair. She draped her legs over the side of the chair and decided to switch sides, giving him an eyeful of her spread legs in the process. He looked as though he would protest, but after that view, he threw himself off the bed and towards her.
She glanced at the pile of books on the table next to her, idly grabbing one. "Hmm, fascinating," she said, turning it over in her hands. "The Breeding Habits of the Romanian Long— oh!"
Charlie'd interrupted her by throwing her legs open, hanging each one on either arm rest. He sat on the ottoman and ran his thumb along her clit. "Good one, that is. Really gets into detail on the dancing. With illustrations, even."
She tossed the book back on the table and stilled his hand. "Charlie, your finger is so rough, it's just a bit much right now."
"Oh?" He dropped to his knees, pushing the ottoman away. "So, love—" he pressed a few kisses to her inner thighs. "Is there something better I can use on that pretty, wet cunt of yours?" He ran his mouth over the outer lips of her pussy and she moaned. "Hmm?"
"Your tongue," she stammered. "Put your tongue on me, please, Charlie, for the love of Merlin."
He smiled, lowered his head and gave her clit a long, hard swipe. His pushed his tongue along the string of pearls, slowly. Hermione gasped and cried out. "Faster," she whispered.
Between the wet heat of his tongue and the smooth slide of the pearls back and forth, she felt the oncoming orgasm immediately. "Oh, fuck," she whispered. "It's—I'm gonna—"
She threw her head back and screamed, pulling his head to her deeper. She knew he could probably feel her clit throbbing over his tongue, which he slowed to let her ease out of it. As soon as she had some control over her breath, he pushed up and threw her over his shoulders. After tossing her on the bed, he rolled her over to her hands and feet. He pushed the pearls over a touch and pushed his length into her.
Hermione moaned. God, she'd missed getting fucked by Charlie. He slammed his hips against her, pushing in deeper than she'd ever felt him. She curled her body so she could gaze at him and nearly came again at the sight: his muscles all cut and tense, his eyes closed, his lips parted as he let out a feral groan. "Harder," she choked out. His eyes snapped open and made contact with hers. He thrust so hard, she had to push her pelvis back against him so she wouldn't fly across the bed. With each pump, the pearls tightened over her clit, sometimes even sliding over it. It felt so fucking good, Hermione wasn't even sure when her second orgasm began. As it washed over her, she buried her face in a pillow and screamed for what seemed like an eternity, feeling herself tighten around him as he joined her.
He collapsed next to her. "Welcome to my humble abode, Hermione," he said between gasps of breath. She laughed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.