A/N: Hey guys, thanks so much for all of your reviews. I meant to have this updated last week but I had my wisdom teeth out and greatly underestimated how productive I could be with my time off of work. That said, here is chapter 5, please enjoy.


Hermione crossed the threshold of the Leaky Cauldron and was immediately assaulted by the boisterous voices and the smell of spilled ale. The pub was crowded as usual but far more out of shape then she had ever witnessed. Before she could even wrinkle her nose in distaste for the environment her date took hold of her elbow and swiftly ushered her back out the door and into the dimly lit back alleyway.

"I apologize. If I had known it would be like that in there I never would have suggested you meet me," Charlie voiced sincerely.

"Its fine Charlie," Hermione expressed. "There was no way you could have known. Besides I've never seen it so disorderly before, and I live just down the way." She turned a bright smile the ginger haired wizard's way.

"You look wonderful" he whispered silkily to her. "Shall we head into London then?"

"We shall," came Hermione's cheerful reply. A mere moment later he was tapping the complex yet strangely easy to memorize pattern into the brick wall which soon parted to permit their entry to muggle London. Charlie gestured for Hermione to go first and followed closely behind her.

"The restaurant isn't far from here," Charlie explained as he offered Hermione his arm.

"You're still not going to tell me where your taking me?" Hermione inquired in good spirits as she linked her arm through his.

"Let me think," he retorted playfully, "nope." The pair began walking down the bustling street enjoying each other's company. They were quiet, both not quite sure what to converse about and preferring to save the talking for dinner. Hermione recognized the direction they were heading in was on the nicer side of this area. While she wouldn't consider it upscale, she realized that Charlie was intent on taking her to the more quiet, cozy places versus the more popular, crowded and lively ones. To be honest, Hermione would have been fine either way, excited as she was about the whole date. She chose not to comment however, and allow Charlie to surprise her. They arrived about a block later.

The Restaurant, Italian by the sound of it, was located on the corner of the street and although small in size, appeared to be romantic from what Hermione glimpsed through the windows. Charlie held the door open for her and Hermione stepped in breathing in the aromatic scents of fine cooking as she did. A hostess lead them to a booth on the far left side which had a splendid view of the street outside. The table was lit by a small chandelier at a muted level and the candles lit as a centerpiece which gave the area an ambiance to it. The hostess took Hermione's coat and left them with their menus.

"Well," Hermione murmured softly, "This is nice."

"A friend recommended it," Charlie replied with a shrug. "Apparently, the food here is to die for."

"That does sound promising," Hermione responded as she perused the menu. "So, I must admit I'm not quite good at this sort of thing."

"You're not good at what sort of thing, Hermione?" Her date asked puzzled.

"Erm, the dating thing," she explained further with embarrassment evidential on her rapidly blushing cheeks. "I've only been involved with a couple of people and they haven't all ended well. In fact, The Daily Prophet has delighted in advertising as much." At her admission, Charlie's face reddened with undisguised rage.

"The Prophet does what?" He grunted the question taking great care to not raise his voice in the quiet restaurant.

"Well, Rita skeeter particularly. She is not a fan and has taken it as a personal mission to paint me in a negative light."

"That is completely unacceptable!" Charlie burst out.

"Charlie," Hermione expressed calmly. "It's nothing to worry about. I Ignore it, the people who matter ignore it, and it's not worth getting bent out of shape over. I'm sorry I brought it up." It was clear that her dismissal of the matter was unsatisfactory to the wizard but none-the-less Charlie let it drop. In his thoughts, he was plotting how to put a stop to the slander against Hermione, and inwardly he was seething at the audacity of the prophet to publish such material. However, He wanted the date to be enjoyable, special. Keeping on about upsetting manners was a foolproof way to kill romance and so he commented instead on the first part of the witch's statement.

"Why do you think you're not good at dating?" He could argue the same thing himself. He could charm his way into a witch's bed easily enough but when it came to a relationship his career did him no favors.

"I don't have a particularly great track record," Hermione stated. "I'm told I work too much, I'm distant and frigid and a prude." Charlie bit the inside of his cheek at the apparent display of Hermione's low self-esteem.

"Hermione, I doubt that you are bad a dating," he told her gently. "I think perhaps you have not found the right person. In any case, I'll take this as slow as you want to." She smiled gratefully at him in response.

"I appreciate that Charlie," she replied. "What are you thinking sounds good?" She changed the subject towards the menu. Charlie hadn't really glanced much beyond the appetizers.

"Why don't we start with an order of prosciutto?" He suggested swiftly.

"Delicious, one of my favorites," Hermione agreed. Soon the waitress arrived and Charlie requested the dish and an old-fashioned whiskey to Hermione's Raspberry martini. When she departed with the order Hermione said, "Tell me more about the reserve."

"What do you want to know?"

"Charlie," Hermione sighed dreamily. "Everything."

"Okay well," he began. "The Reserve is completely different than anywhere else I've ever been. In your brief time there I'm sure you noticed the vast plains, the land is flat but by no means boring. The sky runs perfectly parallel to the ground until as if on the horizon, mountains burst up as though to touch the clouds. One of my favorite sights is when a dragon flies into view from beyond the mountains." Hermione was completely entranced by charlie's account. It was clear that he loved the reserve, and was not immune to its beauty. She loved that he could be so carefree and open to sharing that with her because she knew that if he expressed that to his brothers they would mercilessly tease him for sounding girlish. Hermione didn't think that at all. No, She appreciated the passion this wizard possessed not only for his job but for the land where he lived and worked.

"You speak of it so fondly. It's clear you love it," Hermione breathed with awe.

"I do," Charlie replied. "I was born to be wild, and often felt confined growing up..." Hermione inferred what was left unsaid. The Weasley family was a tight-knit group and although she loved them dearly it could be stifling at times. Molly was overbearing and forceful with her mothering of her own brood and the rest of the order.

"I can imagine," she remarked in consideration. "It couldn't have been easy to run free with such a large family." Charlie was saved from answering because the moment Hermione finished speaking, the waitress returned with their drinks.

"The prosciutto will be right out for you," the lithe, blonde woman informed smoothly before departing.

"When are you going back?" Hermione inquired, knowing full well that he couldn't stay away for long. Charlie grimaced and averted his gaze.

"Tomorrow," he answered still not looking at her. "Early in the morning." Hermione nodded having expected as much. "When will you be joining me?"

"I'll have to put in notice at the ministry. I can do that right away on Monday, so it won't be for two weeks."

"How will I resist being away from you so long?" he muttered as his eyes slowly rose to hers again. Hermione blushed.

"You'll manage just fine Charles Weasley," she mock scolded. "You probably won't even notice when you get back to your dragons."

"Oh, I'll notice," he refuted adamantly. "But I suppose it does give me time to prepare a cabin and an office for you."

"See, we will both be busy. I'll be wrapping up my projects and hiring a replacement at work while packing up my flat, and you'll have things to attend to on the reserve. Two weeks will fly by." Hermione decided as she sipped her martini. The appetizer arrived then, and both ordered their entrees.

"I'd love the asparagus ravioli" Hermione ordered. Charlie selected the Bistecca Fiorentina. The rest of their evening passed pleasantly. They enjoyed their meal immensely, and even split a slice of tiramisu for dessert. Perhaps it was because they were already acquainted with each other, but the conversation between them through dinner was so far from the normal first date topics. Instead they discussed things like Wizarding politics, how the Wizarding world could benefit from the muggle one, and life on a remote dragon reservation. At the end of the night, Charlie walked her back to her flat.

"May I kiss you, Hermione?" He asked as they were through exchanging their pleasantries for the evening. Hermione smiled.

"I think you'd better Charlie," she insisted. The red-haired wizard slanted his lips across her own gently, running his tongue against her bottom lip to coax her mouth open. Allowing him access he took advantage and melded his tongue with hers as Hermione's hair lifted and wrapped around his neck. All too soon the kiss ended and he was pulling away from her.

"Goodnight, Hermione," He smirked at her as if knowing what that kiss had done to her, "See you in two weeks time."

"Be safe Charlie," Hermione retorted sassily. "I want you in one piece when I get there."

"Feel free to fall in a heap at my feet, again, when you arrive," he shot at her before he walked away. Hermione shook her head watching him turn the corner and disappear from view, only then did she enter her flat and close the door.