Chapter 6

Hermione spent a lot of her free time at her parent's house. The other times she wasn't busy she was drinking coffee with Charlie. Charlie would keep popping around to Hermione's place, they would drink coffee and talk. One evening Hermione asked about Quidditch, she knew that Charlie had been a seeker on the Gryffindor team, but she didn't know much else. They reminisced about the Quidditch World Cup they attended before Hermione's fourth year. She asked about Charlie's job, dragon keeping. Yesterday they had talked extensively about Hermione's life before Hogwarts. She soon considered Charlie to be one of her best friends.Hermione hated to say it, but she almost forgot about Becky Bentley and her Michael.

Michael was never far from her thoughts. She missed him. His laugh, his smile lighting up his eyes into a twinkle that was worthy of Dumbledore. But when she was with Charlie, she almost forgot about Michael.

She arrived home one day, from a hospital shift, she had already changed into her comfy jeans and a baggy Oxford shirt, to find an eagle owl sitting on her kitchen table. Without thinking about how it would have gotten in her house she pulled out the letter and read it quickly, without absorbing much of the contents. Hermione puts the letter down to start conjuring dinner, when the contents of the letter catch up to Hermione. The plate she has been levitating drops with a bang. "Oh, My, Gandalf!" she exclaims, the plate lay forgotten. The letter reads:

Dear Ms. Hermione Granger, Congratulations! You have been accepted for the title of Head Healer. It has been a hard decision with a lot of thought. But I have decided that you are the best for the job. I look forward to speaking with you. Sincerely, Carrie Worley

She screamed so loudly. She felt as though she would burst her own eardrums. Hermione apparated into the first place she could think of. Which happened to be Charlie's apartment in Diagon Alley.

"CHARLIE!" Hermione shrieked.

There was a crash and a loud "jesus christ"

"Hermione?" He said with a question. Hermione couldn't help but notice that he had come out of the bathroom, in a towel wrapped hastily around his waist, his hair was dripping wet. God, he was built. A six pack, and his arms were covered in various scars from his job. Hermione temporarily forgot her excitement. But remembered herself with a blush and started jumping up and down.

"I GOT THE JOB!!! I GOT THE JOB!!!" She shrieked.

"What job?" Charlie asked.

"The head healer at St. Mungo's!!"

"CONGRATULATIONS!" He hugged her. Hermione settled herself into his arms. Why did this feel so right? I love Michael. Michael. Michael, who….

Hermione sighed dreamily, and she leaned into Charlie's chest. She could feel his heart beat. Thump-thump, thump-thump.

Charlie wasn't even thinking about anything else. He was half naked, his hair was dripping onto Hermione's shirt. His heart was beating faster. This just felt so right. Charlie stroked Hermione's hair. Hermione looked up at Charlie, she wondered if he felt the same way she did, completely loved and safe. She got up on her tiptoes and gently kissed his lips. It was like nothing she ever felt before. Hermione hated to admit it, but honestly, she didn't remember the last time Michael's lips had made her feel tingly down to her toes. And bubbly, like when her parents poured champagne.

She felt him smile, then Hermione felt the flicker of his tongue across her lips, and she parted them slightly. Charlie had deepened the kiss, when a clunking noise and the flop of a newspaper on the floor caused her to pull away from Charlie.

Becky Bentley was standing at the door, looking embarrassed and shocked.

"You guys are busy, I'll come back later." Becky mumbled while she looked at the floor.

"No! It's ok, I'm just leaving now." Hermione insisted shaking her head as to clear her thoughts and disapparated.

(((((HGCW)))))

"Becky, I can explain." Charlie tried, feebly.

"Don't even try it, Charlie. I know exactly what that was." Becky said.

"Becky."

"Charlie, I know we've been going out for a long time now. That your mother was pushing you to get married. I know that I haven't been the one in your thoughts for a bit. It hurts me Charlie, that you didn't just tell me that you were unhappy."

"Becky. I wasn't unhappy" Charlie said, his voice softer.

"Charlie. I think we should stop seeing each other. In fact I think that you should go after her. She's something you only come across once." Becky's blue eyes were filling up with tears. "I think we'll always love each other, think fondly about each other every once and a while. You were my first love Charlie Weasley, I'll never forget you." Becky said, a single tear slipping from her left eye. She kissed his cheek and then Becky walked out of the apartment. Leaving the door open.

(((((HGCW)))))))

Of course Charlie didn't care about her. She was ugly. She was butt ugly compared to her. She was the Skipper to Becky's Barbie. Why would somebody choose Skipper over Barbie?

Suddenly her promotion didn't fill her with as much cheer as she thought it would. She apparated home. She pressed the button on the answer machine for messages. As usual her mother chirped into the phone "Hermione. Dear. How are you love? Daddy and I are fine. Going to a dental convention. We'll be back in a couple of days. We love you. I'll talk to you soon."

"Frick!" Hermione had forgotten about the dental convention, it had completely slipped her mind. Her message machine blinked at her. No other messages. Of course Michael wouldn't call. He hated her. He had called her a freak. Hermione started to cry, the tears had been building since Becky had interrupted the kiss.

Three Weeks Ago

"Mike? How do you like your steak? Rare, medium rare, cooked, burnt?"

"Medium rare." Mike had bellowed down the stairs. He was taking a shower. Hermione was making them a special dinner. It was their two-year anniversary of being together. She wanted everything to be perfect. And everything would be perfect, if it wasn't for that damn steak. She couldn't ever remember what way he liked it.

She peeked in the oven and saw a well done, sitting in a baking pan. "Frick!" she said. Hermione looked around cautiously, she pulled her wand from her sleeve to cast a spell to make the steak medium rare. She watched in interest as her steak went from brown to a red. In her slight ADD moment, Hermione had neglected to put her wand away. She was still holding it in-between her thumb and pointer finger on her left hand. She had a "deer-in-the-headlights" look about her.

"Fuck." Hermione swore.

"What were those sparks coming out of that meat? What's that wooden thing you're holding?" Hermione stiffened. She had just realized the enormity of her bad judgment whether it would be the statute of secrecy or some other charge they dug up, she would definitely be in trouble for this.

"Mikey, I want to explain something to you." Hermione said.

"What?!?!" Mike burst out anxiously.

"Mikey, I'm a witch. I can do magic and this is a wand." Hermione said calmly, trying to grab his hand.

"No, you're crazy! I don't believe you!" Mike bellowed, a sheer look of terror crossed onto his face when Hermione lifted her wand and said:

"Fine, I'll prove it to you." Hermione said. She waved her wand and with a loud popping noise a bouquet of flowers appeared in her hands. She put the flowers down.
"No! No, this is an optical illusion. I'm dreaming, this is a very weird dream."

"No! it's not a dream. Accio remote." She said, Mike whipped around to see the remote control flying across the family room, through the kitchen to land with a smack on the glass table where they sat now. Hermione reached out to grab his hand.

"Get away from me! You sorceress! You witch, you, you, you FREAK! Stay away from me! We're through!!" Michael yelled as he ran from the house.

Hermione was shocked. She felt like he had slapped her across the face. Although this slap hurt more than a physical slap.

For some reason, Hermione hadn't thought of the main way this would effect her life: Michael's leaving. It wasn't even occurring to her that he wouldn't like magic. Michael was a scientist. He was in college, he wanted to be a science professor, and the chosen scientific subject was undeclared. Hermione had always noticed that he was a firm believer in science, if something couldn't be proved by science he had a dislike for it.

Seeing Mike acting like that had triggered a distinct, (but long forgotten) memory of when she was eleven and had been accepted into Hogwarts. Michael had been fourteen or fifteen when she asked him. If he believed in magic. He gave her a look that only a teenage boy could pull off and in his most scornful voice he said "no."

Hermione had smarted at the harshness of his reply and had immediately clammed up and hadn't brought up the topic again.

Hermione went upstairs to her room in a haze, the next morning she wouldn't remember walking up to her room, she would however remember that she cried herself to sleep that night.

Author's Notes:

-Hope this one was better than the last one, this one explained stuff.

-I was watching Scrubs best show ever! (so therefore my use of Elliot Reid's curse frick), then Dirty Dancing, I was tempted to use the heartbeat scene (or the words) to that, but it didn't seem right.

-Anyway. You know the deal: not mine.

- oh and i was sick of 'oh merlin' so i threw in another famous wizard :-)