The Things We Have Left

He had gone to stay with Bill and Fleur shortly after they returned from their honeymoon. The Order had need for him closer to home and staying at the Burrow was not working out. They had offered him a room at Grimmuald Place, but staying didn't feel right without Harry's express permission.

His room was small, the first door at the top of the stairs, a closet really. A narrow bed sat against the wall under the only window and a tiny dresser was against the opposite wall. That was all there was.

He had been gone when they had appeared unexpectedly at Shell Cottage, when he returned that night Fleur intercepted him at the door, telling him their story before he entered. Harry and Ron were speaking with the goblin in the kitchen and nobody told him where Hermione was.

Frustrated with the lack of information available and Bill's silence, Charlie went straight up to his little room. It was dark and he didn't notice her presence until he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Charlie?" Her voice was raspy and quiet, every syllable sounded forced and painful.

He nearly jumped from the bed, startled as he peered down at the darkened figure, "Hermione, is that you?"

"Yes."

Awkward silence consumed them. He should have moved off the bed but he was stuck in place staring down at her as she looked back at him.

"You look sad Charlie. How've you been?"

He wasn't expecting it; he hadn't even known she could see his face in the dark. He cast a spell under his breath and the lantern on his dresser light, basking the room in yellow light. What he saw made him gasp.

Bruises tattooed her face and her entire body, at least the bit he could see above the blankets, was marred with deep cuts clotted with blood. She forced a smile for him, but her eyes revealed her pain.

"What happened?"

She looked away, staring at the flickering flame of the lantern, "I'm sorry I took your bed."

"Hermione…"

"Where are Ron and Harry?"

"Hermione, tell me."

He reached out, tilting her head up towards him before he even realized what he was doing. She flinched at the contact but begrudgingly made eye contact.

"Why do you want to know?" She was pleading with him silently, her eyes asking him to drop it.

There was a pain he had never experienced in her eyes and he acquiesced, "I'll let you sleep then." He made to leave, lifting himself lightly off the cot.

"No wait… Don't go."

He turned in the doorway, admiring the way the light danced across her face, pretty despite the damage. She looked older than she had the last time he saw her even though it had been less than a year. Her body was weighed down with stress most her age never had to experience.

"I don't want to talk about it, I just don't like being alone. Ron was here before, but Harry needed him." She sounded embarrassed, as if she thought her request was childish when she voiced it.

He nodded, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaning against it.

"You can sit back down if you'd like."

Such a simple request on her behalf but the few steps to the bed felt like he was wading through wet concrete. The last time they had spoken he had been bleeding drunk and very close to repeating the mistake of kissing her. Hermione was attractive and Charlie had a hard time controlling himself around attractive women. Seeing her now though, physical feelings disappeared. She looked broken and he wanted to comfort her.

"Want me to get you some bruise cream? The twins keep us well supplied."

She nodded silently and he turned towards the dresser, "Accio Weasley Wizard Wheezes bruise cream."

The container came whizzing out of the jarred drawer, smacking softly into his hand. The contents were a goopy yellow gel-like substance with a strong antiseptic odor. He scooped up a liberal amount with his middle and pointer finger and knelt before her, reaching up to softly massage it into her swollen skin.

She hissed at the feeling of the cold gel on her sensitive face, grabbing his wrist to still the movement. The skin where her fingertips touched felt hot and a tingle went down his spine at the pressure.

"Sorry, I should have told you its cold. It tingles a bit too."

She nodded, releasing his arm, her face flushing when she realized the contact, "Yes I know, I had to use it once before."

"Really? Hermione Granger a fighter, who would've thought." He winked at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh no, nothing like that, we were at the twins shop and I got a hold of one of the punching telescopes. Fred felt bad for me and gave me the bruise cream."

Charlie shook his head, "Those two can be dangerous to have around."

While she was talking, he had finished applying the cream to her face and was massaging it into her neck. Looking down she realized this and slowly brought her hands up to hold his.

"Thank you Charlie."

He nodded, "Of course."

They were inching towards one another again; a moment of déjà vu overtook him as images of flying objects and orange couches made his mind hazy. Her eyes closed first as her head tilted slightly to the right and he closed the distance between them.

It was a sweet kiss, short and innocent, when they separated he rested his forehead against hers, smiling with clouded eyes at her.

"I owled you, every day since Bill's wedding."

He hadn't planned to tell her, it made him feel foolish, but he had to say something and the genuine smile she gave him in return was well worth a little embarrassment.

"This is where you run away." She said, her voice teasing as they finally separated.

He was still hunched in front of her, looking up at her now smiling face.

"Probably should."

"But you won't."

"Nope."

It didn't mean he liked her as anything other than a friend, he reminded himself, she was a pretty girl he liked to kiss, that was all.

She turned to sit on the bed, her back against the wall and patted the spot next to her, "Tell me a story Charlie."

He joined her, leaning back against the wall his arms folded loosely over his chest, "About what?"

"Anything."

That night after the others had gone to bed Charlie, Bill and Fleur sat by the fireplace in the main bedroom, setting a silencing charm to prevent extendable ears or eavesdroppers from listening in.

"I don't trust zee goblin." Fleur announced, looking fierce despite her flowery lace dressing gown.

Bill nodded in agreement; he was sitting on a wooden chest at the end of the bed, a muggle beer in hand. They had been drinking steadily since dinnertime.

"He doesn't like our kind, but he likes the death eaters even less. We'd do best to appease him for now. Anyway, Harry thinks he's important." Charlie had spoken to his brother's friend right before bed that night and Harry had asked him to plead Griphook's case. If it were up to Bill and Fleur, he would be gone already.

Fleur glared at him, "He iz rude. Beel, enough beer." She snatched the can from her husband's hand, ignoring his glare as she swept out of the room to dispose of it.

"They need his help Bill, we gotta' keep him around. Ollivander will go to Aunt Muriel's with the other two, everything will be fine."

"You're calm little brother, a bit too calm. Do you know something?"

Charlie took a deep swig of his beer, happy Fleur had not accosted his as well, "No, I just trust Harry and so should you. I'm going to bed." He stood; ready to go down to the living room where the others slept.

Griphook had insisted on his own room and Luna and Hermione were staying in Charlie's while she recovered so the rest were stuck on the living rooms wooden floor.

"They're kids Charlie."

"You know better than that brother."

He passed Fleur in the hall, exchanging brief goodnights before descending the rickety stairs. The others were in various states of sleep, Mr. Ollivander on the transfigured couch and the other three close to the fire for warmth against the sea breeze.

He picked up the bundle of blankets and pillow Fleur had left on the side table for him and situated himself against the wall opposite the fire.

He was nearly asleep when he felt the flutter of fingers on his forearm, shaking him from his slumber. Silvery grey eyes stared down at him from a translucent white faced framed with platinum hair.

"She's very upset, she's been crying in her sleep and I can't wake her. I think the wrackspurts are confusing her. She doesn't know where she is. Can you come upstairs?" Her voice was airy and far off when she spoke, not conveying the urgency of her message at all.

He chose not to ask what a wrackspurt was and instead struggled out of his makeshift bed and followed Luna up the staircase. She opened the door for him, "I can wait downstairs. Goodnight Charlie."

True to what she had told him, Hermione was tossing and turning in the little bed, clawing at her now bruise-free face and reopening the cuts.

It was a struggle to pull her arms away from her face and it took all his strength to pin her down to the bed so she couldn't hurt herself more. She woke with a start, her eyes popping open in abject horror.

"Shh, it's only me Hermione. You were having a dream." He spoke quietly so as not to wake the others, the last thing Hermione needed was a crowded room.

Her tense body relaxed and he released her.

"I'm sorry Charlie. Where's Luna?" She looked down at the empty sleeping bag on the floor.

"Uh, sleeping downstairs I think. Want me to get her?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, I'm alright. You should go back to bed."

He sighed, "Are you sure? Ok, call if you need me. Goodnight Hermione."

He tiptoed back down the stairs to the living room, Luna had wiggled her way in between Harry and Ron – his mother would have been scandalized. His own spot was found undisturbed and he fell asleep quickly.

Charlie never slept past six when he was working but the time he had taken off was beginning to take a toll on his rigid sleep schedule and by the time Charlie woke up the next morning it was half past nine.

He stretched his aching muscles smiling at the pops and cracks of his joints relaxing and popping into place. He found the others, even Hermione, in the kitchen eating breakfast. The notable exception being Griphook who decided he preferred to eat raw meat in the bedroom he had taken over the previous night.

"Morning." He greeted, sitting down in the empty chair next to Bill, his plate instantly filled, a nifty French spell of Fleur's.

Nobody looked up from his or her plates, save Hermione who afforded him a small smile, and soon he found himself equally absorbed in his meal. Once everyone was finished, the plates disappeared and conversation began.

It was decided that Luna, Dean and Mr. Ollivander would stay at Shell Cottage for the time being while Griphook would be going to Aunt Muriel's in a week or two. Nobody mentioned where the trio would be going and they offered no suggestions. In fact, if Charlie wasn't mistaken the three seemed to be working very hard to avoid the question.

Ron kept his face full of food and then when that was gone, drank cup after cup of tea. Harry adopted a similar tactic and gnawed at his nails nervously. Both boys figured that if their mouths were busy, they couldn't answer questions. No one dared ask Hermione, she had stared out the window for the duration of the meal and didn't join the post-breakfast discussion.

"Ok Hermione?" Dean asked, managing to catch her eye and draw her gaze away from the overcast sky outside. Rain clouds loomed in the distance and when it rained it poured, Shell Cottage would be under storm attack. If not for magic, it would have long ago succumbed to the environment.

Hermione nodded in response, forcing a tight fake smile, "Fine thanks Dean. Just a bit tired."

She had slept the entire day before, but no one thought to point that out. Instead, they accepted this excuse, resuming the awkward silence.

"It's raining." Luna announced just as the skies opened up and the downpour began.

True to Charlie's predication, the little cottage shook violently with the wind and rain, the claps of thunder so loud it felt as if they were happening in your ear. The entire group, sans Griphook again, retired to the living room where they wrapped up in blankets and pulled the furniture close to the roaring fire.

It didn't go unnoticed that Hermione was sitting close to him on the couch and both his brothers were eyeing the unlikely duo suspiciously. Charlie ignored it, talking quietly to the younger girl so that their conversation would not be easily picked up.

"Now that I've told you all about the dragon reserve," he said, referencing their previous days conversation, "tell me about Hogwarts. It's been years."

She consented, matching his whisper, "Anything in particular? Classes are the same, I've learned by now that's a bit of a dull subject for anyone other than me."

They both started to laugh at this but the sensation quickly died in their throats at Fleur's scathing look. She clearly wasn't pleased they were getting along so famously, Bill must have said something to her.

"Did you really punch the Malfoy kid?"

Hermione tinged pink, she always seemed to blush in his presence and he found it quite becoming, "Yes he was being a real prat though. Who told you?"

Charlie bit back laughter, smiling broadly instead, "George. Did he cry?"

"A bit. Malfoy is a bit of a sissy I'm afraid. His mother dotes on him entirely too much."

"A bit like a prize pony."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "More like an over-dressed jackass."

Charlie snorted at this setting Hermione off in quiet laughter as well, more questioning looks and glares from Fleur's direction quickly quieted them.

"Your face looks much better."

"Thank you, the bruise cream worked quite well. I'm not perfect, but I never have been so I guess I can't complain."

He shrugged, "Perfection is overrated."

"Lenore wasn't perfect than?" She managed to keep a straight face that would have fooled him if not for the laughter dancing behind her eyes.

He was embarrassed and it was hard to hide, "Who told you?"

"George."

"Touché."

"Hermione, I have quite a few books up in our room if you'd like to take a look. It gets boring around here." Bill interjected, wedging his way not so subtlety between the two.

Charlie shrugged it off, making room for his brother, "Don't think we can find any entertainment for her other than books brother?"

Bill dug his elbow into his brother's ribs in warning, "Everybody just needs a bit of rest I think. Lupin is coming by tomorrow night, he wants to speak to Harry." At the trios concerned looks he added, "Nobody else knows you're here."

"Hey um, Hermione, Ron and I have some things we want to discuss with you, alone…" Harry nodded towards the staircase and stood, leading the other two silently out of the room.

It was a bit creepy, in Charlie's opinion, how they could communicate so much silently. He had never seen another group of people so in tune with one another, save the twins.

"Mr. Ollivander do you want to go for a walk? My father says the rain has healing powers." Luna suggested, smiling at the old man. She was positively enamored with the wand maker and found everything he had to say terribly interesting.

Mr. Ollivander, for his bit, seemed to have a keen interest in the peculiar girl as well. At dinner the night before he had listened to her talk about gnargles and wrackspurts without so much as an eye roll or snort of laughter, which was more than the rest of them could say.

"Yes my dear, some healing sounds like just the thing."

Once they were gone the remaining four were left sitting uncomfortably before the fire. Dean muttered something about joining Luna and Mr. Ollivander and fled the awkward situation in favor of the storm. Charlie didn't blame him, Fleur was mollycoddling the whole lot of them and it was getting on everyone's last nerve.

"I'll go put tea on."

Once Fleur was gone, Bill stood, walking to the fireplace where he studied the pictures on the mantle making sure to avoid Charlie's face. "Have any confessions for me brother?"

"Come off it Bill, you know I can tell you do."

He nodded, "Again Charlie? Really? What're you playing at?"

"Nothing, she's a pretty girl and she's interesting, can't help it if I find her a bit attractive. She's legal you know."

Bill snorted, he wasn't amused, "Ah yes that makes everything ok doesn't it? I love you Charlie, but I know how you are. You're neglectful of other people and you don't consider feelings. She's going through a lot right now."

"We're friends Bill, she knows that as well as I do."

"I'm fighting a losing battle aren't I?" Bill asked with a resigned smile, finally turning to face his brother.

"'Fraid so. I'm not doing it to hurt anyone, she interests me so why not see what comes of it."

"I know you aren't trying to hurt anyone but someone is going to get hurt all the same."

"I won't hurt her."

"I don't know if I believe you but I was talking about Ron. He loves her Charlie."

Charlie sighed, kneading his hair in frustration, "He won't find out. I'm not asking her to date me, I just kissed her. It might happen again, it might not. End of story."

"Don't you ever want to settle down Char?"

He laughed, "C'mon don't start that, you sound like mum."

"Ok, just Charlie, be careful."

"What, now you're worried about me?"

"She's going to end up with Ron, just, don't get your hopes up."

Charlie nodded, "I know Bill. It's not an issue, honest."

"Ok."

It rained for the rest of the week and by the time the sun made an appearance Fleur had locked herself in her room and Hermione and Ron had gotten in a record breaking fifteen fights in one day. Harry didn't even try to mediate as it was his only source of entertainment in the small cottage and the rest were equal parts amused and terrified.

Ron was being a bit overprotective of his friend or in Hermione's words treating her like an invalid. Charlie knew his brother meant well enough but with what little knowledge he had of Hermione, he was fairly certain she didn't like to be coddled.

"I can pour my own milk Ron." She told him scathingly one morning. Bill had taken Griphook to Aunt Muriel's before work and the others had eaten earlier so it was just Charlie, Ron and Hermione.

Since they had sat down every time Hermione lifted a muscle, to reach something or pour herself a drink, Ron intercepted her. Charlie could sense her tolerance depleting by the minute.

Ron looked offended, slamming down the milk pitcher, "Oi Hermione I'm just trying to help you."

"Well I don't need it. I can pour milk on my own, get my own eggs, walk down the stairs by myself, and do everything else you insist on helping me with by myself. So please, stop trying to help."

Ron was visibly stung and Charlie couldn't blame him, Hermione was being a bitch harsh. Ron had been making a sincere effort to be mature and understanding of her.

"I'm going to find Harry." He said, abruptly quitting the table, leaving Charlie and Hermione alone.

Hermione watched him disappear, scoffing, "He's being a bit sensitive."

"He's only trying to help Hermione." Charlie chided softly, smiling so she wouldn't get the wrong impression. He for one did not want to be on the receiving end of one of her tongue-lashings.

"Well I don't need help."

"Cut him some slack."

Hermione frowned deeply in the older boy's direction, "It isn't any of your business."

"He's my brother."

"I wonder how he would feel then if he knew his 'brother' was kissing his friend." She arched an eyebrow in his direction, it was a challenge.

He could never resist, "Kissed. It only happened twice so don't act as if it's a regular occurrence love." He couldn't help but wink in her direction, holding back laughter at her indignant expression.

"So you won't do it again then?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No!"

Charlie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, "I think you're lying Miss Granger."

"Why did you do it?"

He shrugged, "Just felt like it. I wouldn't read too much into it if I were you."

She seemed offended at his implication that she was taking things too seriously, "I'm not."

"We could do it again if you'd like. Unless you'd prefer Ron? Maybe one of the twins perhaps?" He teased, he loved watching her blush.

"You have quite a way of propositioning women."

"So I've been told. What say you? We could had up to your quaint little room right now..."

"Fred."

"Excuse me?"

"You said unless I preferred one of the twins. If I had to pick it would be Fred." It was her turn to smirk, he was clearly thrown off by her forwardness.

By this point he was leaning very close to her, having been setting on her side of the table during breakfast, "I could owl him for you."

"Charlie?"

"Hmm…" He was taken by her lips plump and light pink, glistening with little beads of milk.

"Would you just kiss me already?"

Of course he complied. Neither gave much thought to their surroundings and their chance of being caught and luck was on their side.

Charlie's hands found their way into her hair and he tugged her head back ever so slightly to give himself access to her neck, placing hungry open-mouthed kisses down to the ridge of her collarbone.

Before Charlie, Hermione had barely even kissed a boy and now she was sure he was marring her newly healed neck. Normally she would have been embarrassed and unsure of herself, but the kiss left her brain foggy and lust filled and all she could register was how good Charlie's mouth felt on her neck.

He slowly made his way back up her slender neck, placing another hard possessive kiss on her lips before pulling just far enough away so that their lips grazed one another's.

"Was that what you had in mind?"

She closed the gap, murmuring something that sounded decidedly like shut up against his lips before kissing him again.

Charlie was perfectly content to stay there all day but unfortunately Hermione came to her senses and pressed her hands lightly but firmly into his chest, pushing him back, "We can't do this down here. Someone could come in."

"Upstairs then?"

She flushed, studying her hands intently, "I'm not…"

"I didn't mean anything improper Hermione." He assured, frustrated that he had caused such an awkward situation. Of course he knew she was a virgin and he had no intention of changing that.

"Do you like me Charlie?"

"Of course, I think you're a great girl."

"No… I mean do you like me."

"Oh."

He wished he could tell her yes but he wasn't a liar. She was a nice girl and he certainly enjoyed kissing her, but she was also very young.

"That's what I thought. Stop kissing me ok?"

He didn't have time to respond as she managed to detach herself from him and quit his presence before he had his wits about him.

Bollocks, he groaned, frustrated with himself, messing things up seemed to be his forte lately.

He planned to talk to her soon, get things sorted out, but the next day she avoided him going so far as to let Ron bore her with Chudley Cannon facts and then suddenly they were gone, off on yet another mission.

The day after they had left Charlie was laying in his reclaimed bed, studying the cracks in the ceiling above him when it hit him. The aching pain in his stomach wasn't on account of a virus or something he had eaten, he was missing her.

His mind wandered to the smell of her hair, vanilla, and her voice, slightly condescending and a little snobbish but music to his ears. And now she was off with Ron, it frustrated him. What frustrated him even more was that the unwanted thoughts of her would not go away, consuming him during her absence.

Charlie Weasley was in serious trouble. He had done exactly what he had promised himself and his brother he wouldn't, he had fallen for Hermione Granger.