The Red Line

The only clear memory from that night was the various shades of red – the shocking color of his family's hair, the burgundy shirt he had put on in his haste to get to Hogwarts and the rusty red blood spilt in the name of freedom.

He hadn't seen her until the end came, when Harry disappeared into the dark woods to face him. They had stood shoulder to shoulder then, throwing hexes and curses at the swarm surrounding them.

"Nice one Hermione!" He complimented when she sent a particularly greasy witch flying into the throng of death eaters. She had managed a smile for him before turning back to the task at hand. Her hexes, he admired, were perfect.

Much later when victory had been announced he stumbled into the Great Hall, easily picking out his family in the crowd. His heart stopped when he reached them.

They lay side by side, hair matted with blood a shade or two darker than the bright red and their faces screwed up in pain. Dead. His mother was sobbing over them, muttering their names over and over – Percy and Ginny, Ginny and Percy.

The world seemed to stop mid-tilt then and the sounds from the surrounding chaos disappeared. They were dead – his brother and sister were dead. His breath quickened and his eyes blurred as he willed away the tears, he barely registered the soft feeling of her hand in his own.

"I'm sorry Charlie." Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. When he had approached the group, she had been leaning into Fred for support, Ron on her other side but when he had arrived, she had quietly made her way over.

Harry, he noted, looked emotionless, his face void of expression. He looked like one of the living dead and then the horrifying realization hit Charlie, they were never coming back. Percy would never scold them again; Ginny would never stare adoringly at Harry or boss Ron around with that snarky smirk that resembled the twins.

He squeezed her little hand tightly in his own – he would not cry. His eyes met Bill's, they stood across from each other, and the mutual pain was acknowledged. Heavily wounded, Bill was slouched against Fleur's shoulder, crying more unabashedly than Charlie.

Tears of joy and devastation surrounded them as Kingsley Shacklebolt tried to maintain the semblance of order. He could see people beginning to circle them, trying to earn Harry's attention but the boy was ignorant to it. He had kneeled down by Ginny's side, taking her cold limp hand between his own.

A healer appeared with two transporters, quietly explaining that the two bodies needed to be moved. His mother was inconsolable, either twin holding her up as the healer spoke to her. Shacklebolt had reached them at this point, McGonagall close behind. He offered a small smile at his old teacher and she returned it sadly.

"You can all stay here tonight. I've designated the sixth year boy's dorm in Gryffindor for you and your parents can stay in my guestroom." The elderly woman nodded towards the stairs, "Go up now, I will stay with your parents."

Even at twenty-five Charlie still felt compelled to obey Professor McGonagall and joined his siblings on the slow march up the stairs, his hand still entwined with hers.

The portrait opened without a password, casting pitying glances at the group. Harry and Ron lead the way, both stunned into despondent silence. There were five beds, Fleur and Bill quickly claimed the one furthest from the door pulling the curtains tightly around them and the twins silently agreed to share the one next to it. It would have been more sensible for the boys to share, but both Harry and Ron claimed their own beds and nobody felt like arguing with them about it.

"You take the bed, the floor is fine for me." Charlie said softly, his voice gravely as ever as he released her hand.

She shook her head, "No you take it. I won't be able to sleep anyway."

"Hermione…"

"Share it then?"

He was surprised at her boldness and nodded quietly walking around the bed to his preferred side, he turned his back and stripped out of his dirt and blood covered clothing, muttering a quiet cleansing charm over his boxer-clad body before slipping into the covers. A minute later the bed dipped and the curtains drew closed.

The sobs were quiet hiccups at first, gradually growing in volume despite her attempts at stifling them. He had succumbed to his own silent tears as soon as his head hit the pillow, but her unabashed tears were not what he had expected.

Charlie wasn't used to girls crying, Ginny and his mum went to his father or Bill and he had only seen them cry a handful of times. Without being asked he closed the distance between them quickly, pulling the younger girl into a tight embrace, her cheek resting on his chest, dampening it with tears.

The silence of the dormitory was painful, the others must have cast silencing charms around their beds for Charlie was sure the twins were talking and that atleast Fleur would be crying. Hermione for her part had stifled her tears, and curled comfortably into his body.

Sleep wasn't a possibility and it took all his power to keep his eyes squeezed shut, ignoring the images of his dead brother and sister that played before his lidded eyes.

"Charlie?" She whispered into the night air, tugging at his hair gently.

He opened his eyes, adjusting them to the darkness until he could focus on her. She had slithered further up the bed so that they were face to face.

"Yes Hermione?"

"I just, I –"

She didn't need to ask because he already knew the question. The distance between them was miniscule and he closed it quickly, kissing her with an abandon he had never before allowed himself to experience.

Her body responded eagerly, her mouth falling open to better accommodate his hungry kisses and her hips bucked involuntarily into him. He stifled a groan.

She had brought her hands up to tangle in his hair as he manuevred them so that his upper body lay on top of hers and their legs entwined. He was waiting for her to stop him and say that he had gone to far, but she didn't.

Instead she pushed up into the kiss, letting out her own groan when his hands ghosted over her t-shirt clad breasts. Charlie was certain they should stop right there but reasoned a few more minutes of kissing never hurt anyone.

When they did separate she stared up at him with sad eyes, "It's ok to cry Charlie."

And so he did, falling ontop of her and letting out heaving sobs. She held him there, ignoring the weight on her lungs until he fell asleep. She followed soon after, still tangled up in his arms.

So there you go! Super short, I'm sorry. I've been crazy busy moving home from school but expect a new chapter Friday or Saturday and the sequel to Expectations Truths and the Tale of Beedle the Bard will have the first chapter up tomorrow for sure! Enjoy!