The next morning, as if often does, brought with it a sense of clarity. Her delirium of the night before had left her completely and all she wanted from the day was to avoid Mrs. Weasley by all means possible because, as it turns out, she was much worse when Hermione was in a relationship than when she was not. Obviously the entire premise of their little lie was skewed but it was a bit too late to turn back now. Every move they made from here to New Years was about self preservation.

Breakfast according to Molly Weasley's itinerary came much too early for everyone (excluding Bill and Fleur who had been up for hours with Victoire). If not for the mouth watering smell of homemade biscuits, waffles with honey, banana and whipping cream, perfectly poached eggs and crispy bacon there would have been no moving those dozen or so people at seven o'clock in the morning. Full cups of black tea sat waiting for everyone struggling to wake up, freshly squeezed juice for Victoire. If there was ever a breakfast made to tempt children to move closer to home it was this one. Plates were piled high with more food than anyone needed and nobody talked until they were cleaned off. Hermione, for one, was very glad for the silence. Nobody was watching for her to throw herself at her new beau and she could eat in peace.

By the end of breakfast, though, Charlie had gone into boyfriend mode. When she finished her tea he stood up from his seat and made her another cup without asking. He saw that she had basically finished her biscuit in two bites and offered her his, claiming that he had eaten his fill. Every few minutes he would shoot her a flirty smile. Oh, how much more effort Charlie was putting into this facade than she was. She made a mental note to step up her game but could think of no ways to do so. Relationships had never been her forte; the most serious relationship she had been in was her "hot and heavy" month with Ron which included three sub-par kisses and no other changes in their behavior.

"I'm going to show Hermione the spider tree, Mum, and maybe the orchard too. We'll be out for a bit," Charlie announced as the kitchen cleared out.

Molly grinned like she was in on their little secret, "Of course, dear. Though I'm sure Hermione has seen the orchard. Maybe you can show her the stream out past the garden. It is so lovely this time of year."

Charlie laughed, "Mum, it's December. That stream is frozen solid."

Molly huffed, "Well, yes, but it is still a pleasant place to stroll about."

Wordlessly he shot Hermione a look apologizing for his mother's antics but nodded at her, "Yeah, sure Mum."

So they were off on their own day's adventure that kept them far from prying eyes and Hermione could not think of anything that could keep them outside all day but she followed her happy guide as he led them into every crevice of the Weasley's plot of land. They did some laps around the garden exchanging stories of tending too it (both of them had plenty), up and down the rows of the unfamiliar orchard and then through a thicket of tree behind the house that Hermione had never so much as noticed but Charlie seemed to know as well as the Burrow itself. They walked for a few minutes around skinny little trees and oaks that must have been a hundred years old. There was no path that Hermione could make out but Charlie walked most of the way backwards and seemed like he still knew exactly where they were going.

Finally he pulled to a stop in front of one of the biggest trees she had seen in their wanderings. He gestured to it proudly.

"This is the spider tree."

Hermione racked her brain for any readings that may have mentioned a 'spider tree' but she came up empty.

"I don't understand," she admitted sheepishly.

His smile widened, "Of course not. I haven't told you the story. So when Fred and George came home for the holiday after their first year they decided that they would make a sticking potion. Obviously this is well beyond the level of a first year but they were determined. So they swiped my Potions book and found the instructions. So they somehow found all the ingredients-I suspect they swiped them from Snape before we left Hogwarts-and they made the potion. Almost. It had to simmer for a few hours and Mum found it, made them pour it out. Long story short they dumped the batch out beside this tree and the roots absorbed it."

He finished by throwing a galleon from his pocket onto the tree where it stuck immediately.

His story was taken over by her thoughts. It was hard to imagine Fred and George so young, even if she could imagine them doing something like that. Charlie's part was even more unbelievable; for some reason she couldn't see Charlie interacting so easily with his family, living under the same roof, carrying around the same textbooks she had. To her Charlie was still new and strange. Though she had gotten to know a good deal more about him than she had known just days earlier he was still a mystery.

She snapped back to reality at the sound of something tearing. Charlie was walking up the tree.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed loudly, "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

He smiled at her with heart stopping perfection, "Climbing a tree. Wanna try?"

And suddenly she could imagine him just a few years older than the twins. She could see him excitedly teaching his younger brothers how to ride a broom after his first semester. It all played out in her head and made this image of him so much better. Sure now Charlie Weasley was a grown man with scars and facial hair and rippling muscles but he had once been a boy. She could see that part of him sneaking out onto his face now.

What she could not see was herself climbing around that tree so she just laughed and shook her head firmly.

Charlie pouted, "And why not? It's as fun as I remember."

Trying to ignore his contagious grin Hermione snorted, "I would prefer that all my bones stay intact, thanks."

He kicked himself nimbly off the side of the tree that he had been crouching on to land a few feet in front of her, "I can teach you," he offered, "do you trust me?"

She paused to consider the question. Did she trust this man whom she barely knew? She was afraid to lie and she was afraid to tell the truth.

"Why should I?"

He never hesitated in responding, "Why shouldn't you?"

To Charlie it was that simple. He was an inherently trustworthy person and also a very trusting one. If Hermione had asked him the same question he would not have to give it a second thought.

Eventually she caved just like he knew she would. A run to the garden shed and back for a couple pairs of gardening gloves and they were climbing.

"No matter what you do," Charlie repeated for the umpteenth time, "do not touch the tree with your skin. It might scar Mum if I have to rip a chunk of skin off the first bird I date."

No way she was letting that comment slip past her.

"It is not possible that I am the first girl you have dated," she stated.

He laughed, "Obviously, since we aren't really dating.

"You know what I mean. Charlie Weasley, tell me you have had a girlfriend before," she demanded.

Charlie blushed slightly but covered it well, "Well, yes. Not many, have you, and none that my family knows of. I live by myself and I work with three other people, all male. Even if I worked with a gaggle of supermodels you know that dating isn't my priority."

She nodded. Not much she could say to contest that. Hermione had only had a couple boyfriends and a handful of dates herself.

"So," She decided to change the subject, "Are you going to help a lady climb a tree or not?"

"Well what kind of man would I be if I refused," he joked.

As it turns out, climbing the spider tree was not nearly as easy as Charlie had made it look. Just pulling one gloved hand out of the thick sap was more strain than she had experienced in quite a while. Every time she managed to pull one hand off, her momentum would take the other off too and she would go tumbling backwards. Charlie was mostly working as a landing pad for her as she learned how to peel the gloves off without any catastrophes. She could swear that no more than a few minutes had passed when George came to fetch them for lunch.

"Oh no!" she had shouted over dramatically as she took her first steps on solid ground in hours, "my legs won't make it. You'll have to go on without me. Tell me parents I love them."

Charlie threw his head back and let out a thunderous laugh as he bent down to pick her up where she had faux collapsed on the ground.

George wasn't sure whether to laugh or being disgusted with their utter couple-ness. Ind the end he had to laugh. He had not seen his brother look so carefree in a long time. He had a naturally laid back demeanor, of course, but he seemed completely at ease as they walked up to the house on that cool winter day.

Those few hours alone in the woods were the turning point of their "relationship". An easy friendship bloomed from the sap of the old tree and they found that the closer they were the less that were faking. The little conspiratal glances they shot each other across the table, the easy way Charlie would throw an arm over Hermione's shoulders and she would grin up at him, the bottomless fountain of conversation that shot out anytime there was even a moment of silence. Yes, they had a secret and there was something intimate and personal about sharing it with someone who had made you prove nothing to them; no conditions, no rules, only blind trust.

So next few days only got simpler. It was their habit now to spend most of the day outside in the freezing cold having whatever adventure they could find. After Hermione had conquered the spider tree they moved on to the frozen stream snaking around the outside of Molly's garden. It only took one day for Hermione to teach Charlie how to ice skate. There was one professional level game of hide-and-seek that lasted a couple hours, three hours of both of them trying to learn how to whittle, one frustrating hour of teaching Charlie how Muggles made a fire and an entire day dedicated to teaching her how to play the only instrument Charlie could play: the kaval (an odd flute-ish instrument that he had picked up in Romania that Hermione had no talent for).

It wasn't until Christmas Eve that problems arose. Just one problem, really. It was the damn mistletoe that messed everything up. They had both been content with their innocent friendship until they found themselves stuck under the mistletoe with no one else around. At least if there were witnesses thy could convince themselves that it was all part of the act. But everyone else had long abandoned the stuffy couches in favor of their beds. Hermione had been too engrossed in her book and Charlie had fallen asleep already so they were the last ones awake.

How could they have let their grogginess get the best of them? Arthur Weasley set u the mistletoe in the same place every year and they both knew well where that was. Under normal circumstances they could have easily avoided the trap but as it was Hermione had shaken Charlie awake seconds earlier and was feeling drowsy on her own right. So when they found themselves unable to leave the doorway it took them a moment to understand what was happening. Hermione looked up to glare at the insulting weed dangling innocently enough.

Charlie leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek hopefully but nothing happened. There are rules to follow when you get stuck under magical mistletoe and he knew it. Hermione shot him a "nice try" kind of look and bit her lip nervously.

Just when it seemed like they would be standing there all night awkwardly refusing to make eye contact Charlie made up his mind. Sure, a simple peck on the lips would have sufficiently freed them and kept their new found friendship in tact but who thinks that clearly in the dead of night?

Charlie's calloused hands slid on either sides of her face, the pads of his thumbs running up and down her cheekbones forcing the blood to rush her face. His eyes were questioning her every time her moved. Is this what you want? they seemed to ask and Hermione couldn't find it in herself to say no. He pulled her face upwards gentle so that there was an inch between their faces. And in that heavy moment just before a kiss when time stands still and the anticipation is, perhaps, better than the kiss itself Hermione suddenly thought of every single possible reason not to kiss him and decided that none of them were sufficient.

When his lips met hers it was fire. It was like a match had been lit and tossed deep into her chest and was trying to burn its way out. Gone were those sweet, butterfly-soft kisses on her forehead when she went to bed and all that was left was three days worth of pent up desire. A strong hands slipped away from her face to land on her waist and pull her closer. Still closer like he would never get her close enough to him. Hers wandered up to his chest seemingly on its own accord where she grabbed at the fabric of his tshirt and held on for dear life. Seconds might have passed, or minutes, or hours for all they knew but when they pulled apart they were panting for breath and searching the other's eyes for answers where there were none.

Because what could they say? I wish this was real? Never leave me? Those were not options for them. The same reasons why neither of them could hold a serious relationship with any other person were the same reasons why they could never be together. In a week Charlie would be back in Romania and Hermione would be back behind her desk.

Stop! they told themselves but they were magnets. The next kiss was beyond either of their control. It was overflowing with the desperation of two people who don't know they are in love yet trying to communicate feelings they wouldn't dare put into words. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince themselves that it was all the physical attraction; endorphins and dopamines were flooding their systems and giving them feelings that weren't there before.

And whether it was repressed feelings or raging hormones they both had vivid dreams all nights of mistletoe and kisses.