The last thing Hermione wanted was to join the party while still so worked up. Drinking a cool glass of water, she stared around the room, trying to think of anything but Charlie, and the way he had felt pressed against her. She counted the pots hanging above the range, and when that didn't work, mentally listed all the ancient runes alphabets she could remember from school until she finally felt ready to join the others.
Grabbing a glass of wine to bring with her (because there was no way she was drinking one that could be spiked), she opened the door with a chirpy "Merry Christmas!" to the gathered Weasleys. Everyone was there, bar the few she knew to be outside. George was seated with Angelina, giving her a knowing smirk and looking behind her as if expecting Charlie to pop out too; Bill had an almost asleep Victoire cuddled into his shoulder while Fleur was standing gracefully, ready to take her upstairs to bed; Percy and Audrey were unexpectedly lounging on the floor with their backs to a wall and looked much more relaxed than usual (she glanced back to George at this assumption and wondered what he had slipped them); Arthur and Molly were standing by the wireless and appeared to be mid-dance as she entered, with Molly singing out whatever song was on; and Ron was over by the food table with his current girlfriend, Lottie, a kind, blonde girl a couple of years younger than them, that he'd met recently while at the Leaky Cauldron. They all happily cheered "Merry Christmas!" back at her as she made the rounds greeting them all.
She kissed Molly on the cheek and thanked her for the invitation, while internally cringing at what had almost happened in her beloved kitchen.
"You're always welcome, dear. We don't see you enough on Sundays, you know, make sure you're not working yourself too hard with that new job of yours!" She patted Hermione's cheek kindly and gestured to the table laden with food where Ron was piling a plate high with turkey and potatoes while talking with his mouthful. "Get some food before Ron eats it all, you look like you need fattening up." Hermione nodded gratefully at the woman and gave her hand a squeeze. Making her way over, she realised she hadn't eaten since breakfast, but wasn't feeling overly hungry after the excitement with Charlie.
Ron saw her coming and swallowed his mouthful quickly, knowing how much it annoyed her when he sprayed her with the food he was eating. "'Mione, Merry Christmas! Have you met Lottie?"
"Yes, we met a few Sundays ago, I think. Merry Christmas, Lottie," she smiled at the girl, who smiled shyly back. She seemed a little awestruck, and could often be spotted looking up at Ron as if all her dreams had come true. This, Hermione supposed, was probably one of the things that endeared her to Ron. He seemed to revel in his fame, whereas Harry and herself shied away from all aspects of it. Although, she did admit to having used it once or twice to get an advanced copy of a book she had eagerly been awaiting, but she certainly wasn't proud of it.
As the couple made their way to a sofa to sit down to eat, Hermione made a small plate for herself and sat down in a corner far from Molly (so she couldn't make a scene about how little she was eating), on a quickly conjured floor cushion, leaning up against the wall with her sheer-stockinged legs in front of her.
"I love your shoes, 'Mi!" Hermione grinned over at the Ange. She and the pretty witch had become quite close since she'd started spending regular time over at the shop, and she often had dinner with her and George after a work update with him.
"You like them now?" She replied cheekily, tapping her shoes together. "Try them on!" She took them off quickly and threw them the short distance to the sofa she and George shared. Ange swapped them for hers with a quizzical look.
"Walk around," Hermione said gleefully, gesturing to the room. Ange walked around for a few steps before her eyes widened and she turned, quite gracefully for an intoxicated person in high heels, back to Hermione.
"You have to teach me whatever you did to these!" She laughed excitedly as she spun and trotted slightly drunkenly about the room. "They're so comfortable! It's like I'm not wearing any shoes! This is crazy! George! Come dance with me!" She began swaying and singing over by the wireless with George's parents.
George's grin fell as he looked over at Hermione with a serious look, and asked in a low tone, "So, are you going to tell me what happened in the kitchen or do I have to ply you with a lot of alcohol first?" Hermione shushed him quickly.
"Nothing happened!" As George's eyes narrowed, she added hastily, "Almost nothing, I swear. I'll fill you in if something does happen, but for Merlin's sake, not here!" She whispered urgently, throwing a guilty glance at Molly. There was no point lying to George, he knew her well now and was far more observant than Harry and Ron had ever been.
George nodded quickly and the smile was back on his face as he looked over at his wife. "Coming, darling!" He nodded over Hermione's shoulder as Charlie entered the room, followed by Harry and Ginny. "Plenty of time to fix that," he quietly added with a covert wink before slipping away to dance.
"Oh good, we're all here! Everyone eat up!" Molly's shout was echoed by an, "and drink up!" from George, followed by a cheer from the others. Hermione smiled happily as she watched the antics around the room, picked at her food, and sipped her wine. She loved the Weasleys.
As she set her plate aside, she was joined by two dragon-clad feet. Following the socks upwards, past strong thighs, Charlie loomed over her holding a plate.
"May I sit?" He gestured to the empty floor space beside her. His polite, innocent tone shocked her a little. He seemed to have done a complete one-eighty. Charlie must've read her thoughts from her expression because he smiled and held up his spare hand in surrender. "Best behaviour, I promise."
"Of course!" She quickly conjured him his own floor cushion (with a Hungarian Horntail on it) and gestured to it with a smirk. He appeared to contemplate it for a second before sitting down.
"Impressive. Almost a shame to sit on it," he remarked with a smile as he lowered himself down. He stretched his long legs out beside hers so they were almost brushing. "Comfortable, too."
To her surprise, she and Charlie chatted happily for quite some time. She had assumed things would be awkward between them and they wouldn't find much in common past their mutual attraction, but she was happily proved wrong. The sexual tension from earlier didn't rear it's head as they described what they'd done since seeing each other at Harry's party, what their Christmas had been like so far (hers had a been a bit dysmal considering the awkwardness hat lingered between her and her parents during their short phone call that morning, and his had been loud and chaotic surrounded by a lot more people than he was used to), and what they loved about their jobs. They were just discussing his views on dragon heartstring use in wand-making when George spoke loudly from a cluster of Weasleys standing by an enlarged drinks table.
"Oi, you two! Come join us, we're going to play a game!" Looking up, Hermione realised that she and Charlie were the only ones not around the table, and she hadn't noticed the rest of them moving.
Charlie got to his feet gracefully, and offered Hermione a hand up. "I'm sure you were taller earlier. You're back to your tiny, pixie, self. Where are your shoes?" He smiled at her and brushed a guiding hand across her back as she started towards the others. A ripple of tension ran through her at the contact.
"Ange has them, I charmed them comfortable, and now I'm unsure if I'll ever get them back." She raised her voice as she replied and looked over at Ange, who beamed at her and shook one of the shoes in question in her direction. Rolling her eyes, she looked questioningly at George. Everyone was circled around the round table with a corresponding drink in front of them.
"So, here's the rules. You can move the drinks as many times as you want. At least one of the drinks around this table has been spiked with Granger's Singalong Slurps." At this, Hermione interjected with a quick, "Not mine!" to which George stuck his tongue out at her and continued in a more forceful tone: "Granger's Singalong Slurps! You may not refuse, you may not sniff glasses, you may not taste more than the drink that you end up with. Once we are all happy and agree with the placement of glasses, we will all, all, down our drinks. Then I will turn the music up, and we'll enjoy the show. All understood? Good, you may begin."
There was a frantic rush to steal the glass in front of George first, and then a general suspicious swapping of glasses across the table. Molly and Arthur looked on bemusedly as their children shifted the glasses back and forth and when the glasses finally came to rest, both eldest Weasleys leant forward to grab a different glass.
The glasses glinted innocently with wine and looked no different from the one she had just finished while talking with Charlie. That was one of the perks of pranking someone with a Singalong Slurp. It looked no different to usual, it just smelt mildly of blueberries, which when mixed with wine, was difficult to detect. The effect wasn't evident until you heard music, at which point you felt compelled to sing and dance wildly along with it, to hilarious results. The effects lasted different lengths of time depending on how much Slurps was added to your drink, but she could bet from the glint in George's eye, he had been generous with his portioning this time.
"Right. If we are all happy, please pick up your glasses." Everyone did with more than a little trepidation. "Cheers, Merry Christmas!" he raised his glass to the centre of the table and there was much clinking and toasting. Charlie bumped his hip into Hermione's before he took a drink, and gave a quietly breathed, "good luck!" which she returned.
The wine straight away smelt like the blueberries she was looking out for, and her stomach dropped with dread. She obediently downed it like everyone else, and tried to think of a way out of this. She was going to make such a fool of herself in front of Charlie. In front of everyone.
George stepped up to the quiet wireless and everyone gathered in the cleared dancing space with bated breath. He held his hand over the volume dial for a prolonged, dramatic amount of time, eyes shining with mirth. Maybe she should make a run for it? His locked eyes with Hermione's as if sensing what she was thinking and turned the volume up, loud.
The effect was immediate.
Lyrics she didn't know she knew ripped from her throat as she began to sing as if her life depended on it. But, while her arms and legs flailed to the rhythm of the upbeat Christmas song, she quickly noticed every single other person was caught under the Singalong Slurps spell too.
Laughing with relief between verses, she sashayed across the room, and watched the rest of the Weasleys bopping, twirling, boogieing about, singing in different keys at the top of their lungs. It was probably one of the funniest and most chaotic things she'd ever witnessed. Fleur looked to be dancing a graceful ballet, next to Bill who appeared to be trying to breakdance poorly with incredible self-confidence.
"Relax into it, it's worse if you fight it!" She told Charlie between songs, whose movements had appeared jerky. She watched him take her advice with a deep breath as the next song started. His dancing became fluid and his voice became melodic. Harry and Ginny held onto eachother and their dancing became sychronised. They shouted the lyrics into eachothers grinning faces point blank and looked like they couldn't be happier with the situation. Everyone saw this as a good option to not embarrass themselves alone, and rapidly danced over to their significant others and held on.
Hermione, of course, not one to be left dancing alone in a room full of couples, happily grabbed Charlie and slid her hand into his. He beamed down at her as she held his strong shoulder in her other hand and waltzed around the room, his deep voice serenading her, and hers harmonising the ballad.
She could tell when it started to wear off, as the volume of their forced singing became quieter, and her movements felt more her own again. Charlie held her tighter against him as if worried she would move away from him now she had control of herself. She looked up at him with a smile and felt herself finally stop singing, even as he continued to croon softly to her. The other couples on the floor continued to dance (although with much less vigour) until the end of the song, when George turned the music down and everyone turned to him with a round of applause.
"That was, without a doubt, the BEST thing I have ever seen." Harry remarked happily, wiping the remaining tears of laughter from his eyes. "Probably my favourite memory of your products so far, George. Definitely patronus worthy."
"Ah, no, no, no, not my product, Harry, my boy!" George dismissed with a grin towards Hermione as they all slumped wearily onto the sofas again. "'Mi over there takes the credit for that one."
Hermione huffed out an aggravated sigh as Charlie led her back to flop down onto their floor cushions. "Not this again, George, please, it's not mine! It was your idea, your potion ingredients, your shop, your product. I just did the equations."
"You did the equations, realised none of my ingredients would work, then created your own formula using ingredients that did succeed, which you then presented to me. It is yours. All those in agreeance, say 'Aye'!"
There was a resounding "Aye!" from around the room as the others happily agreed, even Charlie, who had not heard this argument before like everyone else. Hermione shot him a betrayed look, huffed again and put her head against the wall behind her, chest still heaving from the exertion of dancing.
"I won't rest until you accept the credit where it is due, fair Hermione, for I am a gentleman, and I cannot bear to see you without the recognition you are owed!" George said with a dramatic bow in her direction. Hermione snorted and lazily conjured a small pillow to throw at him.
It was true, he had tried for months to give her a percentage of the profits of the Slurps and she had just recently gotten sick of the pestering and battered him down to 15%. He had originally tried to give her everything. Despite all her reasoning and debating, he would not budge from 15% and the proceeds had already filled her Gringotts vault a considerable amount. The Slurps were incredibly popular.
George had even gone one further and asked if she wanted to join the company. There was certainly enough work for her, potions and spell creation as she wanted, and a job security for the future she didn't quite have yet. It was extremely tempting, and George kept upping the list of benefits he would give her if she joined him. Despite this, Hermione felt she couldn't accept. Running her own business meant she was learning so many new skills, discussing potions with some of the best potioneers, gaining confidence talking to people professionally, negotiating, and making a name for herself that was separate from her unwanted fame.
Charlie's thigh pressed against hers and brought her sharply out of her thoughts. The others had started small quiet conversations around the room and no one was paying any attention to their corner.
"It really was incredible, Hermione. You should be proud. Own it." He said quietly. His smile was kind, but his eyes were dark as the hand resting on his own thigh moved and his little finger trailed discreetly along her upper thigh.
"Thanks," she replied, bringing her knees up to shield what his hand was doing. Charlie mirrored her, his gaze sweeping the room for any onlookers and finding none.
They continued talking from where they'd left off earlier about wand-making, but Hermione was finding it harder and harder to concentrate as his fingers traced the cabled pattern of her dress near her hip. She moved her hand across to his and he stroked rough fingers slowly over the back of it, testing her. Heat pulsed through her and she marvelled at her strong reaction to such a small touch. Was it the thrill of possibly getting caught or just her intense attraction to him? They hadn't taken their eyes off eachother to maintain their facade of a conversation, and she was pleased to see his pupils dilate and an intense expression on his face which belied what they were talking about. He wasn't unaffected by this, either. He slid his hand underneath hers to rest on her thigh, and squeezed possessively. She took a deep breath in through her nose. What were they talking about? Hermione didn't think she could even tell you who the Minister for Magic was, if she was asked. Her entire focus was on what that large hand could do to her. What she wanted it to do to her.
A loud clap brought her slamming back to reality and Charlie removed his hand hastily with an apologetic smile in her direction. She shook her head to show she understood and looked to George, who, once again, had interrupted them.
"Alright, ladies and gents, if you could all shuffle outside, into the freezing cold, we better do these fireworks before we all doze off in our chairs like old ladies." He gestured outside in a hurrying gesture to them all. Charlie sprang up to help her up again, which she was grateful for, as getting up off these cushions gracefully was harder than he made it look.
Ange reluctantly shuffled out of Hermione's shoes and grumbled back into her own. As everyone threw their cloaks on and headed into the frosty winter's night, Hermione slipped into her heels and bent down to do up the small buckle, giving Charlie an unhindered view of her arse as she did so. As she stood back up, his guiding hand was more possessive and heavy on the small of her back. "I'm doing my best here, baby, but you're making it very difficult to show restraint." He murmured hoarsely into her hair. She gave him a look that was apologetic, but her eyes were shining with victory.
"Hold on! My cloak!" She said, turning quickly to lean around his arm and summon it from the kitchen. The silvery material shot out and with seeker's reflexes, Charlie caught it before she could, and swung it around her shoulders, fingers grazing her neck and leaving goosebumps behind as he did so. Deft hands did up the clasp and she took a deep breath and soldiered on towards the door before they could get too distracted.
The light from the stars and crescent moon was blocked mostly by the trees as they traipsed to the clearing where the fireworks were set up. This area was warded from the muggle eye and was where they usually played quidditch. They all eagerly spread out in a large semi circle around the edge of the orchard, and George rushed off to the large shadowy mound of fireworks to light the fuse before jogging back to Angelina with a grin of anticipation. The couples all stood tightly together, huddling against the sharp wind, whereas she and Charlie were a more appropriate distance away from eachother, with his large body standing between her and the wind buffeting them. Hermione cast a strong warming charm over them both to which she received a surreptitious squeeze of her hand in thanks before she tucked it back into her cloak for warmth.
Shoots of colour streaming upwards and delayed loud bangs signaled the start of the fireworks and they all watched as a magnificent display lit up the sky in front of them. The noise and colours captivated them all, and there were many 'ooh's and 'ah's as the magical roman candles burst and rained sparks of all colours down over them. The sparks seemed to have a mind of their own and flowed around them like a flock of swallows. Hermione reached out a hand from her cloak to touch a spark gently and it danced away from her fingers as if scared. She couldn't contain her joyous laugh at the sight, it was incredible magic.
As she gazed at the amazing displays of pyrotechnics before her, she felt eyes on her. Charlie was looking down at her with a small smile. He turned his face back up to the lights, but reached a hand out to grasp hers before it could disappear back under the folds of her cloak. He had moved closer to her as they watched and they stood there silently holding hands, sheilded from the others by his body and their distraction.
His hands were warm and rough against hers, his calloused thumb rubbing small distracting circles over the back of her hand. Charlie was standing so close she could feel his body heat radiating from him. He very slowly leant sideways, so the side of his body was leaning into hers slightly. She shook her head faintly to try to refocus on something that wasn't Charlie Weasley, and heard him chuff a soft laugh into the air.
Huge, brightly coloured magical creatures gallivanted across the stars above them, enacting great scenes of combat, and acting out tales of love. As the last of the creatures faded away, there was a final great bang, a flurry of colourful sparks and huge letters spelled out 'Merry Christmas!" and the WWW logo which lingered in the air as silence fell. This prompted everyone into another loud round of applause for George (to which he bowed profusely), and Charlie eased away from her again. She missed his warmth immediately.
Soft, tired, chatter followed the group as they made their way back to the house. Charlie slowed his pace so they were once again out of earshot of the others.
"Hermione," he peered down at her in the darkness, and she back at him. "I would like very much to continue this night with you." She sucked in a breath and almost stumbled. His quick bracing arm around her waist righted her, and didn't retract. She should've expected him to be so bold about it, after how shameless he was in the kitchen. He glanced ahead of them, then moved them sharply behind a tree, pushing her against it with an arm either side of her head, looking at her with a wicked smirk. "You've seen my best behaviour, now I want you to see my worst."
His words caused her mind to stop turning, then restart, double time. What were her reasons for not jumping into something like this with Charlie? She struggled to remember them now, with him so close whispering about bad behaviour. Romania? Ron? Her traitorous mind whispered to her, it could just be a fling, no one would have to know...
"Your family- " she started, hoarsely.
"Wouldn't know a thing. No strings. Just mind-blowing Christmas sex. Think of it as a present," he added with a grin. She laughed loudly at his confidence. That did sound perfect. She reached out a hand and pressed it against his chest and nodded. He let out what sounded like a relieved breath and moved away quickly.
When Hermione shot him a confused look, he took her hand and started to walk them briskly to catch up to the others. "What's your floo address?" He asked quickly, as the others came into view once more.
"It's just 'Granger's flat'," she whispered, and he nodded, commiting it to memory.
"I'll be there as soon as I can get away." He dropped her hand and moved a polite distance away as they got close to the light from the house.
The others all seemed tired as they got back inside, and to Hermione's glee, most were murmuring about bed. It had been a long, busy, Christmas day for them, she supposed. Hermione feigned a yawn, which set off a few others, as she had meant it to. She said a round of thank yous and goodbyes (making sure hers to Charlie was chaste in front of the others), and flooed to her flat, her heart racing in anticipation.