Hermione looked up from the plate she'd washed three times already as the last Order member ambled into the fireplace. Charlie slumped dramatically against the wall with a sigh.
"Finally! I thought that bloke would never leave!"
"He's lonely," Hermione explained, though she felt the same. "His wife passed a few months ago from Dragon Pox."
"Are you sure it was from that and not boredom?"
"Charlie!" she exclaimed, rinsing the sudsy plate in her hand. "That's horrible! He's a very nice man –"
"Who is interrupting the precious little time I get to spend with my woman," he said, his lips at her ear, his arms wrapping around her. He nuzzled and kissed, driving away any thought she'd had about scolding him. "It's a beautiful night, why don't we take that walk?"
"Mmm, that sounds lovely," Hermione agreed, setting the cleaned plate on the drying rack before turning to kiss Charlie properly, soaking in the feel of him against her. It had been weeks since they'd managed more than a quick romp or a few minutes to hold each other in passing. Charlie had been placed on night patrol in the streets of Berlin while Hermione was stuck working countless hours securing shelters and working with the Muggle chancellor on a way to protect the country from further attacks. This left little time for the newfound lovers to meet, so this precious night off Charlie had begged for was sorely anticipated.
When Hermione pulled back, Charlie bent forward, suckling her lips once more until she squealed, yanking her head away.
"Charlie! If you continue like that we'll never make it out of the house, let alone on a walk!"
"Bugger the walk," he growled, nibbling at her throat. Hermione's resolve wavered as heat pooled between her legs.
"Come on, you promised!" she reminded, planting her hands on his chest and pressing him back. She nearly giggled at how cute he looked, his hair falling out of the short tail he'd scraped it into, a petulant air on his face.
"Alright, you win. But only because I like you."
Hermione smirked in victory and Charlie scooped the pre-made picnic basket he'd thrown together before the Order meeting and together, they made their way into the night.
"Are you sure your mother will be alright?"
Charlie snorted. "Gave her enough Sleeping Potion to down a horse."
Hermione chewed her lip. "I hate having to drug her like that…"
Charlie reached for her hand, squeezing it. "So do I, but it's the best thing for her."
Hermione knew he was right. Mrs. Weasley had gone on another tirade in the middle of the meeting, bursting in and demanding to know why they weren't out looking for Ron. Hermione had managed to save most of the dishes by Stunning her after Charlie placed himself behind her to catch her. Her temple was still throbbing where a well-placed mug had connected with it and she rubbed the small bump unconsciously. Charlie looked at her concernedly.
"You should have let me look at that," he said, eying the bruise she knew was likely forming.
"It's fine. I can see where you lot get your quidditch skills from."
Charlie grinned. "When Bill and I were little she used to play with us in the apple orchard. That all stopped when Percy came along and he'd spend the whole time bawling because he got a piece of dirt on his trousers. Then the twins came and she figured there were enough of us to play on our own. She had damn fine aim, though."
Hermione smiled at the image, one of sun and laughter and happiness. A picture that would never be repeated in their dull, dark world.
"I'm never having children," she said lowly. Charlie looked at her in shock.
"Why would you say that?"
She shook her head as they entered the tree line to the small copse that lined their garden to the west. "I couldn't justify bringing a child into this world. How could I subjugate an innocent baby to live a life with a Mudblood mother?"
Charlie darkened. "Don't talk about yourself like that."
"It's true, Charlie. I'm a Mudblood; I'm hunted. I'm Harry Potter's friend. I sealed my fate the day he and Ron saved me from that troll."
Charlie threw his head back on a bark of laughter. "I'd forgotten about that story! The shite you three got into," he shook his head. "But don't you see, those are the kind of memories your children could make someday."
"Maybe. If we when the war."
"When we win the war."
Hermione let the conversation drop, not wanting to sour the mood. They walked along the trail silently, content to be together for a few short hours. Eventually they reached a small clearing where Charlie spread a few choice finger foods and the same mason jars as the night of the meteor shower. Hermione enjoyed tasting her wine on his lips this time, wondering why she'd fought so hard against something so perfect.
Her heart swelled with all-encompassing joy as he took her slowly on the blanket he'd spread, his lips playing over every inch of her body, his hands cherishing her, his body loving her. When he filled her, words of adoration fell from him and she plucked each one with her mouth, joining them body and soul as they came together in passionate rapture.
Hermione sighed in contentment as Charlie rolled to her side, enjoying the way the late summer moon played over her body between the leaves above her. A soft breeze cooled her heated skin and she turned to her panting lover, smiling as his arm came instinctively around her.
"I wish every night could be like this," she murmured, tracing circles in the fine ginger hair beneath her hand.
Charlie pressed his lips to her hairline, staying there for a long moment.
"One day soon," he replied softly, his hand coming to stroke her hair from her sweaty temple. Hermione looked up at him.
"Do you really believe that?" she asked, voicing her fears. Charlie looked at her, his fingers stilling on her cheek.
"I have to. Otherwise, what was it all for?"
They dressed slowly, stilling each other with sultry kisses and lustful glances. Charlie took her hand as they made their way back up the trail, their picnic basket in his other. They began a debate about whether Professor McGonagall had ever been young or if she had simply appeared around the age of fifty, stern and tartan-clad with a detention slip in hand. Tears were running down Hermione's face amid her gale of laughter while Charlie recounted their professor's miraculous conception when they cleared the small wood behind headquarters.
They both froze in their tracks when they recognized Bill's silhouette framed in the kitchen doorway.
"Bloody hell," Charlie muttered, squeezing her hand tightly when she made to pull away. "Damage is done, love. We might as well see this through."
Fear wrapped itself tightly around her vocal cords as she scrambled for any way out of this situation, but there was no possibility that he hadn't seen their entwined fingers.
Bill's face was an unreadable mask as they approached, his arms crossed over his chest. They stopped before him and Charlie brushed his thumbs soothingly over her knuckles.
"Something you needed, brother?" he asked, his voice calm though Hermione could sense the strain underneath.
Bill seemed to be chewing his words, his eyes glancing to their hands and then back up to each of their faces.
"How long?" he asked tersely. Hermione couldn't seem to find her voice and was relieved when Charlie took the lead.
"A couple of months," he answered. "But I've been in love with her a lot longer than that."
Hermione's heart constricted, still not used to his proclamations. A muscle in Bill's jaw twitched. He turned to Hermione.
"And do you?"
Hermione had to swallow before she could speak. "Do I –?"
"Love him."
Hermione looked up at Charlie who appeared unaffected by the encounter.
"Yes," Hermione finally breathed, taking in every rugged line on Charlie's face before turning to the hard and imposing one of Bill's. "Yes, I love him."
He continued to stare at them for a long moment as if choosing his words carefully.
"I had hoped distancing you two by giving you night shifts might stem whatever outrageous ideas you two may have had, but I can see I was a little late in the game."
"It's not outrageous, Bill," Charlie said lowly, his voice hinting that his older brother was treading a dangerous line. "Be careful not to say anything you may later regret."
"I'll leave the regrets to you, little brother," Bill growled, looking from one to the other. "This can only end in heartbreak, for more than just yourselves."
With that he turned on his heel, striding towards the fireplace where he left in a flash of green. Shaking, Hermione tugged her hand from Charlie's and sank onto the back step, her fingers clutching the wood like a lifeline.
"Hermione…"
"Please, just go," she whispered, her throat tightening as her eyes fell on the gravestone across the yard, the last of the pink blooms wilting in the heat. She felt Charlie hesitate, but he strode into the kitchen, a loud crash indicating he'd thrown the picnic basket, making Hermione jump. She heard him shout for Shell Cottage and knew he was taking up where Bill had left off, but she knew it was no use. Bill was right. No matter how things played out, she and Charlie would never end up happily-ever-after. Even if the war ended and they were miraculously still alive, no one would ever approve of their union. They would all see it as a betrayal to Ron.
The worst of it was that they wouldn't be wrong.
Tears streaming, Hermione dragged herself to Ron's grave, laying against it, begging him to forgive her. Reminding herself how much she'd loved him.
Wondering why it didn't stifle the love she felt for Charlie.
…
Several hours and a tear-soaked pillow later, Hermione heard Charlie return. She rolled to the wall, knowing he would come to check in on her, and pretended to be asleep when he eased open her door.
He walked quietly to her side and sat upon the bed, his finger knuckling away another tear as it fell.
"Hermione…"
His voice was so full of sorrow and regret that the tears redoubled and she sobbed into the pillow, burying her face harder against it to muffle the sound. Silently, Charlie drew her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.
"Bill was wrong," he said thickly, stroking her hair as tears soaked his t-shirt. "I can never regret what's between us because it isn't a mistake. I'll never regret loving you, Hermione. No matter how rough the road is ahead, I look forward to it as long as I'm with you."
"And w-what if he comes back?" she choked out, voicing her biggest fear. Charlie squeezed her tighter.
"Then we'll deal with that if it happens. But no matter if Ron rises from the dead or if everyone in my family turns their back on me, I'm going to keep loving you, Hermione. I'll never stop. I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered and felt Charlie smiled against the top of her head.
"I never do."
…
Hermione felt her nails cracking against the ceramic mug in her hands, the black liquid long since gone cold. She took another sip of the bitter brew, knowing she needed the caffeine even as her hands shook bringing the drink to her lips.
"Hermione?"
Her head snapped up to look up at the minister.
"Did you hear me?"
"I'm s-sorry, Kingsley. My mind must have wandered…"
His brow wrinkled in pity. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I know this all must drudge up painful memories. I said we'll reconvene at 0600. Try to get some sleep. Maybe switch to decaf?"
Hermione nodded stiffly, avoiding the accusatory stare from the other man in the room. Kingsley took his leave and Hermione downed the rest of her coffee, rising on jellied legs, her quaking hand knocking over the empty mug as she made for the stairs.
"Hermione…"
She ignored Bill's summons and strode from the room towards the front door, Bill's footsteps following her.
"Hermione, stop, where are you going?"
"Where do you think I'm going?" she snapped harshly, her voice cracking beneath the weight of fear.
"You can't go out there, not like this, it's too dangerous –"
"He's out there!"
"And you won't do him any good if you get yourself killed because you're too exhausted to think straight!" Bill said, grabbing her elbow as she reached for the door. She refused to meet his eyes but felt his burning gaze all the same. "Go to bed, Hermione. Take a Sleeping Potion if you have to –"
"Not until he's back."
Bill swore, his hand dropping from her elbow as he continued to stare.
"You really love him, don't you?"
Tears filled her eyes as they had nearly every hour since Charlie had gone missing on patrol. It had been thirty grueling hours since his partner had burst into headquarters to report his absence. It seemed he'd excused himself for a quick piss and when he hadn't returned his partner had gone searching to find nothing but a scrap of fabric and a stain of blood on the ground.
Hermione hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten. The nightmare of her life had consumed her. She'd been avoiding Charlie for the past two weeks, ever since their encounter with Bill. He'd tried to reach out to her, plead with her to see that their love was nothing to be ashamed of, but her guilty conscience had torn a rift between them that she'd worried could never be mended.
Now she hated herself with every ounce of her being. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let anything come between them? How hadn't she spent every moment in his arms, knowing that the inevitable would happen?
And happen it had. She was reliving every fear she held. The second love of her life was gone in stark similarity to the first. Their love was repulsed by those who were closest to them. She was a disgusting pariah with nothing to show for it. Charlie was gone and the last thing he'd remember was her rebuff to his attempts at reconciliation.
She was shocked into immobility when she felt long arms draw around her, pulling her into a strong chest.
"I'm sorry," Bill murmured, his fingers squeezing. "I'm sorry. Truly. You and Charlie…you've both been through so much. You found solace in each other…and I…I exemplified your every fear, didn't I?"
Hermione didn't trust her voice, discomfited with Bill's sudden warmth as he'd been nothing but cold and demeaning since their last encounter.
"You and Charlie…you make sense. I didn't see it at first but since he…I've had time to think about it and I was wrong, Hermione. You both deserve love. You deserve each other. It couldn't have been easy for either of you and instead of being supportive I only made it worse. I was a git. I was wrong. I'm sorry."
Hermione could only nod, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. Bill tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"You're a part of this family. You have been for a long time. You will keep being a part of this family no matter what happens. And as such, I will always be your older brother. It's my job to keep you safe. I can't let you go out there alone. I can't lose another sister on top of everything…"
"Then come with me," she choked out, barely able to keep rein of her emotions. "I can't stay here while he's out there…"
"Hermione, you were searching all day. You need to rest."
"I can't." Her voice cracked, the tears she tried so hard to keep at bay spilling forth. "Please, Bill, don't ask it of me."
He sighed heavily, his eyes closing momentarily.
"He'll kill me for this," he murmured before reaching for their coats, holding Hermione's open for her. "Come on, then. I never could say 'no' to a beautiful woman."
They Apparated to the tree line behind a factory where Charlie had gone missing, though Hermione had every nuance memorized. It was obvious he'd been ambushed as evidenced by the boot tracks leading to the small pool of blood. There, Hermione tried to tap into the haze of magic surrounding the area, attempting to catch any hint of where they may have taken him. The process was draining and, more than once, Bill was forced to steady her so she didn't crumple to the ground. He begged her multiple times to desist, but she couldn't. She wouldn't stop until Charlie was home and in her arms once more.
Hermione was so deep in her trance that she didn't even hear the pop! of Apparition or hurried conversation, oblivious to the world around her until Bill shook her, yanking her back into the present, his face alight with glee.
"He's back!" Bill nearly shouted. It took Hermione several moments to understand what he was saying, her knees buckling the moment she comprehended. "He's back. He's home. But he's injured; he needs you. Got to pull yourself together, Granger. You need to be strong for him. Alright?"
She nodded mutely, her entire body numb with relief and residual fear. He's back. He's home. He's injured…
"How bad?" she croaked, looking up at Dean who had evidently been sent to inform them.
Dean didn't answer immediately, his eyes darting to Bill before he cleared his throat. "We've…er, we've taken him to St. Mungo's…"
Hermione knew what that meant. The Order avoided the magical hospital at all costs since it was much too easy to be tracked by Death Eaters there. If they'd chanced taking Charlie there, it could only mean one thing…
"Bill," she croaked, her hand gripping his arm tightly.
"Let's go and see him, Hermione," Bill said steadily. She nodded, knowing she needed to be strong for him.
Bill took her arm as he twisted and the sucking sensation of Apparition enveloped her. They landed in the busy entryway where they were jostled about by countless others who had been injured in raids and battles, intermingling with the normal curse backfires and inexpertly brewed potion mishaps.
Bill dragged Hermione's numb body to the Welcome Witch, barreling his way to the front amidst wild protests.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for my brother –"
"You'll have to wait –"
"He's a member," Bill said sternly. It was a silent agreement between the Order and the hospital that members received special treatment when their services were required, though the secret was kept from the public.
"I see. Name?"
"Charles Weasley, he was brought in only minutes ago."
"Ah, yes, he's still being tended to. Do you know where the private waiting room is?" Bill nodded tersely. "I'll have his Healers update you as soon as they can."
"Thank you," he said before leading Hermione down several hallways and into a small room where George and Kingsley waited. They both rose at their entrance, Kingsley re-taking his seat but George bounded forward, embracing his brother.
"He's still alive," the twin grated out, obviously straining to hold it together. Bill enfolded him tightly, comforting his younger sibling.
"And he's going to stay that way," he said gruffly, cradling George's head as the younger man shuddered. "Stay strong, little brother. He needs us."
Figures moved in and out of her vision while she sat for hours in the small room which filled as the hours passed. She stared unseeingly at the beige wallpaper, her mind on every moment she'd spent in Charlie's arms, preparing herself for the news she knew was coming.
She rose on impulse as a woman in bright green robes entered, her eyes roving over the now packed room, centering on the two redheads present.
"I assume you are family?"
Bill reached over to grab Hermione's hand and drag her forward, clenching it tightly as he assured the woman that they were. Her face was grim and Hermione felt her world shattering.
"I'm afraid I have some difficult news."
...
XOXO
RynStar15