"Charlie, for Merlin's sake –"
"Get out of my hair, woman, I'm fine –"
"Not if you don't get your stubborn arse back into bed this instant! The Healers said –"
"That I would make a full recovery, now quit flapping about and make a poor bloke a cup of tea, won't you?"
Hermione glared at him, her arms crossed as she stood stationary in his doorframe, her ward hobbling to his dresser.
"You're not supposed to be on that leg," she lectured, watching agonizingly as he grabbed a clean shirt from his drawer. She could practically feel his eyes rolling from across the room.
"You know, I'm starting to regret not snuffing it when I had the chance."
Hermione felt all the blood leave her face.
"Don't even joke," she breathed, barely able to speak past the horrifying image of him stock-still in a hospital bed, one foot out the door and the other following suit. He'd been tortured for thirty-two grueling hours on the whereabouts of the new headquarters, barely escaping after his captor accidentally wandered too close with his wand. Charlie had managed to wrestle it free and Apparate back to quarters where he'd been found by Dean and Seamus. The surgery to save his leg had lasted hours and no one knew if he would survive the blood loss.
Charlie turned at the ache in her voice, his face immediately contrite.
"Hermione, shite, I'm sorry, that was tactless…"
The terror of how close he'd been to joining his deceased family was still garishly fresh in her mind, the pain of it still slicing through her keenly. Charlie started forward at her reaction, grimacing when his knee buckled. Hermione darted to his side, taking his weight and pressing him back towards the bed. He was so weak he had no choice but to follow her suit and fell heavily onto the mattress, panting.
He tugged her beside him and drew her into his arms, his lips coming to the top of her head.
"That was cruel, I'm sorry. I can only imagine if it had been you in that bed…"
Hermione gripped him tightly, burying her face against his chest. She remembered the Healer's prognosis, no one anticipating he'd make it through the night. But she'd sat by his side squeezing his hand, begging him to stay, reminding him of his promise until his eyes had opened.
"You couldn't possibly," she said hollowly. "I don't know what I'd do if…"
"Hush now," he soothed, dragging her closer. "You don't have to. You're mine, and there's not a thing in this world that's going to take you from me, death included."
She shuddered, the images refusing to break their hold.
"I never should have pushed you away…"
"Stop, Hermione. You can't punish yourself forever. I always knew you'd find your way back to me. Although I didn't anticipate it would require a band of ruthless Death Eaters…"
She smacked his chest lightly and he grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Now, you've worked so hard to get me back into this bed it would be only right if you were to join me…"
"Enough, it's time for your potions," she said, pulling away though she allowed him to tug her back easily.
"Come, nurse Granger, see to your aching patient," he murmured, making her lips quirk and his potions more than an hour late.
It was weeks before Charlie was strong enough to rejoin the troops, a cheer going out as he entered the kitchen for his first meeting back. Hermione had protested, but he'd dragged her tooth and nail down the stairs. He eyed the mound of food waiting on platters at the table as a drink was pressed upon him for a toast.
"Not your cooking, I hope?" he jested. Hermione elbowed him.
"You've skirted death enough. I got Dean to help," she replied, hiding a smile at his secret laugh. George raised his tankard to the room.
By the time the conversation fell to the next mission, Charlie's cheeks were as warm as the Firewhiskey. Having purposefully kept his decanter filled, Hermione pulled his attention away from the planning.
"Love, why don't you head up to our room?" she murmured softly, evading the ears of the others who were listening to Kingsley raptly.
"The minister is talking, you deviant," he smirked, keeping his focus on the large man as Shacklebolt magicked a map to hover behind him.
"Are the minister's needs more important than mine?" she crooned, reaching beneath the table to squeeze his thigh. He turned to her, his eyes darkening.
"You have a fair point, Miss Granger," he said, drinking her in. "You win. Head on up, I'll tell them my leg is hurting and meet you there."
"Why don't you go –"
"You better be topless before I get there."
"Just tell them your leg is hurting now and I'll –"
"– where Miss Granger will be waiting with the ring. Bravo team, I'll need you –"
"Wait, what?" Charlie snapped, sitting up and making Hermione flinch. Her grip on his leg tightened.
"Charlie, you should –"
"What ring?" he asked, Kingsley looking at him confusedly.
"Marvolo's ring, I thought Miss Granger briefed you?"
"He's just tired, he needs to rest –" Hermione intervened, putting as much distance between them as possible even as she took his arm to pull him to his feet. "Come on, Charlie, it's time for your –"
"Briefed me on what?" he hounded, holding his hand out to still her.
"It's nothing, just a simple –"
"What ring, Hermione?"
She hesitated, every eye in the room on their exchange. As Bill remained the only person aware of their affair, Hermione could only imagine what the outburst looked like. She bit her lip, scrambling for control of the situation.
"This was clearly too much too soon, you've had too much to drink, we can discuss this tomorrow," she muttered, flashing her eyes at the gawking crowd. Charlie took them in, his jaw tightening.
"You've been trying to push me out of this meeting all night," he accused, his eyes falling to the bottle she'd kept at hand. "What is it you're trying to hide?"
"You don't need to worry about –"
"I do if it concerns you," he growled. "Now explain yourself, dammit!"
Hermione's heart raced as the room watched with bated breath, George's brow creasing at his brother's exclamation.
"I…I found the Resurrection Stone…in-inside Marvolo Gaunt's ring…erm…Tom Riddle's grandfather…"
"You what?" he thundered. "How? What?"
"It's a long story, we should –"
"Endeavor to abridge it!"
"Erm…well, the stone…you need it to complete the Hallows and I thought Harry might have…so I went to the Forbidden Forest…"
"The Forbidden Forest?" he continued, looking murderous. "Which is Death Eater occupied?"
"Yes, well, I found it, Harry must have dropped it or left it on purpose, I don't know, but erm…now we…we have it…so…"
He swelled.
"No."
"Charlie…"
"I forbid it, Hermione."
"You can't forbid –"
"I will in this!" he thundered, rising to tower over her. "It's suicide –"
"We have it all planned out!"
"I don't care what your bloody plan is, unplan it now!"
She looked to Bill for assistance and Charlie bore down on him.
"You knew about this?"
He nodded, rocking on his heels where he stood behind a bewildered Kingsley.
"We've been working on it for weeks. I'm sorry, brother, it's the best plan we have."
"The best plan you have is to put the woman I love on a platter for the Dark Lord?" he thundered, limping towards him dangerously as the room exploded at his proclamation.
"I'm sorry –"
"Your sorry is not good enough! I won't have it!"
"You can't stop me, Charlie," Hermione stated. She rose, the damage done. "I'm doing this."
"Like hell!" he raged, bearing down on her, fear brightening his eyes. "I will lock you in this damn house if I have to!"
"Gryffindor, remember?" she whispered, seeking to calm him as the room around them seethed. She could see that night in Berlin wash over him, his shoulders tightening.
"Don't…" he breathed, looking at her desperately. Her heart skittered.
"I have to."
His body rocked as he warred with himself, his fists clenching. Then, with the entire room clinging to them, he strode forward and took her lips.
Hermione gasped with the others as he yanked her up, grappling for a hold of his sanity as he dove into her.
"I'm coming with you," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. The pit of her stomach dropped and she shook her head.
"You can't, you're not strong enough –"
"You're mine," he growled as George cursed across the room. "I protect what's mine."
"You can barely walk let alone –"
"If it's not up for debate with you then it's not up for debate with me," he said. Hermione stuttered.
"It's not…it's not the same…"
"It is. Fair is fair. I'm a Gryffindor too, remember?"
Fear pressed forcefully against her vocal cords. His fingers tightened as he watched the emotion play over her. Her eyes closed.
"Please…" she begged.
"I'm not backing down and I know neither are you. So, let's get back to this plan because we have a Darth Vader to destroy."
Her eyes whipped open in shock to see his beautiful grin and she cocked her head.
"Excuse me?"
"I have to teach my Luke Skywalker how to chop vegetables, after all."
"How in Merlin's name do you know about Star Wars all of a sudden?"
"Had some time to read while you were out hunting Hallows."
She giggled, weaving her fingers between the ones buried in her hair. She allowed his love to strengthen her.
"Okay. Let's go kill my father."
…
Hermione ran her thumb over the etching of the stone next to Ron's. She breathed in the roses which bloomed around them, her heart warming with their fragrance.
She and Ron had wished many times over the years to give him a resting place, but they'd never settled on the words to say or where he should lay.
It had suddenly come so easily when she'd held the Hallows in hand.
Harry Potter
The man who conquered death to give us life
She'd buried the objects beneath the stone, the wand snapped in half so it could never be used again. She recalled the power that had thrummed inside her when she'd stolen it from Voldemort, the suddenly overwhelming urge to conquer filling her veins. She'd turned on her enemies, on those she loved, intending to seize their control until Charlie had pulled her into his arms.
His love had drawn her back, had reminded her of her purpose, of her identity. His love helped her destroy it. And then his love had pulled her from the brink when she realized what the wand had almost made her do.
She'd returned to this spot every day since the battle and she had lost track of how many days it had been. She had spent most of her life fighting and now that the fight had ended, she felt adrift. Lost. Without purpose.
There was work to be done, Merlin knew, to rebuild the world Voldemort had sought to destroy, but who was she in the midst of it without the men she'd fought so hard to save it with?
When the rain started she rose, turning back to the house which was now just a house and no longer a headquarters. She stood in the middle of a yard which had no barrier. She looked up at the same stars peeking between clouds that she'd stared at so long ago with Charlie on a checkered blanket. It was strange to be on the other side of the girl who had wondered if the war would ever end. To be so far from the girl who had once sat beside her best friends in front of a roaring fire in the common room, berating them for not doing their homework. To now be the girl who had defeated Voldemort.
"Hermione."
She turned to where Charlie was framed in the doorway. He'd been endlessly patient as she'd withdrawn, as she'd fallen into silence in this new and strange world. He held her every night while she stared into the dark, remembering the feeling of hatred that had consumed her when the Elder Wand had bent to her will. He'd reminded her every morning that she had taken back control no matter what the Elder Wand had made her feel. He'd stood in the same doorway every single day as she'd fought to find herself within the memories of her friends.
She stood amongst the storm, soaking, just looking at him. He was so beautiful, his warmth radiating into her freezing veins. His devotion had seen them through the prejudice that followed their declaration of love. His strength had helped the Order to rebuild and his mother to step from her room for the first time in months.
She loved him with every fiber of her being and hated that she couldn't show him.
Tears filled her eyes at the enormity of her inadequacy. He strode forward as she wept, wrapping his arms around the pitiful shell she had become.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed against his chest. He hushed her, dragging her tighter.
"What do you have to be sorry about?"
"I don't deserve you."
He tugged her face up to him, rain cascading between them.
"What could possibly make you think that?"
"I just…I feel so lost…I don't know what to do…"
He chuckled, a stark contrast to the sorrow welling inside her.
"Is that it? Love, all you had to do was ask."
Her brow furrowed in confusion.
He kissed her softly, his thumb caressing her cheek.
"I know how much you love lists, so let's start with step one," he murmured, his blue eyes sparkling against the torrential night sky. "We need to get you a dress."
"A dress?"
"Yeah, that's what all of your Muggle books say. I'm not so much about the big poofy ones, but if that's what you prefer, then I'll oblige."
"I…what?"
"Well, then next is the cake. Chocolate, obviously, on that I won't budge. Item number three is the venue. Now, I'd had a thought about that. How do you feel about dragons?"
Hermione was speechless, stammering up at him as he smirked. When she continued to stare at him dumbfounded, he smacked himself on the forehead.
"Merlin, that's my fault, I got some things out of order. Apologies, my love, all those Muggle books…"
The breath fell out of her as he knelt in the muddy grass, pulling a box from his pocket.
"Now, I know I'm just a lowly Pureblood, but I did try ever so hard to get something right, so please be gentle," he said, opening the box to reveal the most gorgeous ring she'd ever set eyes on.
"Charlie…" she croaked, nonplussed.
"Hermione Granger, Master of Death, Savior of the World, Brightest Witch of Our Age, Luke Skywalker of Earth, Gryffindor, and, most important of all, deplorable chef," he grinned. "Will you marry me?"
She memorized every drenched strand of red, every drop of water on his eyelashes, every minuscule line on his face, and every freckle that dotted it. She fell to her knees and took his hands, staring at the gift he offered. Then turned to the stones behind her.
"It doesn't seem fair…" she whispered. Charlie turned her chin back towards him.
"They gave everything so that the world could have this chance. You risked everything so that others might. Why isn't it fair that you take it yourself?"
Guilt tugged at her heart, thinking of all her friends who would never feel the happiness she'd found within Charlie's arms.
"Honor their sacrifice by living, Hermione," he said, cupping her cheek. "And please live that life with me."
Gripped speechless by the emotion he wrought within her she finally nodded and kissed him, pouring her love into every silent word. He shoved the ring onto her finger without leaving her lips, both of them grinning so hard it was hard to kiss efficiently. But then she was in his arms and he was striding across the yard.
"Wait!" she cried, stopping him in the doorway. He looked at her confusedly, their thrumming bodies protesting the disturbance. "Who's catering?"
He grinned.
"I have a sous in mind."
...
A/N: Hope you enjoyed my first Charmoine! Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading.
XOXO
RynStar15