Wow! I wasn't expecting such quick and positive feedback, so thank you very much! This chapter was already in the works so I finished it up so I could post it. There won't be a regular posting schedule for this story, I'll just post the chapters as I'm able to write them, but I'll do my best to not let it go too long in between. Please let me know what you think of the story!
He was accustomed to waking up to silence, a certain stillness in the wee hours of the morning as the sun rose over the horizon and spilled through the windows of his cabin. He was accustomed to hauling himself out of bed at the crack of dawn, brewing himself a pot of coffee and cooking a quick breakfast before heading out to spend his day with the dragons. He was accustomed to solitude, to silence, to a certain tranquility in the mornings.
Luckily for Charlie, most of the Weasleys were late sleepers. He awoke with the sun, unable to help his internal clock. He was used to waking up early, now, and he couldn't sleep in even if he wanted to unless he was ill.
He rose out of bed, scrubbing his hands against his eyes, pulling on a pair of pyjama bottoms and an old tee shirt before tip-toeing to the loo and then down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone as he went.
Much to his delight, the kitchen was empty and still when he entered. Charlie crept across the cold tiles on his bare feet, quietly starting to brew some coffee on the stove top as he pulled a mug out of the cabinet. He'd grown a certain fondness for coffee in the mornings while living on the reserve, abandoning his long-favorite Earl Grey tea in lieu of something that gave him more of a boost.
As the water boiled and the coffee brewed, he leaned against the countertop and closed his eyes. He wasn't used to having nothing to do. Charlie's entire life revolved around his job, and it was strange to take a holiday like this, especially such a long one. There was still a week before Christmas and he didn't have to be back at the reserve until the new year. The time stretched out in front of him dauntingly, and he honestly felt a little bit nervous at the prospect of having so much free time on his hands. He needed to find something to occupy himself or he was going to go mad.
Just then the coffee finished, and Charlie filled his mug with the dark, steaming liquid. He sipped at it immediately, not minding the burn as it washed down his throat, hot and bitter. If there was one thing Charlie was used to, now, it was heat. He sighed happily into the mug, feeling himself waking up more and more with each tiny, scalding sip.
"Enjoying yourself?" a voice asked, startling him. Charlie jumped slightly, coffee sloshing out of his mug and landing on the floor.
"Bollocks," he swore, grabbing his wand to clean up the mess as Hermione chuckled at him.
"Sorry, Charlie, I didn't mean to startle you," she said through her soft laughter, crossing the kitchen to the cabinets beside him and stretching up to pull down a mug for herself. Her shirt rode up a bit and she tugged it down with her free hand, placing the mug on the counter. "Do you mind if I have a cup?"
"I didn't know you liked coffee," he answered stupidly, furrowing his brow at her as he refilled his own mug. Charlie paused, and then filled Hermione's, too, not waiting for her answer. "Of course you can have some."
She smiled, curling her fingers around the same mug that she'd been drinking from yesterday, the one with the chip in the handle. Hermione pursed her lips and blew on the coffee, steam billowing out of the mug as she did so. Charlie chuckled and took a swig from his own mug.
"How can you drink it while it's so hot?" she asked incredulously, watching him swallow the near-boiling liquid without even a flinch. "Doesn't it burn?"
Charlie laughed louder, shaking his head. "I'm almost positive I'm immune to burns at this point," he said coolly, and her eyes flickered down to a scar on his forearm. "I've had my fair share, after all. Some hot coffee isn't much compared to a dragon breathing fire at you, you know."
She shook her head, her eyes wide as she continued to blow on her beverage. "No, I suppose not," she agreed. "Most of the time I end up drinking my coffee cold because I end up forgetting I've poured it and get wrapped up in a book or my work or what have you. Sometimes I'll warm it back up with a charm, but it doesn't taste as good reheated. I end up just drinking it cold and promising that I won't forget it the next day, but…" she trailed off, shrugging a shoulder. "Somehow I always forget."
Hermione chanced a sip at her coffee and winced. It was still too hot for her. "Well, I'm glad you're getting to drink it while it's hot today," Charlie mused, his blue eyes still shining with laughter. "I am curious to see exactly how much heat you can handle, though."
She immediately flushed crimson, and when he processed what he'd said, so did he. The both of them took a moment to stare down into their cups, an awkward silence hanging heavy in the air between them.
"I didn't mean-" he began, just before Bill and Fleur and Victoire burst into the kitchen, Harry and Ginny on their heels.
"Morning!" Ginny chirped cheerfully, and Charlie had never been more glad for the distraction.
"Morning," he responded, hoping that his face had at least settled down from flaming red to a pink flush. Bill cocked an eyebrow at him, and Charlie cleared his throat loudly. "This must be the lovely Victoire!"
Charlie's niece peeked out from over her mother's shoulder, eyes wide as she took in Charlie's burly form, long hair, and generally rough appearance.
"Vic, darling, this is your Uncle Charlie," Bill told her, leaning down to speak softly into his daughter's ear. "Remember? We've shown you lots of photos of him."
Victoire nodded shyly and Fleur walked her over to her grinning uncle, who bent down to her eye level. "It's lovely to meet you, Victoire!" he beamed, and she smiled brightly at him.
"Unca!" she exclaimed, and he laughed, mussing her hair a bit. A deep pang of regret pierced him right in the stomach-how had he stayed away so long? He'd missed out on so much. He could have visited home more often, or at the very least Shell Cottage, but he hadn't. He'd isolated himself so much that he hadn't even met his niece yet, and she was already talking. What was wrong with him?
As if sensing his distress, Hermione's voice suddenly broke the silence. "I suppose we ought to start on breakfast," she said decisively, and everyone in the kitchen spurred into action, preparing various types of food and laying them out on the table, talking and laughing all the while.
Eventually, everyone came down for breakfast and that familiar roar of the Weasley clan was back in his ears. Charlie's face hurt from grinning so much, even as he shoveled eggs and bacon and toast and coffee into his mouth just as quickly as anyone else on the table.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, Molly stood to begin clearing the table. "I've got it, Mum," Charlie offered, standing from his seat. "It's the holidays, yeah? You should have a bit of a break."
"I'll help him," Bill insisted, also standing. Molly beamed at her sons and the rest of the family started to file out of the kitchen, going various directions and chattering loudly with each other.
Bill smiled warmly at Charlie once the kitchen was empty, and the two of them set to work clearing the table and washing the dishes.
"We've missed you, you know," Bill said, scrubbing a particularly dirty pan with vigor. "I mean, everyone has, but at the Cottage. You used to come round quite a bit and then you just… stopped. It's been a little bit lonely without you, if I'm honest."
Charlie frowned a bit. "I didn't know," he said lamely, his shoulders slumping. "I mean… well, I suppose I knew you'd miss me? Or at least that I'd miss you and Fleur. Not that it'd be so lonely, though. I thought Mum was coming 'round a lot?"
Bill shrugged one of his shoulders, passing the dishes to Charlie for drying like they'd done what felt like billions of times in this very kitchen. Charlie was the second oldest, which meant that the only sibling he had to look up to was Bill. He'd always adored his big brother-as children, he was constantly underfoot, copying Bill's every move. As they'd grown, of course, Charlie had begun to branch out on his own, but there was a special place in his heart for his older brother. In fact, when Charlie had heard that Percy was going to be born, he'd been ecstatic. It was finally his chance to be a big brother just like Bill-only it wasn't, because Percy didn't look at Charlie like Charlie looked at Bill. It was just one more thing his oldest brother was best at.
"At the beginning she did," his voice pulled Charlie back to the present. "After Vic was born, Mum came to stay for nearly a month. It was great to have her, of course, but you know how tense things can get between her and Fleur. After she left, she came back for a couple of weekends here and there, but eventually she stopped coming at all and we just started coming here for Sunday dinners and the like. It's easier now that Vic's a little older, but I don't know what we're going to do when-" he cut off, eyes darting around the kitchen before settling back on Charlie's. "When the new baby comes."
Charlie's eyes lit up and he grinned. "The new baby?" he asked, and laughed joyfully when Bill nodded. "Does Mum know?"
"Nobody knows," he said, shaking his head. "Just you and me and Fleur. Like the old days."
Charlie had adored Fleur from the moment he met her. She looked at Bill a lot like he himself did, and they'd bonded incredibly quickly. He loved spending time with his brother and his sister-in-law, and this Christmas was serving to prove just how much he'd missed them.
"I'll come 'round more," he promised, clapping Bill on the shoulder as he set the last plate back in the cabinet. "Before the baby comes, and after too. I just… if Mum found out I was visiting Shell and not coming home…"
Bill chuckled. "Yeah, I hear that. Listen, no hard feelings, okay? Just… come around. I miss you. I know Fleur misses you. Vic is going to love you, and so's the new baby. If you're not coming home and you still want to come around, let me know and we'll make sure that your room's looking like a guest room again before Mum comes to visit."
Of course Bill would do that for him. Charlie's chest tightened a bit and he stepped forward, pulling his big brother into a firm hug. Bill hugged him back, clapping him on the back twice before releasing him. "Now, come on," Bill said, grinning. "I'm sure Mum's got something planned for today, we'd better go find out what."
Molly Weasley did, in fact, have an outing planned for the family. Evidently, everyone had waited until the absolute last moment to do any Christmas shopping (save for Molly herself, of course, who'd been furiously knitting since probably last Christmas). Charlie was rather pleased, secretly, because he had planned to go out sometime this week and do his shopping anyhow. At least he wasn't the only one.
Everyone had bundled up and filed through the Floo, filling the Leaky Cauldron with people. Luckily, it was before the lunch rush, so Tom didn't much mind.
"All right, you lot," Molly called, her children and honorary children all settling into silence around her. "We'll all meet back here just before supper. Do try to behave yourselves, you are all adults now-except for Vic, of course." She beamed at her granddaughter, who was sitting on her mother's hip.
After Molly's reminders, the Weasley family started to branch off. Of course, naturally, the couples began to split off together, each going a different direction until Charlie and Hermione were left standing in front of the pub. Hermione was shoulder-deep in her little bag, clearly searching for something. It was an impressive bit of magic that never ceased to amaze him when he saw it. Charlie knew that she'd come up with the spell when she and Harry and Ron had been on the run after the war, and he wasn't surprised that she was still using it. He'd have to remember to ask her to teach him that one.
"Lose something?" he asked her, chuckling as she rolled her eyes.
"My shopping lists," Hermione huffed, reaching even further into the bag. "The problem is that I've got so many that I can't even summon it-I'm sure that so many pieces of parchment would come flying out that we'd be covered in them."
Charlie laughed a bit harder-of course she had tons of shopping lists. Each person probably had an entire list all to themselves and she'd likely taken ages to meticulously write out gifts that were perfect for each recipient. "You've got that many lists?" he asked. "I don't even have a list. I figured I'd just sort of… see what spoke to me."
She widened her eyes at him a bit. "But what if you don't see anything? Or what if they're sold out of what you planned to get? You've got to have backups, Charlie." It almost sounded like she was scolding him.
"I'm sure I can manage," he disagreed coolly, the smirk never leaving his face as he watched her. Charlie suddenly realized that he could have walked away by now, left her alone to go and do his shopping, and yet for some reason he hadn't. She hadn't left either, though, or told him to go. "Maybe I can borrow a couple of ideas from you, yeah?"
Hermione scowled a bit at him, but then her face changed to one of triumph as she pulled the lists from her bag and waved them above her head. "Found them!" she announced, grinning, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold and her frizzy hair sticking out wildly from beneath her knitted cap. He couldn't help but match her wide grin. It was infectious.
"And about time, too," he said, shaking his head slightly as she thumbed through the lists, making sure she had one for everyone.
"Oh no, Charlie," Hermione lamented suddenly, looking up at him with wide, sad eyes. "I don't have a list for you! I didn't know you were coming and I meant to write one up last night but I was so tired by the time I got upstairs that I completely forgot!"
He felt his cheek tinge pink. Charlie hadn't expected gifts from anyone at all. After all, he hadn't told anyone he was coming home for Christmas, so how could they have known to get him gifts? He was used to just doing the Pollyanna at the reserve, where they each drew a name from a hat and bought the person a gift-usually something practical, like new gloves or a coffee mug charmed to keep drinks hot.
"That's okay, Hermione," he said, smiling at her again as he offered his arm. "Your gift to me can be helping me pick out gifts for everyone else. I barely know half the people that'll be at Christmas, after all, and you know everyone so well! You can let me steal a few of your ideas and you don't have to worry about a list for me. Deal?"
She bit her lip, seemingly thinking it over. "Only because I haven't got time to write another list and go shopping again," Hermione agreed reluctantly, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. "You've got yourself a deal, Charlie Weasley."
The pair of them made their way from shop to shop and Hermione and Charlie chose their gifts for everyone. Some of the gifts were incredibly easy to pick out-there was a new Chudley Cannons poster out that he was sure Ron would love-but Hermione had to help quite a bit with others.
"What should I get for Violet?" Charlie asked as Hermione tucked her latest purchase into her bag. "I've hardly even met her."
"You mean Lavender?" Hermione laughed, her eyes sparkling. "That's brilliant, Charlie, honestly. I wish I'd thought of calling her Violet years ago."
He flushed, embarrassed that he'd gotten her name wrong but pleased at Hermione's reaction to his mistake. "Of course, Lavender," he muttered. "Any ideas for what to get her?"
"Oh, I can think of plenty I'd like to give her," came the quiet response. Charlie grinned-he didn't see this side of Hermione often, if ever, and he couldn't help but be intrigued. Of course, he had no specific problem with Lavender, but both Hermione and Ginny disliked her, which was saying something. That said, they'd both disliked Fleur at first, too. Charlie supposed he'd have to give Ron's girlfriend a chance, after all.
"As tempting as it is to ask what you mean," Charlie responded, laughing. "I'd like to get her something nice-or at least something that will make up for whatever Ginny is going to get her. I assume something from George's shop?"
She huffed, crossing her arms and looking upward, thinking hard. "I didn't even have a list for her," Hermione admitted. "I'm completely and utterly stumped. I hardly know her, for one, and the only thing I know she's interested in are Ronald's tonsils." Charlie barked a laugh at that, and she smirked. "Honestly, I don't know anything about her. Ron probably doesn't even know anything about her. He's not exactly the most observant and I don't think they get much talking in. I was just going to buy her a scarf or something-how impersonal is that?" She sounded exasperated, and she threw her hands up in the air. "I figured out the perfect gifts for every single person except for her. I spent weeks coming up with gift ideas! I couldn't come up with a single fact about her, anything that would give me even a bit of a hint, and I've been stressing about it ever since."
Charlie frowned, aware that he'd apparently struck a nerve. "You're not expected to know everything about everyone," he reminded her gently, nudging her elbow with his own. "Come on, let's go have some tea and we can brainstorm together, yeah?"
Hermione blew a sigh past her lips but took his arm all the same, allowing him to lead her off of one of the side alleys and to a small tea shop. The Leaky was sure to be packed full at this time of day, no doubt with some of his family members as well. They needed somewhere quieter, a place they could sit and relax and have a think.
Ten minutes later, the pair of them was tucked into a back corner of the tea shop, each sipping from a large steaming mug and thinking deeply about Ron's new girlfriend.
"She offered to help Mum cook," Charlie offered, scratching his chin. "Maybe she likes cooking?"
"I honestly don't think she's the domestic type," Hermione disagreed, wrinkling her nose. "I think she was only offering because Fleur had. I mean, it's been years since we were in school together and I suppose we've all changed a bit, but…"
He made a soft noise of assent, chewing on his chapped bottom lip as he thought. Hermione sighed, wrapping her hands around her mug of Earl Grey and lifting it to her lips, blowing the steam off the surface gently. Charlie caught sight of the dreamy look in her eye and found himself unable to look away, watching her as she scrunched her eyebrows together in thought. She'd taken off her knit cap when they came inside and her hair had sprung free, looking like it never could have fit under the hat at all. Her cheeks and nose were still slightly pink from the cold. She lowered the mug slowly, her tongue swiping out to catch a drop of tea that clung to her top lip. Her mouth began to move, but Charlie found himself so enamored with watching her that he didn't even notice until-
"What do you think?" her voice pulled him out of his trance and he shook his head slightly.
"Sorry, er-what was that?" Charlie sputtered, quickly grabbing his mug and taking a healthy swig to cover his stammering. Hermione gave him an odd look, but she repeated herself anyway.
"I said that maybe a book would be nice? But I don't even know what she'd like to read-I can't imagine that Hogwarts: A History is on her list of favorite books." Hermione sighed, her shoulders dipping slightly in defeat. "This is hopeless."
Charlie swallowed thickly, throwing his arm around her shoulders in a way that he hoped seemed friendly. Hermione dropped her head onto his shoulder with another heavy sigh and suddenly his senses were inundated with her-her warmth pressed up against his side, her curls tickling his jaw, the scent of her coconut shampoo. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Hermione was so much younger than he was, had dated his brother, and besides, when was he like this around any girl? Charlie was usually calm and collected, most of his encounters being purely transactional. He had a moderate number of one night stands under his belt, simply two people meeting needs and parting ways, and he never felt like this. He never felt like his throat was closing, like his blood was rushing in his ears, like his vision was narrowing until all he could see was her. It had to be the nostalgia, he told himself, and the emotions that were bubbling up from being home for the first time in years. He was just feeling sappy and Hermione was close by so he was projecting things onto her.
Of course that was all.
He cleared his throat, finishing his tea in one swig and kissing Hermione on the top of the head like he would Ginny's. She should be like a sister to him, too, Charlie told himself.
"Well," he said, removing his arm from around her and tugging his jacket back on. "I'll get her a hat, you can get her a scarf, and we'll get some matching mittens in case we need to replace Ginny's gift."
Hermione laughed out loud and followed him out of the tea shop.
They arrived back at the Leaky just as dusk fell and joined the gaggle of Weasleys and guests just outside the door. The pair of them easily slipped into the group who was chattering at each other loudly, multiple conversations happening at once. Hermione went and met up with Harry and Ginny and Ron and Lavender while Charlie tucked in beside Bill, Vic asleep on his shoulder. He tried to join in the conversation that Bill and Fleur were having with George and Angelina, but he was still distracted by whatever had happened in the tea shop. Out of the corner of his eye he kept sneaking looks at Hermione, who was engrossed in conversation with Harry and Ginny. Ron and Lavender were too busy making eyes at each other-Hermione hadn't been kidding.
Just then Molly and Arthur arrived and Charlie could see his mother counting them all, seemingly satisfied when she saw that everyone was accounted for. "All right, all of you, back to the Burrow!" And with that, like a litter of kittens, they marched single-file through the Floo after their mother.