Chapter Text
Hermione watched, clapping along with everyone present, as Ron and Pansy shared one more celebratory kiss before heading back down the aisle, their wedding ceremony complete. Harry took Daphne Greengrass by the elbow and escorted her behind them. Next, George and Theo Nott linked arms, each of them making a goofy show of it as they stepped down from the platform. Finally, she gave Draco Malfoy a small smile as he offered her his arm and escorted her behind the rest.
“Lovely ceremony,” she offered, and he nodded, making a small affirmative sound in his throat. Ever since Ron and Pansy had made their relationship public, their two circles of friends had slowly been coming together, easier for some than others. She and Draco were still the stiffest of them, though being partnered in the wedding party had done a good amount of work to take them from icy acquaintances to something slightly more comfortable. It helped that she genuinely liked his wife.
She still gave quiet thanks when they finished taking photographs and she was able to slip away. Stopping at the open bar, she waited in the queue and looked around the room for a group she could join. She spotted Neville with a few friends to her right, and a gaggle of Weasleys to her left.
For a few hours, she flitted from group to group, dancing when asked and enjoying herself. She let George twirl her around until she got dizzy, did shots with Seamus and Harry, and danced with Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, both of whom showed off skills she had come to understand were common amongst Pansy’s friends. After sharing a cheeky, fumbling waltz full of laughter with Neville, she returned to the bar for one more drink.
“Beautiful wedding, isn’t it?” came a familiar voice from behind her. She turned, smiling broadly.
“Gorgeous,” she replied. She meant the ceremony itself, but she could very well have been talking about the man before her. Though it was no secret that Charlie Weasley was a handsome man, he still managed to take her breath away. He cleaned up well, his long hair pulled back in a low ponytail, formal clothing fitted perfectly to his chiseled dragon keeper’s body. His blue eyes were bright, cheerful as always, and he used them to skim her appreciatively.
“You look incredible,” he said, and she knew the color must have risen in her cheeks. In the years she’d known him, he’d always kept his distance, seemingly uninterested in the lives of Ron’s cohort. He was never impolite, just detached. But it seemed a bit of alcohol, or perhaps the environment, had made him finally cross that self-determined boundary. She thought he was the most attractive of Ron’s brothers and had nursed a bit of a quiet crush on him since fourth year. Excited and flattered, she returned the compliment.
“So do you,” she said. He gestured for her to step toward the bar, letting the bartender serve them both simultaneously. He ordered a whiskey, and she asked for red wine. When they each had a glass in hand, he tipped his head in invitation and led her out of the event tent into the Weasley orchard. She took a sip of her wine and then asked, “How’s Romania?”
“Fantastic,” he replied. “We were given a clutch of eggs by the Bulgarian Ministry not too long ago, they were being smuggled by a criminal ring that made the mistake of getting caught. Turns out they were Horntail eggs, and when they hatched, two of them were male.”
“Is that rare?” she asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
“They aren’t so rare as to be a problem, but Horntails tend to hatch four females to every male, so having more than one in a clutch is a boon. We’re hopeful that at the reserve both will come to maturity.”
“You really love your job,” she observed. He’d lit up when she’d asked, and her continued interest opened him like a book.
“I do,” he nodded. “I feel like I was made for it. It’s hard to see myself doing anything else. What about you? You’re at the Ministry, right?”
“I don’t have the same enthusiasm for it, unfortunately. I’m feeling a bit stuck.”
“No room for advancement?”
“There is, I just can’t seem to get my foot through the door,” she lamented. With a tight smile, she added, “The department head seems to value blood status, unfortunately.”
He shook his head. “Small-minded.”
“Yes, well,” she started wearily. “The war may be over, but things like that don’t change overnight. Until he retires, he makes the call.”
“Hopefully that’s sooner, rather than later. Unless you’re thinking of taking your skills elsewhere?” he offered. Hermione shrugged.
“I’m not quite ready to give up yet,” she said. Then she smiled at him. “I won’t sit forever, don’t worry.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about you,” he smiled charmingly. “If anyone can get something done regardless of barriers, it’s you."
“Flatterer.” Her face warmed with a blush and he shrugged.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“I know,” she said. She slipped her arm into his, letting him guide her through the trees. Molly and Arthur had spent good time out here making the orchard an inviting place to walk, charmed lights illuminating the paths between the trees, benches set here and there. It was brisk outside, but not so cold as to keep people from taking in some air. As they passed, Hermione returned a little wave from Astoria Malfoy, who caught her eye as she stood beside her husband in a small group of whiskey-sipping Slytherins.
Charlie walked her along until they were closer to the Burrow than the event space, stopping underneath a large pear tree. Charmingly lit with soft light that glowed between its remaining red-orange leaves, it happened to be Hermione’s favorite tree on the Weasley property, perfectly suited for reading beneath while the others played quidditch. Turning to face her, he withdrew his arm from hers to tuck some loose hair behind her ear. He trailed along it with his fingers as he pulled back, twirling the end around his fingertip.
“You really are gorgeous,” he said. His eyes flicked downward, catching it as she wet her lips with a dart of her tongue. When his gaze met hers again it was like a flame igniting, the heat of raw attraction unmistakable. Hermione leaned toward him slightly, tentatively, and his fingers slipped gently along her jawline, encouraging her to move even closer.
If the hope of a kiss had ignited a fire, the feeling of his lips against hers poured an accelerant upon it. Their sweet first contact became something intense, something that made them both hungry for more. The spark between them was unmistakable. Hermione melted against him, pressing her body against his, and he wrapped a strong arm around her with a low, wanting rumble.
“Where are you staying tonight?” he asked, remaining close.
“I was going to floo home,” she replied softly, her eyes on his mouth. Then she flicked her gaze up to meet his eyes and added, “Unless you have a better idea.”
A slow smile spread his lips and his fingers trailed along the outside of her arm, dancing lightly against her skin. It sent a shiver through her. He kissed her again, pressing her back against the tree, and she slipped her arms fully around his neck. She hadn’t felt so wanted in ages. Basking in the attention, she returned as good as she got, and soon his mouth was on her neck and her hands were tugging at his buttons.
“Come on,” he rasped, dragging himself away from her and twining their fingers together. He pulled her toward the house with urgency, and she followed as he wound his way into and up the Burrow.
She had to laugh as he pulled them into his bedroom. It was largely preserved in its decoration from his days as a teen, the walls adorned with old quidditch posters and dragon-themed artwork. It was wildly familiar to her, as she had often claimed it for herself when visiting during the summer. He grinned at her, drew his wand, and silenced the door before closing the space between them and taking her mind off their surroundings again.
His hands skimmed down her sides as they came together, his tongue slipping against hers in a way that made her whimper. Hermione reached up and behind his head, letting his auburn hair out of its confines and burying her fingers in it.
She’d always wanted to do that.
Charlie’s fingers tugged at the hem of her dress, pulling up at it, and she broke the kiss to shake her head.
“Wait, it won’t—I’ll get stuck in it,” she laughed. He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners, and watched as she reached behind herself and dragged the zipper down, letting the loosened straps fall from her shoulders and dropping the whole thing to the floor.
“Good Godric,” he muttered, skimming her with his eyes. She’d worn simple nude cotton underthings, not wanting them to show lines through the dress Pansy had put her in, but Charlie looked at her as though she was in the finest silk and lace. Hermione stepped out of the pooled fabric, her eyes meeting his as her fingers went to the front of his shirt. The top two buttons were already open, thanks to their snog in the orchard, and now she finished the job. Tugging the ends of the shirt from his waistband, she pushed it off his shoulders, biting her lip as she took in the sight of his broad, muscular chest. There were magical tattoos on each of his shoulders, wrapping around and down his upper arms. Dragons, of course, their tails curling around his biceps, ferocious faces guarding his collarbones.
She trailed her fingertip along the nose of the one on the left and it closed its eyes appreciatively. It made her laugh softly, until Charlie swept a hand up and redirected her, wrapping his fingers around hers and bringing her fingertips to his lips. He kept his eyes on her as he trailed kisses along her arm. She dragged her other hand down his torso, following the gentle bumps of his abs down until she came to the placket of his trousers. With nimble fingers she unbuttoned him. The trousers, slippery formal fabric as they were, fell to the floor. He stepped out of them without much thought, leaving him dressed only in dark boxers.
His mouth trailed along her collarbone to the crook of her neck and she nearly lost focus, delirious with the way it made her feel. With a soft moan she tipped her head, granting him greater access, and he dragged his tongue along the line of her throat, sucking at the sensitive skin below her ear.
Deft fingers found the clasp of her bra and had it off her in seconds.
Hermione pushed at him, driving him toward the bed, and when he could go no further without sitting she pushed him again, straddling him as soon as he settled. Knees bracketing his hips, she pressed herself to him, rocking against his evident erection as he took a nipple between his fingers. She twined her fingers into his hair and kissed him deeply, earning an appreciative groan as she rolled her hips again, searching for a friction she desperately needed.
“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he asked, breaking away, and she grinned at him before claiming his lips again. His hands skimmed her body, sliding down from her breasts to her hips before he brought them around, gripping her arse and giving her a squeeze. He continued around the curve of her leg and slipped his fingers under the fabric of her knickers, nudging them aside to touch her. “And so wet.”
She hummed an agreement in her throat and kissed him again as she pulled him free of his boxers. There was a frantic energy between them, a need to touch and be touched, and she lifted on her knees and let him pull her to his chest as she made room beneath herself to position him properly. His mouth came away from hers only to latch onto her collarbone, to suck on her skin as she took him within her. He let out a low rumble as she began to move, hands caressing her body as she rode him.
Her fingers went back to his hair, tugging at him to coax him back to her mouth. It earned her a chuckle, making her smile against him, and he nipped at her lower lip playfully before kissing her fully. He rolled them sideways, repositioning them and taking control. Hermione moaned loudly and palmed at her own breasts as he reared back and tugged her toward him, driving into her while watching her with his jaw slack. His gaze was dark and lusty, and it only intensified as he watched her slide one hand past her knickers to finger herself as he maintained a wanton pace.
With a muttered curse he changed positions again, leaning over her. He hooked an arm under one of her legs and brought it up against her chest, making her eyes roll in her head as it allowed him to reach a spot that made her see stars. When she threw her head back with a moan he kissed her underneath her jaw, dragging his tongue along the line of her throat and nipping at the skin, leaving a trail of sensations that drove her wild.
“Fuck, Charlie,” she groaned. “I’m—”
“Come for me, gorgeous,” he muttered, his voice low in her ear. She turned her head and captured his mouth, letting out a whine as the pressure built deep in her core. Charlie drove into her relentlessly, nipping at her lower lip again, and when she broke beneath him he smiled broadly before rearing back to watch her shatter around him. He gripped her by the hips and thrust a few more times before he spilled within her, holding himself flush against her as he finished.
With a chuckle, he withdrew, lightly pulling her knickers back over her sex before dropping to the bed beside her. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Never quite got those off.”
“Mine either,” he agreed, adjusting himself in his boxers before rolling and tugging her to his chest. He kissed her deeply, indulging in her, and she melted against him with a contented sigh. She felt his fingers in her hair, pulling lightly through her curls, and she smiled to herself, enjoying the feeling.
“I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that,” she warned him, and his response was a breathy laugh against the top of her head.
“Oh, I’m not done with you,” he said, his voice low. She made a questioning sound in her throat and looked up at him to find his blue eyes skimming her body. His fingers left her hair and grazed along her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he brushed along the side of her breast and around a nipple. He continued along her side, catching the fabric of her knickers and dragging them down her thighs. She rolled onto her back and watched, lip caught between her teeth, as he began a new round of seduction.