Chapter Text
Charlie Weasley had a problem. And not the sort of problem where you can’t locate your second sock. He was having the sort of problem that involved his youngest brother’s girlfriend. It wasn’t her fault, he thought sourly. But it kind of was. Where did she get off from, walking around in those… clothes, anyway. It’s the school uniform, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him. But really. She… wore it differently. He kept catching himself watching her even when he had no excuse at all to look at her and inwardly punished himself for it in the moments his sanity made a comeback. It happened occasionally. Not a lot, these days. The sanity thing. Currently, she was sitting alone at Gryffindor table, engrossed in a book, as usual. Her robe lay on the bench beside her and he could just make out a spot of thigh revealed by her skirt. Merlin, why her, he groaned softly and reached for coffee. As he poured himself a cup, his eyes wandered back to her, watching as her fingers combed through her locks. He promptly spilled coffee over his fingers. It hurt and he cursed under his breath.
“Are you all right?” Professor McGonagall asked in passing.
“Yes,” He said, quickly whipping out his wand to fix the mess. “I was somewhere else with my mind. Sorry. Good morning, Professor.”
“Good morning,” She said. “Charlie, I meant to tell you. I really appreciate it.”
“Mh…?” He muttered, looking up.
“You filling in for Hagrid,” McGonagall told him. “It’s a big help.”
“No worries, Professor,” Charlie said, wiping his fingers on the napkin. “My mother practically begged me to stick around for a while, besides, it’s… my pleasure.” His eyes flicked back to Gryffindor table where a red-head had joined her.
“I suppose you do get to see your sister graduate,” McGonagall said.
“Yes, that too,” Charlie mumbled without listening, staring at the smiling girl who was now chatting with his sister. Then, Professor McGonagall proceeded to her chair in the middle of the table and left him to his thoughts.
“Charlie! I’m here, where are you!”
“Gin?” He called over his shoulder. “Around the side!”
“What are you doing?” His sister asked, approaching from behind. “Your letter said you had something to show me?” She stepped up on his right.
“Yeah, come look,” Charlie said.
“Are those Kneazle kittens?” asked another voice from the left, startling him so much, he bumped his head on the wooden crate lid he’d been holding up with the left hand. He rubbed his head, feeling embarrassed.
“Are you all right?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.
“He’s fine,” Ginny said. “Skull of stone that one.”
“Thanks, Gin,” Charlie muttered.
“I was intrigued, I hope you don’t mind I came along,” Hermione said apologetically.
“No, no, of course,” He said, suddenly very away he was in ratty cut-off jeans and too big a muscle shirt that hung lose and dirty around his torso.
“These are cute,” Ginny commented, pointed at the orange fur balls rolling around in the crate.
“Where did you get them,” Hermione asked, bending over the crate as well. “I thought their mothers were fiercely protective.”
“Their mother abandoned them. Likely didn’t make it,” Charlie said. “Someone down in the village found them, starving.”
“Oh, no,” Ginny cooed, reaching for one of the kittens.
“Careful,” Charlie warned. “Sharp – ”
“Ouch!”
“… teeth.”
“They bite!” Ginny complained, holding up her bleeding finger.
“Well, they’re hungry. I thought you might want to help me feed them,” Charlie said. “That’s why I mailed you in the first place.”
“Hungry for fingers?” Ginny muttered. He shrugged.
“You should take that to Madame Pomfrey,” Charlie advised. “Who knows where those claws and teeth have been.”
“Ugh, great,” Ginny said. “You coming?”
“I’d like to watch for a bit, actually,” Hermione said. “If that’s all right.”
“They’re vicious,” Ginny said. “What do you want to watch them for? But all right, I’ll see you for dinner.” She trudged off and Charlie suddenly realized he was alone with Hermione. They weren’t usually alone. They’d never been alone. His pulse quickened.
“What do they eat?” Hermione asked.
“Oh, uhm… milk,” Charlie said. “I prepared bottles.”
“You’re kidding,” Hermione said, sounding fascinated.
“Would you like to help?” He asked, blurting it out in hopes of keeping her around longer, without considering it wasn’t smart at all for him to be alone with Hermione Granger. He was an impulsive guy and she was… just so intriguing. It's just sexual, the told himself. You're not really interested in her. You want her, because you can't have her. You always want what you can't have.
“Really?” She asked.
“What else did you want to stay for?” He asked before realizing how cheeky and flirty it sounded. But Hermione didn’t seem to think anything of it, because she gave him a brilliant smile.
“I’d love to,” She said.
“Here, sit,” Charlie said hurriedly, dropping the lid back into the grass and pulling up a small stool he’d intended to use. “I’ll get one out for you.” She sat on the stool, careful to arrange her skirt properly. Charlie scooped an orange furball from the crate and placed it into her lap where it rolled about, attempting to catch his fingers. Charlie quickly pulled the bottle from the box on the ground and handed it to her. “Just stick it into the general direction of the muzzle.” A moment later, the Kneazle found the nip and immediately seized it.
“Oh,” Hermione cooed. “That is very cute.”
“Yeah, they’re quite cuddly, aren’t they?” Charlie asked, reaching for a second Kneazle and a bottle.
“They are,” Hermione said, stroking her finger over the Kneazle’s exposed belly. Charlie dropped into the grass and fed his Kneazle that was just as eager as Hermione’s. “Not so vicious when you’re fed, are you?” She said, smiling as the Kneazle’s suckling became slower and it appeared to fall asleep. “This one reminds me of Ron, to be honest.” Charlie laughed weakly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” He said.
“Did I offend you in some way?” She inquired.
“… offend me,” He said, raising his eyebrows. “No, why?”
“I don’t know,” She said. “It felt like you had a problem with me.”
“No,” He said quickly. “I don’t have a problem with you. I like you.” He wanted to bite his tongue hard, but again she seemed to interpret his words as harmless. “Ron…” He cleared his throat. “Ron’s a lucky guy.” She blushed.
“Oh,” She said. “Thank you. I must have imagined it then. Nevermind.”
“How… how is that going?” Charlie asked. “You and Ron. If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Why would I mind?”
“You don’t really know me all that well,” He said as his Kneazle finished off the bottle. “And it’s a private matter.”
“Ron tells everyone whatever they’ll listen to,” She said as they placed the Kneazles back into the crate and chose a second pair. “I’m a little surprised you don’t know everything down to the last detail already.”
“I guess Ron and I aren’t as close as I thought,” Charlie said.
“Well, then I guess you’ll hear it from me. Things are going all right. It’s… strange to be back at Hogwarts without him and Harry. A lot less trouble. But strange. We don’t see a lot of each other these days and he’s not good with writing elaborate letters.” Charlie nodded.
“You’ll see each other on Hogsmeade weekends though, right?”
“If they can squeeze it into their schedules,” Hermione said, shrugging.
“Right,” Charlie said, entranced by the way her caramel hair shimmered in the late afternoon sun as she cared for the little Kneazle in her lap. “You’re not the first long-distance relationship in Hogwarts. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” She said.
“Not that I’d know, of course.” Her lips twitched into a small grin. “Oh no, what did my mother say?”
“Nothing you haven’t heard a thousand times, I’m sure,” Hermione said.
“Let me guess,” He sighed, then cleared his throat and attempted an imitation of his mother’s voice that came out really rather unflattering. “’that boy needs a woman in his life!’, ‘if only he moved back home I’m sure he’d find a good wife’ and my personal favourite ‘how is he ever going to give me grandbabies if he won’t settle down!’”
“That was scarily accurate,” Hermione said. Then she laughed and Charlie couldn't help staring at her. If only things were as easy as they seemed in his mother’s world.