A/N: I've been wanting to write this pairing for some time now, but I feel i'm a little out of my depths with it. I finally nailed down a workable plot and I'm excited to write and develop this story. I hope you all enjoy and as always reviews and much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter, or anything you recognize.

Fancasts: Sam Heughan as Charlie Weasley & Emma Watson as Hermione Granger

warnings: There will be reference to graphic violence, themes that may be sensitive topics such as night terrors, torture, rape, and there will be a lot of sexual content. Please read at your own risk.

Her gut was heaving, her head spinning and her mind screaming, but she fervently prayed that despite her utter discomfort that she managed to avoid making a complete fool of herself. She hoped that she didn't scream outwardly or empty the contents of her stomach when this ended. Hermione hated portkeys, they were the worst form of wizarding travel. Apparition was unpleasant at best, but portkeys took the award for most nauseating and horrible ways to travel. Not to mention the most dangerous, Godric's sake what if she lost her grip and fell? She much preferred the floo network, but alas it wasn't far reaching or approved for international travel, so a portkey it was. She landed ungracefully in a heap of limbs and robes, somehow making a somersault before losing all balance.

She didn't move, waiting for her equilibrium to stabilize and her heart rate to cease racing. She kept her eyes closed and concentrating on her breathing, thinking how much she hoped nobody was there to witness her clumsy arrival. She was not so lucky as a moment latter a deep rumbling chuckle sounded from somewhere above her. She felt her face flame red with her embembarrassment. Still she refused to look and see who witnessed her pitiful state.

"Hey there Hermione," the voice called out. Oh great she despairingly thought it's bad enough that I've advertised my complete lack of grace but to add insult to injury I had to do it in front him.

"Hello Charlie," she acknowledged through gritted teeth.

"Need a hand?" Before she could answer no, that she was perfectly capable of picking herself up off of the ground, a hand gripped her arm firmly and hauled her to her feet.

"Thanks," she reluctantly said, her face still bright red. She glanced upwards to see the goofy grin that lit up her best mate's elder brother's face.

"Think nothing of it."

"Uh huh, easier said than done. Especially since I already know you are never going to let me live that down," she muttered. This started Charlie's laughing anew.

"You got that right!" he exclaimed. "tell you what though I'll keep it between us, even though I'll rub your face in it now and again."

"Har har har," she sarcastically replied. Charlie smirked.

"So, what brings you to Romania?"

"Well…. Errr… It's official ministry business."

"Merlin, you sound like Percy."

"I do not! Take that back right now Charles Weasley!"

"Official Ministry Business," he chimed mockingly.

"Okay fine," she hissed. "I'm here because I'm going to become a dragon tamer." Hermione lied. Truthfully, she was tired of her job in the department of regulation and care for magical creatures and wanted something a little more daring and adventurous, but had no interest in being an Auror. No, her real reason for coming to the dragon reserve was because of her long-harbored crush on Charlie.

Floundering for an excuse to visit and trying to avoid blurting out her secret she figured this was the next best option. At least until Charlie hunched over with uncontrollable guffawing at her expense. The humiliation lasted several minutes and then moments longer while the tall, handsome ginger haired wizard caught his breath before he said, "You wouldn't last a day."

Hermione's reaction was twofold. First her face, which had returned to her normal complexion, flushed again as he laughed. Then she sucked in a deep breath and titled her head to the side reigning in her hurt and anger over being so obviously funny to the one person she wanted approval from the most. She was well used to being underestimated by the wizarding world, as annoying as it was, but it stung to be so publicly put down by the person you had a secret crush on. She masked her shame by remaining calm and proper.

"Yes, well, be that as it may, I'm here. Please be so kind as to point me in the direction of the head tamer's office."

Charlie looked at her, expression laying somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "No," he shook his head.

"No?"

"No. First of all, Hermione, you are looking at the head tamer, and there is no way I'm letting you anywhere near one of these dragons, even if we did have any positions open. Secondly, you are too book smart to fit in here. You don't belong here." Charlie told her bluntly.

She didn't want to cry but she couldn't hold back the tears that burst from her like a damn when he told her she didn't belong. She turned away from him, a moment too late as he already saw the effect his words had on her.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. "Hermione I didn't –"

"Don't!" Hermione interjected sharply holding her hand up. "Just don't, you made it perfectly plain what you think Charlie. Portus."

Hermione was sucked through the portal that appeared as her scarf, and disappeared leaving a baffled looking wizard in her wake.

Whatever strength she had held onto while facing the ordeal on the dragon reserve diminished when the portkey deposited her into her living room. The tears fell freely now, and her anger was vented by punching pillows and couch cushions until she was left utterly depleted and wiped out. She fell asleep right there on the floor after her tantrum passed.

She awoke the next day, thankful it was a Saturday and showered before changing into her most comfortable pajamas and throwing herself a pity party. It mostly consisted of several pints of ice cream, biscuits, and wine while sitting in front of the telly watching movies. Sunday passed in a similar state and by the time Monday came around Hermione Granger was once again her professional, hardworking, compliant self, ready to return to her boring, underpaid job.

She spent two and a half days crying over a wizard too older than her to give her any serious consideration for a relationship. She knew that a relationship with Charlie Weasley was not a possibility, though it didn't mean she couldn't be close to him in another way. She had hoped that even if they would never have a romantic relationship, because of her youth and status as his youngest brother's best friend, that they could have at least had a relationship within the boundaries of co-workers and friends. However, to have him laugh in her face when she told him her plans killed even that for her. Hermione felt disrespected, and she could tolerate a lot but that wasn't one. So she let herself cry over her hurt, anger and disappointment for two days and now it was time to move on. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and all.

While Hermione went back to her dull routine, Charlie Weasley spent a lot of time thinking. His Friday had been going along swimmingly. He had managed to ease the snarky attitude of a horntail in heat, stabilize a baby short-snout and dress fresh bandages over the scale rot on an ironbelly. His long day was over and he was on his way to the pub when suddenly, a tumbling mass fell from the sky and landed in a pile in his pathway. He couldn't hold back the chuckle for the sorry state of the arrival and walked closer for a better look, on his guard and suspicious of any newcomers. He realized with curiosity that it was his brother's friend Hermione. Her eyes were closed and he let his gaze wander up and down her body, thinking that the witch had grown up quite nicely since the two years since he had seen her, before quickly stopping those thoughts in their tracks.

His surprise at finding Hermione on a dragon reserve of all places quickly turned to shock at her statement of becoming a tamer herself. That very thought was amusing, Hermione hated to fly, she was daring and bold enough to pull the job off alright, but there were to many things she couldn't do, or was too afraid to do, that were required in the job. It surely must have been a joke. It wasn't, her hurt expression at his dismissal of the idea told him that she had been serious, and he immediately knew that he had insulted her. He tried to apologize immediately, but she wouldn't have it. With an angry rebuke, she disappeared the same way she had arrived minutes before. He needed to get to the bottom of this. Why would Hermione even want to work as a tamer? What made her just turn up on the reserve out of the blue? Why did she run off when he tried to make amends?

He spent the weekend divided between his daily job, reflecting on what to do and eventually, arranging an international portkey home. He had to talk to her, and if she genuinely wanted to work on the reserve the least he could do was hear her out. Which is how he found himself arriving at the ministry at noon the following Monday.