There are not enough Hugo stories out there. So here is my attempt. An original angle, I hope. Please read and review!

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It had been an uncharacteristically sunny day when they had first met.

It was a Friday afternoon, and the streets of London were bustling with people. Twenty three year old Hugo Weasley had just stepped out of the Russell Square tube station, and was brushing dirt off of the jacket of his new pinstriped suit. He now remembered why he disliked the London underground; the platform and trains were always packed to capacity and, if you weren't careful, you could easily find yourself being pushed and shoved about as people attempted to cram themselves onto the overflowing trains.

He had begun his journey at Victoria station, after taking the bus in from his family's home in Devon, and soon after entering the platform had found himself shoved against the rear wall of the station by frantic muggle determined to get onto the approaching train.

Unfortunately, it had been a particularly filthy wall, and Hugo had been attempting to brush the dirt off of his new jacket ever since.

At that point, he had started to wonder if this had been a good idea. It would have been much easier to simply apparate to his grandparent's house…he would have been there ages ago, probably enjoying a warm cup of tea in their sitting room right now, rather then finding himself pressed against the wall of a muggle tube station.

Drawing a deep breath, he reminded himself that that would have ruined his attempt to have a magic-free muggle weekend…and, even worse, would have proved that Albus was right.

This was all Albus' fault.

He and Hugo had been lounging at the Burrow a few weeks ago, discussing their vacation plans. They were both working at the Ministry now- Albus in the Department of Law Enforcement, and Hugo in the Department of International Magical Co-operation- and each was entitled to two weeks off sometime in the coming months.

"I don't really have plans." Hugo said, absently drumming his fingers across a quaffle that someone had left in the room. "I was thinking I might just relax at home, and maybe pop into London for a few days to see my mum's parents."

Albus nodded. "Yeah, sounds like a plan." He paused, giving his cousin a thoughtful look. "You know, I find it a bit difficult to picture you hanging about a muggle house. I mean, I know you have muggle grandparents, but you're almost as useless as your dad when it comes to muggle things. You didn't even take muggle studies."

Hugo stopped fidgeting with the quaffle and turned to face his companion. "Yeah, well…" he began defensively, searching for a comeback. "I know more then you think, thank you very much. I get on just fine in a muggle household."

His cousin snorted, clearly not convinced.

"What?" Hugo pressed, his annoyance growing.

"Remember when Granddad Weasley showed us that muggle toaster?" Albus asked.

"Yeah, so…"

"So," the dark haired boy continued. "When the bread popped out you nearly jumped out of your skin and then proceeded to hex the thing to smithereens. And don't make me remind you about that time you found an old bicycle and thought…"

"Okay, okay." Hugo cut in. "I get your point. But I can handle a few days in the muggle world no problem. Just you watch."

Albus smirked. "Want to bet on it then? Two galleons says you can't make it through three days without magic."

The younger boy stood up, his six foot five frame towering over his cousin. "Well, three galleons says I can. No problem."

"Alright then." Albus replied. "If you can get to your grandparents house and spend a weekend there without using any magic, you win. I'll put a magic detection spell on you, to make sure you stick to the plan. If you do anything, even one tiny spell, I win the bet."

"You're on." Hugo said with a wide grin. "I hope you have three galleons to spare." He paused, his initial confidence fading quickly as he began to consider the task ahead. "But wait…how am I supposed to get all the way to London if I can't apparate, fly or use the fireplace…"

Albus chuckled "I hope YOU have three galleons to spare." He said.

That was how it had started. Now, three weeks later, Hugo Weasley found himself standing on a street in muggle London, feeling completely frazzled and confused.

Muggles rushed passed him in both directions, many of them talking into strange little boxes which they held up to their ears. Fellytones, his dad had called them. He had seen them in his grandparents' house before- but those had been larger and attached to the wall- these ones, amazingly, seemed to work outside without any chords at all.

Granddad Weasley had a point, he thought, muggles really had come up with some fascinating ways to get along without magic.

Sighing, Hugo surveyed his surroundings, hoping to see something familiar. He knew that his grandparents lived in this general area- he had told him mum about his bet with Albus and she, thinking that it would be a great experience for him, had given him a helpful set of muggle instructions.

He looked back down at the crumpled paper.

Take the Tube to Russell Square. Walk towards the TESCO and then turn right at the intersection.

Hugo looked around again. Catching sight of a large shop with the word TESCO above the entrance and set off in that direction. Resisting the urge to use a simple point me spell, he shook his head again and remained focused on his task. He would find their house- the muggle way- eventually. He just had to keep trying.

"You can do this." He muttered to himself, looking back down at his set of directions. "You can show Albus. You…"

BAM.

Hugo felt something collide with his stomach. For a moment, he froze in surprise, unsure of what had caused the collision.

"Sorry. I'm really sorry." A soft voice said, snapping him out of his daze. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

Regaining his breath, he looked down to see a young woman- a very pretty young woman- bending over to pick up the shopping bags she had dropped.

"Here, let me help you." He said, tearing his eyes away from her shimmering chestnut hair and smooth porcelain skin to crouch down and help her gather her scattered groceries.

"Oh, no, it's alright." She said "I'm the one that bumped into you. It's my fault. I can clean this up. I feel terrible, I…"

Hugo smiled, somewhat amused by her frazzled state. "Really, it's fine. Let me help."

She did not protest further, and for a moment the two worked in silence to put the salvageable food back into the shopping bags.

"There, not so bad." Hugo said, standing back up and smiling down at the girl. She smiled back, a slight blush spreading across her pale cheeks.

"Thanks. And sorry again." She said, he eyes lingering for a moment on his flaming red hair and pinstriped suit. "I guess I should be off."

Hugo wasn't sure what possessed him to do it. It was completely out of character but, for some strange reason, he couldn't resist.

"Wait." He said, as she began to turn away.

The girl froze in mid step and directed her gaze back towards him.

"I'm Hugo." He said, extending his hand. "Hugo Weasley."

Much to his delight, the mention of his name did not bring a look of instant recognition and awe to her face. She did not gasp, or ask him which Weasley was his father, or tell him that she was honoured to meet the son of illustrious war heroes.

She just smiled a warm beautiful smile and shook his freckled hand.

"I'm Charlotte." She replied, "Charlotte Foster. It's nice to meet you."

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, and Hugo chided himself for starting up a conversation with a random girl he had literally run into on the street. She probably thought he was a massive creep, who walked around all day trying to pick up women.

Merlin, he was a right idiot.

He wasn't really like that. Not at all. There was just something about her that made him want to stop her from leaving. Something about her intrigued him, and he didn't want her to go.

Running a hand through his flaming hair, he gave her a reluctant smile. "So, err…"

"Do you want to go get some coffee?" She asked, her words so fast that he barely registered them.

"Coffee. Sure." He replied, his smile widening.

Maybe she didn't think he was horrible.

Maybe she hadn't wanted to leave either.

She smiled back, catching his eye for a second before looking back down and blushing again. "I know a great place around the corner," she said quietly "We could go there."

"Sure, sounds good." He replied, forgetting all about his bet with Albus, and the muggle underground, and arriving at his grandparents' house before dinner. "Let's go."

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What began as a chance meeting on the street quickly grew into something much more.

Hugo had not arrived at his grandparent's house until 10pm that day and, although he felt terrible for making them worry, he didn't regret a thing.

He and Charlotte had spent over four hours in the coffee shop. Things had, initially, been a bit awkward, but after the first half hour the two found themselves in a deep and enthralling conversation.

It was a definite first for Hugo. He had dated a bit at Hogwarts, and had a girlfriend for a few months last year, but nothing had every really seemed right to him. He often felt that he was just putting up with the girls he was with, and had never really felt much of a connection. There had always been a bit of paranoia that they were only interested in him because of his name, and the family's fame. Plus, as Lily had pointed out to him in his fifth year, his position on the Gryffindor house team and his boyish good looks had made him a desirable catch for the female population at Hogwarts. Hugo wasn't sure why anyone would be attracted to his too bright hair and abundance of freckles but, Lily had assured him, for some strange reason he was the topic of much girly discussion.

But Hugo didn't want to be liked because his family was famous or because he had some degree of skill on the Quiddtich pitch. He wanted someone to see past that and like him for more then those superficial reasons.

With Charlotte, he quickly realized, things were different.

She was a muggle and, although she sheepishly admitted that she thought he was cute at the end of their first date, she was oblivious to his Weasley baggage. It was refreshing that nothing about his parents, the war, his Uncle Harry or anything of that sort had come up in their very long conversation. She didn't gush about how he looked exactly like his father, or tell him that she was a huge admirer of his mother's work. She didn't ask him what Harry Potter was really like, or tell him that she had loved Weasley's Wizarding Weezes since she was a kid.

They just talked, and really got to know each other.

It had been fantastic.

She had told him about her family, and about growing up in a small town outside of Oxford. She talked about her time in London, and how she had been so desperate to get out on her own. She explained that she had just finished up a degree in political science at the London School of Economics, and that she had signed up to start a graduate degree in the fall.

He had listened intently and added his own input to the conversation. It was, however, safer to let her do more of the talking and, although he told her as much as he could, he had to carefully avoid any mention of magic. Surprisingly, it was easier then he would have thought. Despite a few slip ups and clueless looks, the two were able to discuss family life, political views, and a variety of other topics without too much difficulty on Hugo's part.

He knew it was silly, but there was something about her that made him trust her instantly. He had been tempted to tell her his big secret that first night as they said goodbye.

She had smiled and told him softly that she enjoyed their chat, and that she wanted to see him again. He quickly agreed.

"How can I reach you?" she asked, her blue eyes locked on his. "Do you have a mobile?"

He faltered, not knowing what a mobile was. A sudden thought occurred to him "Ah, you mean a fellytone." He had said, proud, for a brief moment, at his muggle knowledge.

Charlotte shot him a perplexed look before letting out a quiet laugh. "Yes, a telephone." She corrected, still grinning. "You are a very strange person, Hugo Weasley." She added playfully. "Are you sure you grew up in Devon and not, I don't know, some sort of Amish settlement somewhere?"

He smiled back, mentally kicking himself for his mistake. "I'm sure." He replied. For a moment, he considered telling her the truth. He knew it was against the muggle secrecy law, and he knew that they had only just met, but he was tempted. He wanted her to know everything about him and, like it or not, magic was a pretty big part of his life.. Sighing, he suppressed the urge and came up with a safer explanation. "My parents just don't like fancy gadgets, so they didn't really expose me to much. But I can give you my grandparents, errr, telephone number." He finished, pulling his mother's note out of his pocket and reading out the phone number she had provided as Charlotte punched it into her mobile.

"Thanks." She put the device back in her pocket and looked back up into his clear blue eyes. "I guess this is good night then." She said.

"Yeah, I should be off I guess." He replied, not moving from his spot. He didn't want to go.

There was a long pause.

The space between them grew smaller, and he could feel the warmth of her body getting closer and closer to his.

He looked down and placed a large hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushing against her sleek dark hair.

"Good night, but not goodbye." Hugo added.

"No." she agreed. "Definitely not goodbye."

Both in agreement, they leaned towards each other, and shared a short but perfect kiss.

Months had passed since that fateful night, and the unexpected and unconventional romance had continued.

They spent as much time together as they could, and Hugo would head over to Charlotte's flat almost every day after work. He had learned so much about muggle life during that short period and, he believed, his lack of familiarity with the muggle world became less and less apparent as the weeks and months rolled by. She still liked to point out that he was unlike anyone she had ever known, but she found his moments of oddness endearing.

He wasn't quite sure why, but Hugo still hadn't told anyone except Albus about her. He felt guilty about that- he wasn't ashamed of her- far from it, she was a brilliant girl who made him feel like the luckiest bloke in the world. But he just wasn't sure how to tell his family that he was dating a muggle.

He knew that they would be fine with it, of course. His mum would be thrilled, and go on about the importance of magical-muggle cooperation. His dad would be perplexed, and ask him all sorts of questions about muggles. One of the things Hugo had been quick to learn during his time with Charlotte was that anything his dad told him about muggle life had to be completely ignored. There was a time when he had trusted his dad's knowledge and listened intently as he had explained things like plugs and elecktricty- now, however, he knew that his dad was completely clueless. Even Granddad Weasley's explanations for things were often wrong, and Hugo knew that his mum and grandparent's were the only reliable sources of muggle knowledge.

He supposed that this realization that most of his family didn't know the first thing about muggle life explained his reluctance. They'd all be very curious about his relationship, and ask all sorts of annoying questions. Then they'd want to meet her…which meant either attempting to make them pass for muggles (which, frankly, seemed like a long shot) or telling Charlotte the truth.

He wanted to tell her, so badly, but he wasn't sure how to break the news.

He knew that she would be shocked, and knew that she would see him differently after he confessed.

To her, he was simply Hugo. Not a Weasley. Not the son of two notorious war heroes.

Not the nephew of the boy who saved wizard-kind.

Simply Hugo.

And that was all he had ever wanted to be.

Telling her who and what he was would, inevitably, change things. If the shock didn't send her away screaming, he would have to explain his entire family history. She would know everything…and things would never be the same again.

That prospect terrified him, almost as much as the thought of her leaving him. For the first time in his life, Hugo wished that he wasn't a wizard. He wouldn't be in this predicament if he was just a regular old muggle. He could just be with Charlotte, without any secrets and complications.

Life would be much easier that way.

Hugo sighed, and looked around the kitchen on Charlotte's flat. He had been spending the night there more and more often recently, and they had left the dishes on the counter this morning after having a quick breakfast together. It was Saturday, but Charlotte had had to rush off to an international relations conference she had helped to organize, leaving Hugo by himself. She would be back anytime now, but the long and silent day had left Hugo felling very alone.

Things were much too quiet without her around, and Hugo wished that he had gone with her. He had thought about it- after all, he did work for the Department of International Magical Relations, and their interest in foreign affairs was one of the things that had brought he and Charlotte together. Granted, he knew more about magical politics then muggle issues, but he wasn't completely clueless, and the theory was the same in both cases. Unfortunately, he had opted to stay home, and now had to face the boredom he had brought upon himself.

He considered playing around with the muggle telly but decided against it. The sight of all of those people trapped in the small metal box was still unsettling to him (even though his grandma Granger had explained that it was just a digital signal which projected their image into the box, and the people themselves were not trapped in there).

Instead, he decided to clean up the kitchen, thinking that it would be nice to surprise her with a clean flat when she came home.

Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was all ready 5:45- Charlotte would be home in a few minutes, and he wasn't sure if he could clean everything in time…the muggle way at least. Deciding to take a risk and, possibly, subconsciously hoping to get caught, Hugo pulled his wand out of his pocket and gave it a quick wave. The dishes instantly sprung to life and lined up next to the magically filled sink, washing themselves one at a time before soaring back into the cupboards. Satisfied, he sat back down at the table and watched the results of his handiwork.

Things would certainly be easier if he told her the truth, he thought. No more cleaning up the muggle way, or taking muggle transportation. If he could use magic around her, he could make both of their lives much easier, and give her everything that she deserved.

He heard the clank of the final dish setting itself down, not a moment too soon. Seconds later, this was followed by the sound of a key in the door, and Charlotte entered to find him sitting quietly at the kitchen table.

"Was the conference good?" he asked, as she put her bags down near the kitchen door.

She nodded as she opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of water. "Not bad." She replied, before taking a much needed drink. "Things were a bit hectic this morning when we were setting up. The catering company forgot to bring the coffee and tea, which is not good when you are expecting fifty sleepy academics to show up in half an hour. But they sent some over just in time, and once things got underway it was great." She paused. "Professor Watson's talk on France's role in the European Union was particularly interesting, and I had a great discussion with him afterwards about Franco-American relations- I really enjoyed it."

"I wish I had come." Hugo said, stretching his long arms above his head. "Nothing much happened around here."

"It looks like you did some cleaning." She replied, taking a glance around the kitchen. "It looks great in here. But I've told you that you shouldn't feel obliged to clean up. You're my guest when you stay over."

She set her water down on the table and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Not that I don't appreciate it." She finished.

"It was no problem at all." He replied, his voice quieter then normal. He was suddenly very aware of the wand he had stashed back in his pocket, and he felt a knot building in his stomach.

He wanted to tell her.

He had to.

"I somehow doubt that." She said, flashing him her beautiful smile. "We always leave thins place in such a mess when we're…distracted by other pursuits."

Hugo smiled back. Their messiness was another thing that they both had in common. Neither had much passion for cleaning, especially when it meant spending time away from each others company.

"Really," he continued, even quieter then before. "I hardly had to lift a finger."

She shook her head and laughed. "I somehow doubt that. We haven't done the dishes in two days. It was shameful, really."

Hugo glanced down at the small wooden table before looking up and meeting her eyes. His heart rate began to speed up, his head began to spin, and he felt as if an enormous invisible force was pressing down on him.

He had to savour this last moment, he thought grimly. The last moment before everything changed.

He drew a deep breath, and Charlotte gave him a look of concern, confused by the strange change in his demeanour.

"I used a spell." He whispered, his throat suddenly dry. "It only took a few seconds."

There was silence. Hugo felt as if he was having an out of body experience. He wasn't really there. This wasn't really happening.

Merlin, he wanted her to say something.

Anything.

He felt sick.

"What?" Charlotte asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she took a seat next to him at the table. "What does that mean? Are you okay?" She reached out to feel his forehead, clearly wondering if he was running a fever.

He wished he was. He wished he was delusional and that everything he was about to say was a feverish fantasy.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.

"I used a spell." He repeated his voice flat and emotionless. He refused to catch her gaze, and stared intently down at the table.

"You're going to have to explain that statement a little." Charlotte replied, her voice portraying a mixture of confusion and amusement. "I thought I knew you pretty well, but if you have some secret desire to become a travelling magician, then that is certainly news to me."

She reached for his hand and smiled, but he pulled back quickly and stood up from his spot. Her brow furrowed again and she tried to interpret his strange behaviour.

"It's not like that." He whispered his throat still incredibly dry. "I am not talking about pulling bunnies out of hats and cutting people in half. Those are illusions." He paused and ran a hand nervously through his red hair. "I mean real magic."

Simply stared at him, unsure how to respond. "Hugo," she began slowly after a few moments, worried about her boyfriend who was now pacing back and forth across the small kitchen. "There is no such thing as magic."

He stopped pacing for a second, his eyes showing all of the pain and anxiety that he felt. Giving her a sad smile, he shook his head. "I wish that was true." He replied. "Really, I do. I hate that I have to put you through this, and I hate that I had to keep everything from you for so long. But there are laws, and you have to be really sure before you tell someone that it is really necessary that they know. And the thing is, I think I am really sure about you. I love you, Charlotte, and I want to be with you, but the secrets are killing me. So even if you hate me after this, or think I'm some sort of horrible freak, I have to tell you, because I care about you too much not to."

Silence hung in the air, and the look on Charlotte's face told him that she was still extremely confused.

"I don't understand." She whispered, standing up and taking a cautious step towards him. "What secret? Why would I hate you?" She placed a soft hand on his freckled cheek and looked into his deep blue eyes.

Hugo closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath.

This was it.

He had to tell her.

Placing a shaking hand on top of hers, he finally said what he had wanted to tell her since the evening they had met.

"I'm a wizard."

There was more silence, and neither of them moved for what felt like ages.

Charlotte spoke first, though it was impossible from her tone to know what she was thinking. "Oh Hugo." She breathed.

Thinking she was still sceptical, he provided further clarification. "As in a real wand waving, spell casting wizard." He continued, his voice barely a whisper. "From a huge family of witches and wizards. Before I met you, I had never spent more then three days in the muggle world. In fact, the only reason I was in London that night was to prove to my cousin that I could live without magic for an entire weekend. The boarding school I went to wasn't for gifted students, it was for witches and wizards. I took things like transfiguration and charms, and now I work at the Ministry of Magic."

Charlotte said nothing, and Hugo reluctantly took his hand off of hers and stepped back, instantly missing the warmth of her hand on his face.

He wondered if that was the last time she would ever touch him. It was an unbearable thought.

Reaching into his pocket, he drew out his wand and held it out for her to see. After a second, he reached out and brushed her fingers lightly against the soft wood.

"What is it?" She asked, speaking for the first time in several minutes. Again, he was unable to get much out of her expression and tone.

He looked down at it grimly. "It's a wand." He replied. "My wand. Fourteen inches, oak with a unicorn hair core."

Her eyebrows shot up at the word unicorn.

"Witches and wizards use wands to perform spells. They channel our magic."

Charlotte looked down at the wand, and then back up at Hugo. She was clearly still shocked by his sudden confession, but the serious expression on his face was starting to convince him that he wasn't making it all up.

"Okay then." She began, doing her best to stay calm. "Show me. I…I need to see."

He nodded and cleared his throat. "I'll start small." He said quietly, aiming his wand at the flowers which had been placed in the centre of the table. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Charlotte gasped and brought her hand to her mouth as the pot of flowers lifted itself off of the table and hovered across the kitchen. She watched in shock and Hugo manoeuvred his wand and led the flowers towards the counter near the sink, setting them down slowly.

"Oh my god." She whispered, her eyes still locked on the flowers. "Oh my god."

She took a wobbly step backwards, and held onto one of the kitchen chairs for support.

Hugo watched her, his blue eyes full of regret. "I am so sorry Charlotte." He said softly. "I wish I could have been honest from the start. I knew you were special, and I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how. Merlin, this is hard."

The girl did not reply and carefully lowered herself onto the chair, her knees no longer able to support her. She sat up straight and stared blankly at the wall in front of her. Not blinking, and hardly able to breathe.

Hugo stood several feel away, unsure what to do or what to say.

He hated this entire situation, but he knew that if he wanted to spend his life with this wonderful woman, he had to come clean sooner rather then later.

He just hoped they would survive this hurdle.

"Char, say something. Please." He whispered, unable to stand the silence any longer. "Tell me you hate me, tell me I'm a freak- just say something."

She drew a shaky breath. "I…I don't know, Hugo." she began. "I don't know what to say. This is…just…unbelievable. I have been dating a…a…wizard for seven months and had no idea." She paused. "I don't even know you."

Hugo tried to fight back the lump building in his throat. She hated him now. He knew it. He never should have kept his secret for so long, she deserved better then that.

"You do know me," He replied, his voice full of sadness and regret. "Better then anyone. I am not defined by my magic, and I love that when I'm with you, I can be myself- no family baggage, no reputation. Nothing. Just me."

He stopped for a moment, hoping for a response but knowing that none would come.

He didn't deserve her sympathy or understanding. Not after what he had done.

"I guess I should get going then." He choked, his voice cracking as the tears edged ever closer to the surface. "I'm sorry. For everything."

Feeling completely numb, Hugo turned and began to walk towards the door.

This was it.

She would be out of his life forever. He would be alone again, back in the wizarding world were everybody knew of him, but nobody really knew him. How could they? He was Hugo Weasley, son of Ron and Hermione Weasley, nephew of the great Harry Potter.

That was all that anyone cared about.

Everyone except for Charlotte.

"Wait."

Hugo froze, the sound of her voice overcoming everything else.

"Don't go."

He turned to see her standing behind him, her eyes red and wide, but still full of the tenderness he loved.

"I'm Charlotte." She said, with a small smile. "Charlotte Foster."

For a moment, he simply stared in shock. It was like that first perfect evening.

Like they were meeting all over again.

"I'm Hugo." He replied, his heart beat pounding in his ears. "Hugo Weasley."

She nodded, and wiped away a stray tear. "It is nice to meet you. Do you want to go get some coffee?"

"Coffee. Sure." He replied, a smile creeping across his face.

"Good, but this time, I want to hear everything." She said, reaching out brush her hand against his freckled cheek. "No secrets."

"No secrets." He agreed.

Maybe they would make it after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N The End.

Hope you liked it- please let me know. This may be a one shot, but I would consider doing more if there is enough interest.

Cheers!