The first full length fic I've done in a really long time. Read and review, it will inspire me to keep going :) Compliant with all but epilogue, except Fred is alive as a gift to my Nika. The HP universe belongs to JK Rowling and I only abuse it for funsies.

The cool air hit Charlie's skin, the contrast to the hot steam he had emerged from making it prickle. The Burrow was quiet, and he accepted the break from the chaotic holiday atmosphere happily. While it was good to be home with his family, he had grown far more accustomed to the quiet Romanian flat that he alone occupied. A few solitary moments to shower and think were most welcome after the last two weeks of constant attention from his numerous siblings, and especially Mum.

"Hello?"

Charlie sighed and shook his head at his own reflection in the mirror. The moments never lasted here.

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

"Just a moment!" Charlie called back to the voice from downstairs. He slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, doubting that anyone who felt free enough to walk straight in would mind the casualty.

A few minutes later he descended the spiral staircase. He looked around for the visitor for a moment before his eyes settled on the collapsed mass on the sofa. Only by the bushy curls could he identify it as Hermione.

"Hey 'Mione. Ron's not here I'm afraid. He and Harry went to tea with Ginny and Mum."

"Oh," Hermione answered quietly. Charlie couldn't see her face, but her voice sounded uncharacteristically meek, and he realized that the sleeve of her sweater had a tear in it.

"Everything all right?"

He slowly rounded the couch. His heart dropped as he saw the state of her. Her eyes were red and streaks ran through the dirt on her face where tears had washed a clean line. The rip on her sleeve wasn't the only damage to her shirt, which looked like someone had had an unsuccessful go at tearing it off. A deep red gash ran across her left cheek, and Charlie thought he saw a light bruise forming around her throat, like a hand had been clutched too tightly around her windpipe.

"Hermione," he breathed, crouching down in front of her to take a closer assessment of the damage. "Darling, what happened?"

"Just a few stupid boys, nothing to get worked up about, nothing I couldn't handle," she looked hesitantly into his concerned gaze. "Do you know when Ron and Harry will be back? I hate to be bothering you."

"I don't. I think Mum wanted to take them shopping, they could be hours. What do you mean a few stupid boys? Did someone attack you?"

"Charlie, Muggle-Borns were defaced and defamed during the war. The effects haven't completely worn off yet, especially among that lot - please, I get treated poorly all the time, I'm a strong witch I can always handle it."

"Looks like someone had a real go at you this time." Charlie reached up to her cheek and she shrunk away from his touch. "Who was it? When you say 'that lot,' you mean the Slytherins? Were they Death Eaters?"

"Enough!" Hermione was on her feet before Charlie had a chance to protest. "I don't want to talk about this. I'm fine. Harry and Ron have agreed to let these sorts of things go. It's so important that we, the three of us especially, try to promote peace right now. The Chosen One attacking Slytherins in the street won't instill comfort or security in people who are recovering from a war-torn Britain. Now please Charlie. I'm not hurt too badly. I even left one of them with a well-deserved knee to the crotch. It's over."

Charlie didn't believe for a second that she was fine. While her eyes seemed emblazoned with anger and dignity, her hands were shaking at her sides, and she seemed tense, like she was ready for another attack to hit her any moment. Briefly, Charlie wondered whether this had been her general demeanor since Voldemort's downfall. He chastised himself silently for not noticing how difficult post-war life was for her.

"Promise or not, they won't keep their wands down if they see you like this. Go upstairs and get cleaned up. You can borrow some clothes from Ginny, she won't mind. I can heal that wound for you too, if you like. I have to do a lot of healing in Romania, I'm halfway decent at it."

"I can handle it," Hermione answered curtly, but with a grateful nod. "Thank you."

Charlie's eyes didn't leave the stairs until he heard the bathroom door close and the shower start running. A list of possible courses of action ran through his head. He could Apparate to Diagon Alley and track down the boys, it seemed like they were who she'd rather be interacting with right now. But he quickly pushed that option aside when the inevitable panic Molly would experience ran through his mind. George was always good for cheering people up, but he would be running the joke shop alone while Fred was on holiday, so he was unavailable. The urge to go to Bill's cottage and get advice from his older brother was overwhelming, but he fought that too. This was all so new to him. Him and Hermione were friendly enough, she was always good for a lively debate, and her appearance at every family gathering the last seven years would have made it difficult not to get to know her. She was smart, and driven, and fiercely independent. But despite the latter bit, Charlie felt an overwhelming urge to protect her, and urge he rarely felt outside of his relationship with Ginny. The thought that women were being approached and attacked in the street and nothing was being done about it made his blood simmer. Hermione didn't know it, but she had just harshly changed his view of the modern Wizarding World.

Hermione took a gray t-shirt out of Ginny's wardrobe and replaced the blouse she had just tried on, which had proved to be too roomy in the bust. She slipped it over her head, and after a moment of contemplation decided to pair it with a black sweater and a simple pair of jeans. The outfit was cozy and casual, and she felt much safer now that she was allowing herself to be swallowed by fabric. With a sigh she turned to the mirror on Ginny's wall and examined the cut on her cheek. It was deep, but not so deep she couldn't mend it on her own. With great care she pointed her wand to her face, and watched as the gash quickly shrunk down to a scratch.

Satisfied with her work, Hermione sank down on Ginny's bed to collect herself. Days like this she missed the comfort and security of Hogwarts, where Dumbledore and McGonagall had made it so that she was never afraid of what was around the next corner. The real world hadn't proved to be such a safe haven. Not only were she and all the other Muggle-Borns still being looked at a bit sideways after all the bad press they had gotten during Voldemort's control of the Ministry, but she was public enemy number one to those who had stood on the losing side of the war. Not only was she a "Mudblood," a talented one at that, which none of them had been able to swallow since her first year at Hogwarts, but she had also fought literally at the side of Harry Potter. Not a day went by when she didn't fear for her life. Ron and Harry offered her all the protection they could, and Kingsley and the Ministry had her back as well, but the thugs in the streets didn't care about any of that. The Burrow was one of the few places left for her in the Wizarding World.

It was a good half hour before Hermione could calm herself down enough to rejoin Charlie downstairs. She heard movement from the kitchen and went to investigate. Charlie was sitting at the table with a teacup in front of him. A second cup was sitting in front of the vacant seat across from him.

"Good, you're back." He seemed relieved by her reappearance. "I'm sorry if I upset you before. I was just caught off guard."

Hermione smiled slightly and shook her head. "It's fine, really."

"I made you a cup of tea, I thought you could use something warm."

Hermione walked towards him and he automatically stood up to pull out her chair. She smiled at this act of chivalry. Harry and Ron were so comfortable with her that gallant acts were rare from either of them. Once she was seated, Charlie returned to his place across from her and quietly sipped his tea.

"I know I'm not Ron," Charlie said after a long silence. "And Merlin knows I'm not Harry. But I want you to know, all of us think of you as family, and if you ever need anything, I have access to a lot of dragons."

Hermione laughed at this, a genuine smile spreading across her face for the first time that day, and Charlie felt his heart warm at the sight. The light didn't leave her eyes as she asked him all about dragons, and his life in Romania, her general studious mindset drinking in every detail he told her about the mating habits of the Hungarian Horntail, and the easiest way to earn the trust of a Norwegian Ridgeback. She in turn told him about the time she had been spending at Hogwarts with Irma Pince, learning the proper ins and outs of being a librarian, and he joked about how refreshing she would be to the school "once that old hag retires." Two hours passed without them even realizing it. They had migrated from the kitchen, back to the couch that mere hours ago had held Hermione in a far worse mood.

"This is the most I've laughed in a really long time," Hermione admitted. "Thank you Charlie."

Charlie smiled. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"I could go for some cinnamon toast." Hermione hopped to her feet and made her way to the kitchen. Charlie smiled and followed her bouncing form, amazed at the change their afternoon had caused in her demeanor.

"Some more tea would be good too." Charlie reached over Hermione's head for the tea kettle, just as she turned around for the cinnamon. They collided, and Hermione fell back against the counter, feeling slightly like she had just hit a brick wall. For a moment they stared at each other, and Hermione became acutely aware of the already short distance closing between them. Charlie rested one of his hands on either side of her on the counter, and bent his head down to rid their height difference. Hermione's eyes went wide as he hovered over her for a beat, hesitating. Then, gently, he kissed her. The light brush of his lips against hers stirred a fire in the pit of Hermione's stomach, and broke the frozen spell she was under. She returned the kiss eagerly, her hands running into his hair, her tongue running across his lips. Charlie growled and grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against him. One of his hands stayed at the small of her back and the other went around back of her neck and pulled her hair into his fist.

The squeaky little voice of reason started piping up in Hermione's brain. This is wrong. He's Ron's brother. Hermione stop! But for once, she skillfully ignored it. Someone else had taken over her body, someone lonely, someone needy and starved for affection. Someone who had been subdued for far too long. This girl moved her hips against Charlie's, enjoying the small noises that escaped his throat as their most sensitive areas rubbed together. This girl also tore the shirt from his body, and let her eyes linger on his impressively toned torso. A cloudy haze seemed to enter her mind, and things happened in no logical order or progression. It was cold, her shirt was off, then it was warm, his mouth was on her, and his hands. Her hands were working quicker and with more skill than she recalled them being able to. She wanted him more desperately than she had wanted anything in a long time. He lifted her onto the counter and took her as his own, and she heard moans that she recognized distantly as her own. Lights went off before her eyes and she felt her nails dig into his sweaty back, and nothing else mattered at that moment.

Round two found them up in Charlie's bedroom, a setting that was both more comfortable and more maneuverable. After, Hermione laid curled up against his chest, half-awake and more content than she could remember being in recent weeks. Charlie idly ran his hand up and down her back. His mind wanted to race, but was at the same time too mottled to do much thinking. All he could do was look down at her left hand, and see the diamond his little brother had put there. He wondered when he would start hating himself.

"Hermione -" he started finally, but was interrupted by the sound of his bedroom door flying open.

"Charlie we brought you back…pastries." Ginny stood in her older brother's doorway and took in the sight in front of her. Hermione quickly wrapped a sheet over her chest and looked down at the bed, suddenly ashamed. Charlie met his sister's gaze, trying to silently explain to her matters that were far beyond what he considered her maturity level. Ginny looked back at Charlie like he was a stranger, her gaze stony and distant, until footsteps behind her pulled her back.

"Oi Gin! Is Charlie there! Harry's going to eat all the treats!"

"No Ron!" Ginny scrambled to close the door and stop Ron's advancement. "Don't go in there!"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

He laughed suddenly. "Charlie's got a girl in there doesn't he! Oh you are so dead when Mum finds out!" Ron burst through the bedroom door and couldn't quite process what he saw. There was a girl in bed with Charlie all right. But the strange thing was, she looked an awful lot like his fiancée…

"Hermione?"

"Oh Ron!" Hermione sobbed. "Ron I -"

"You slut!" Ron screamed. "How could you do this! And Charlie! What the bloody hell do you have to say for yourself!"

Ginny didn't care much to hear the tearful explanation that followed. She ran down the stairs to find a very confused Molly and Harry standing in the foyer. They had heard yelling, but thankfully couldn't hear what was being said.

"What's the matter?" Molly asked in alarm, seeing the look on her daughter's face. Harry's eyebrows knit in confusion as tears bubbled up in Ginny's eyes. He stepped towards her and took her hand in his.

"Ginny?" he asked gently. Before Ginny could work out anything to say, Hermione came flying down the stairs, sobs raking her body as she clumsily tried to make a beeline for the door. Harry dropped Ginny's hand and put himself in her path. When she reached him he grabbed her in a strong hug, though she struggled fiercely against his grasp.

"Hermione!" he pleaded. "Hermione, calm down. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Let her go Harry!" Ron's voice boomed. "Let her leave! I don't want her in this house!"

"Ron Weasley!" Molly screamed, outraged. For the first time in his life, Ron completely ignored his mother.

"Leave the ring, you whore. You don't deserve it."

Shaking, Hermione took the engagement ring off and placed it in Harry's hand, gently closing his fist around it. Harry stood there dumbfounded. Ron was speaking to Hermione in a way he'd never dared to before, and Hermione was acting like she deserved it.

"'Mione…"

Hermione placed a kiss on Harry's cheek and disappeared out the door without a word. Everyone stood stunned until they heard the loud CRACK! of her Apparation once she crossed the boundaries of the Burrow. Then Molly and Harry both turned on Ron, both confused and outraged by the display they had just seen.

Charlie came down the stairs and could feel the tension surrounding his family members. He stopped beside Ron on the stairs.

"Where is she?"

"She left," Ron spat at his brother. "And you're welcome to do the same."

"Now hold on just a minute!" Molly interjected, growing more indignant at the situation. "Ronald Weasley I will not have you speak to your brother like that!"

"It's fine, Mum," Charlie said quietly. "Ron I'm sorry -"

"And you can just shove it." Ron pushed past Charlie and went up the stairs to his room, slamming his door loudly behind him. Everyone looked at Charlie, expecting him to make some sense of the situation. Charlie, however, couldn't make the words come out, and also went up to his room.

When Hermione's feet touched the ground, she saw a small stone cottage in front of her. A Muggle grill stood next to the porch, a small silver sedan was in the driveway. With small shaky steps she approached the door, and pressed the doorbell. A woman with short, curly hair answered, wearing an apron covered in flour, and a shocked expression on her face.

"Hermione?"

"Mom," Hermione could barely choke out the word before she broke down in sobs again. "Mom, can I come home?"

"Oh baby!" The older woman came out onto the porch and took her daughter into her arms. "Oh of course you can Hermione, of course you can come home!"

Hermione gripped the back of her mother's shirt and felt her eyes burn with the force of the emotion behind them.

"I just want to come home." she murmured into her shoulder. "I just want to come home."

More coming soon!