The Freedom Land of the Seventies

A/N: This was a small plot bunny I got after reading "Another Bloody Birthday" by the ravenclaw woods (add dots in between). If you haven't read that story, be sure to check it out! As stated in the summary, this is a Charlie Weasley/Hermione Granger romance story with a good deal of smut. Sadly, there aren't many stories of the pair that's continually posted so I'm adding this to a small catalogue of fiction that has been stationed of the Charlie/Hermione stable this year. I hope you enjoy it! Also, just in case you're wondering, the title refers to the decade in which Charlie and Hermione were born in. Charlie was born December 12, 1972 and Hermione was born September 19, 1979.

Hermione liked to think of herself as a woman of twenty-four who was in control. She also would've accepted the mannerisms of practical, realistic, and sensible. After all, one needed such attributes as the head Healer of Creature-Induced Injuries at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. No matter what trouble happened to befall her at the infirmary, she always masked a cool demeanor even if she was being pulled in a dozen different directions by her staff – and that occurred on a daily basis. It thus seemed illogical that Hermione was in a positively distraught state of mind, though it was no fault of her own. No, instead, it was that of her roommate, Ginny.

It was Harry's twenty-fourth birthday and Mrs. Weasley had monopolized the celebrations for it in the late afternoon at the Burrow. The weather was fair, dipping several degrees whenever a gang of clouds mobbed the face of the sun. Hermione, who enjoyed such conditions, was refused to enjoy it for Ginny had cornered her in the orchard against a tree, the pair caught in the crosshairs of dueling avenues of wind.

"Six months and I still haven't met the bloke," Ginny accused. "Tell me, is it you that's keeping him away or is he doing that all by himself? If it's the latter, you should get rid of him and move on."

"Ginny-," Hermione started but was cut off.

"I mean, really, any guy that avoids family gatherings isn't much worth keeping around anyways. Don't get me wrong: I'm happy that you found someone else after Ron and all but this bonehead pulls more excuses out of his arse than a kid would with a bag of sweets."

Hermione was amused. Amused by the fact that Ginny felt so affronted that her boyfriend had alluded yet another opportunity for Ginny to meet him. It wasn't that he was scared to do so. On the contrary, it was more in line that he wanted to keep his identity a secret. Ever since they had started dating half a year ago, Ginny hounded Hermione relentlessly on who her new mystery man was. It was rather unfortunate that the two witches lived with each other for Hermione's only breaks from Ginny's constant line of questioning was when she was at St. Mungo's. And even then, Ginny rarely let Hermione take a breather.

After Hermione had expelled Ginny from visiting her place of work (You'll disturb my patients!), the youngest Weasley had feigned an injury only to pay Hermione a visit and continue her interrogation. Honestly, Hermione had fingered her wand and considered showing Ginny how many shades of black and blue she could paint on a human body. Yet, no amounts of threats could keep Ginny at bay. It actually made her more persistent. It was then that Hermione learned when Ginny smelled blood, she conjured a bucket to scoop it all up.

"He had to work," Hermione offered, shrugging her shoulders.

"That's his excuse all the time!" Ginny cried out in frustration. She had balled her hands into fists at her sides. "Don't you think that's a little suspicious? He could be hitting up another bird for all you know!"

"Trust me, he isn't," Hermione replied, trying to hide her smile. She mentally registered that she was flirting with a very dangerous game as Ginny grew angrier every time Hermione shot her down.

"You don't know that for sure," Ginny pointed out. Her finger was directed at Hermione's chest.

"You're right, I don't," Hermione nodded. "But he said he had to work and I believe him. That's that."

Ginny sighed as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her long, red hair blew in the breeze, twisting over her shoulder. Though she was troubled, Hermione caught a glimpse of why Harry was so attracted to the youngest Weasley. It was a wonder why she rebuffed his advances in furthering their own relationship for it had stalled shortly after she left Hogwarts.

"Well, did he really have to work all day? He could've stopped by, introduced himself, and went on his merry little way." She rested her hands on her hips. "You know mum's going to be equally disappointed, right?"

Hermione groaned. She had forgotten about Mrs. Weasley entirely. While Ginny was tenacious, her mother was far, far worse in her own perusals of investigating Hermione's love life. It was simply overbearing to the greatest and fullest extent. After Hermione's mum had succumbed to cancer shortly after her memories had been restored, Mrs. Weasley became a surrogate of hers and Hermione was happy for that. Yet, it was only one date in that had Mrs. Weasley break out her wedding planner, a relic she thought would sadly remain dormant until her own grandchildren were ready to tie the knot.

"I think disappointed would be an understatement," Hermione grumbled. "Don't you remember that she got a little tipsy the last time my boyfriend wasn't able to make it?"

Ginny thought about this and stated off-handedly, "Yes, well, mum's getting at that age that you constantly have to look out for her. And a little tipsy, really? If I have to sit through another dinner where mum forces dad to call her that disgusting pet name-,"

"Mollywobbles," Hermione inserted with a grin.

"-I might have to leave. I'll just up and go." Her face masked revulsion. Hermione, however, deduced that if Mollywobbles was traded around the table that evening at dinner, Ginny wouldn't be the only Weasley to clear away.

"If she does take a drink or two, at least she'll stop pestering me. I get it enough from you."

As Hermione turned away from the tree and exited the orchard, Ginny fell in step beside her and warned, "Oh, don't you believe for one second that this conversation is over! I need answers, woman!"

"And I've given you all that you need to know."

"Not really," Ginny tested. "It's been six months and still no name? That's a little unusual if you ask me! And all that we've gotten is he works at the Ministry? He's not that badly-shaven wizard who manages the Security desk in the Atrium, is he?"

"I already told you that he works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Hermione refuted.

"Doing what exactly?"

"He's a liaison in the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau," Hermione answered. "Now, if you don't mind, why don't you save your interview for when you actually meet him?"

"And when will that be? Another six months from now?"

"I'm sure it'll be soon," Hermione shrugged.

"That's what you said after your first date! I'll introduce you shortly, Ginny," she regurgitated in her best imitation of Hermione's voice. "It won't be long now! He's just flooded with work at the moment! After dinner tonight, I'll make sure he stops by! Need me to go on?"

"About that last one, I forgot he was allergic to cats."

"You forgot? You never forget anything!"

"Honestly! You can't expect me to remember everything all the time!"

"You always did before," Ginny shot back.

Hermione fixed her gaze forward, huffing in annoyance. Ginny never knew when to stop. Her allegations were endless, foraging beyond the farthest horizon. Hermione couldn't help but to feel impressed by her stubbornness…well, only when she wasn't the young vixen's target.

Just outside the Burrow, several tables had been squished together, a scarlet cloth blanketing its surface. The kitchen window behind it was open as Hermione spotted Mrs. Weasley bustling about inside. Bill and Fleur were chatting with Mr. Weasley on the front porch while George had a four-year-old Victoire on his shoulders, running around like a village drunk. She squealed in delight. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were readying brooms by the shed.

"Think they're going to take another go at a one-on-one Quidditch scrimmage," Ginny suddenly asked. Hermione noticed Ginny's eyes had zeroed in on Harry.

"You think they need more people?"

"Well, you can't play all the positions yourself!"

"Then why don't you volunteer? Of course, the teams will be uneven but I'm sure some of your brothers will gladly participate." Hermione scoured her surroundings, looking for one of the Weasley boys in particular.

"Don't feel like it," Ginny managed, tucking her chin.

"Don't feel like Quidditch or don't feel like seeing Harry?"

She was quiet for a minute, almost to the point where Hermione thought she had either ignored her question or hadn't heard it. Soon, though, she said a bit quietly, "Maybe a little bit of both."

"I don't understand," Hermione shook her head. "I thought you fancied him?"

"I do," she acknowledged. "I just have to figure some things out, is all."

"Like what?"

"Life in general," she replied. "Yeah, I like being with the Holyhead Harpies but obviously, that's a career with a short expiration date. I'm trying to figure out what to do afterwards."

"Already though? Ginny, you've only been playing Quidditch professionally for three years now. I'm positive you have a long way to go before thinking about stopping."

"Okay, fine, let me put it another way then: Let's just say I'm getting a bit bored with it. It was fun at Hogwarts playing for the Gryffindor team and even during the summers with my brothers. But now…I don't know, it's just different from what I expected it to be. I don't enjoy it anymore." She scoffed. "Actually, I never enjoyed it much at all."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Hermione was shocked to learn of Ginny's confession. And as far as she understood, no one else knew of her predicament, not even her own family. It was right out of school when Ginny was chosen to be the reserve Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. Three short years later, she was inducted onto the official team.

"What was I supposed to say? It was a job right after Hogwarts, it moved me out of my house, and it's a steady income. I know it shouldn't matter but I have more money now than my parents ever did. I can help out more, even though mum says I shouldn't. I can buy her and dad nice things they were never able to afford before. It feels good to do things like that." She glanced over at Harry and Ron again. "It's kind of like how Fred and George were after their joke shop started to make big financial gains. They always treated the family."

Hermione smiled though it was one that didn't reach her eyes. It seemed that Ginny was finally drawing awareness to what Hermione had some time prior: It was hard to appreciate the sacrifices adults made until you became one yourself. Hermione realized this shortly after her mother had passed away. There were many engagements she missed in order to make sure her father was doing alright. And even though he always said he was, age had certainly deteriorated his defense mechanisms. She had postponed and even cancelled date nights in order to spend time with her father. Family matters. And now, in young adulthood, Ginny was beginning to comprehend those forfeitures her parents had made when she was younger.

"I'm sure you know that no matter what you choose to do, your mum and dad will always support your decision," Hermione told her.

Before Ginny could reply, a deep voice asked aloud, "Support what decision?"

It was then that Hermione observed that she and Ginny had wandered over to the garden, and Charlie Weasley, who was without a shirt, was staring over at them in curiosity.

Ginny folded her arms across her chest and asked, "Where are your clothes?"

"On my body," he retorted, patting his dirt-stained jeans.

"And the rest of it? Like, maybe a shirt," she pressed.

"I took it off," he shrugged.

"Clearly," Ginny responded dryly. "And why'd you do that? Are you going to leave your work with dragons to become an exhibitionist?"

Charlie quirked up a brow at his sister and posed, "What's got you in such a pissy mood today?"

"I'm not in any type of mood," she defended hotly. "I just want to know why you're without clothes."

"I already told you I have clothes on. It's just one piece that's missing."

Ginny waited, tapping her foot as she did so. When it was clear Charlie had no intention of carrying on the conversation, she sighed loudly and said, "Do you care to tell us why?"

"Not really," he said with a small smile. "So what were you two talking about?" His eyes were now on Hermione. "Who was going to support what decision?"

"Like we'd tell you," Ginny sneered. "You can't even tell us why you aren't wearing a shirt."

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing but it's just ghastly to see you without one. Don't you think so Hermione?"

Hermione didn't think so, actually. In fact, she registered she hadn't seen anything hotter. Charlie had a weather-beaten face, tanned by his many days in the sun working with his dragons. His sea blue eyes were like sapphires in a desert. He had a soft nose and full lips while the flaming red hair atop his head was cut short and styled worthy of a Muggle politician. And while Charlie was the shortest of his brothers, he barely topped that of Ginny, he was by far the stockiest. Broad shoulders muscled their way into bulging biceps and thick forearms. His pectorals were like fluffy twin pillows on his chest while his abs looked as if they were chiseled out of stone. His hips were narrow while his jeans clung to his waist, the tips of his grey boxer shorts only slightly visible. Hermione found that she was salivating.

"He's a right sight better than Ron," she easily determined.

Ginny didn't catch Charlie's grin as she pressed a hand against her mouth and pretended to heave. "That was an image I needed in my head," she posed sarcastically. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Listen, about that, if you are going to vomit, you mind running off and taking that elsewhere?" Charlie said. "Seeing someone else throw up upsets my stomach a bit."

Ginny threw him a dirty look and bit back, "It was just an expression."

"You never know," he responded.

"Do you think you're funny or something? Or are you just trying to impress Hermione?"

"Trying to," he repeated, and then laughed. "I think I got that down already." Looking over at Hermione, he asked, "Are you impressed?"

"Quite," she returned softly with a nod of her head.

"Oh, come off it," Ginny intervened, throwing her hands in the air. "He's nothing special!"

"I'm sure many women would disagree with that," Charlie called out. "I can prove my point to you if you want me to, Hermione."

"Hang on a sec," Ginny said, stepping in front of Hermione and effectively shielding her from her brother's line of vision. "Are you actually hitting on her?"

"Didn't know that was a crime," he commented.

"It is since she has a boyfriend!"

Charlie paused, his lips slightly parted. He looked lost. "A boyfriend, huh?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "And what's this bloke's name?"

"No one knows because she won't tell anyone," Ginny answered before Hermione could. "Actually, we don't know much about him at all. Just a few things here and there." She sounded frustrated.

"Any reason why you're being so secretive," Charlie questioned.

"Because he asked me to," Hermione responded simply.

Charlie smiled as he turned to Ginny, shrugged, and said, "Well, there you have it."

"There you have what?"

"The reason why you don't know this guy's name or much about him…he doesn't want you to. Seems fair enough."

"Yes, you would know all about that, wouldn't you," Ginny nodded. "How many girls have you dated only to never bring home?"

"They weren't anything special," he answered. "Besides, most were casual flings. It wasn't anything serious."

Ginny looked over at Hermione and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "He's hopeless, isn't he? Mum's already given up on him. Thinks he'll tell her sooner or later that he's going to marry one of his dragons."

"That's front page news of the Prophet, that is," Hermione entertained the idea.

"You might think it's funny but I can see Charlie pulling it off. He's a bit mental when he wants to be."

"You know I'm still here, don't you," he asked. Hermione saw that annoyance bubbled his eyes.

"And your point," Ginny returned, swishing her hair over her shoulder.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Like making kissing noises with Harry or something? I'm pretty sure the shed's free. If not, try the garage."

"Excuse you but I'll have you know that he and I aren't dating. I should think you would know that by now with the crying warpath mum's been on lately."

"I'm not here enough to make out such things nor do I really care about them," he said. "But you're irritating me."

"Glad that I am," Ginny fired back. "It's only my duty as your younger sister."

"Look, why don't you run down to the village and see if you can pick up a Muggle there. Your afternoon and mine will be much more pleasurable if you do."

"I'm not some trollop looking for a throwaway shag," she seethed, fingering her wand. "If I recall correctly, that's your area of expertise!"

Charlie's eyes ping-ponged from Ginny to Hermione and back again.

"Fine, you mind leaving me alone then? I have work to get done."

Ginny glared over at him before she huffed and stomped away, heading in the direction of Harry and Ron's midair Quidditch game. Hermione looked after her before she turned her attention back on Charlie. He was staring at her intently.

"You know, that wasn't a very nice thing to say. She's a bit confused on what she wants with Harry."

"She was riling me up on purpose," he responded rather darkly. "I can't take that sitting down." He scratched at his chin. It looked like he had just shaved that very morning.

"She's just aggravated that my date has to work," Hermione smiled. "I mean, that is what you're doing, right?"

"Definitely," he grinned. "Mum told me to de-gnome the garden. I consider that a fair amount of work."

Hermione laughed. "So why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"I worked up a bit of a sweat getting rid of these things," he explained. "It takes a good amount of effort."

"I thought you meant you had something to do with the dragons."

"Nope," he shook his head. "I specifically took off on weekends so you and I can spend some more time together. Merlin knows we don't do that enough during the week. I'm not even on-call."

"We're still on for tomorrow, aren't we? Dinner by that lake of yours?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," he said.

Just then, an army of gnomes crashed through the bottom of the hedge, swarming past Charlie's feet, and back to their holes. They cackled loudly, their voices sounding like those of little girls at primary school. Several of them even head-butted Charlie's shins, angry at him for their displacement.

"And there goes all my hard work," he announced with a sigh. "I blame Ginny."

"Do you want help?"

"If you don't mind," he shrugged. "It's getting a little lonely in here."

"Really," Hermione asked, climbing over the fence. She was thankful she opted to wear jeans instead of the summer dress Ginny had forced in her face that morning. "Even with all the gnomes?"

"Well, maybe it's the company instead. I like yours much better than theirs." He then bent down, reached into one of the holes and grabbed a handful of gnomes. He spun his hands around in large twisters and flung them far over the hedge. The potato-like creatures with arms and legs sailed through the open air and landed with soft thuds in the open field. Hermione saw them stagger to their feet before twisting around and falling back down, dizzied by Charlie's treatment of them.

He turned around and said brightly, "Your turn!" He wore a large smile that punctured dimples in his cheeks.

Hermione moved in front of him, gently placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away. He smiled at her contact. After seizing a half dozen, she mimicked Charlie's actions, twirling them around and hurling them forward. While they didn't travel as far as Charlie's had, she was satisfied nonetheless.

"Not bad, not bad," he acquiesced, jutting out his bottom lip as if he had just witnessed a very close horse race.

"Didn't think I'd be able to throw them as far?"

"Actually, I didn't think you'd be able to at all." He had his arms folded across his bare chest. Skinny brooks of sweat glistened off it. She noticed one particular rivulet race down his abdomen and deposit on the elastic band of his boxer shorts. Hermione noticed this and before she could stop herself, thoughts of letting her tongue roam over his torso infiltrated her mind. She suddenly felt rather hot.

"Yes, well, um," she stammered, clearing her throat and trying to rid her head of the erotic images that kept popping inside it, "glad you think so."

Charlie laughed softly as he said, "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Hermione quickly waved away.

They were then distracted, of which Hermione was immensely grateful, as a trio of broomsticks flew over to them, Ginny leading Harry and Ron.

"You still aren't trying to flirt with her, are you Charlie?" At his sister's question, Ron nearly fell off his broom. "I already told you, she has a boyfriend!"

"Do you need something in particular? Before you lot came along, I was actually having a nice conversation with Hermione."

"We wanted to know if you two were up for a game of Quidditch," Harry asked. He waved down at Hermione as he did so.

"Not feeling it today," Charlie shook his head. He then turned back around and resumed his work with the gnomes.

"What about you, Hermione," Ginny called.

"Maybe another time," she replied. "I think your brother could use an extra set of hands in the garden." Though she couldn't see it, Hermione could almost sense Charlie's smile.

"Suit yourself," Ron said.

As they flew away, Charlie, his hands full of gnomes throwing a tantrum, remarked, "So you think I'm in need of some assistance, do you?"

"Would you rather I didn't help?"

"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "I just think you're funny, is all."

Hermione smirked as Charlie rubbed his brow with his arm, purging it of falling sweat. He then chucked the gnomes, one by one, over the hedge though he kicked the last one when it sank its teeth into his finger.

"Bloody creature," he cursed, shaking his hand.

"Here, let me see it," Hermione gestured.

"I'll be fine."

She sighed before she took hold of his hand in hers. Ignoring the electricity that cackled upon their contact, she waved her wand, healing the small cut.

"Going into Healer mode?"

"Well, it is my job," she returned, gazing up at him.

"You still like your work at St. Mungo's," Charlie asked her.

"I do," she nodded. "Why?"

"The position's still open at the medical center on the reserve. We haven't been able to find anyone to fill it yet."

"And you're hoping I'll take it," Hermione deduced lightly. Charlie's hand was still in hers.

"Only if you want to," he said. "But if you do, we'd be seeing more of each other during the week."

"Aren't you supposed to remain objective on these types of matters?"

"If it concerns you, of course not," he grinned.

Hermione thought the change over for a moment though it wasn't her first time doing so. Charlie had brought up the idea almost one month ago when the previous Healer on the reserve had retired…or rather, was forced to do so. At one-hundred-and-eight, she had begun suffering from cataracts and tinnitus. Of course, daily potions could remedy such conditions but it was only a matter of time before the side effects kicked in. And at her age, these consequences could be lethal.

"Would we share a place?" Hermione thought she sounded a bit too hopeful.

"If you want to," he replied easily. "I'll give you whatever you want."

"I'm not sure your mum would agree to such conditions." And it was true. Last Christmas, when Charlie and Hermione were tiptoeing around the idea of dating, the two had had their first shag. While it was rather unconventional for Hermione to partake in such an activity outside of a serious relationship, she reckoned that women have sexual needs that need to be fulfilled, just like men do. When she had spent the night at the Burrow for the wintry holiday, the pair had made an unconscious decision Hermione would be sleeping in Charlie's bed. And when she made to enter his room on Christmas Eve, Mrs. Weasley had charged past her and grabbed Charlie by the ear, dragging him out and forcing him to sleep on the couch downstairs. She then constructed intricate wards, effectively barring Charlie entry for the night. He was in a right mood the following morning though his mum was unfazed.

"We definitely won't be telling her," he licked his lips.

"Is that why you haven't told anyone about us yet? You're afraid she's going to find out?"

"I'm not sure I would say I'm afraid," he seesawed his head side to side. "It's just that dating in secret is much more enjoyable, kind of like walking on eggs and trying not to break 'em."

"What?" Hermione laughed loudly. "You've actually done that before?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically, it taking years off his age. "Bill and I used to do it a lot when we were kids. Mum would cast Stinging jinxes whenever she caught us. I remember some days out butts were nearly raw. Ask Bill if you don't believe me."

"I believe you," Hermione said. "It just seems a bit mental, don't you think?"

"It was something we came up with when we were bored. Mind you, this was before we were allowed to perform magic." Charlie interlaced his fingers with hers, stepping closer to her. "But I'll tell you this: There hasn't been one second I've been bored since you and I have become a thing."

"Careful, Charlie, words like that might actually get you somewhere."

"As long as it's with you, I'm game," he told her. He both looked and sounded serious.

"You know, I do have a flat to go back home to," she suggested.

"Yeah, along with a roommate, one who happens to be my sister. And correct me if I'm wrong but to my recollection, you and I aren't exactly quiet when we couple."

"There are ways around it," Hermione shrugged. As Charlie mulled this over, she ripped her fingers from his and exclaimed, "I can't believe you're actually considering not spending the night! Your letters this past week indicated you wanted to share a bed this weekend."

"Hang on a minute," he held up his hands. "I didn't say we wouldn't have sex. In fact, I didn't say anything at all."

"No, but it looked like you didn't want to," Hermione indicted.

"I was thinking about something else," he stated.

"Like what?"

"Just hear me out, okay?" When she nodded, he continued, "In the past, shagging you has been amazing, the most of anyone I've ever been with before. But the thing is, is that it's been quick, maybe too quick." He paused for a second and sighed. "Hermione, I want to take my time with you, to make you find your release multiple times, to make you so sore that you wouldn't be able to walk straight the next day. Quite honestly, I want to drill you senseless. I'm sure there are many ways to get you off and I want to explore each one of them with you."

"Foreplay is what you mean."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I mean, there's so much I want to do with you but I don't want to the run the risk of Ginny knowing. It's a two-way street though: I don't want to think about who she does the nasty with either. If you locked your door or set up wards on your room, that's a dead giveaway. And even though she doesn't know it's me, the fact that my little sister is creeping nearby turns me off. We've been lucky in the past that whenever we knocked boots, she'd been away for Quidditch. But this weekend she won't be."

Hermione reasoned with Charlie's argument knowing he made a fair point. During Ron's birthday celebration at the Burrow, Charlie had snuck her away for a wild snogging session. The only problem was that Bill had the same idea with Fleur. When they had nearly come upon the spot Charlie and Hermione were in, the intimacy between them had been shattered, especially hearing Bill giggling with Fleur.

"So what'd you have in mind, assuming you do have an alternative?"

At this, Charlie smiled and answered, "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

Dinner was a rambunctious affair as it usually is with a horde of Weasleys. They all had a wide assortment of food choices as Mrs. Weasley had seemed to cook her entire kitchen, exhausting it of all its ingredients. And she still didn't think that was enough. (The sausage will be gone before long! Hermione heard her fret to her husband. I just didn't know Ron still had a bottomless stomach!) Bill and Charlie were carrying on a conversation while Fleur was trying to feed Victoire. Percy was lecturing George on Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes durability with an actual finance budget as Ginny began to chastise Ron when a chunk of meat flew out of his mouth and onto her plate. (Why do we still have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full?! What are you, five?)

"So, Hermione," Harry began, calling for her attention, "what's going on with you and Charlie?"

"Me and Charlie," she repeated. When he nodded, she feigned confusion and asked, "What d'you mean?"

"I thought I saw you holding hands back in the garden."

"I was healing a cut of his," she answered shortly. "One of the garden gnomes bit his finger. That's all."

"Are you sure, because it didn't look like that was all?"

"And since when have you become so perceptive," she posed. "Clearly you weren't as insightful when at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, well with a dark lord vying for my death every year, it was kind of hard to put it into practice." This made Hermione smile. "Ron's been giving me a few pointers."

"Ron? Please tell me you're having a laugh."

"It's not Ron, per se, but more of what he gave me." His eyes flickered to Ginny.

"And what would that be exactly?" Hermione wasn't sure if she liked where this was going. She figured that Ron, of all people, would be the last person she would peg to have an ounce of romanticism in his body. It was as if it was a disease to him.

"It's just that he gave me a book some years back called Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches," Harry told her. "I thought it was rubbish until I cracked it open a couple of weeks back and read it."

"Find anything useful?" Hermione was rather amused by the stunt and vaguely wondered whether Ron had tried any tactics the book preached on her.

"Some," he nodded.

"Hang on," she interrupted before he could continue. "You had this book for a number of years and just now decided to read it?"

"I didn't think I'd have any use of it but never got around to tossing it out," he explained.

"So why now? Is it because of Ginny?" Harry's expression was an answer unto itself. "It is, isn't it? Oh, Harry, why would you resort to such a tactless book? You know you could've asked me for any help!"

"It's not all bad," he was quick to defend. "There's some good tips in there."

"Yes, and how many have actually worked?"

"I haven't gotten around trying them out yet," he replied. He cast another look at Ginny. Hermione followed suit.

"Can I assume that it's going to be soon, then?" She raised her brows to emphasize her point.

"Maybe," he shrugged rather sulkily.

"Well, if you want my piece of advice, don't use that book as a guide. In fact, the second you're able to, throw it away. I'm sure you know Ginny well enough to know that those strategies won't work on her."

Harry took a long sip of his Pumpkin Juice before he asked quietly, "I just don't understand why she keeps refusing to go out on a date with me. I thought that's what she wanted."

Remembering Ginny telling her that her first priority was to sort out her life, Hermione responded gently, "Give her some time. She'll come around soon enough."

He sighed. "I didn't think it would take this long for us to get back together."

"Did you suppose you were to be married with a couple of children by now?"

He made a disgusted face. "No! Definitely no children! It's not that I don't want any but we're still young, too young even. I can't even imagine raising a family at twenty-four."

"People have done it before," Hermione told him.

"Good for them but that's not for me," he replied. "Don't you feel the same?"

Hermione instinctively looked over at Charlie. He was in a conversation with Ginny.

"To an extent," she agreed. "But women have a much shorter window to have children."

"Really?" Harry looked surprised. "I didn't know that."

"I guess basic knowledge of the opposite sex wasn't one of the twelve fail-safe ways in charming witches," Hermione gathered. "Is that right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "If you want me to get rid of the book then I'll do it." He then added, "I just never thought you'd be the one to discourage me from reading."

"That's not it," Hermione reprimanded hotly. "It's just outrageous you would even need a set of instructions to appeal to someone you fancy!"

"Well, it's not like it's easy," Harry retorted. "Ginny…she's playing hard to get."

"Then you should be grateful. If she were doing otherwise then she'd already be taken."

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it. He seemed to be weighing the sincerity of her words, not knowing the factuality behind them. It was then that Ginny suddenly appeared behind Harry. She looked a bit anxious which Hermione found to be quite unusual.

"Harry," she called out. He immediately turned at the sound of his name. "Do you think I can talk to you for a minute?"

Hermione nodded as he turned to look at her. "Sure, sure," he said, standing from the table. "Where'd you want to go?"

"Outside," she commented, and they disappeared out the door.

Hermione watched it close as Charlie took a seat next to her. "Give it a minute or two and they'll come prancing back in here, announcing they're dating again." Hermione faced him. "Mum'll probably faint of happiness."

"And how can you be so sure?" She noticed that Charlie was sitting rather close to her. She itched to touch his chest, bearing in mind the sweat tracks that raced down it earlier that afternoon.

"I just finished giving Ginny some advice," he answered. "Kinda coerced her to give Harry a chance. It's not much of a surprise, I guess, that she was more than willing to."

"That was actually very nice of you." Hermione was taken aback.

He grinned as he leaned into her and said softly, "Don't think for one second I did it for them. You see, Ginny's going to need to be preoccupied in order for her to miss your absence at your flat."

Hermione felt her brows pull together across her head. "What're you talking about?"

"I thought we already established you and I were going to hit it raw tonight. Or are you having second thoughts?"

"And what exactly does that have to do with getting Harry and Ginny back together?"

"Since my sister's unpredictable, it could lead to one of two things: She reaffirms her status with Harry and tries to take you home to talk about her feelings," he rolled his eyes, "or she and Harry forget that you and her share a flat and decide to bump uglies themselves. If it's the former, I kinda like the idea of you feigning the notion that St. Mungo's called you in for an emergency and you can come with me. If it's the latter, you and I can slip away unnoticed."

"To go where?"

"My place," he eased.

"And you're sure that I still want to go through with this?"

"So you are having second thoughts," Charlie gathered, leaning back. His eyes swam in disappointment.

"No, I'm not," Hermione shook her head. "But your mum keeps eyeing us and I can't think of any way to leave without drawing attention."

"Tell her you're tired and call it a night," he proposed. "I mean, what's she going to do? Keep you locked up here?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it past her."

"Fine, then let me do the talking." Before further words could be exchanged between them, Charlie stood to his feet, drawing the attention of his family, and announced, "Hermione's a bit sloshed from all the Red currant rum Ron passed her at dinner." (I did not! he interjected.) "Since Ginny's apparently gone missing, I'm going to see to it that she gets home safely."

Hermione felt her cheeks burn as his mum shrieked, "Ronald! How dare you indulge in such debauchery! I am absolutely disgusted! Your brother now has to clean up a mess you made after he worked so hard de-gnoming the garden this afternoon! You should have done it instead! You should be ashamed of yourself! A twenty-four-year-old who lets one of his best friends get drunk! Absolutely absurd you depraved boy!"

Ron had opened his mouth to refute Charlie's allegation but Hermione didn't hear what he had to say. Charlie had whisked her away unnoticed.

Not that she didn't know it before, Hermione deduced that there wasn't a more comfortable place in all of England that she'd rather be in than in Charlie's arms for that was how they had apparated to his home on the dragon reserve. It, of course, helped that he taken up a position as a keeper at the newly-instated Dartmoor Dragon Sanctuary as well. It was only some miles away from the Burrow.

"Well, that was some exit," Hermione said.

"You didn't like it?" Humor fitted his eyes.

"You kind of left Ron in a bit of state with your mum."

"Don't worry about him, he'll be fine," Charlie waved away. "Besides, I like ringing his bell every now and then. It's amusing."

"I'm sure he'd disagree," Hermione volunteered.

He shrugged. "What does it matter? He'll forget about it in a day or two anyway." Hermione couldn't find fault with this line of logic. She knew Charlie was right. "In any case," he clapped his hands together loudly and rubbed them together as if he were cold, "do you want a quick tour or do you want to jump right into it?"

"You're a bit eager, aren't you?" She extracted herself from his arms.

She made to move toward his door when she sensed movement behind her. Turning around, she was suddenly pinned against a wall, Charlie's body flush against her. "If you want the details, I'm a bit backed up down there." His gaze traveled south. "Yeah, I suppose I could've choked the chicken but I find you much better."

"Am I to assume there wasn't any other way for you to find your release around here?" Hermione's voice was a high falsetto.

"Let's just say that fellow blokes and I don't paint with the same colors. And for the other female tamers, c'mon Hermione, you know I'd never cheat on you."

"I know you wouldn't," she smiled and closed the short distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

Initially taken by surprise, Charlie soon regained his composure and kissed her back, their lips molding over each other's. Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders while he firmly planted his hands on either side of her face. They breathed into one another, their kiss becoming more wet. Hermione then felt his bulge rub against her thigh. She became light-headed.

She reached down and found the hem of his t-shirt, tugging at it. He understood the message for he broke away from her, his lips swollen as she had little doubt that her own was as well, and pulled it over his head. He balled it up and threw it over his shoulder before he focused on Hermione's mouth. He grinned as he plunged forward again, this time, his tongue leading the charge.

She met it with equal fervor as she rested her hands on his pectorals. They were hard under her. As their saliva mixed together, pooling in each other's mouths, Charlie drew Hermione away from the wall and against his body. His arms encircled her lower back, ensnaring her to him. She felt so small against his large frame yet he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Instead, he undid her jeans as she kicked off her shoes. She pushed them down her legs, letting it pond her ankles. She then lifted one foot in the air, getting rid of her sock and repeating this action with the other.

Charlie sucked her bottom lip before he stepped back and pulled Hermione's top off her. It was discarded on the floor below, joining a growing collection of clothes there. She stood in front of him in her undergarments as he devoured her with his eyes. There was feral need that lurked in them, causing her stomach to bubble lustfully. He then unbuttoned his own jeans, yanking down the zipper and pushing it off of him. His erection tented his grey boxer shorts as Hermione spotted small puddles of pre-cum.

"Turn around," he said to her. His voice was thick with desire. Once she did, Charlie pressed his hard on against her buttocks, making her gasp. Pushing her hair to one side, he began sucking the side of her neck. She barely felt her bra unfasten and fall to the ground for Charlie had unleashed his tongue on her once again. Licking and sucking, he left half a dozen love bites in a matter of seconds as his hands found her breasts and groped them.

"Charlie," was all she could muster as his hands kneaded her boobs relentlessly. She reflexively shifted her butt against his boner, making him groan. One of her ass cheeks was smeared with pre-cum. It felt sticky. He titled her back and kissed her again, his hands working tirelessly against her.

He then turned her back around to face him as he dove for her chest, letting his tongue roam over her breasts. It fiddled with one peak and then the other. His arms wound around her back as she arched into him. He dragged his tongue from her torso and up the column of her neck, leaving a trail of saliva on her body, effectively marking her as his own. His erection throbbed against her.

"Charlie, I don't want to wait any longer," she nearly pleaded.

He looked into her eyes and said, "You're going to have to be patient. I'm not even close to being finished."

She whimpered as he guided her over to his bed, having her rest on its edge. Her breaths were shallow as he slowly removed her knickers. Setting both her legs on his shoulders, he leaned forward, letting his tongue forage her folds. Hermione threw her head back and moaned loudly, she feeling extremely wet. She impulsively ground against his mouth as her hands clawed away at his duvet. He took her labium into his mouth and sucked hard on them.

"That feels so good," she exclaimed wildly as Charlie voyaged all over her. When he found her clitoris, Hermione sucked in a large lungful of air. Charlie flicked his tongue over it, back and forth, up and down, so much so that Hermione felt like screaming. He was driving her mad. Charlie then closed his lips on her clit, and gently pulled it. "Charlie!" she gasped. He didn't answer her for he then began sucking on it. Her hips jerked automatically but he pressed his hands on her abdomen, keeping her grounded. Hermione then felt Charlie cup his mouth at the top of her slit and shove his tongue against her hood. He drew circles with it. Hermione threw her head to one side and then the other, her moans becoming louder and louder reaching a crescendo.

He then pulled away, his lips pink, and inserted a finger inside her. He began leisurely, letting Hermione's breaths dismount on the high horse it had been riding on. She felt his finger plunge into her wetness before he exited out and softly painted it on her clitoris and labium. She bit her bottom lip as Charlie repeated this action though this time, her wetness was like a roadmap on her inner thighs. He then went back and tenderly stroked her clitoris over and over.

After, Charlie removed Hermione's legs off his shoulders and stood to his feet, thumbing the band of his boxer shorts before pushing them down. Strings of cum hung like thick cables from his shaft. As he reached down to remove his socks, Hermione stopped him.

"No, don't," she whispered.

"Why not?"

She shrugged as the shudders that had tore through her body only moments before slowly abated. "I guess I have a fetish for black socks." Charlie smirked down at her as Hermione repositioned herself fully on his bed, resting her head on his pillows. He slowly crawled on top of her like a panther ready to mate.

Coffining her body under his, Charlie pushed her arms over her head where he held them with his hands. He then continued to pillage her neck, moistening it. Hermione wriggled and squirmed as her legs tangled with his, her feet coming into contact with the black socks she commanded him to keep on.

Charlie paused in his adventure, sitting up on his knees and climbing off the bed. He then grabbed Hermione's hands and pulled her with him before he spun her around so that her backside was facing him.

"Bend forward," he said. She did as Charlie grabbed hold of his wand and pointed it at his open palm. A jelly-like glob suddenly appeared. Setting his wand aside, Charlie rubbed the substance together before coating his length with it. "This might be a bit uncomfortable at first," he told her. "If it hurts, just tell me and I'll stop." Hermione could only nod once as she was drunk on anticipation. He eased her legs father apart before he gently pushed his penis into her bum. At first, Hermione felt extremely tight, so much so that she bit back a scream. She knew Charlie wanted to try this for a while now but she was always a holdout. Tonight, however, she wanted to please him.

"You okay," he asked.

"I'm fine," she managed softly.

She heard Charlie blow out a breath as he extracted himself out of her and then pushed back inside. He did this over and over before he found a rhythm and adhered to it. His hands on her hips, Hermione felt every inch of him with his thrusts. And as sweat caped her back, Charlie began to quicken his pace. Breathless and moaning, Hermione couldn't even think properly, not with Charlie's ball sack slamming into her repeatedly. THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! His grunts grew in intensity as shockwaves of intimacy detonated within her.

"Charlie!" Hermione gasped loudly. She felt an aching sensation between her legs, almost as if she had a heartbeat there. She felt hot, her body tingled, and her skin was sensitive. As Charlie kept plunging inside her (THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!), a stimulating heat abruptly exploded inside her, sprinting through her entire body from her head to her toes. Her back arched as the power of her orgasm peaked. Her sex contracted in pure pleasure, her body quaking with aftershocks.

She was panting, out of breath, as she felt Charlie exit her. However, she wasn't given much time to recuperate for Charlie slid onto the bed, pulling Hermione so that her back was against his chest. After kissing her shoulder, he grabbed her leg and hoisted it into the air. Without warning, Charlie drilled deep in her vagina. This time, he didn't care for building into a routine for she knew he was close to his own release. As Charlie pounded harder and harder, Hermione felt her breasts bouncing all over her chest as her voice morphed into cries of lust. She reached behind, found his buttocks, and gave them a squeeze. This made him only bone her with even more vigor.

Hermione heard Charlie's grunts become more pronounced while she felt his breath against the back of her neck. "You feel so good," he chuffed out. He then pushed out of her, turning her on her back. Without wasting a second, Charlie spread her legs far apart and shoved his dick deep inside her. Hermione whimpered. Feeling small spurts of his early arrival, she wound her arms over his shoulders, his pace never once hampered. Her legs began to tremble as Charlie said softly, "Hermione, I'm going to…I'm going to come."

He looked into her eyes as he slammed into her persistently, his headboard banging into his wall. He then rammed into her hard before he stilled. In what followed, Hermione felt warm, thick ropes shoot into her as Charlie groaned loudly, curling his hands into fists beside her. His penis pulsated inside her as he continued to pour into her, she feeling a certain warmth flood her entrance. He then captured her lips with his again as he rolled onto his back, the two of them still connected. He pushed into her twice more, squeezing her buttocks hard when he did so, before he let his arms fall on both sides of him spread-eagled.

Hermione curled into his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him. She felt totally and fully satisfied. She even wagered that if tonight was her last, she'd part from the world a happy, former resident. And while they had sex before, it was different this time. Charlie was more methodical, more determined to last longer than the times they had participated in the act before. She knew that his experience could make up for her lack of one but she certainly didn't expect this.

As a comfortable soreness settled within her, she felt Charlie's semen river out of her. Speaking without looking at him, Hermione suddenly commented, "You know, I always thought that dragon tamers lived in tents."

Charlie burst out laughing. Her head shook with his chest. "I just hit it raw with you and all you can think about is where dragon tamers live?"

"It's the first thing that popped into my head. I mean, I've never visited before."

"You sure I didn't pork some of the sense out of you?" Hermione smacked his arm. He grinned. "Think we all live in tents," he repeated mockingly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you thought we all had long hair, too."

"It did cross my mind," Hermione confirmed.

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble but no, we don't live in tents. I don't understand why people would think magical governments, the Ministry in this case, wouldn't provide adequate housing to handlers to live in while on any dragon reserve. It's just mental! And having long hair is simply a hazard. It's too dangerous to have when working around the beasts." Charlie let out a breath and then asked, "Why? Do you like long hair?"

Hermione peeked up at him and observed his short hairstyle. Scrunching her nose, she answered, "No, I like your hair as it is now."

"That wasn't my question."

"No, but it was what you were referring to."

He scoffed, "Please."

The two fell silent as Hermione closed her eyes. She was surprised at how tired she felt.

"I take it you're sleeping over, then," Charlie posed.

"Why? Are you expecting someone else to come over," she mumbled back.

He chuckled. "You're such a little spit-fire, even when you're half asleep." He paused. "I like it."

Charlie and Hermione subsequently settled in each other's arms, the duvet pulled up against their chests. Using his shoulder as a pillow, Hermione nearly fell off the deep end and into sleep. Before she did so, however, she thought it logical that at the end of the day, she was in a collected and composed state of mind, though it wasn't of her own accord. No, instead, it was in sync with her boyfriend, Charlie Weasley.

A/N: Please let me know what you think with a review! Thanks for reading!