A/N: *bounds in to hand over 8k+ words*

*snickers cruelly*

*saunters away*

xx-Kitten.

Begging for Thread

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Six

When Hermione woke in the morning she found herself intimately entwined with Charlie Weasley, her leg thrown across him and her head pillowed on his chest. His hands held her snug against him and Hermione squinted in the dimly lit room, trying to figure out where she was for one long, brain-dead moment before she recalled that this was Headquarters and the room she and Charlie were tentatively sharing. Wondering what the time was and why she'd awoken, Hermione wriggled in Charlie's grip until she managed to pry herself loose. She squeaked when she attempted to roll away from him, her bladder making its demands known, only to find that there was something warm and soft occupying her side of the bed.

"Sprocket?" Hermione frowned at the enormous dog where he was sprawled across the covers lying on his side, his back facing her.

The dog's tail began to wag but he didn't lift his head or attempt to move despite Hermione almost squashing him.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Hermione muttered, wiggling around some more and attempting to avoid disturbing Charlie and to keep from crushing the dog. Not that she really thought she could, big as he was. Grumbling under her breath, Hermione scooted on her bum to the end of the bed after she got free of the covers - no easy feat with Charlie gripping one end and the huge dragon-hound lying on the other end.

She frowned down at her naked body when she realized she was nude, and Hermione sighed before stumbling around the side of the bed to locate the jumper she'd pinched from Charlie, recalling that she'd taken it off and that he'd tossed it on the floor after she'd thrown it at him. When her private parts were sufficiently covered enough that she could get away with leaving the room, Hermione let herself out of the bedroom intent on getting to the bathroom and dealing with her impatient bladder.

Having been awake so late, and certain that it was still rather early in the morning, Hermione was tired and cranky, and she planned to go back to bed just as soon as she'd peed. The process was impeded when she collided with Tonks as the other witch was leaving the bathroom, looking similarly disheveled. Her pink hair was all in a mess and she was covered in love bites, claw-marks, and real bites.

"Mmmpphff," Tonks grunted unintelligibly, flapping her hands at her sides in frustration because Hermione was in the way.

"Grmmphh," Hermione responded just as inarticulately.

She didn't protest when Tonks put her hands on Hermione's shoulders, steering her out of the way so they could pass one another in the doorway.

Hermione realized when she'd locked the bathroom door and sat herself down on the loo that it was just as well Tonks was also tired, else the other woman would've noticed Hermione's attire and she suspected that if the witch didn't already know she was shagging Charlie, she was going to make a fuss about it. Probably not in a bad way, Hermione supposed, but a fuss nonetheless. And the more fuss going on, the more likely it was that her little arrangement with Charlie would get back to Molly, Ron, and Ginny, and Hermione didn't much fancy that idea.

She didn't at all like the sound of facing off against Ron's temper when he learned she was shagging his older brother. That would go over as well as a fart at a tea party, Hermione was sure. He would grow irrational and offended and likely accuse her of being a trollop and maybe even try to guilt-trip her about how he'd broken up with Lavender, thinking she still fancied him. Hermione wasn't looking forward to breaking the news to the idiot that she wasn't some brainless bimbo ruled by her emotions.

Yes, initially she'd been jealous because she'd thought he and her were going to Slughorn's Christmas party together last year. But when she'd seen the way he snogged Lavender so disgustingly she'd gotten over her jealousy and gotten over her crush before moving right on to being disgusted with him both for thinking he could make her jealous as a means of finding out if she fancied him, rather than just asking, and also because it was Lavender. Air-headed, simpering, gossiping little bitch who made fun of Hermione's hair and excluded her even in their shared dormitory, Lavender. And that hadn't been something she could easily forgive.

She'd moved on, courtesy of encountering Theodore Nott invading her usual study-nook at Hogwarts shortly after Ron and Lavender had made spectacles of themselves. And unlike her bone-headed best friends, he wasn't an utter moron, but actually well-versed in magic just like she was, and he actually enjoyed reading. Coupled with the fact that he turned out not to be a raging bigot like Malfoy and his cronies, Hermione had found a companion to pass away hours with when she'd needed a break from watching Ron and Lavender lick each other's tonsils.

She couldn't remember which one of them had moved first to turn their tentative friendship that mostly revolved around companionable reading and the occasional heated debate over common magical theorems, into snogging against the bookshelves and shagging in broom cupboards, but it had, and Hermione could honestly say that shagging him had been cathartic. Theo had certainly cured her of her wretched crush on Ron, that was certain. What was more, he never made any demands of her. He was as happy to spend the evening shagging her as he was to sit beside her, each of them reading the separate books.

He'd even plucked up the courage to ask her shortly before Christmas last year if she'd like to turn their little arrangement into something more permanent and more meaningful. Hermione smiled as she went about her business, recalling the sheepish way the bookish Slytherin had alluded the idea of accompanying her to Slughorn's party when he learned she didn't have a date. While she'd rather adored him for offering, when they'd discussed it frankly, spanning everything from her close friendship with Harry and her affiliation to the Order, all the way through to his father being a Death Eater and pressuring Theo to follow in his footsteps, they'd both realized that it would be a messy, doomed relationship even before it could begin. Without the war looming, things might've been different, but eventually they'd both come to the conclusion that things between them couldn't ever go beyond secret rendezvous in broom cupboards and forgotten corners of the castle.

Hermione had accepted that, though she'd never told her friends about it, and at the end of the school year just before breaking for the holidays Theo had pulled her aside wanting a quiet word with her. Her stomach sank all over again when she recalled the way he'd led her to an abandoned Charms classroom and locked the door before turning to her with an apology gleaming in his green eyes. She'd known before he rolled up his sleeve that he'd been branded a Death Eater.

What was worse, she'd known that they'd had to do horrible things to him to make him accept it, knowing intimately just what his views were on blood prejudice. It had felt like goodbye, that last, sensual shag they shared, and Hermione knew she'd caught him trying to hide the tears that escaped him by burying his face in her hair. He'd told her they couldn't continue their little secret love affair in the coming year, that he'd been forced to pick the losing side in the war and would be forced to do reprehensible things, lest he be tortured or killed for being too weak. He'd made her promise to protect herself and her family as best she knew how, and he'd made her promise she wouldn't worry about him and wouldn't dwell on what they'd had.

When he'd broken the news to her that along with a brand new Dark Mark, he'd also been given a marriage contract and informed he would be marrying Daphne Greengrass in short order, he'd actually let her see the tear that ran down his cheek, then. Hermione hadn't really known what to tell him or how to comfort him, knowing he didn't fancy Daphne in the slightest and knowing that, despite their resolution not to turn their affair into anything involving emotion, that he'd grown to care for her deeply.

Hermione sighed as she washed her hands, examining herself in the mirror and wincing at the state of her wild curls. She traced her eyes over the red and gold jersey encasing her body, shaking her head just a little at the name C. Weasley stamped across her chest and her back. Charlie had been unexpected, to say the least. She'd vowed to Theo that she wouldn't dwell on their past, and that she'd find someone new, and she supposed that she'd done so.

She didn't know yet what she and Charlie were going to be. Maybe they would just shag for the summer. Maybe they'd shag for longer than that. Maybe he had a collection of bad habits she didn't know about yet that would make her rethink notions of continuing their fun. All she really knew was that he was in the room she'd wanted to claim for herself, he wasn't moving, he was a bloody good shag, and thus far he was proving to be extremely uncomplicated, which was something she found she valued very much. She liked that she didn't feel the need to second guess herself with the Dragon Tamer. Not when they were shagging, and not when they were just sharing that room. She hadn't thought twice last night before peeling him out of his clothes and healing his wounds.

She hadn't spent yesterday dwelling on what shagging him so quickly might mean or worrying that he might think her a tart for dropping her dress at the first hint of seduction. She didn't worry that he might discover all her bad habits whilst sharing a room with her for the summer. Indeed, the only thing she was worried about where Charlie Weasley was concerned was the reaction his family would have when they found out the two of them were shagging. She'd bet Molly would pitch a fit.

That Hermione would dare to flip off one brother in favour of another wouldn't sit well with the witch. Hermione was expecting a frosty reception when Molly found out. After all, Hermione hadn't forgotten the way the woman had treated her in fourth year when she'd been reading Skeeter's lies and had believed that Hermione was two-timing Harry and Viktor. Indeed, she suspected it might've been Molly who told Ron to try things on with Lavender to make Hermione jealous, and that had backfired spectacularly. She could just imagine that Molly was going to be first surprised, then annoyed with her for shagging Charlie if and when she found out. Eventually, she might come around to the idea, if she and Charlie actually became a couple, rather than roommates and fuck buddies, but until then she suspected things would be rather tense.

Shaking her head to herself and grabbing a drink of water before using some of the mouthwash in the bathroom to clear the foul taste from her tongue, Hermione exited the bathroom once more and began the climb back toward her bed. She was grateful she didn't run into Tonks or Remus on the stairs again, and she narrowed her eyes when she reached the bedroom to see that Sprocket was still sprawled across her side of the bed.

Not fancying being spooned by the dog or trying to wedge herself between the hound and Charlie, Hermione rounded the bed to Charlie's side and peeled back the covers. Charlie grunted, frowning though he didn't open his eyes, and Hermione crawled into the small space next to him before shuffling back against him, forcing him across the bed a small way.

"You alright?" he grumbled, rolling to his side and shuffling across the bed a bit before slinging his arm over her waist.

"Sprocket's on my side," Hermione replied, burrowing down next to him, intent on getting back to sleep.

She felt the way Charlie twisted, his arm disappearing from around her to shove at the dog.

"Bloody hound," he chuckled huskily, still sounding mostly asleep. "Move over, mutt. You're hogging all the space."

Hermione heard Sprocket groan before the bed jostled and Charlie pulled her across the mattress toward the middle, clearly not minding in the slightest to have the dog pressed against his back while he slept.

"What time is it?" he asked Hermione when he looped his arms around her once more.

"Only just six," Hermione said.

"Urgh," Charlie groaned. "Why are we awake?"

"I had to pee," Hermione said unrepentantly.

"More sleep," Charlie growled, burying his face in her hair.

Hermione couldn't agree more, closing her eyes and snuggling into his hold a little deeper before drifting back to sleep.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The next time she woke, Hermione knew it a heartbeat that they weren't alone. Something evidenced by the sound of a woman humming as the door creaked open. Hermione's eyes flew open and her whole body tensed. Behind her, Charlie tensed as well, his arm tightening around her and pulling her a little closer against his chest before he rolled just a bit further in her direction, half-covering her body with his. Having turned in her sleep so that she was facing into his chest, Hermione realized he was trying to help hide her.

Molly Weasley didn't pause in her humming as she bustled into the room, clearly not expecting to find her son awake or with company. When something heavy suddenly flopped down on Charlie back, making him huff in surprise, Hermione blinked her eyes open, tipped her face to look at him and spotted Sprocket resting his chin on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie grinned at her, and Hermione realized that the dog was also attempting to help hide her, making Hermione think that the Dragon-Hound must be as intelligent as a Kneazel.

"Oh, Sprocket, dear, you'll squash him. Silly dog," Molly began to chuckle as she picked up the laundry hamper. "What are you doing on the bed, anyway? Honestly, Charlie, haven't I told you to train him not to sleep on the bed. You'll ruin the sheets, he's so furry."

Charlie rolled his eyes at Hermione, clearly disapproving his mother's notions of making his companion sleep on the floor and Hermione made a mental note not to mention that she'd prefer not to have to share the bed with the dog, too. In response to her question, clearly knowing his mother knew he was awake, Charlie groaned unintelligibly.

"Oh, don't be like that, dear. It's after ten, already. You need to get up and face the day, love."

"Mum," Charlie grumbled, and Hermione marveled at the grown man's ability to sound like a petulant child. She tried very hard not to giggle.

"Don't give me that tone, Charlie Weasley. It's high time you sorted out your sleeping schedule and stopped sleeping the days away."

"I work with the lizards until after midnight every night, Mum," Charlie reminded her, rolling his eyes and sounding impatient. "Let me sleep, would you?"

"Oh, now really. I don't see why you can't start work earlier and finish earlier as a result," Molly said, clearly not taking the hint.

Sprocket barked at her.

Hermione had to bury her face in Charlie's chest to keep from giggling out loud when Molly huffed disapprovingly.

"You'll be late for work if you go back to sleep now, love. Why don't you come downstairs and have some breakfast?"

Charlie groaned again.

"Mum, what are you even doing here?" Charlie growled, sounding less and less tolerant of the woman the longer she stayed.

"I thought I'd stop by to make sure you're alright. I know how Nymphadora makes a mess of the kitchen, and I haven't done laundry here in days… though I see you must've put a load on yourself?"

Charlie tipped his head to meet Hermione's gaze, his eyes wide. Hermione nodded. "I did some yesterday," she whispered.

"Did it yesterday, Mum," Charlie said. "Changed the sheets and everything."

"Don't let her take that basket," Hermione whispered, beginning to panic. "My knickers and things are in there. She'll know…"

Charlie paled a little.

"You actually did your own laundry?" Molly asked, seeming surprised and maybe a little offended.

"I'm a grown man, Mum," Charlie reminded her. "Been living away from your cooking and cleaning habits for almost eight years, since Hogwarts. I can actually take care of myself, you know? Leave the basket. I'll do another load later in the week, alright?"

"But…" Molly protested, and Hermione closed her eyes, realizing the woman really didn't know how to be anything but an efficient mother.

Charlie winced.

"Mum… I got it, yeah? You're not currently staying here, and I'm used to fending for myself. I don't need you stopping by to pick up after me, I promise."

"But, I…" Molly said. "I'm your mother."

Charlie winced.

"Mum," he sighed, frowning at Hermione and clearly unsure what to do, she silently pointed out the fact that while she was still wearing his jersey from her trip to the bathroom, he was stark naked under the sheets.

"You don't need me…" Molly said, sounding rather forlorn.

"Mum, I didn't say that," Charlie said, looking panicked now. "Look, if it means so much to you, take the hamper and put on a load of washing… but I'm naked here, you know? Give me a minute to get dressed, and we'll have a cup of tea, alright?"

Having gotten her way, Molly perked right back up and Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes, darling," she said before bustling around the room, collecting more of the clothing littering the floor.

Hermione just knew the woman was going to realize that some of them were girl's clothes and she closed her eyes, waiting for Molly's gasp of surprise. When it didn't come before the door creaked closed as Sprocket bounded after Molly, she rolled out of Charlie's hold and stared at him.

"Bloody hell," Charlie said.

"My clothes are in that hamper," Hermione said.

"Will she know they're yours?" Charlie asked.

"Who else would you be luring into bed with you at Order headquarters?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows. "She'll know they belong to someone who knows how to get in. The house is protected by Fidelus charms."

"Yeah, but Dumbledore's dead. Maybe she'll think I've got myself a girlfriend and told her how to get in," he said.

"You don't think she'll know it's me when you appear downstairs in a few minutes before I arrive, looking just as sleep disheveled?" Hermione challenged.

Charlie sighed, flopping onto his back and running his hands over his face.

"If you wait a while before coming down, she won't know. Maybe grab a shower? Or sleep for longer, if you like?" he suggested.

Hermione sighed, rolling out of bed and running her hands through her hair.

"She's going to find out," Hermione said. "I warned you this would happen."

Charlie nodded before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"What are you doing sleeping in clothing, anyway?" he asked before she could pull the jersey off over her head, intent on getting dressed, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep any longer with Molly in the house.

"I didn't take it off after I went to the loo this morning," Hermione shrugged.

"We had a deal, Granger," Charlie said.

Hermione squeaked when he lunged for her, snagging his arms around her a pulling her across the room and down into his lap until she was straddling him.

"Don't even think about it," Hermione told him, finding that despite the awkwardness of his mother invading their bedroom, he was still aroused at the sight of Hermione.

"You're not wearing knickers," Charlie grinned.

"You mother is downstairs," Hermione reminded him even as she smoothed her hands over his shoulders and up to tangle in his hair.

"She'll keep. She's busy investigating whose knickers are in my hamper," Charlie chuckled, stretching up, intent on kissing her.

"We're going to get caught," Hermione said against his lips before kissing him hungrily, a bolt of magic zinging through her blood the minute their tongues met.

"So, what?" Charlie replied before snogging her senseless.

He laid back against the bed, pulling her down on top of him and Hermione kissed him hungrily, grinding herself against him and grinning at the way his cock twitched. Lifting herself off him just enough, Hermione guided him inside of her, impaling herself upon him and moaning softly at the feel of him filling her up. Peeling the jersey off over her head, Charlie traced his hands over her waist and up to cup her breasts as Hermione slowly slid up and down the length of his cock, marveling at how good it felt to have him inside of her.

The view he made all stretched out on the bed certainly leant itself to having Hermione forget her annoyance with Molly for being so pushy and nosy, and her annoyance with Charlie for not being firmer with his mother. She didn't at all fancy the way the woman would react when she found Hermione's clothes in that basket and Hermione made a mental note to hide them away when they were returned, lest Molly spot her wearing them and figure out Hermione was shagging Charlie before Hermione was ready to face the disapproval and chiding the woman would undoubtedly unleash.

"Fucking hell, koroleva," Charlie breathed when Hermione put her hands on his chest for balance, working herself up and down the length of his cock. He closed his eyes, tipping his head back like he couldn't get enough of the searing heat boiling between them.

Hermione had always loved morning sex because of how utterly lazy it felt. Awaking aroused and stretching for orgasm was almost as good as that first big stretch of muscles in the morning when her spine popped and her toes curled and Hermione smiled a little as Charlie tightened his grip on her hips, thrusting up into every downward slide as she rode him.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"Hmmm?" Charlie hummed, bucking under her harder as Hermione began to clamp down around him, her body clenching and fluttering with oncoming release.

"Koroleva," Hermione clarified. "You keep calling me koroleva. What does it mean?"

Charlie's lips twitched like he might laugh, his breath coming a little faster as he opened his blue eyes to meet her gaze.

"Can't tell you that, love," he chuckled softly. "You might hit me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, gasping when he dug his strong fingers into her hips even tighter, thrusting up into her even harder and hitting on that special spot deep inside of her that made her crazy. The wicked coil of heat twisting inside of her almost drove her mad when he reached up with one hand to pull her down closer before claiming a searing kiss from her lips.

Flames danced behind her eyes when they slid closed as the inferno inside of her set her ablaze.

"Oh, god, Charlie," Hermione breathed against his lips when the new angle pitched her off the cliff and into the raging firestorm of sensation.

Charlie's low chuckle was wicked, and he seemed to take great delight in riding out her orgasm before flipping her across the bed, rolling with her and driving into her harder. Hermione curled her legs around his waist, delirious with the endorphin rush and the flare of magic that seemed to course through her every time he kissed her. He thrust hard and fast, chasing down his own release and he gave a low groan that made her quiver with delight as he drove into her hard and held, his hips jerking just a little as he emptied himself within her.

Breathing hard, he relaxed on top of her, pinning her to the bed in a way that Hermione was thinking she could get very used to, in fact. She panted a little, tracing her fingers over the strong muscles of his back, feeling them jump and shift restlessly beneath his skin as he tried to catch his breath.

"Why do you think I'd hit you if you tell me what it means?" Hermione wanted to know, frowning a little as she stared at the ceiling above him, knowing he needed to hurry downstairs, else Molly would likely come back up looking for him.

Charlie chuckled again, lifting himself enough to prop himself up on his elbows so he could peer into her face. He would a wicked little grin and Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"It means 'queen', in Russian," Charlie told her.

Hermione frowned at him.

"Why would I hit you for calling me that?" she wanted to know.

"Because where I come from, in the Dragon Sanctuary, koroleva is the term for a female dragon. The term for the males is balaur. Didn't think you'd appreciate being called a girl dragon," Charlie chuckled. "At least not while you were riding my todger."

Hermione's cheeks brightened at his smirk and his teasing tone, and she knew he was waiting for her to be offended that he was called her a giant fire-breathing lizard. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Hermione didn't say anything about it, not offended in the slightest, but not entirely sure how she felt about the endearment, either.

Before she could open her mouth and remind him that he needed to be getting downstairs to have a cup of tea with his mother, the sound of claws scratching at the door followed by a whine sounded.

"That'll be Sprocket," Charlie chuckled. "Likely sent by Mum, or scolded by Mum."

"You better let him in then, before he destroys the door with those dinner-plate sized paws," Hermione said.

Charlie laughed, rolling off her.

"Bloody hell, I should shower before I go to work, or the lizards are going to try and eat me again," he said, climbing to his feet and scrubbing his hands over his face and into his red hair. "They took issue with your scent all over me, yesterday."

"If you take the time to shower now, your mother is going to come back up here and start poking around in your things looking for clues as to whose knickers are in your hamper," Hermione told him.

"If she hears the shower running, she'll know you're here, too," Charlie told her, frowning a little. "Are you planning to come down and say hello?"

Hermione frowned a little, sitting up slowly and covering herself with the sheet for a minute when he opened the door to let Sprocket into the room once more. She narrowed her eyes when Crookshanks streaked in after the dog and dove beneath the bed, clearly not pleased about Molly's arrival, either.

"If she sees me here, she'll likely try and ship me off to the Burrow with all of them," Hermione admitted. "Even if she doesn't work out that I'm sharing your bed."

"Don't want to go?" Charlie asked, raising one eyebrow.

"It might be a bit awkward," Hermione confessed. "I expect Ron might be… a bit…"

Charlie raised one eyebrow as he pulled on some track pants, clearly planning to return to the room and change before going to work later.

"What's the deal there?" Charlie asked. "How likely is my little brother to try and knock my head off when he finds out about this?"

He waved a finger between the two of them indicatively.

Hermione sighed.

"I doubt he'll be angry with you," Hermione admitted. "He'll just take his temper out on me and likely call me a trollop. We…. Well, I don't know if you knew about the girl he was dating last year?"

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Lavender Brown, right?" Charlie guessed.

Hermione nodded. "She's in my year at school. A right cow, if I'm honest. She's always been horrid to me, and when she and Ron started dating she knew I'd fancied him for a bit, and she rubbed it in with a vengeance. Anyway, when he was accidentally poisoned he said my name while he was unconscious. They broke up, and Harry told me that Ron said he'd mostly started dating her to begin with to feel out whether or not I had feelings for him."

"Which you do?"

"Did," Hermione corrected with a shrug. "I could take an educated guess at who suggested he date someone else to make me jealous and force my hand, and unfortunately the woman is entirely too meddlesome and doesn't know me nearly as well as she imagines. I was annoyed, and I was hurt, and then I got over it. I spent most of last year shagging someone else – though Ron doesn't know about that, either."

"Who?" Charlie asked, frowning at her.

"You'll think ill of me if I tell you," Hermione hedged, frowning at him as she rose to her feet and used her wand to clean up the mess they'd made between her thighs before pulling on some knickers and her bra.

"I'll think worse of you if you leave me to imagine all the horrid people I can think of," Charlie argued.

Hermione sighed. She supposed there was no harm in telling him. The worst he could do was tell Ron, and Hermione was prepared to handle that, should it come to that.

"Theodore Nott," she admitted with a heavy sigh as she fished a pair of denim-short and a loose-fitting tank top from the top drawer across the room and pulled them on. "He's a Slytherin bloke in my year at Hogwarts."

"His Dad's a Death Eater, Hermione," Charlie frowned at her. "Bill and I had a run in with Thoros Nott about a month ago in Diagon Alley when Bill was on his way to work after meeting me for lunch. If Finn hadn't been there, we'd likely have ended up dueling to death in that dingy side-street."

Hermione nodded.

"I know Thoros is a Death Eater. I know they pressured Theo to take the Dark Mark, too. He showed it to me before the end of term last year when we ended our… arrangement… following his being branded, and his betrothal to Daphne Greengrass."

Charlie was frowning at her.

"You didn't care that he was a bigot?" Charlie asked.

"Theo's not a bigot, actually," Hermione said, smiling sadly. "He cried when he showed me the mark and told me the things they'd forced him to do to 'earn' it. They used the Imperius curse on him, and the Cruciatus, from what I gathered."

Charlie frowned, nodding a little.

"You cared for him," he said, tipping his head to one side.

"I did," Hermione confessed, nodding her head. "I still care about him, to be completely honest. And as such I know that continued association will only hurt both of us. The point is, since I was shagging him in broom cupboards, I rather got over being quite so interested in Ron. But, as I said, Ron doesn't know about Theo and I, and so I expect that when the times comes that the two of us are alone, he's eventually going to initiate some kind of conversation to feel out whether or not I still fancy him, and that'll be rather awkward if it's just me, Ron and Ginny there with your Mum and Dad for the holidays."

Charlie was still frowning at her, looking a bit like he didn't know what to make of the things she'd shared, and Hermione wondered if he thought less of her for shagging the son of a Death Eater.

"So, you're going to hide up here, instead?" Charlie asked eventually, choosing not to comment on her past paramours.

"Well, the alternative is to come down there and make nice with your mother while she suspiciously wonders if it's me you're shagging before she guilt-trips me into going to the Burrow despite my reservations, just like she guilt-tripped you into letting her do the laundry," Hermione informed him.

Charlie sighed. "Probably true," he admitted. "But if you don't come down and say hello, and then she gets wind of how long you've been here, she might be offended."

Hermione realized with a jolt that he was right, and she got the feeling it would be better to face Molly today, even if it did rouse the woman's suspicious nature, than it would to deal with how cold she'd be later if Hermione hid from her.

"Fine," she muttered. "You go first. If we arrive together she'll know we're shagging."

"She might not try to make you leave if she knows we're shagging," Charlie suggested.

Hermione couldn't help the snort that escaped her.

"If she thinks you and I have ever been alone in the same room together, fully clothed, she'll have kittens, Charlie," Hermione told him. "Are Remus and Tonks still here?"

"I don't know," Charlie shrugged. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday," Hermione supplied.

"Uh… Wednesdays Tonks usually has a training day at the Auror office and I think Remus is off duty. He might've gotten himself a job in his off hours, though. He mentioned looking at one over the weekend."

"So, we might be alone in the house with your mother," Hermione said.

"No need to say it like you're facing off against a hundred angry Death Eaters, Granger," Charlie chuckled.

"I'd have better odds against them than against your mother if she decides she's unhappy about just which one of her sons I'm shagging," Hermione muttered darkly.

Charlie snorted.

"Why would she care?" he wanted to know. "She'll be happy to think I might settle down, I'd reckon. With Bill's wedding on the horizon, she's taken to nagging me that it's high time I though about a wife and kids, myself."

"Well, don't look at me," Hermione held up her hands defensively. "I still have a year before I graduate Hogwarts."

Charlie wrinkled his nose at the reminder.

"I feel old when you say shit like that," he informed her. "Blimey, maybe you should go with Mum to the Burrow and hang-out with my kid-siblings, koroleva. I've got seven years on you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm of legal age, Charlie. That's the only number that matters."

"What? You reckon you wouldn't care if I was even older?" he scoffed.

Hermione shrugged. "I might," she said. "If you were too old to get it up."

Charlie's eyes widened, and his ears turned red at her boldness before he cracked a wide grin and began to laugh.

"Just using me for a quick shag, then?" he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, not bothering to answer.

"Just go and face off with your mother before she comes looking, would you?" Hermione asked, frowning at him once more.

"What are you going to do?"

"Probably pack my things, knowing she'll guilt me into leaving."

"You probably should go," Charlie said.

"You just say that so you won't have to share the bed, anymore," Hermione rolled her eyes, picking up one of the books from her trunk and supposing she should spend the day doing her assigned homework reading, even if there was some doubt that she'd be returning to Hogwarts in September.

Charlie shook his head, raising his eyebrows and finishing getting dressed as Hermione opened the book and began to wander down the stairs, intent on thinking up a lie about needing a cup of tea or wanting some lunch. She needed an excuse as to her presence in the kitchen, and she was hungry, but she didn't fancy having Molly think she'd been shagging Charlie.

She heard voices coming from the kitchen before she reached it and Hermione smiled a little more to herself when she realized Remus was home and already in there chatting to Molly. Good. That would help to distract her.

"What are you talking about, Molly?" Remus was saying. "Charlie hasn't got a girl here."

He sounded amused, like the idea was a joke, but Hermione suspected he knew exactly which girl was in Charlie's bed and he was covering for her.

"There are girl's things in his hamper, Remus," Molly said.

"Probably Dora's," Remus said, and Hermione caught the way he shrugged his shoulders as Hermione strolled into the kitchen with her nose in a book. "You know how she is about leaving things all over the floor in the bathroom. Maybe Charlie scooped them up with his things by accident."

Remus Lupin, Hermione realized with an amused jolt, was a Marauder through and through. That much was clear in just the ability he had to lie to figures of authority whilst looking them dead in the eye and seeming entirely nonchalant as he did so. He didn't twitch or fidget, as Ron tended to. He didn't go on the offensive as Harry was prone to doing. He simply gave a little smile as though Molly was making mountains out of molehills over something entirely unimportant and Hermione didn't think she could've been more grateful.

What was more, when he spotted her – and Hermione could tell in a heartbeat that he knew exactly where she'd spent the night and what she'd been doing with Charlie upstairs, just now – he didn't greet her with a bid of good morning or any surprise to see her for the first time that day. No, Remus covered for her all the more by keeping from drawing attention to her entrance into the kitchen, and by grinning at Molly a little when the woman huffed like she wasn't sure she should believe Remus's suggestion about the women's clothes in Charlie's hamper.

"Morning, Remus," Charlie greeted when he strode into the kitchen behind her and Molly turned in his direction, noticing Hermione for the first time as she carefully trailed across the kitchen toward the kitchen without lifting her eyes from her book and giving no indication that she knew Molly was there.

"Morning, Charlie," Remus greeted. "Feeling better this morning?"

"Better?" Molly asked. "What was wrong with you, Charlie, dear?"

"Got a bit banged up at work yesterday, Mum," Charlie waved her off. "Nothing to worry about. Morning, Hermione."

Hermione looked over, raising her eyebrows at him and feigning that she'd been entirely enthralled by her book.

"Oh," she said. "Good morning, Charlie. Still wounded, or have you recovered?"

Charlie grinned at her.

"I'm alright, thanks to your patch up job."

"Hermione?" Molly asked, before looking in her direction and seeming to spot her for the first time.

Hermione suspected the woman was so utterly perplexed by the mystery of the clothes in Charlie's hamper that she'd stopped paying attention to her surroundings.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said, pasting on her widest smile and looking at the portly witch with happiness.

Actually, she didn't have to feign happiness to see the woman. After all, she was something of a second mother to Hermione, so when she actually laid eyes on her, Hermione felt warmth well up inside of her and she forgot some of her worries about the woman realizing Hermione was shagging Molly's son.

"Hermione, dear? When did you get here? Oh, look at you, darling. You're half-starved. Haven't your parents been taking good enough care of you these holidays? Merlin, girl, you're wasting away. Come here," Molly nattered, clucking her tongue as she looked her over critically, her eyes softening with affection before she crossed the kitchen and drew Hermione into a warm embrace.

Hermione bit her lip when it wobbled, the urge to cry welling up within her as she was engulfed in a mother's warm hug. If she clung to Molly a little longer than she ordinarily might've, Molly didn't seem to mind, and Hermione felt the woman smooth soothing circles over her back.

"Oh, but when did you get here, dear? We'll have something to eat, won't we? Charlie's due for some breakfast and you're just skin and bone, love. You'll have something," Molly said firmly when she pulled back, holding Hermione at arm's length for a moment and smiling affectionately into her face.

"I…" Hermione's voice wobbled just a bit and she gave Molly a watery smiled. "I wouldn't mind a snack. I'll put the kettle on, shall I?"

She did so, turning away before Molly could examine her too closely and see the dark circles under her eyes or notice the shadows in her brown eyes.

"Why not, love?" Molly said happily. "Charlie, be a dear and feed that dog before he tries to snatch the bacon from me, would you? Remus, dear? Are you hungry? You're skin and bones too. Honestly, I just don't know how you haven't all wasted away to nothing."

Hermione smiled a little to herself, catching's Remus's eye as she used her wand to bring the kettle to a boil before filling the teapot with tea leaves and water, and carrying it over to the table. She levitated four cups in her wake, sitting down beside Remus and opposite Charlie.

"Tea, Charlie?" Hermione asked of her lover quietly, offering him a cup.

"Love some," he nodded, tracing his eyes over her in a way that kind of made her nervous and Hermione looked away.

Meeting Remus's eyes again as Molly fussed by the stove, cooking them all a hearty breakfast, Hermione shot the werewolf an expression of gratitude for his quick thinking and his lies.

"Studying hard, Hermione?" Remus asked conversationally.

"I have summer homework," Hermione confessed. "Though I'm not certain I should bother doing it. We might not return to Hogwarts."

"I beg your pardon?" Molly asked, turning to look at her.

Hermione looked over, raising her eyebrows.

"I said I might not return to Hogwarts, Mrs Weasley," Hermione answered, repeating herself. "Being best friends with Harry hasn't exactly made it safe for me to do so, especially being that I'm also muggleborn. We've all seen the papers. Hogwarts won't be safe for Harry. Snape's got it in his grip and the Death Eaters will pounce on him and drag him to You-Know-Who. Their mandate that everyone of school-age must attend tells us that much. If Harry goes to Hogwarts this year, he'll be snatched away. And if Ron or I go without him, we'll be dragged off and tortured until we give Harry up, I expect."

Molly looked rather shocked to hear her say it and Hermione recalled that even last year Molly hadn't wanted Ginny and Ron to return to school, fearing for their safety.

"You'll be in danger if you don't go, Hermione," Remus said seriously, frowning. "The teachers can protect you at Hogwarts."

Hermione shook her head. "Not now that they've made Snape Headmaster. Not after what he did to Professor Dumbledore."

"If you stay away, you'll be persecuted," Remus argued.

"I'm already being persecuted," Hermione said. "I'm muggle-born, Remus. I've already received my summons from the Ministry demanding I go forth and register to myself as a muggleborn. They asked me to bring proof of purchase for my wand to avoid being accused of having stolen it. I can hardly set foot in Hogwarts without registering and I'm not about to go anywhere near a sector of the Ministry being run by Umbridge. Not after I set Grawp on her before letting the Centaurs carry her off. If she doesn't immediately hand me over to the Death Eaters as their plaything, she'll give me straight to the Dementors and command them to suck out my soul."

Remus went pale at her words and Hermione shrugged helplessly at him, knowing he'd know entirely too well about the consequences of becoming registered for something with the Ministry for Magic. After all, he was on the werewolf Registry. She'd bet they'd been trying to reach him by owl, too, intent on questioning him. Hermione wondered how he and Tonks would be getting around having Tonks be an Auror when her husband was, technically, a fugitive.

It occurred to Hermione almost instantly just why it was that though they'd tied the knot, there hadn't been a fancy ceremony, and why she hadn't been invited to the wedding. They hadn't wanted anyone to know because if they knew, Tonks would be brought under scrutiny for her husband's activities and whereabouts.

"I suppose we'll all have to discuss it, Hermione dear. Here, have some breakfast, won't you?" Molly said, looking pensive as she brought over the hastily cooked food and served the three of them, not taking any for herself.

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said politely.

"Thanks, Mum. Smells good," Charlie told the woman, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze.

"What were you saying about an accident at work, Charlie?" Molly asked, raising her eyebrows and tracing her eyes over her son.

"It was nothing, Mum. One of my lizards got a bit stroppy with me, but I'm fine. Hermione here patched me up alright when I got home," Charlie nodded his head at her and Hermione's cheeks turned pink.

"Oh, thank you, dear," Molly said. "How badly were you injured, Charles? Burns, bites, or cuts?"

Hermione pressed her lips together when Charlie paled a little at having his mother use his full name.

"Uh… all three, Mum," Charlie admitted.

"Oh, I do wish you'd think about a less dangerous profession, darling," Molly sighed. "It's bad enough in these times worrying for everyone's safety. I don't need the added stress of knowing you might be eaten on any given day."

"My lizards aren't going to eat me, Mum," Charlie rolled his eyes. "I'm too gamy."

"Too stringy, more like," Molly sniffed. "Honestly, I don't know why you won't just take your meals at the Burrow. I'm going to have to speak to your father. Look at the state of you. All of you. The three of you look half-starved. We'll just have to push forward our return here. Probably just as well, anyway. The place is a pig-sty."

Hermione watched the way Molly scowled around the kitchen for a moment before her eyes widened when she noticed that the kitchen was actually quite clean, and had been refurbished.

"I… Merlin's beard, what happened in here?" Molly exclaimed.

"Hermione got bored yesterday," Remus grinned, reaching over and clapping Hermione on the shoulder.

"You did all this?" Molly asked, turning to look at Hermione.

"I thought it was high time we made this place look like we actually all live here, don't you?" Hermione asked, smiling rather fondly around at the walls she'd re-papered.

"How long have you been here that you managed all this, dear?" Molly asked. "Why didn't you come to the Burrow? I thought you were expecting to spend a while longer with your folks before coming to us?"

"Mum," Charlie began, looking awkward when Hermione's lower lip trembled. "Leave her be, yeah? Hermione's had a rough go of it so far these holidays."

Molly frowned, looking over at Charlie in confusion before looking back at Hermione. Remus took pity on the confused witch, squeezing Hermione's hand reassuringly when she opened her mouth to try and explain, but only managed a squeak.

"Oh, no," Molly said, softly. "What's happened, love?"

"To protect her parents, knowing they might be targeted because of her association with Harry, Hermione has… modified their memories," Remus explained to Molly quietly. "She's made them forget ever having her, and sent them off to live abroad, beyond the reach of the Death Eaters."

Molly's gasp was loud in the quiet room, and Hermione felt more tears overflow from her eyes despite having squeezed them closed.

"Oh, dear. To have erased so much of their lives…. Almost eighteen years of…" Molly shook her head and Hermione could feel the judgement in her silence.

To Molly, such a betrayal from a child was unfathomable and unforgivable, Hermione was sure. To have made her parents forget her existence, Hermione had wiped large portions of their memories. It had taken a very long time, in fact. Being an only child, and being that her parents had struggled to conceive her and been overjoy to have her, it hadn't been easy to dislodge their recollection of her existence. It had almost broken her spirit to replace their memories of her with happy ones of a life spent together, carefully crafting certain painful memories that would make her mother and father think they'd never succeeded at conceiving a child of their own and that they'd instead embraced their lives as a childless couple.

"How could you…?" Molly began in a quiet voice that seemed at once confused and accusatory, and Hermione couldn't bear it. Rising from the table, she turned away, dashing out of the room before she could break down in front of all of them, all over again.

Tears ran down her cheeks, and Hermione sobbed and she fled the kitchen, not hearing Charlie scold his mother, or Remus telling Molly that she'd been insensitive before the werewolf followed after her.