This occured this afternoon

After spending a couple of days at Hermione's flat, Charlie had definitely decided that she worked too hard and didn't play enough.

He pottered around the kitchen, making a cup of tea after having finished his early shift. Charlie knew she was being polite, and entertaining him, but she always looked so tired when she arrived home. He decided that a nice afternoon trip would make a change.

He looked at the fridge where she had put a list of contact details and he decided to pitch up at her work. Charlie looked up at the clock and grinned. Just in time for lunch.


He Apparated to Diagon Alley and then looked at the bit of paper where he had scribbled down the address. He looked round trying to find his bearings and started to walk purposefully down the street. He strolled into the reception and saw the witch behind the desk. Charlie smiled sweetly at her and asked, "Hi, I know this is a bit out of the ordinary, but would I be able to pop up and see Miss Granger? She's not expecting me but I wanted to surprise her."

The witch frowned slightly. "Well, this is certainly uncalled for. I just can't let all and sundry wonder around the building. There is very sensitive material being worked on here."

Charlie took a deep breath and continued smiling. "I know she's working under the supervision of Dr. Hamlin, and he has done some work in my field of work." He wheedled gently. "Please. It'll only be for five minutes. I promise I won't touch anything."

The witch scribbled on a memo and let it shoot up the stairs behind her. "Take a seat and I will see if Dr Hamlin will let you up." Charlie beamed at her.

"You're an angel, darling."

The memo flew around the spiral staircase at dizzying speed, and flew down several corridors full of metal doors and linoleum floors. When it had reached the topmost floor of the building, where Dr. Hamlin's private laboratory was located, it screeched to a stop and flew through the doors. It made a beeline for Dr. Hamlin's white, tufted head, zipping around him in circles and prodding him with its pointy edge.

"Who on earth could be disturbing us right now?" Dr. Hamlin grumbled, and he glared in Hermione's direction as if he knew it was her fault. Opening the memo, and reading it, Dr. Hamlin rolled his eyes, and tossed it to his assistant. "Let him up, I suppose. We could use some company."

The thick rubber gloves she was wearing did not help in catching the memo very easily, but Hermione managed to fumble and grab hold, and she read it quickly. A young man was here to see Dr. Hamlin. He was interested in his work. He knew Miss Granger. This last point immediately made it clear who had arrived at the lab, and Hermione tensed. Charlie was the last person she wanted to see while garbed in a white lab coat and thick plastic goggles, her hands in gloves and her bushy hair securely fastened in a bun on her head. However, from the way Dr. Hamlin was watching her expectantly, she knew it was her job to write back down to the receptionist that Charlie was more than welcome to disturb the monotony of the lab work. She scribbled Yes onto the memo, and sent it flying back down the stairs. Her shoulders were tightened in anticipation of Charlie's arrival.

The reply came speeding down and nearly knocked over the cup of tea that the receptionist had balanced on the side. She flicked it open and glanced up at Charlie, raising an eyebrow. She pursed her lips and said, in a faintly disapproving tone, "It seems that you're allowed to go up." She nodded towards the lift and said "Top floor. You can't miss Dr Hamlin's lab."

With an audible sniff, she returned to her filing. Charlie smiled and said "Thanks sweetheart." He turned and headed for the lift and pressed the button for the top floor. With a jolt, that caused his stomach to turn over, it moved quickly up the building. With a soft ping, the doors opened and Charlie stepped a little gingerly out. He looked up and down the corridor with interest and then saw a door which was partly open. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and then ambled over. He knocked softly on the door and stuck his head round the door.

Charlie nodded "Afternoon, petal. Dr Hamlin." He pushed the door open and came in.

Hermione's cheeks were scorching. He had not just called her "petal" in front of her boss! Except, actually, it seemed he had; Dr. Hamlin had just raised an eyebrow in her direction, and was tottering over to Charlie with an accusatory stare.

"So, tell me, young man--what is it exactly that you wish to see me and Miss Granger about? Sally said you have done some work in my field?"

Hermione blushed. This was so embarrassing. Charlie had lied, obviously, and he was about to make a fool of himself, and she was going to get in trouble for having friends wander in at all hours--

But Charlie opened his mouth to speak, and, surprisingly, out came a perfectly logical stream of words related to Dr. Hamlin's research on the genetic difference between Muggle and wizarding varieties of the same species, such as cats and Kneazles and dogs and Crups.

Hermione stared, flabbergasted. As she watched Charlie talk, her gaze seemed to attract his, and his eyes flickered in her direction a few times as he spoke. Hermione was increasingly aware of what a sight she must look, in her laboratory get-up, and felt absolutely mortified. If she could have Disapparated and spared herself this humiliation, she would have. As it was, however, she was stuck.

Charlie glanced over at Hermione and wondered why she was blushing such an attractive shade of pink. He continued talking to Dr Hamlin. "Of course, I'm mainly interested in your studies with dragons and how they seem to be a purely magical species, considering the close genetic links with animal species between the magical and Muggle worlds? Have you done any more research since your last paper was published on it?"

Dr Hamlin looked a little flustered as Charlie definitely didn't look like the academic type and then beamed. "I didn't realise my work was so widely read."

Charlie wrinkled his nose. "It's certainly a hot debate at the moment at the reserve in Romania. Mainly due to the population falling, we want to see if there's some way we can cross breed with Muggle animals."

He gave Dr Hamlin his most charming smile. "But I mainly came here today to see if I can borrow your assistant for the afternoon. I think she's been working too hard and it's the perfect afternoon to go to the zoo. Do you mind if I whisk her away?"

Hermione almost fell over. The zoo? During work hours? Was he completely mad?

"Dr. Hamlin, I'm so sorry--" she rushed to say, hurrying over. Where did Charlie even begin to imagine he could interrupt her at work?

"Nonsense!" the elderly man chirped. "What a brilliant idea! Observing live specimens might be just the information we need!" He gave Charlie a wide, exhilarated smile, and then turned to Hermione, clapping his hands.

"Take your notepad, and be sure to write down anything at all that may prove useful! Any data based on animals may be applicable to humans as well! Be vigilant!"

Hermione was frozen in shock for a moment, but then turned and shuffled away, pulling off her lab coat, goggles and gloves and hanging them up neatly. Underneath all the sanitized, protective plastic she was wearing a crimson jumper and a pair of dark blue jeans.

"All right," she said, scooping up a pad and paper. "Shall we?"

And they headed down the stairs, leaving Dr. Hamlin behind.

Charlie slung his arm round her shoulders and grinned down at her. "You work too hard. Figured you need a break and I haven't been to the zoo in ages" They reached the bottom of the stairs and Charlie waved at Sally, who ducked her head and pretended not to see. They stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and he turned his face up to the sun.

He looked down at her and asked her "What's the matter? You haven't said a word since we left."

"I just can't believe you barged in on me at work like that!" Hermione cried, aghast. "You are so, so lucky Dr. Hamlin took to you like that! If he hadn't, I might very well have been fired." She scowled. "Can you always depend on that charming face of yours to save every situation, or what?"


Charlie looked slightly nonplussed and then stopped walking to look at her, confused. “Or maybe he also realises that you are working too hard and need a break. When was the last time you did something fun that wasn’t connected to your work or studying? And going for dinner doesn’t count.” He bit his lip as the jibe about his face hit him. “And if you’ve got something going for you, what’s wrong in using it? Sometimes it takes more than what you know to get you what you want.”

"I happen to be very interested in my work. Just because it's difficult doesn't mean it's not enjoyable!" Hermione replied tersely. She scowled at his last comment. Was that intended to hurt her? Because it had. It takes more than what you know to get what you want...what was that supposed to mean? That she should develop some of his charisma, because clearly her smarts wasn't enough?

She walked briskly into the tiny, cramped office in Diagon Alley that had a direct Floo link to the zoo, which was located some miles outside London in a wizarding park. The room smelled like sticky children and animals; they waited in line for tickets, and then fed them to the zebra-printed fireplace before whooshing away to the London Magical Zoo.


The arrival room was dark, and someone stepped on Hermione's foot, only worsening her bad temper. She couldn't bring herself to look at Charlie; her mind was churning with angry, bitter thoughts. She found herself muttering under her breath: "I'm sorry I'm not pretty enough to charm my way into everyone's good graces...not to mention their beds! But not all of us can get by with just a pretty face. Some of us actually have to do some work to get on in life."

Charlie stopped suddenly and grabbed her shoulder. “And what precisely do you mean by that? I have had to work bloody hard to get where I am and I’m good at my job. I have to be otherwise I’d get the push.” He folded his arms and glared at her. “Are you trying to misinterpret everything I say? The world’s not fair. You know that. Sometimes it’s not what you know but who you know that opens the doors. Or hasn’t being one of Harry’s best friends taught you that yet?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “And what is wrong with being nice to people? It makes a hell of a lot easier than rubbing them up the wrong way at every turn.” Charlie stopped, realising that Hermione could take that the wrong way and he had forgotten that she wasn’t Desi. Desi usually gave as good as she got and never usually hesitated at telling him exactly what she thought.

"I'd like to think I've gotten where I am thanks to being myself, not being Harry's best friend!" Hermione replied, hurt more than she'd like to admit. "And I'm sorry if I'm not as friendly and agreeable as you are, and that I rub people the wrong way at every turn, but that's just how I am!" She felt tears pricking at her eyes, and bit her lip to try and repress them. "I should've realized! I should have known you'd have all these...these expectations of me when you came to visit! You barely know me--you probably thought I was as happy-go-lucky and silly and childish as your brother! And I can hardly blame you; how could I have fooled myself into thinking we knew anything about each other? Or that we had anything in common?"

Charlie tried to interrupt but Hermione shook her head, and wiped one resilient tear out of the corner of her eye. "Well, do you want to know who I am, Charlie Weasley? I am bossy, and short-tempered, and I work too much, and I'm not pretty or friendly or...or in the know about kissing arse to work my way up even when it happens accidentally, and I am terrible at letting go and having fun. And I--I am sorry if that's disappointing to you, but that's who I am! I may seem to be that same Hermione Granger you met at your kitchen table almost ten years ago, but I have never been as good or sweet or together as she appeared, and I was a wreck underneath it all then, and I am still am now!"

Charlie threw his hands up in absolute frustration. "Have you ever tried asking for help? Or have you been too busy proving yourself to everyone that you've forgotten who you are? Or do you even know who you are? I know I'm not perfect. But I know what I'm good at and what I'm not and I'm happy with that. The question is, are you?" The pair of them had retreated to a corner to continue the argument in low tones. "What's wrong with admitting you need a break or you don't want to do something?"

"I know exactly who I am," Hermione hissed. "I don't need to prove myself to anyone--I have come to terms with all my faults, and I am living a life I am perfectly happy with! I don't need any sort of break or help, Charlie! My work and my lifestyle may be at complete odds with everything that makes you happy, but you're talking to the woman who used a Time Turner in third year because she wanted to take on more work! I like to learn! I don't mind being exhausted and overburdened and busy all the time if I'm learning something new! It may be difficult--it is difficult, sometimes it's near-on impossible, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't do it--and that's what you don't see! You can't expect me to do otherwise! You have these expectations for me that aren't for me--there for this Hermione you've invented in your head!"

Charlie continued, "Well, talking of expectations, I'm sure I haven't quite lived up to yours. I might not have done the conventional thing but I've done what's made me happy."

Hermione froze, and then burst into tears. The fact that Charlie might have been talking about his dragons completely slipped by her; the words took on a different meaning with Hermione. Her mind flew back to the night of George's funeral--the hot chocolate laced with brandy, the dizzy glow in the room, the way it had felt when Charlie kissed her, and then the embarrassment of pulling on her clothes the next morning and tiptoeing out the door. Then, the birthday card she had sent not long after, with some not-so-subtle questions enclosed. She'd received no reply until Christmas, when she found a plain greeting card waiting for her, identical in every way to Ron's, which she saw the next day. He hadn't done the conventional thing; if he had been any other Weasley--if he had been Ron--he would have woken when she did, and apologized, or at the very least explained, or somehow set things to rights--but it had all gone unspoken, unmentioned, even in this visit to her home. It lay under the surface, looming and omnipresent but never touched upon, and now Hermione knew why--"I've done what's made me happy."

"Fucking hell," Charlie muttered. He dug around in his pockets for his hanky and then proceeded to wipe Hermione's face. "What have I said this time?" he asked. He held it up to her nose and instructed her to blow. At the expression on Hermione's face, it hit him that she thought he was referring to the night they had spent together after George's funeral. His face drained of colour slightly as he remembered how she had disappeared whilst he was still asleep and then he hadn't heard anything from her until Christmas. He never did make contact because he didn't want to push her into anything she didn't want and clearly even that was the wrong thing to do.

He took a deep breath and said "Clearly we're talking about two different things as I usually try not to make people cry. What did you think I was talking about?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione sniffled, taking the hanky and dabbing at her eyes, before blowing her nose loudly. "We're talking about us." At the funny expression on Charlie's face, Hermione blanched even further, and added, tentatively, "Right?" When he still didn't respond, only shuffled his feet as though he would have liked to be anywhere else at that moment, Hermione let herself fall back against the corner wall, and dropped her head. "Oh, Hermione, you stupid, stupid little girl," she muttered to herself, a hand sneaking up to cover her eyes. "Now what have you done?"

With a strangled sob, Hermione pushed past Charlie and the crowds of parents and children, and out of the arrival building into the zoo. She was too upset to even notice the magical paradise she'd entered, replete with a baby dragon snorting fire out of its nostrils, and a pack of phoenixes trotting about like tamed peacocks. She headed straight for the nearest bench, and collapsed onto it. Her tears had stopped; now she just felt stupid and awkward and all sorts of terrible things she'd thought she'd left behind with her adolescence. She barely even noticed when a particularly friendly Puffskein, who appeared to have escaped from his nearby exhibit, crawled into her lap.

Charlie tentatively came up to her and sat next to Hermione on the bench. He didn't say a word until he could see that Hermione had sort of pulled herself together. He reached out to pick up the Puffskein in order to do something with his hands. Hermione really confused him. Most of the girls he was friends with, he would have given them a hug right about now, but with Hermione, it was different. She was just so self contained and he didn't know how to deal with that.

Finally when she looked up, he said softly, "I didn't even know there was an us. You left without saying a word and then I didn't hear from you until I got a particularly cool Christmas card. I wasn't exactly going to push after that, was I? I'm not a complete bastard."

"There could never be an us," Hermione replied softly. "You're too cool for me, Charlie." She smiled half-heartedly. "I just--I left because I felt embarrassed, and silly. A stupid girl who made a mistake and imposed on someone she barely knew, in the most horrendous way possible. But even when I tried to forget, I--I just couldn't. You were...well, this is going to sound ridiculous. But I haven't--I haven't had sex since that night. Not even with Ron." She paused. "Especially not with Ron. So, despite that fact that we're almost complete strangers, you carry a lot of weight for me. And that's hard to ignore, no matter how hard I try."

She shook her head, laughing at herself internally, and the smile widened ever-so-slightly. "But no, Charlie. You're not a complete bastard. You're the opposite, in fact. I mean--look at this!" She patted the Puffskein. "You came to take me to the zoo. You bought me flowers! You make me laugh. I think it's clear the fuck-up here is me."

Charlie leant back and let out a long breath. He patted his pockets in order to find his cigarettes and took one out. He gave Hermione a questioning look to see if she minded and then lit it. He took a drag as he thought about what she just said. Finally he said, “Bloody hell. I really did take advantage of you, didn’t I?”

He took another drag and the Puffskein jumped down from his lap and scampered off. “Cool? I’m not cool. I just do my own thing.” Charlie looked down at his hands and inspected the marks on the back of them. “I dunno. Do you want to try to get to know each other and see where it goes? Or I can just stay somewhere else if I’m making life difficult.”

"Don't say that," Hermione replied at once. "Nobody takes advantage of me. I don't feel like you did, so you shouldn't either. I don't regret it, really." She sounded somewhat doubtful, but she shook her head firmly. "And no, you're not making life difficult. Complicated, certainly, but then--life always is, isn't it? But I don't want you to leave. I would like to get to know you, Charlie." She laughed. "You're everything I'm not--but I like that, I think." She smiled broadly for the first time that afternoon, and leaned back against the bench, letting herself relax at last.

Charlie continued to drag on his cigarette and then looked over at Hermione. He gave her a lopsided smile and said dryly, "Well life would certainly be boring if we were all the same." Taking a final drag, he held his hand out and asked "Start over?"

Hermione took his hand. "Start over," she agreed. She squeezed his hand and shook it, and then held it in mid-air for a moment as she deliberated; then, quickly, she leaned over and planted an embarrassed kiss on his cheek.

Charlie stubbed out his cigarette and then helped Hermione up. He gave her a small smile and said, "We're here now. Let's have a bit of a gander? Have you been?"

"Never," Hermione admitted. "I wasn't much interested in zoos by the time I got my Hogwarts letters, and it never occurred to me to come here when I got older. Defeating the Dark Lord really eats up a lot of your time," she joked, though there was a sadness in her eyes that belied the light heartedness. Hermione would never truly be able to laugh about Voldemort and the war.

Charlie looked at her a little gobsmacked and then laughed. "I was just going to ask how can you not be interested in going to the zoo but then your school life was a tad more action filled than mine."

He tried to make a joke of the war because it was either that or crying and he felt a little guilty for spending so much time away from the fighting.

"Only slightly," Hermione replied. She glanced at Charlie enviously. That was really part of his appeal, she'd come to realize--his detachment from the war, and Voldemort, and the fighting and terror. Of course he'd been affected by the war--everyone had--but he had been apart from it long enough to have retained the innocent joy in the world and his surroundings lost by so many of the veterans. Hermione was perhaps the prime example of the worst-affected by the war; as Harry's closest friend, she'd been directly involved in fighting Voldemort since she even discovered he existed. She'd lost her childhood to the war at the tender age of twelve. It was easy to see why she was drawn to Charlie, like a moth to the light, eager for some of the goodness he carried with him always.

Charlie slung his arm round her shoulders and then said “Well I’ll have to give you the grand tour. Starting of course with the dragons.” They walked over to the enclose where the dragons were and watched as the sleepy looking Hebridean Black watched her baby totter out into the open. He said softly in her ear, “Ben Macfusty is helping to look after this pair. He’s one of the best. His family have been running the reserve up in the Hebrides for years. They were trying to start a breeding programme here, so he’s come down to help with the handling.” The baby dragon tottered over to the fence and Charlie squatted down and held out his hand for it to smell. It inspected it and then bit Charlie’s hand. Charlie rubbed it under the chin and then stood up, looking at his watch. He grinned down at Hermione. “Fancy meeting Ben? He should be coming off shift right about now.”

"Yes," Hermione replied simply, nodding. It was really breathtaking, the way his eyes lit up when he was around dragons. She'd never seen that expression on his face before--one of pure rhapsodic happiness. She envied him slightly.

Charlie hung over the fence to see if he could spot the handlers changing over and then he saw Ben, walking out the hut at the back of the enclosure, wiping his hands on his jeans. Charlie raised his fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle and Ben looked up. He gave a wave and jogged over to where they were standing.

“Charlie boy. Long time no see. Thought you’d never leave Romania.” Charlie laughed and said “I haven’t. I’m just freelancing down in Wales whilst they get over the pox.” Ben clambered over the fence to stand next to them and nodded hello to Hermione. “And who’s this?”

Charlie blushed a little and then said, “This is Hermione. She’s a friend of mine.” Ben held out his hand to shake and said, “It’s lovely to meet you.@

"You as well," Hermione murmured, noticing with some interest that Charlie's ears went red just like Ron's when he was embarrassed.

Charlie asked, “Fancy a drink? Then I can cross examine you about the breeding programme you have here. We’re not being terribly successful out in Romania with keeping the stock up and any advice would be gratefully accepted.”

Hermione followed the two men into the staff lounge, which was quite cozy, and had a bar along one end with a rather interestingly-scarred barkeep behind the counter. Hermione ordered a butterbeer, and sat in the booth listening to the two men talk for almost an hour. She'd never seen Charlie so illuminated before. He looked incredibly alive. Everything he had to say was knowledgeable and clever; intelligence had always been Hermione's secret turn-on, and she found herself staring at him across the table with moony eyes, hanging off every word he said. This was a side of Charlie she never got to see, and it surprised her.

With a sudden yawn, Ben looked at his watch. "Sorry, but we've been up at all hours recently and I need some sleep." Charlie looked at his watch as well and realised that they had been there for nearly an hour. "Of course, I'll drop in and see you next week." Ben pushed his hair out of his eyes and stood up. "See you later Charlie boy," and, with a nod to Hermione "and you too. Hope we haven't bored you too much." With a wave, he disappeared through a door marked "Private. Staff only".

Charlie leaned back and said a little sheepishly "Sorry about that . I didn't notice the time. Where do you want to go to next?"

"That's quite all right. It was fascinating listening to you talk," Hermione admitted. "All I know about dragons are these basic generalizations--common misconceptions, really--and I don't think I ever realized there was so much more..."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and she felt a flutter in her stomach that annoyed her at once. Just because the air between them had been cleared did not mean she was entitled to moon over him. The point was to put the past behind them--forget their great mistake. Otherwise, it would weigh them and their friendship down eternally. Besides, you're dating Ron, Hermione reminded herself, even though she hadn't seen Ron anywhere besides the Quidditch magazines in days.

"Actually, I'm a little tired," Hermione confessed, not wanting to prolong this outing with its confusing effects. "Do you mind if we just head back to the flat?"

Charlie felt a little bad and then shook his head. "Absolutely not. We can go back to yours and you can put your feet up whilst I make dinner. Or we can get a curry."

"All right. Curry sounds lovely right now," Hermione said, and she stuck her hands in her pockets with finality.

They stood up and strolled out out into the late afternoon sunshine. Charlie looked down at her and asked "Are you all right?" He was slightly anxious as she had gone all quiet on him and they were still finding out exactly what this new relationship was.

She nodded. "I'm all right," she said, quietly. He looked down at her, and she looked up, and there was no need for words just then: everything went unspoken but still communicated as clearly as if they had said the words aloud. There was a little bit of confusion, and a fair amount of attraction, and some bitterness still lingering from the spat earlier, but most of all there was a strong feeling of them having resigned themselves to this silence, rather than an outpouring of words that might lead them down a path they were afraid to take; there was a force pulling them towards a distant possibility of something but it was a force they both knew was best to ignore, no matter how tempting it may be, and so they had turned their backs on it, and were wholly aware of the decision being made. He smiled wryly, and she sighed and smiled back, and they said nothing and everything all at once.


Summary: Charlie and Hermione go to the zoo. But everything is not as happy-go-lucky as it may seem.