From the moment Hermione arrived at the Burrow, Ron had been on her case about leaving her eighth year and joining him and Harry at the Ministry. This was their first Christmas since everything had ended, and their first without so many people they loved, including his own brother.

It was ridiculous and infuriating that he couldn’t leave it alone. She'd never be able to tell him she didn’t actually want to work at the Ministry. The thought of throwing herself into laws and paperwork left her feeling hollow. Even now, flashes of that night at Malfoy Manor made her flinch, and she still woke from dreams where the locket's weight pressed against her chest, crushing her breath. Something inside her still felt scraped raw, as if the war had burned her down to the bone. The Ministry's predictability, all its forms and files, felt like a cage closing in. She couldn't stand the idea of tucking the memory of the people they'd lost behind a desk, or pretending she was whole just because everyone else wanted her to be. She craved something real, something that might let her heal and rediscover herself, not just follow the path everyone expected.

‘…not like you actually need to do your exams!’

She glared at Ron, then spun on her heel and stomped back into the kitchen, jaw tight and cheeks hot.

‘You alright?’

She turned her head to find Charlie, broader and more grizzled than the last time she’d seen him. That was at Fred’s memorial. Now he had a faint burn mark above his left eyebrow. It didn't make him any less handsome.

‘Yeah, fine.’ She turned back to the cupboard.

‘I don’t like the way he talks to you.’ His voice was closer.

‘I’m used to it.’ She mumbled, unable to turn around as she felt his warmth close to her back. The subtle smell of burnt leather and woodsmoke flowed over her. Something stirred in her belly, and she froze.

‘You deserve so much better.’ His voice was low, brushing past her ear.

Overwhelmed by his presence, she quickly took a mug from the cupboard and started making tea. His large, burn-scarred hand covered the mug's rim.

‘Fuck the tea, Min. Come to the village. A friend of mine is down the pub.’ He rumbled. She lifted her gaze to his; it bored into her. He flashed a smile. ‘Let’s get out of this mad house for a bit.’

She had to admit, it sounded tempting. She glanced toward the living room. He chuckled.

‘I know a back way, come on.’ He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. She puffed out a breath and took his hand.

He pulled her past the pantry and out the small door to the garden shed. He dropped her hand, and she felt its loss in her gut.

They rounded the house and started down the lane that led to the village. The sun was sinking, casting the frosty ground in an eerie glow. A warming charm washed over her, and she looked over at Charlie, who was pocketing his wand. He slowed his step for her so she could walk comfortably.

‘Thanks.’ She murmured.

Ron never thought of her that way. Sometimes she felt almost invisible to him, a quiet ache growing where affection should have been. She glanced over her shoulder at the ramshackle house she loved, longing for someone to see her, really see her, and wondering if he would even notice she was gone.

‘We can go back if you want,’ Charlie offered gently, ‘But I could really use a pint.’

She shook her head and faced forward. ‘No, let’s go.’

-

The cosy pub, The Winking Lantern, was packed with people trying to escape the cold. Charlie pulled her in close to his side. She stiffened at the contact of his solid, warm body against hers. He felt like a wall of muscle and smelled divine. Her heart thudded against her ribs. He’s your boyfriend’s brother, the annoying voice in her head said. She ignored it. He wove expertly through the throng and wrangled two seats near the woodstove in the corner.

‘Gin and tonic, right?’ He asked. She nodded, completely surprised he remembered, and watched him weave back to the bar.

She held her red-tipped fingers up to the fire's heat. He returned, handed her a drink, and took the other seat. His knees bumped hers. Even though he was a tad shorter than Ron, he still towered over her. Suddenly, she didn't feel cold anymore.

‘Where’s your friend?’ She said, clearing her throat and taking a sip. It was exactly how she liked it.

Charlie cast his gaze around and shrugged. ‘No idea.’ He fixed her with a burning look that felt like it reached the roots of her hair. ‘But I don’t mind if it’s just us.’

She watched him drink from his pint of dark beer, his throat working as he swallowed. He had a rugged handsomeness that eclipsed Ron’s gangly features. She had never actually been alone with Charlie for long. They had always been friendly, sharing jokes, and his work was endlessly fascinating. But his family was always around. She was suddenly very aware of her body and tried to get comfortable in her seat.

‘So,’ he said, placing his glass down. ‘What do you want to do after you finish school?’

She jolted. Only one person had ever asked her that question: Professor McGonagall. She had the written reference to prove it. Not even Harry had asked, probably assuming she would follow them into the daily drudgery of improving the Wizarding World.

‘Oh, I haven’t really decided. Research, travel maybe…’ She trailed off, her face feeling hot.

‘Any specific topic?’ He leaned closer as he asked. She caught his unique scent again and leaned in on instinct.

She shook her head. ‘Nothing in particular.’

‘The reserve offers a grant that includes accommodation.’ He said too casually.

‘I didn’t take Creatures to this level.’

‘Doesn’t matter. The research is mostly legal and conservation-focused. You’re good at fighting for what’s right. Unless I’m confusing you with another Hermione Granger.’ He flashed that wonderful grin at her again, and she almost forgot what he’d said.

‘That does sound interesting.’

‘I’ll get you the info.’ He said, picking up his drink again.

‘Will you tell Ron?’ She hated how small she sounded.

He tilted his head. ‘Do you want me to?’

‘No. Please don’t.’ She said quickly.

‘Then I won’t.’

They fell into a long conversation about his work, only interrupted when he made trips to the bar. With every story he told, she laughed a bit more easily, the tension in her shoulders slowly unwinding. His jokes sounded even funnier, and she couldn’t help but catch his gaze, which lingered a little longer each time. His straight white teeth looked more inviting in the flickering light. She noticed his Weasley red hair was sun-bleached at the ends, a testament to time spent outdoors. It looked good on him. With each new shared memory and each easy touch, she felt the warmth bloom between them. She wondered how his stubble would feel on her cheek.

Even though the pub was full, it felt like they were the only two people in the whole world. He was so unlike Ron. He never sulked, at least not as much as she had noticed, and always had an easy smile or a cheeky retort. He never gave up during conversation with her; instead, he listened to her theories and asked her insightful questions. She felt as though she was even footing with him.

After Charlie brought over their sixth round, following a long argument over who would pay, their conversation fell into a lull. His keen blue eyes surveyed her.

‘Why do you go out with him?’

‘Ron?’

‘Unless you have another boyfriend.’

She snorted in a very unladylike way. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Then why?’

‘I don’t know. It’s what everyone expects.’ She chewed her lip, sighing. ‘I don’t want to lose him.’

‘Even if it’s at your expense?’

She looked down at the glass she nursed in her lap, unable to answer. His warm, calloused palm brushed her cheek, and he tucked her curls behind her ear. A shaky breath left her.

‘Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.’ His breath ghosted her face.

‘No. You’re right.’ She said softly. He settled his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Emotion worked up her throat, and her voice came out strangled. ‘How do I tell him without losing all of you?’

‘Sweetheart, you think we’d let you go? Not a chance.’ At her hiccup, his warmth enveloped her, and she was tucked against his broad chest, a hand stroking her hair.

She willed herself not to cry. It was just the drink. Or maybe the sudden, overwhelming feeling that she was with the wrong brother. She felt wretched. Still, she leaned into him, taking the comfort he offered.

‘Probably time for us to get back to bed, hm?’ He spoke softly, but his baritone vibrated through her. She nodded against his chest.

He helped her up and manoeuvred them out the door while keeping her close. The slap of the frigid night air sobered her, and she shivered. Charlie noticed, of course, tucking her into his side as they walked into the night.

-

Hermione spent the rest of the Christmas break walking a tightrope she couldn’t see. Ron was surly and snapping at her at every opportunity. Charlie sat with her, trying to draw laughter out of her, or brushed past her too close. She started to crave the warmth of his hand on her back.

It was wrong, and she knew it. The warmth she felt whenever Charlie was near kept pulling at her in ways she couldn’t name, reminding her how long it had been since Ron made her feel truly seen. Yet each stolen glance or casual touch filled her with shame, twisting in her chest beside her longing. On Boxing Day, when Harry and Ginny told everyone they were broken up, the walls closed in on her. Suddenly, leaving Ron felt impossible, too. The idea of two couples unravelling at once, especially when the Weasley family was already so fragile with grief, made her guilt all but unbearable. How could she hurt Ron? How could she risk hurting all of them, right now? She worried that ending things with Ron would only create more pain and chaos for everyone, and she dreaded causing more heartbreak for the people she cared about. She couldn't even tell anyone what she really wanted, and that left her feeling lonelier than ever. The look Charlie gave her across the room after the announcement was so full of understanding she wanted to cry. She wondered if he knew how tangled her feelings were, or if he struggled with the same impossible choice. The whole situation felt untenable, but she saw no way out. So she let herself be relieved to return to Hogwarts, where she could bury herself in books and try not to think about any of it, at least for a little while.

Something odd had happened this year. Without Harry or Ron, her study partners were, confusingly, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. They had both given her separate lengthy apologies in the first week of September, and the three of them, top of the class, had settled into a steady routine of furious studying.

She was glad for it now more than ever. Especially since neither of them had left school for the break, they didn’t want to speak about it at length. Instead, the three of them took up their spot in the new eighth-year common room on the night she returned and got stuck in.

‘I thought Weaslette was dating Potter.’ Draco said, seemingly out of nowhere. Hermione looked up from her revision to find them both looking over her shoulder. She turned to find Ginny on Neville’s lap on the sofa by the fire.

‘Oh, no, they split up.’ She said, turning back to her book. Theo snapped his shut, and Draco placed his down.

‘Now is when you tell us everything, Curls.’ Theo said.

She was instantly irritated. ‘I told you not to call me that.’

‘Granger,’ Draco drawled. ‘Please tell us.’

She huffed. If he was using please that must mean they were desperate to know. This was confirmed when she looked up again and found them staring at her, imploringly. She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t know. All they said was that it wasn’t working. I tried to ask Harry, but he only said he didn’t want to talk about it in front of Ron.’

They exchanged a conspiratorial glance and nodded.

‘You think?’ Draco said.

‘Oh, definitely.’ Theo said.

She blew out a breath through her nose. ‘What?’

‘Well, he’s gay, of course.’ Theo said definitively, opening his book again.

‘We don’t know that for sure.’ Draco said, a bit breathless.

She frowned. ‘Pardon?’

‘Oh, come on, Curls. It’s obvious. No straight wizard with a working cock would, one, not go for you for seven years and two, break up with the enchanting Ginevra.’ Theo winked at her.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She puffed. ‘Why do you two even care?’

Theo shrugged and glanced at Draco, whose cheeks were a deep shade of pink. ‘S’not me who does.’

She gaped at Draco, who had lifted his book high and leaned back. ‘You’re not serious? You spent years tormenting him.’

‘Just tell her, Dray.’ Theo said, pushing Draco’s book down.

Draco straightened and affected a haughty expression. ‘My mind healer says I was desperate to have his attention on me. I agreed and have therefore been able to acknowledge and speak my truth.’

She was flabbergasted. ‘Your… truth?’

‘Yes, Curls, his truth. That he’s cock over heels for our precious saviour.’ Theo supplied gleefully.

Draco groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face, mussing his usually perfect coif. ‘That I’m doomed, actually.’

‘Not entirely,’ she said slowly, remembering how curious Harry had been about Draco and Theo when she’d told him about their study group. Both their gazes snapped to her. ‘He did ask how you were doing over the break.’

‘He did?’ Draco breathed.

‘Yes, he actually told me to tell you to write and let him know if you ever needed anything. I told him about you maybe wanting to join the Auror program too.’

‘Why didn’t you say something?’ Draco said at the same time Theo exclaimed, ‘You have to tell us this stuff, Curls!’

She scowled. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind, actually. Like exams, for example.’

‘Quite right. As entertaining as this diversion has been, we must get to it!’ Theo said, and they thankfully returned to studying.

-

As exam time loomed, Ron's letters took on a noticeably different tone. They became less snappy and more supportive of her studies. She wondered if they could somehow make it work. He had asked her to join him in Hogsmeade the weekend before exams. Even though she could have used the time for final revisions, he convinced her a break would help her settle.

It was unseasonably warm for early June, so she left the castle in a hopeful mood. Ron waited for her by the gates, looking taller and more filled out than at Christmas. All those training hours seemed to be paying off.

He greeted her with a peck to the cheek and held her hand as they walked to the village. The ease and normalcy of it buoyed her. She was thankful she hadn’t been so rash at Christmas as she listened to him talk about everything he’d been up to. He seemed happy, thriving. That was all she had ever wanted for the both of them.

They made their way to the Three Broomsticks and found a table. He flagged down drinks and continued his recap of the past few months. ‘And so I was thinking we should get a place together. Maybe near Harry?’

Her stomach dropped. ‘I’ve, um, well, I applied for a research grant.’

‘Not the Ministry?’

She took a deep breath, readying herself to tell him everything. ‘No.’

‘Well, that can still work. We can get a place with a spare room. Make it into your study.’

‘Uh, well,’ She said, fidgeting with her glass. ‘It would be in Europe.’

‘Europe?’ he repeated, frowning. ‘Not here?’

‘No…’ She winced.

‘How long would it be for?’ He asked sharply.

‘I’m not sure. Initially it’s a year, but it could lead to other things.’ She said slowly.

‘Other things here?’

‘It could be anywhere. I don’t know.’ She said, watching the colour rise in his cheeks. ‘I need to do something I care about. We can still-’

‘And you can’t do that here?’ His voice rose.

‘Not really. Not without feeling like I haven’t earned it.’ She said, imploring him to understand.

He shoved away from the table, shouting now. ‘It’s like you don’t even want to be with me!’

She felt small and silly under his furious glare, acutely aware of the heads turning toward them. ‘That’s not it at all. I need to find my place in the world.’

‘And that’s away from me, is it?’ He spat at her.

‘Is there a problem over here, Weasel?’ Draco’s drawl came from behind her.

‘Stay out of this, you fucking Death Eater!’ Ron roared.

She was shaking now, unable to look up from the knot in the wood on the table in front of her. Warm arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a solid embrace. ‘Let’s get you out of here, Curls.’ Theo murmured in her ear.

Draco stepped in front of her as Ron kept raging. ‘IF YOU LEAVE WITH THEM, WE ARE DONE, HERMIONE. DONE.’

‘Then I guess we’re done.’ She said quietly, reaching for Draco’s hand as Theo guided her away. They left Ron standing rigid, fists clenched at his sides, and walked out of the pub.

She made it all the way back to the castle, holding tight to both of their hands, before she turned into Theo’s chest and broke.

-

Sweetheart,

I hope you are doing alright. I heard about Ron from Mum. Just know I’m thinking of you, and she said you’re always welcome at the Burrow.

I also heard you’ll be here come July. I know a really good tour guide.

Good luck with your exams. I know you’ll smash it.

Charlie x

-

Somehow, Hermione made it through exams. She could acknowledge that she usually did her best work under pressure when she was thoroughly prepared. And she was very prepared. She got through most of the exams on what felt like muscle memory.

Then they were done, and a very rowdy party was happening in the common room around her. She felt underwater, waiting to surface. Maybe she would feel better once she was in Romania. She could only hope.

Harry pulled her out of her reverie with a firm hug. ‘Hey, Mi, I wanted to come sooner, but I thought it was better to wait ‘til you were done with exams.’ He said into her hair as she hugged him back. ‘I’m sorry about Ron. He can be…’

‘Impossible?’ She huffed into his shoulder.

‘Unreasonable. He’s not speaking to me either after I defended you. And told him the other thing.’

Harry had come out to her on their Valentine’s friend date. After that, Theo told her he and Draco had been writing to each other almost daily. She squeezed him. ‘Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.’ They pulled back, and she caught sight of Draco hovering across the room, eyes fixed on Harry. ‘The real reason you're here is waiting for you.’

Harry smiled dopily and shook his head, floppy hair falling in his eyes. ‘No, Mi, you will always come first to me, alright? Don’t forget while you’re off finding yourself.’

She pulled him back into a crushing hug. ‘I love you.’ She choked.

‘Love you too, Mi.’ He said, squeezing her.

They separated, and Harry went to join Draco. She watched them for a moment, wondering how she’d never noticed it before, the way they snapped together like magnets. But it wasn’t long before Theo grabbed her hands and made her teach him the Macerena.

-

The Romanian mountain her international portkey took her to was mild, and as late afternoon approached, a storm rolled in. The reserve was set in an isolated forest in a valley. It had sweeping views of the mountains, where dragons flew. She was awestruck as she was shown to one of the log cabins for staff and researchers, keeping one eye peeled for a flash of red hair.

She was only mildly disappointed she hadn’t seen him as she settled into her new living space. The rain picked up outside, making the cabin feel cosy and contained. She unpacked her clothes, checked out her workspace in the back, set her books on the shelves, checked the kitchenette stock, and stoked the woodburner fire.

Then came a knock at her door. She went to open it, wondering who was mental enough to be out in the downpour. On the other side stood a soaking-wet Charlie. He didn’t wait for her to speak; he just pulled her into a crushing hug, soaking her too.

She laughed. ‘Charlie!’

‘Hello sunshine,’ he laughed too, his voice vibrating through her whole body. ‘I would have been there to greet you, but I was out with Beatrice.’

He set her down, cast drying charms on them both, then started making tea as if that were the most natural thing in the world.

‘Beatrice?’ She said, heart sinking. Of course he would have a girlfriend. He was gorgeous, warm and kind.

‘A very temperamental Swedish Shortsnout that had a thorn in her foot. She only lets me and Klaus near her, but he's in Oslo visiting his family, so it was all on me.’ He paused at her expression. ‘You’re not jealous of a dragon, are you, sweetheart? I think she’d win in a fight.’

A flush rose in her cheeks, and she looked away. ‘No.’

He set the mugs aside and cupped her cheeks in his broad hands. It was electric. ‘There’s no one else, sweetheart. Only you. You’re like the first ray of sun on a cloudy day.’

Her lips parted in surprise, and their eyes clashed. Before she could respond, he dipped his head and pressed his warm lips to hers. A floodgate of longing split open inside her. She wrapped her arms around him and opened for him.

He groaned into her mouth and lifted her against the hard plane of his body. Her legs went around his waist instinctively as he held her as if she weighed nothing at all. His strong hands kneaded the backs of her thighs as their tongues brushed over and over.

She turned molten at the evidence of his desire pressing against her core. One hand left her thigh to push into her hair. He pulled her head back to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

‘I should finish the tea.’ He panted on her skin.

‘Fuck the tea, Charlie. Take me to bed.’ She said, surprising even herself. But she was beyond caring; her body already craved his heat.

He didn’t need telling twice. He moved them into the small bedroom and set her against the pillows. They tore off their clothes and tossed them onto the rug. She drank in the expanse of chiselled chest and abs, peppered with darker hair. His muscles rippled with restraint as he hovered over her, his calloused palms smoothing up the soft skin of her waist as his eyes took her in hungrily.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve imagined you like this.’ He said roughly, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. She felt ready to combust as his mouth travelled lower to the swell of her breasts and his fingers brushed up the inside of her thigh.

He made an approving noise when his fingers found her slick and ready for him. Usually she'd feel self-conscious, but something about his steady touch put her completely at ease. She realised his fingers were much thicker than she was used to as he slid one inside. Crooking it at the same time as he took one of her nipples into his mouth. She whimpered and arched her back.

He worked her expertly, winding her tighter, panting against her skin as he laved at her breasts. ‘You’re so perfect.’

She moaned, and he moved up to kiss her.

‘You like that?’

‘Yes.’ She gasped.

‘Good,’ he murmured on her lips, his thumb pressing against her clit as his fingers pumped into her. Head thrown back, she teetered on the edge, aroused by the praise. Eyes sparking, he grinned wickedly. ‘You’re such a good girl, sweetheart.’

The taut string inside her snapped, and she unravelled with a low moan, her fingers grasping at his bulging shoulders.

‘Fuck, Hermione, you’re so beautiful like this.’ He said, slowing his strokes to draw out her pleasure. She felt boneless and sated. ‘I need to be inside you. Is that okay?’

She nodded, pulling him between her legs. He groaned softly, lining himself up. He kissed her as he pushed in slowly. She relished the stretch, realising he was quite a bit larger there, too.

‘Just breathe, sweetheart, you can take it.’ He said as if sensing her thoughts. His kiss dissolved all of her lingering tension, and he sighed into her mouth as he bottomed out. Just as she adjusted to how full she was, he began to move. Slow, sure thrusts sent sparks skittering through her.

It had never been like this, not with anyone before; she bubbled and popped, moving her hips to create more friction between them. He hitched her leg up over his waist to angle deeper. They moaned into each other's mouths, stealing each other's breath. His form surrounded her as he rolled his firm hips faster.

She babbled incoherent things, his name coming out in gasps.

‘Yes, that’s it.’ He panted. ‘You feel so good, sweetheart. So hot. So tight.’ He groaned. ‘Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer.’

She wasn’t far behind him, her pleasure coiling tighter again already. His breathing hitched, and he snaked his hand between them to rub circles on her without breaking his rhythm.

‘Give me one more, sweetheart.’ He said breathlessly. ‘So good for me. Just like that.’

She careened over the edge into bliss, every nerve ending in her body exploding. He followed, biting into her shoulder as he spilt inside of her in hot pulses.

‘Hermione.’ He rasped, his weight pressing onto her for a beat before he rolled, bringing her with him. He tucked her into his side, summoning his wand to cast a contraceptive charm and clean them off. He pulled the duvet over them and buried his face in her hair.

She snuggled closer, relishing the heat of his skin against hers. His fingers danced through her curls and down her spine. She enjoyed the quiet peace between them and realised she’d never had that with someone before. She tilted her head to look at him and found him already watching her.

He cupped her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. ‘My brother is a fucking idiot for ever letting you go.’

She let out a shaky breath. ‘Charlie…’

‘He is. And I should warn you, there’s a reason I like being around dragons so much; I don’t let go of my treasures without a fight either.’ He kissed her softly, and she melted into his embrace.

-

Charlie was true to his word. They spent the whole year of her research project tangled up together, night and day. As the months passed, they argued about everything from household chores to whether Thestrals were more intelligent than Swedish Shortsnouts. Still, they always ended up laughing together in bed after every row.

The following year, she had a placement in Germany fighting for fair adjustments to European Werewolf rights, and they travelled to see each other whenever they could. Weekend reunions became sacred: they met in floo terminals with arms full of flowers and books, shared hurried kisses, and explored new cities whenever their schedules aligned. There were hard goodbyes and missed birthdays, long nights of longing, but neither ever doubted that, wherever they were, they would always find their way back together.

Finally, by the beginning of their third year together, he’d had enough of not having her every day and decided to follow her wherever she went, picking up any work he could while staying close to her. They were engaged by that Christmas.

Ron didn’t come to the wedding, but Hermione didn’t care. Charlie was the sunshine she needed in her darkest moments.