Dragon Tears - 2/7 - Teen - Charlie/Hermione
Title: Dragon Tears (2/7)
Author: silvernatasha
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Sometimes, something bad can start something good. Charlie/Hermione.
Word Count: 1121.
There were no words. Hermione couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form words vocally or mentally. The thoughts were there, yes, but they were just that. Thoughts. Images. All incoherent and jumbled. Hermione couldn’t even start to sort through them.
She felt numb. It was almost like having pins and needles in her whole body. Her limbs just didn’t feel right. They felt dead, like useless weights hanging off her.
Letting out a sob, she covered her face with her hands, ignoring the stinging pain from her grazes.
Addie, Mark and the researchers from the other tent had been alert by the explosion. Hermione had barely registered the sound of their arrival or the shouts as they used every spell they knew to try and put out the fire. She had been inside the tent, the smoke stinging her eyes as it enveloped her.
Hermione coughed, looking around. What was left of the kitchen was a charred mess and she had the horrible feeling that this was where the first explosion had been. Smoke was still rising from the ruins, almost listlessly, as though it couldn’t be bothered to drift away, yet had to as that was all it could do.
Coughing again, Hermione’s eyes flicked to the spot where she had found Miranda. The linoleum was ever-so-slightly cleaner where she had been lying, which made it painful to look at. When she had seen her boss lying there, her heart had jumped to her throat.
Something had hit her eye and blood covered half her face. She was barely conscious, but in true Miranda style, she had asked about Charlie. Through the black smoke, Hermione hadn’t been able to see him, but had reassured her that he was fine.
Hermione had managed to find a strength within herself that she didn’t know she possessed, and had carried the other woman outside. She had ignored any of the shouts directed at her and plunged straight back into the tent, intent on finding Charlie.
She pulled her hair from her ponytail. Most of her hair had come loose, anyway, and so it was hardly worth keeping it up. Her hair smelled a little singed and Hermione had vague thoughts of a hairdresser and giant scissors that were muddled with images of Charlie, his knees hugged to his chest and cradling his arm.
Barely able to see through the smoke, Hermione could still smell blood. She’d know what smell anywhere. The smell of burning of flesh was just as distinctive and she nearly lost her breakfast then and there.
There were no words. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t shout. Couldn’t ask Charlie if he was okay, because he clearly wasn’t. Charlie was rocking back and forth, humming. There were no words. The sound of flames. Shouting spells. Charlie’s humming. Everything was just a grotesque melody of horror, one that would just be played over and over in her head.
Hermione swallowed, trying to forget the look on Charlie’s face when she’d grabbed his good arm, trying to get him out of there, afraid that what was left of the tent would collapse around them at any minute. He’d looked like he didn’t recognise her. She’d looked anywhere but at the bloody stump where his hand used to be.
They were at the hospital now, Miranda and Charlie. Hermione didn’t want to think about them, because thinking about them would mean that she had to accept that this had happened. That things weren’t going to be the same.
She twisted her wand, which had survived the fire, between her bloodied fingers. She wasn’t sure whose blood it was. Hers or Charlie’s? It could even be Miranda’s blood, dripping from her face as Hermione had carried her. Her t-shirt was covered in it and, when Hermione became aware of this, she wanted to rip it off, to throw it away.
Coughing, Hermione tried to take a deep breath. Her lungs felt too small for her body, as though they had been the victim of a misplaced Drying Charm. As her thoughts started to drift to herself, she became more aware of the aches and pains of her body. Her arms hurt and her shoulders were numb. Looking down at her knees, they had both been bleeding and scabs were starting to form.
Physical pain gave way to emotional pain. Hermione let out a sob, shaken by everything that she had seen. Seeing Charlie like that had hit her hard. He was the reason she’d taken this job and she was closer to him than anyone else on he reserve. It wasn’t just their shared history, but there was something about him that had endeared him to her immediately.
Just as Charlie could be a gruff bastard who didn’t give a fuck about anyone but his dragons, he could be like a playful little puppy, teasing and joking around with a sense of humour that was as wicked as the twins’. He could be lewd and dirty-minded when he wanted, innuendo lacing his every word. Hermione was almost embarrassed that she picked up on all of this.
She coughed, thinking of how he always drank too much, never able to judge his own limits. He was ever worse than Ron, she thought with the faintest glimmer of a smile.
The feeling that was boiling in her belly couldn’t be ignored. She knew for certain now that the way she felt about Charlie wasn’t strictly friendly But why had she had to find out like this?
She couldn’t face the idea of telling his family. It was something that had to be done. So many things needed to be done. She just wanted to curl up in bed and fall asleep, escaping from this in her dreams. But there was no longer a bed she could use.
A hand gently touched her shoulder - Hermione flinched, raising her wand. A voice broke through the haze. “Hermione, sweetie. You can’t stay here. We’re going to take you to the hospital, okay?”
Hermione shook her head. “I can’t go yet. I need to… Charlie wanted me to check on Misty’s eggs and you know what he gets like. A-a-and I need to talk to Molly and Arthur.”
Addie frowned. “Yeah, I had a feeling you’d want to tell Charlie’s parents.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you checked out first, yeah? From what you’ve told me, they’ll worry about you, too.”
“But, Misty…”
“Check on her tomorrow, yeah? I’m sure nothing will happen between now and then.”
She was shaky on her feet as Addie steered her out of the ruined tent. “His hand.”
“Yeah, I saw.” Addie squeezed her. “He’s going to be fine. You know what he’s like.”
One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven
Author: silvernatasha
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Sometimes, something bad can start something good. Charlie/Hermione.
Word Count: 1121.
There were no words. Hermione couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form words vocally or mentally. The thoughts were there, yes, but they were just that. Thoughts. Images. All incoherent and jumbled. Hermione couldn’t even start to sort through them.
She felt numb. It was almost like having pins and needles in her whole body. Her limbs just didn’t feel right. They felt dead, like useless weights hanging off her.
Letting out a sob, she covered her face with her hands, ignoring the stinging pain from her grazes.
Addie, Mark and the researchers from the other tent had been alert by the explosion. Hermione had barely registered the sound of their arrival or the shouts as they used every spell they knew to try and put out the fire. She had been inside the tent, the smoke stinging her eyes as it enveloped her.
Hermione coughed, looking around. What was left of the kitchen was a charred mess and she had the horrible feeling that this was where the first explosion had been. Smoke was still rising from the ruins, almost listlessly, as though it couldn’t be bothered to drift away, yet had to as that was all it could do.
Coughing again, Hermione’s eyes flicked to the spot where she had found Miranda. The linoleum was ever-so-slightly cleaner where she had been lying, which made it painful to look at. When she had seen her boss lying there, her heart had jumped to her throat.
Something had hit her eye and blood covered half her face. She was barely conscious, but in true Miranda style, she had asked about Charlie. Through the black smoke, Hermione hadn’t been able to see him, but had reassured her that he was fine.
Hermione had managed to find a strength within herself that she didn’t know she possessed, and had carried the other woman outside. She had ignored any of the shouts directed at her and plunged straight back into the tent, intent on finding Charlie.
She pulled her hair from her ponytail. Most of her hair had come loose, anyway, and so it was hardly worth keeping it up. Her hair smelled a little singed and Hermione had vague thoughts of a hairdresser and giant scissors that were muddled with images of Charlie, his knees hugged to his chest and cradling his arm.
Barely able to see through the smoke, Hermione could still smell blood. She’d know what smell anywhere. The smell of burning of flesh was just as distinctive and she nearly lost her breakfast then and there.
There were no words. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t shout. Couldn’t ask Charlie if he was okay, because he clearly wasn’t. Charlie was rocking back and forth, humming. There were no words. The sound of flames. Shouting spells. Charlie’s humming. Everything was just a grotesque melody of horror, one that would just be played over and over in her head.
Hermione swallowed, trying to forget the look on Charlie’s face when she’d grabbed his good arm, trying to get him out of there, afraid that what was left of the tent would collapse around them at any minute. He’d looked like he didn’t recognise her. She’d looked anywhere but at the bloody stump where his hand used to be.
They were at the hospital now, Miranda and Charlie. Hermione didn’t want to think about them, because thinking about them would mean that she had to accept that this had happened. That things weren’t going to be the same.
She twisted her wand, which had survived the fire, between her bloodied fingers. She wasn’t sure whose blood it was. Hers or Charlie’s? It could even be Miranda’s blood, dripping from her face as Hermione had carried her. Her t-shirt was covered in it and, when Hermione became aware of this, she wanted to rip it off, to throw it away.
Coughing, Hermione tried to take a deep breath. Her lungs felt too small for her body, as though they had been the victim of a misplaced Drying Charm. As her thoughts started to drift to herself, she became more aware of the aches and pains of her body. Her arms hurt and her shoulders were numb. Looking down at her knees, they had both been bleeding and scabs were starting to form.
Physical pain gave way to emotional pain. Hermione let out a sob, shaken by everything that she had seen. Seeing Charlie like that had hit her hard. He was the reason she’d taken this job and she was closer to him than anyone else on he reserve. It wasn’t just their shared history, but there was something about him that had endeared him to her immediately.
Just as Charlie could be a gruff bastard who didn’t give a fuck about anyone but his dragons, he could be like a playful little puppy, teasing and joking around with a sense of humour that was as wicked as the twins’. He could be lewd and dirty-minded when he wanted, innuendo lacing his every word. Hermione was almost embarrassed that she picked up on all of this.
She coughed, thinking of how he always drank too much, never able to judge his own limits. He was ever worse than Ron, she thought with the faintest glimmer of a smile.
The feeling that was boiling in her belly couldn’t be ignored. She knew for certain now that the way she felt about Charlie wasn’t strictly friendly But why had she had to find out like this?
She couldn’t face the idea of telling his family. It was something that had to be done. So many things needed to be done. She just wanted to curl up in bed and fall asleep, escaping from this in her dreams. But there was no longer a bed she could use.
A hand gently touched her shoulder - Hermione flinched, raising her wand. A voice broke through the haze. “Hermione, sweetie. You can’t stay here. We’re going to take you to the hospital, okay?”
Hermione shook her head. “I can’t go yet. I need to… Charlie wanted me to check on Misty’s eggs and you know what he gets like. A-a-and I need to talk to Molly and Arthur.”
Addie frowned. “Yeah, I had a feeling you’d want to tell Charlie’s parents.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you checked out first, yeah? From what you’ve told me, they’ll worry about you, too.”
“But, Misty…”
“Check on her tomorrow, yeah? I’m sure nothing will happen between now and then.”
She was shaky on her feet as Addie steered her out of the ruined tent. “His hand.”
“Yeah, I saw.” Addie squeezed her. “He’s going to be fine. You know what he’s like.”
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