Title: Dragon Tears (6/7)
Author:
silvernatashaRating: 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: 950.
After spending time living in a tent in the middle of nowhere, it took time to adjust to being back in a house, no matter how homely the tent was. Charlie couldn’t sleep. He’d been staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, the bedroom he’d had as child and had now reclaimed, for nearly an hour, hoping that sleep would claim him.
When the hospital in Romania had discharged him, he had returned to England with Hermione and straight into the arms of his mother, who had insisted that they both stay at The Burrow. For once, he’d been glad to return there, a part of him secretly wanting to be mollycoddled and looked after, although Hermione had been doing a very good job at the hospital.
Charlie threw back the covers with his good hand and got out of bed. There was a chance that St Mungo’s would be able to help him as, since the war, they had been developing treatments for injuries such as his. He didn’t hold much hope that they would be able to grow his hand back, but there was talk that he might be able to get a realistic substitute.
He headed down to the kitchen, intending to get a glass of water. When he got to Ginny’s old room, he paused. Hermione was sleeping in there as Molly had deemed it safer than staying in the twins’ old room. You never knew what they had left behind. Glancing down, he spotted a sliver of light creeping under the door. Was Hermione still awake at this hour? Why?
Charlie knocked gently on the door. There was no reply for a moment, then he heard a scuffling and the door opened. Hermione peeked out cautiously, then opened the door wider when she realised that it was Charlie. “You can’t sleep either?”
He shook his head. “No. I think I’ve developed an aversion to houses after spending too long in a tent.” Charlie smiled slightly, although the thought of living in a tent again filled him with utter dread. He supposed that having your hand blown off in one would do that to a person.
“Come in,” she told him softly, shutting the door behind him. “I was just reading,” she said sitting down on her bed, slipping her bookmark between the pages.
“Anything interesting?”
“Not really. I was hoping that it would bore me to sleep.” Hermione looked up at Charlie with a hint of smile. “Why are you just standing there?” she asked, shifting over on the bed. She patted the mattress. “Come and sit down.”
A little awkwardly, Charlie sat next to her, putting his legs up on the bed. Ginny’s old bed was narrow and barely big enough for the two of them. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh and Charlie instinctively put his arm around her. Charlie wondered if he should say something, but the silence was surprisingly comfortable.
“I’m going to get a tattoo,” he said eventually.
Hermione tilted her head, looking up at him with an expression of mild surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Charlie nodded. “I’ve wanted one since I was twelve and I’ve never got around to it. Always kept putting it off. I suppose now…”
“Life’s too short?” Hermione suggested softly.
Charlie grinned. “Yeah. Exactly.”
She nodded, her curly hair soft against his arm. Charlie blushed slightly, realising that he was still only wearing the pair of boxer shorts that he had worn to bed. “Tell me about it,” Hermione told him quietly, closing her eyes.
“It’s going to be a dragon, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Hermione echoed in a murmur.
“Right. And I was thinking about having it on my back. Maybe on my shoulder blade or maybe even kind of curling around my arm. I don’t know whether to go for just black ink or maybe have a specific dragon. Like a Common Welsh or Swedish Shortsnout.”
Hermione shifted, curling more into his side. Her breath was warm against his chest as she breathed. “It’ll hurt,” she pointed out.
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Compared to what?” he teased, starting to play with a lock of her hair. There was something incredibly tactile about her hair, Charlie thought. It was as though it was begging to be touched and played with and Charlie was going to do just that. It wasn’t as though she was telling him to stop.
“Good point.” Hermione laughed slightly, her eyes still closed. “Your mother will kill you.”
Snorting, Charlie tugged lightly on her hair. “Mum? She should just be glad that I’m alive and almost in one piece.” He pulled the covers up over them and Hermione sighed.
“You still haven’t taken me out to dinner,” she pointed out as Charlie lay down, forcing her to lie down too. His warm body next to hers was far too comforting, she decided sleepily, already half-asleep.
“Friday night alright for you?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Hermione laughed sleepily. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”
“No. It’ll be a surprise for us both.” Charlie pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Now, shut up and go to sleep.”
“Don’t you go bossing me around,” she murmured. “I’m supposed to be the bossy one.”
Chuckling, Charlie reached over and extinguished the candle, sending the room into darkness.
Hermione shifted next to him. “I’ve been sleeping with the candle on since the accident.” Charlie blushed in the darkness. He hadn’t known that and he felt horrible for putting it out. When he made to sit up, though, Hermione put her hand on his chest to stop him. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t think I need it tonight.”
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