Left Alone in the Burrow

 

Author's Note: Woohoo! I'm back! And so is another chapter. This story is now no longer a one-shot as I will be developing this later on. The uploads will NOT be regular, as I'm not a very organised person. That's all! On with the story! :D

 

Hermione woke, stretching. She was exhausted.

 

 

She spent half an hour simply relaxing in bed. A small smile appeared on her lips as she recalled yesterday’s events.

 

 

After the Weasley clan had released Charlie from their embrace, there was a large dinner Mrs Weasley had quickly cooked. As usual, the Weasleys were loud and

rambunctious, stuffing their faces with food. Ron had had mashed potato falling out of his mouth in his haste to eat as much as he could. The kitchen table was soon empty.

 

Hermione had gone to bed with nothing more than a wink from Charlie. With all the family around, nothing could or would happen- Hermione was sure this was only a one time thing. Suffice to say, she was bitterly disappointed.

 

 

She pulled a ratty, old dressing gown on over her T-shirt and knickers (her sleeping ensemble) and walked downstairs to the Burrow’s kitchen. Hermione looked at the clock.

It was seven AM. No one else was up yet- on a weekend everyone slept in late, even Mrs Weasley.

 

Opening a cupboard, she pulled out a box of cereal and filled a bowl. It had taken a lot of persuading to get Coco-Pops into the Weasley household. Mrs Weasley didn’t trust the “muggle food”. Mr Weasley however, was a different matter. He couldn’t get enough of them. When they were banned from the Burrow, Harry and Hermione had been smuggling them in for him, allowing him his favourite cereal in the morning.

 

 

A door creaked open behind Hermione. Although the rational part of her mind told her it was safe, that the Burrow was safe, her instincts left over from the War didn’t allow her to not defend herself.

 

 

Cursing the fact she had left her wand upstairs on the side cabinet, Hermione turned. She brandished her spoon at the kitchen’s invader.

 

 

“A spoon? Really? I’m terrified.”

 

 

The corner of her mouth twitched.

 

 

“A spoon is a dangerous weapon, Charlie. Never underestimate a spoon.”

 

 

He smirked as he strolled toward her. Charlie reached out for her dressing gown’s ties and slowly pulled her toward him. His eyes bored into her, focused and intense.

 

 

He then sharply yanked them and Hermione fell against his broad chest, hands resting on his heavy muscles. They remained like that for a minute, relaxing into the other’s

arms.

 

 

“Charlie?”

 

 

“Yes?”

 

 

“Are we going to do this again?”

 

 

Charlie ran his hands up and down Hermione’s back. She moved her own hands to capture his chiseled face and pulled it down to hers.

 

 

His lips whispered across hers as he kissed the corner of her mouth, tongue lightly flicking out to taste her skin. He did the same to the other side of her mouth, lingering there for a moment. His tongue ran across her bottom lip and his teeth pulled it into his mouth. Hermione moaned at the sensations shooting straight from her lips to her mound caused by his ministrations.

 

 

One of Charlie’s hands slid to the back of her neck, allowing him to angle her head better.

 

 

His tongue parted her lips and coaxed her out. Charlie kissed her deeply and Hermione’s knees buckled. He chuckled softly and lifted her to the counter. He stood between her legs and pulled her closer. Hermione ran her fingers through his hair and gripped the strands, yanking at his scalp.

 

 

Charlie pushed Hermione’s robe off her shoulders and caressed her skin lightly with his fingers. The creamy texture was soft under Charlie’s calloused hands. He traced patterns onto her back, making her arch into his warm chest.

 

 

He could feel her nipples peaking against his heavy muscles through his cotton t-shirt. Hermione rubbed against him, moaning. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tugged herself closer to him. Her sensitive mound was now pressed against Charlie’s urgent erection. He groaned and ground into her.

 

 

A thumping sound filled the room. Hermione looked to Charlie, puzzled. Was her heart beating that loudly? She could hear the blood rushing through her veins but was he hearing it too? He had ruined her mental prowess, she couldn’t think clearly.

 

 

Charlie’s eyes widened. 

 

 

“Shit! Someone’s coming!”

 

 

Hermione hurriedly yanked her dressing gown over her shoulders and Charlie tied the ties. He stepped away from her quickly and leant against the opposite counter,

adopting a casual pose.

 

 

Ron hurtled into the kitchen and bolted to the cupboards. He paid no attention to the room’s occupants but pulled a large bar of Honeydukes’s chocolate from the top shelf, tore open the packaging and bit off a huge chunk. He finally turned to his best friend and brother, both watching him with amusement lighting up their faces and said, “What you doin’ ‘ere?” 

 

 

Some chocolate flew out of his mouth and landed on Hermione’s cheek. Charlie stepped forward and wiped it off with his index finger, his lip curled in a surprisingly gentle smirk.

 

 

“Honestly Ron. That’s disgusting- did Mum never teach you any manners?”

 

 

Ron didn’t notice the tender gesture Charlie had given Hermione and just muttered an apology. “Sorry ‘Mione.” His mouth was still full of brown goo.

 

 

Hermione shuddered and whispered to Charlie, “And this is why I broke up with him. I prefer to not have to wash my face every mealtime.”

 

 

Charlie grinned back at her and leant forward again, his body pressed flush against hers in the pretence of getting a bowl from the cupboard behind her, murmuring, “I think you’ll find I have much better manners. I tend to be… fastidiously clean and tidy.” He dragged his lips over her neck and licked her skin. His teeth grazed her shoulder and Hermione stifled her purr of arousal.

 

 

Ron looked to Hermione in confusion. “Is your throat alright ‘Mione?”

 

 

Hermione coughed slightly in embarrassment and looked at Charlie, who had retreated back to his counter and was sniggering. “Just a tickle, thanks Ron.”

 

 

There was a few more minutes of an incredibly awkward silence before Mrs Weasley bustled into the kitchen.

 

 

“Goodness children! Why by Merlin’s beard are you up this early? Ronald woke me up with his trampling around the house. Can you not be considerate of anyone else in this household? I was enjoying a wonderful sleep before you bumbled around, falling over and slamming down the stairs!” Mrs Weasley’s face was quickly turning red.

 

 

She turned and noticed the other two occupants of the kitchen. “Hello dears. How are you this morning?”

 

 

Hermione and Charlie both murmured that they were fine.

 

 

“Have you had any breakfast? No? I’ll get some ready- you sit down, Charlie!”

 

 

Mrs Weasley rushed around the kitchen, and the smells of bacon and eggs permeated the room. Other Weasleys ambled into the kitchen, yawning. They sat down, murmuring a good morning to Charlie and Hermione. Mr Weasley bumbled in, kissing his wife and seating him, started to read the Daily Prophet. 

 

 

Harry came in last, having arrived late last night. His untidy black hair was, as usual, sticking up at the back. He sat beside Ginny and thumped his head on the table. Ginny rubbed his back and he groaned.

 

 

“I’m so tired!” Harry complained.

 

 

“Has Ginny been keeping you up all night?” Fred nudged Harry, winking.

 

 

“She does play Quidditch a lot- very fit. Can you keep up with her?” George added.

 

 

Harry thumped his head on the table even harder. His cheeks were tinged pink. Ginny’s were flaming red as she threw a spoon at the twins. It whistled past the area where George’s ear should have been.

 

 

“Cor, Ginny, if my ear was still there, that would have hurt!”

 

 

“Anyway, aren’t you a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies? You should have a better aim than that.”

 

 

Ginny looked at her brothers murderously. Her next shot, two oranges, each hit the red-haired troublemakers in the centre of their foreheads.

 

 

The camaraderie on the table went on, but Hermione didn’t notice or participate in any of it. Charlie’s leg was pressed against her own and she could feel the heat emanating

from it. Every now and then he shifted, and his leg moved closer to hers. Her thigh burned from the contact.

 

 

His foot curled around her ankle and he hooked it over his leg. His hand ghosted down her outer leg and came to rest upon her knee. He circled his fingers on her bare skin and slid to Hermione’s inner thigh. She parted her legs with no resistance, hoping Charlie would relieve her terrible, burning ache but he didn’t. 

 

 

Charlie merely laughed quietly under his breath. He tapped his finger onto her hot skin in a slight reprimand and withdrew his hand completely. Hermione kicked his ankle in frustration. Charlie chuckled again and winked at the irritated witch.

 

 

Mrs Weasley put a plate of breakfast in front of each of her children, and their guests. Conversation continued even as the hungry breakfasters tucked in. That was the Weasley way.

 

 

Ginny looked at her second-eldest brother sitting next to her best-friend. She considered the two, and decided on a course of action. 

 

 

“How long are you staying in England, Charlie?”

 

 

“A few weeks.”

 

 

“Are you going back to Romania after?”

 

 

“Lots of questions, little sis? Yes, they’re giving me a holiday for a bit. The dragons are fine for the moment.”

 

 

Hermione peeked at Charlie from the corner of her eye, and he looked back at her, smiling.

 

 

“Hermione, were you going to Diagon Alley today?”

 

 

“Yes. I need the potion for my leg- I’ve run out.”

 

 

“I’ll come with you. I need some new robes.” Charlie quickly jumped in.

 

 

Ginny smirked, covering her mouth with her hand. This would be easy.

 

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Yay! A frustated Hermione is never a good thing... What will happen next? 

Please review- I love hearing from you all :)