Broken Smile

Broken Smile

The summer before Titan’s seventh year was one of the best summers for the whole family. They were joined by another member, Betsy Molly Weasley. Betsy was almost two, with bushy red hair, lots of freckles, and big blue eyes. Hermione was thrilled to have a little girl; as women, they were still outnumbered by the men, but Betsy seemed to be the boss when it came to her father and brothers.

Hermione had finished writing her book; she entitled it ‘Broken Smile.’ She told the story of her days at Hogwarts, the highs and lows. She hadn’t published the book yet, still unsure if she wanted to, but time will tell.

As for Titan, he had grown stronger; finding out what happened to is mother made him grow up a little faster. He had grown a little closer to Charlie, even calling him “Dad”…sometimes. Draco and Titan talk about their father, though it was hard for Draco; in some way he was scared Titan would hate him for keeping the truth from him. Sometimes Hermione would joke that they adopted Draco, and Charlie would scowl at her; though Charlie did warm up to Draco the best he could.

On a hot July day the kids were in the garden having water fights; Titan and Ron had built the younger two a fort. Titan held Betsy, making sure the other two didn’t get her with water; he had become quite protective of his little sister. Hermione, watching them from her bedroom window, didn’t hear Charlie enter. He stood behind his wife for a moment, watching the sunlight glaze off her hair.

Charlie planted his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. “You know, the kids are going to mum and dad’s tomorrow…” His hand gently caressed her arm as he spoke. “…I thought we could spend the day in bed…”

Hermione turned around in his arms, a smirk set about her lips. “I could use a good lay-in.”

“You won’t be sleeping, my dear wife,” Charlie replied with his own smirk.

He pulled her away from the window and started to kiss her neck. Hermione’s hands fanned through his hair, pulling him close. Charlie captured her lips; even after all these years of being together, they still felt the sparks.

Hermione pulled away seeking some air. “So, what do you have planed for me, Husband?” she asked while her hands rested at the back of his neck.

Charlie was about to answer when he heard someone clearing their throat. Charlie turned to the side with Hermione still in his arms. Titan stood at the door with Betsy in his arms. Titan and Betsy’s hair and clothes were soaked, though Betsy still had a smile on her face.

“This is what every teenager wants to see…” Titan said sarcastically. “…Ron and Arthur teamed up,” he explained to them as he walked farther into the room. He had grown so much; at seventeen he towered over most of the family; only Bill could look Titan in his eyes.

Hermione took a towel from the hamper for Betsy; she took her from Titan and wrapped her in the towel. She sat the little girl on the bed and started to take off her wet clothes.

“All wet,” Betsy giggled.

“I know. Let Mummy get those clothes off you.”

“Well, I have a war to win,” Titan said, heading for the door.

“Want some help?” Charlie asked with a smile.

“I can handle it—but another pair of hands would help,” Titan replied.


Hermione and Betsy watched Charlie and Titan drown Ron and Arthur with water. Hermione carried Betsy through the house to her own room to get her some dry clothes; on her way out she saw a picture of herself, Harry, and Ron. The picture was taken during their fifth year at Christmas time; she wished that they were here now. She knew that they would always be with her in some ways…

* * * * * * *


Charlie and Hermione had the house to themselves. Hermione had just stepped out of the bath; she walked into the bedroom fixing her white fluffy towel. Charlie came walking into their room a few moments later with a sketchpad and pencil. Hermione eyed him; he kept trying to sketch her. Charlie had drawn lots of pictures of the kids and only one of his wife.

“Charlie, you can put that pad away—I don’t want you to draw me,” Hermione told him, while drying herself.

Charlie looked innocently at his wife. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to draw you; you’re my inspiration.”

“How sweet…but no chance,” Hermione said firmly. “You have two drawings of me already…”

Charlie was watching his wife drying her breasts; he started to talk to her chest. “One…and I don’t have a nude one,” he said with a smile.

Hermione looked at him sharply. “If you wanted to draw me in the nude—you should have done it before I had four children.”

Charlie’s smile grew. Hermione wrapped the towel back around herself because she noticed he was scribbling at his pad.

“Come here,” Charlie beckoned his wife.

Hermione walked to him slowly; she stood in-between his legs. Charlie pulled her down on his lap and she let out a yelp of surprise.

“Why would you deny me the pleasure of drawing you?”

“You’ve seen me naked enough times to draw me from memory,” Hermione pointed out.

“Where would the fun be in that?” Charlie said with a grin. “It’s not my fault you’re so hot.”

“Really. So, it wasn’t you last weekend drooling over Fred’s new girlfriend with the rest of your brothers?” Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

Charlie put his hand to his heart. “Me? Never,” Charlie began playfully. “Although, if you prefer me to draw Erin…”

Hermione didn’t let him finish; her lips captured his. She pulled back after a moment. “Where do you want me?”

Charlie grinned like a teenage boy. “Charlie! For your drawing!” Hermione said shaking her head.

Charlie set her on her feet. He took a blanket from the bottom of their bed, then took the towel from Hermione and tossed it on the floor. He spread the blanket out on the rocking chair. Motioning for Hermione to sit down, he arranged one of her legs and covered in between her legs with the blanket. Charlie placed one of her hands on her raised leg and her other hand on her stomach; he left her breasts bare and gently pulled the clip from her hair. As he stood back to get a good look at her, he noticed his wife staring at him.

“What?”

“Been planning this, have you?”

Charlie laughed. “You have no idea,” he replied.

“Oh, I have a fair idea.” She gave him a pointed look.

Charlie was about to sit back on the bed and begin his portrait when he decided to open the window a little more; it was quite breezy outside though the sun was still shining bright.

Hermione let out a long sigh; Charlie turned to look at her. He came walking towards her. “One more thing.” He knelt in front of his wife with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Charlie licked his wife’s left nipple and then the right one; Hermione let out welcoming gasps. He smiled up at her and continued his assault until both her pink nipples had hardened before him. He placed her hands back in place and flattened his hair back down.

When Hermione controlled her breathing again she realized why Charlie opened the window. He began to draw, doing a quick sketch and then working on the best parts—the details.

Hermione had been sitting there for awhile; she moved slightly, trying not to stiffen up. She watched her husband; the way he bit gently on his tongue while he worked. She remembered when she first met Charlie; she hadn’t had a crush on him like she had on Bill. Charlie made her laugh and he was very sweet, but she had never thought she would end up married to him.

“What’s that look in your eyes?” Charlie asked.

“I was thinking about when we first met that summer—at the Quidditch World Cup.” Hermione smiled again at the thought. “If someone would have told me back then that I would be married to you…”

“What’s so shocking about that?” Charlie asked with mock anger.

Hermione smiled. “Well, I had a crush on Bill and…” Hermione’s smile grow.

“If you like tall and handsome?”

“Actually, now I prefer short and burly…” Hermione said, redeeming herself, “…and cute.”

“Just cute?”

“And sexist…and well, I could just go on and on…”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Charlie mused.

“I know you wouldn’t…let me see the picture.”

“I’m not finished yet,” Charlie said without looking up.

“It’s starting to get really cold…” Hermione began.

Charlie turned his drawing around so she could see. Hermione leaned forward to get a closer look; she couldn’t help think what a talented artist her husband was. The only criticism she had was the person he was drawing…her.

“Make my breasts bigger, so my stomach looks smaller,” Hermione commented. “And don’t draw my birth mark.” She covered her left breast as she spoke.

“Move your hand—I love your birth mark.” Hermione had a light brown mark on her left breast that Charlie always paid attention to.
“And I’m leaving your stomach the way it is…but I can make your breasts bigger.” Charlie chuckled at the look his wife gave him.

“Can I move my leg?” Hermione asked after awhile. “It’s getting stiff.”

“Yeah, I can do the shading in later…but keep your breasts bare.”

Charlie sounded like a professional, like he had drawn or painted many nude models—though Hermione would brain him if he did.
After awhile Charlie stretched and put down his pencil; he looked up and smiled at his wife.

“Can I move now?” Hermione asked.

“Yep; I still have touching up to do but I can do that later,” he told her, placing his pad on the nightstand.

Hermione gathered the blanket around her shoulders and walked to her husband. “Well, I would like you do same touching up right now.” She spoke with a soft-whispery voice.

She climbed onto Charlie’s lap, trapping him between her thighs; she still had the blanket around her shoulders. Charlie’s arms went around her waist, pulling her towards him so her breasts pressed against his chest. His lips hovered by her ear and he nipped her gently.

“Is this your way of paying me for the drawing?” Charlie asked huskily.

“No. This is your way of paying me, for letting you...”

Hermione barely had the chance to finish her sentence before Charlie’s lips crushed hers. He lay back on the bed, pulling his wife with him. His lips kissed down her neck, collarbone, and finally her breasts. After looking at her breasts for most of the morning, but unable to taste them, he made sure he could enjoy his feast.

He kissed her birthmark and then captured her left nipple; tiny moans made his lips seek more. He moved to her other breast while his hand wound around. There were no secrets to her body; his hands knew all the places to touch.

Soon Hermione found herself beneath her husband; he had shed his clothes and she could feel him coming between her thighs. She placed her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her nails clawing at his back. She closed her eyes while they rocked together; when she felt his warm seed spill into her, her hands moved into his hair while she kissed his sweaty forehead.

Charlie rested his head on her chest, unable to move; he gently kissed her chest. After awhile they lay on the bed, Hermione’s head resting on Charlie’s chest, while their limbs tangled with each other. The sun had gone down and it looked as if it was going to rain, though neither of them noticed.

* * * * *


Hermione sat in the rocking chair with Betsy and Arthur on her lap, a small yellow blanket around them both. She was reading them a bedtime story; she could see their little eyes closed. Hermione put the book on the floor beside the rocking chair; Ron poked his head around the door.

He was about to say something, but stopped when his mother shook her head. “Ron, could you get Arthur for me?” Hermione whispered.

“Sure,” Ron whispered his reply. He picked Arthur up, gently laying him upon his bed. Arthur and Betsy shared a room now; Ron had to move into the attic with Titan, much to Titan’s annoyance.

Hermione put Betsy in her cot at the other side of the room; Betsy’s unruly hair surrounded her little face. Hermione brushed her hair from her face and covered her over. She turned around to see Ron covering Arthur; she smiled at how gentle he was. Usually Ron complains about his little brother, the same way Titan does about Ron.

Hermione and Ron closed the door and Hermione turned to look at her son. “So, what have you got planned for tonight; a hot date?” she asked with amusement.

“No—it’s sad really…I’m spending the night with my mother,” Ron replied. Ron was almost thirteen, short and stocky like his father, and with quite a temper.

“That is sad,” Hermione said as they walked downstairs with her arm around him.

Charlie and Titan had gone out for a man’s night with the rest of the Wealsey clan; now that Titan was seventeen he had started to go to the pub.

Hermione and Ron sat on the sofa with a blanket around them while they ate tea and toast. Ron had put on a horror movie; if he wasn’t watching some action movie, he was watching zombies trying to eat people.

Hermione tucked her legs beneath herself. She had never liked horror movies; she held onto her son arm. Ron rolled his eyes, though he let his mother hide her face in the side of his shirt.

When the movie was over, Ron turned it off and stretched. He looked over at his mother.

“Mum?”

“Yeah?” Hermione smiled at him; she could tell he wanted to ask her something.

“When me and Titan were walking home yesterday we cut through the graveyard…because it’s quicker…” Titan told Ron not to mention it but Ron wanted to know. “How come we don’t go to visit Nana and Granddad’s grave…or Uncle Ron and Harry’s…?”

“I’m not sure…it’s hard…would you like to go?” Hermione asked him.

“Maybe we could lay some flowers down or something…” Ron looked uneasy as he spoke. “Only if you want to.”

“I’ll tell you what, you and Titan go back to school next week, so how about during the Christmas holiday we could all go…we can lay some flowers, too.” Hermione had thought about going many times; she just didn’t have the strength to.

Ron seemed happy with that. He reached over and placed a kiss on his mother’s forehead.

He stood up and put another movie. “Next were watching ‘Night of the Dead.’ It’s the black-and-white one, the original,” Ron told her.

“Oh, great,” his mother replied; she really hated horror movies, though she could see how much Ron liked to watch them.

Hermione had fallen asleep near the end; Ron covered her over with the blanket and turned the sound down a little. As the credits of the movie played Titan and Charlie came through the front door.

Charlie leaned over to sniff Titan’s breath, which caused Titan to pull away. “Look, you may have brought me a drink—but that’s about as far as you go,” Titan said with a grin.

“Funny. Make sure you don’t tell your mother that I let you drink…” Charlie began.

“I won’t—but I am old enough…”

“Titan!”

“I won’t say anything.”

They walked through to the living room; Ron put his finger to his lip and pointed to his mother. All three of them looked down at her; she looked like a child as she slept. They respect her, love her and fear her, too; she held each of them in the palm of her hand.

“Why don’t you two get off to bed,” Charlie said, taking off his coat.

“Night, Dad; Titan,” Ron said on his way upstairs.

“Night, Ron,” Charlie replied, while Titan nodded. Titan walked around the sofa and placed a kiss on his mother’s forehead and brushed her hair out of her face. He turned around to face Charlie. “Night…Charlie,” Titan said before turning and heading up stairs.

Charlie picked Hermione up; he was glad he hadn’t drunk too much. As he got to the stairs Hermione started to stir; her eyes fluttered open. “What time…is…it?” Hermione asked through yawns.

“Past your bedtime,” Charlie replied as he carried her up the stairs.

Hermione laid her head against her husband’s shoulder. “You didn’t let Titan drink, did you?” Hermione asked.

“No…butterbeers all night.” Charlie tried to keep a straight face; Hermione still thought of Titan as a little boy.

Hermione heard him let out a breath as he reached the top step; she giggled. “What’s so funny?” Charlie asked as he walked in their bedroom.

“You’re getting old…How old are you in a few months—forty?”

“Well, you’re getting heavy,” Charlie told her, dropping his wife on the bed.

Hermione laughed. “Maybe I’ll throw you a big party with a cake that has a big 40 on it.” She sat up and crawled to where he sat on the bed. Charlie was taking his shoes off. Hermione rested her chin on his shoulder and her hands worked on the buttons of his shirt from behind. Charlie stilled her hands. “I think I’m getting a little old for this…” he began.

“Maybe I should trade you in for someone younger…” Charlie had her pinned to the bed before she could say anything else.

“Maybe you need to be taught some manners?”

Hermione’s eyes become soft. “I love you.” Her eyes held his as she ran her hands over his face.

Charlie brushed his lips against hers. “I love you, too,” he whispered.

* * * * * * *

Hermione walked across the soft grass, the wind taking her hair to flight; she tucked her hands inside her coat sleeves to keep them warm. Today was October 2; Titan and Ron were back at school and Arthur and Betsy were with their Aunt Ginny.

Ginny was three months pregnant with the child of her fiancé Kevin Price, a thirty-five year old editor at the Daily Prophet; the two of them planned to get married later that year. Ginny was happy to watch Arthur and Betsy; she told Hermione that the practice would come in handy.

Hermione had spent the morning at her parent’s graves; she hadn’t been there since they were buried. Before, she couldn’t bring herself to go. Now she made her way to Harry and Ron’s graves; they lay to rest next to Harry’s parents. Hermione felt her heart flutter as she approached.

Hermione held two bunches of lilies in her hands; she stood for a moment, not moving, nor barely breathing. She laid the lilies on each of their graves and kneeled on the grass. She wasn’t sure what she planned to say; only that she needed to talk to them.

“Hi guys, where to begin? I miss you both so much—more than I can say… Sometimes I feel you both…I never had the chance to say how much I loved the way you, Harry, always knew what I was thinking or at least most of the time. And Ron, you…you could make me laugh no matter what…” A few tears fell as she spoke; she wiped them away… “I needed to say thank you for all the times you both made me sneak out after curfew…or reminded me that I was just a kid and needed to have some fun every now and then.”
“I love you both…forgive me for not coming sooner…I just couldn’t…losing you both broke my heart.” Hermione’s teary eyes fell upon Ron’s grave; she could almost see his face.
“Ron…I hope you can forgive…you’ll always have my heart…”
Her tears ran freely now; she didn’t regret Charlie or her children…she only hoped Ron would understand…


Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder; she turned quickly to look into the black eyes of Professor Snape. He offered his hand to her; Hermione hesitated for a moment before she let him help her up. She wiped her eyes, feeling embarrassed; she really shouldn’t, for Snape had seen her worse off. They just stood looking at one another, then Snape turn his black eyes to the two gravestones in front of him. He still remembered her frighten eyes from that night in the dungeon and the words she spoke to him. “I’m scared, Sir.”

Professor Snape had aged quite well; other than his gray hair, he looked the same, Hermione thought. “Hello, Professor Snape,” she said softly.

“Miss—Mrs. Weasley,” he replied with a nod of his head.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would be at Hogwarts.”

“The old man sometimes lets me out on the weekends.” A smile tugged at Snape’s lips.

Hermione gave him a weak smile. “Who are you visiting?” Hermione asked.

“My father,” he replied, Snape’s pointed towards the West Side.

Hermione knew that was the section for the pureblood graves; she couldn’t help but think who else was buried there. Snape seemed to know what she was thinking, so he changed the subject.

“Titan is a fine young man. A bit like his brother Draco sometimes…but I’m glad to say more like his mother,”

Hermione could not see any emotion in his eyes as he spoke; she knew saying that to her was hard for him. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Ron, on the other hand, is very much like his father and uncles.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Hermione said with a light laugh; she was happy to hear Snape laugh a little, too.

“You had another child not so long ago? Professor McGonagall was telling me.”

A smile came to Hermione’s face. “Yes. Betsy; she’s almost two now and Arthur’s five.” There was a short silence; neither knew what to say.

“Well, Mrs. Weasley, I must be on my way. It was nice to see you; I’m sure Professor McGonagall would love to see you and your little ones.”

“Maybe it’s time I came back to visit Hogwarts… Say hello to everyone for me and please tell Professor McGonagall I will owl her,” Hermione said, extending her hand.

“I will,” Snape replied while shaking her hand and with a pop he was gone.

Hermione stayed at Harry and Ron’s graves for awhile longer; she felt better, like some demons had been scared away. She made her way west to the pureblood’s section; she held her breath as she reached the grave of Lucius Malfoy. He was buried next to a long line of other Malfoys; she didn’t bother to read any of their names.

She just stood there in front of his grave, not saying a word or moving. A cool wind made her cheeks grow pinker; she couldn’t forget his face or his hands. She still remembered the way his touch felt…

“That night you broke me… my two best friends were taken from
me…everything…” Hermione didn’t cry; she didn’t want to waste
any more tears on him. “Titan is everything you’re not. He’s funny,
caring, and his eyes hold warmth…he’s so much like Draco. I used
to hate…but I don’t any more…I’ve moved on…you didn’t
win…” Hermione turned to leave; she knew that she wouldn’t see
his face as much when she closed her eyes nor his touch in the dead of the night. “Rest in peace,” Hermione whispered before walking away and not looking back.

Hermione had no bitterness left within; she had moved on. Lucius broke her spirit that night. Though he gave her Titan…and Hermione knew in her heart that she would go though her nightmare all over again to have Titan.

Life has many hidden doors; behind some of those doors is fun and adventure; behind others is pain and sorrow. Hermione knows pain and sorrow all too well; Charlie and her kids are her fun and adventure. Hermione’s smile will never truly be unbroken, though she’s happy she has the glue to put it back together.

* * * * * * *

Juri-Thank you so much.

DrkMnComikker-FLUFFY, I think Broken Smile needed some fluffy bits. Thanks.

* * * * * * * *

Well, that was the last chapter; I hope you all liked it. Thank you for reading it and to everyone whom took the time to review. I do have a Fanfic on the way; it’s different and Hermione’s love interest is an odd choice. Thanks to pinky for helping me in the beginning and a big thanks to Jamie for taking over Beta and putting up with me. I can’t forget my brother Robert; he made me post Broken Smile. Broken Smile is dedicated to my Nanny, she died back is September.

Big hugs to everyone
Caroline