Four Weddings and a Dragon - Charlie Weasley

Chapter 21

Charlie came bounding down the stairs of his in-laws' house, pulling a fresh T-shirt that smelled like nothing but laundry potion over his head.

"Hermione, wait," he was calling as he vaulted over the back of the sofa on his way to stop her from disappearing alone through the Floo.

"I will not," she said, waiting anyway. "If you can't properly manage Astoria Malfoy when she makes a pass at you, I'll do it myself."

"I did manage her," Charlie protested. "She went home ashamed of herself. And don't speak as if I can't take a firm hand with a Malfoy when needed."

She scoffed. "Wrestling Draco to the ground is completely different than comforting Astoria when she hurts her own feelings on your honour. No, Draco enjoys a firm hand, he begs for it. Astoria, though - she is begging for me to give her some handling she certainly will not enjoy."

Desperate to avoid any such thing, Charlie summoned the tin of Floo powder from the mantle just as Hermione was about to open it.

"Charlie!"

"I'm sorry, love," he said, pocketing the tin. "But I really don't think you should go storming into the manor like this. You're still too upset. Tell Astoria off all you want, but don't do it in anger."

Hermione stomped one foot on the hearth. "I'm not sure you understand what it means to tell someone off. Doing it in anger is entirely the point!"

He was approaching her with both hands extended, palms open and facing the floor, as if advancing on an irate dragon. "Fine, be angry. You're right, it's not my way. And I didn't think it was yours either, but - "

"Right! It is not my way!" she bawled at him as he continued to inch toward her. "Most days I am reason itself, author of the best-laid plans. But not on the night when someone has come around to throw herself at my husband. Tonight I am Harry Potter himself, no plan, running off in a frenzy of love to protect the best thing I have ever had in my life!"

Charlie had come near enough to take her in his arms, holding her as close as he could. "Ah, love," he said as she began to sob into his shoulder. "We are safe. Forever and everywhere, even when you're not here. I protect what we have too, with all my strength. It's enough, I promise. You're far more than enough for me."

Hermione's arms clenched around his waist as her tears intensified. "Did she even say sorry?" she hiccoughed against him.

He shook his head. "I can't be sure she did."

"And you told her you weren't angry and let her leave with no negative consequences?" she said, her voice rising again.

"I did, because - well, because I actually wasn't angry," he confessed. "Embarrassed, yes. And sad for her, and for Draco. But angry?"

Hermione stood back, looking up into his face, searching it for something. She nodded, sniffing against her tears. "Charlie Weasley, second born after the ever-confident Bill, before peevish Percy, the monster twins, and the never-confident Ronald. This is how you found your way in a family of personalities like that. You get along, no revenge. No howlers, no fisticuffs with Lucius Malfoy in bookshops, no beetle animagi trapped in bottles - "

"What? You lost me at beetles."

She shook her head, clearing the last of the tears away. "Another time. What I mean to say right now is that you learned in your family to let things go when no one else would. Everyone's pet brother, that's our Charlie." She raised her hand, smoothed her palm against his cheek. "It's why you're the best of them. Learning to free myself from holding grudges was part of what I wanted when I came to you in Romania in the first place. That and these arms."