Harry hesitantly nodded in agreement before turning to Ron, "Later, mate. We'll tell you later."
Ron sighed, but understood.
The three Gryffindor boys headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow, Fred and George were teasing Percy about Penelope Clearwater, and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl; the three of them were rather giggly.
While Ron and Harry walked over to talk to Fred and George, Charlie walked around the table to take a seat next to Hermione. As soon as she saw him, she instantly excused herself from her previous conversation and looked to the boy instead, smiling, "Morning."
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(A/N: She's literally beautiful omg.)
The brown eyed boy met her gaze with a soft smile that made her heart beat quicker, "Morning."
When he looked up at her, Hermione's face fell slightly. She took notice of the obvious bags under his eyes and frowned. Suddenly, she recalled his bruise from before. She hadn't gotten the chance to question him further about it since the Weasleys and Harry had now joined them everywhere, but she hadn't forgotten. His clearly restless state worried her even more, if that was even possible.
Charlie raised a brow at her, clearly unaware of what had caused her expression to change, "Something on my face?"
The bushy haired girl's face soften as she focused back on the boy in front of her, "N-no. It's just — D-did you sleep well?"
Charlie gulped before grabbing an apple from the tray on the table. He took a bite to buy him some time to think of a response.
After a moment, he answered, avoiding Hermione's gaze at all costs, "N-not really." — this made the bushy haired girl give him a worried look that he shrugged off quickly — "But I reckon it's just because I miss my own bed, you know? Staying here just isn't the same."
Hermione nodded, but still wasn't convinced, "Right."
The brown eyed boy put on the best fake smile he could before changing the subject, "So, what were you talking to Mrs. Weasley about before I so rudely interrupted?"
"Oh, um," Hermione blushed, embarrassed, which took over her look of concern, "Mrs. Weasley was telling us about this — uh — l-love potion she made when she was younger. It was a really funny story —"
Charlie laughed, "I bet. She teach you how to make one? Should I be expecting some lucky bloke to fall head over heels in love with you randomly?"
It was supposed to be a joke, but Hermione took an interest in the way it was said. More specifically, the words he used.
"Lucky, huh?" She teased, looking into his eyes deeply.
