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The Burrow was too loud. Too crowded.
She quietly excused herself from the conversation she found herself in with Harry and Ginny before escaping out the back door and into the garden. She hadn’t missed the resigned look the couple shared as she left, but couldn’t force herself to stay to appease them. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t fought them on coming today.
They meant well, of course. They all did. She knew they had her best interests at heart, but she hadn’t been ready for this. Sunday dinners at the Burrow were overwhelming at the best of times, and right now with everything else going on...
It was just too much.
She took a deep breath, feeling more at ease the farther she wandered away from the house. It was much better out here. Quieter. Calmer. She finally came to a stop and sat down at a tree near the edge of the pond, watching the sun sink lower across the horizon.
“Mind if I join you?”
She startled at the voice, having been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard anyone approaching.
When she turned her head to the side and saw Charlie slowly walking toward her, probably not unlike how he would approach one of his dragons, she couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face. She patted the ground next to her and he took the invitation, sitting with his back against the tree and his legs crossed out in front of him.
“So how did you get elected to be the one to come check on me?” Hermione asked quietly after a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence. Though she did not know Charlie as well as she knew the rest of his family, she had gotten to know him better over the years since the war, bonding over their shared love for magical creatures whenever he was able to make it home for Sunday dinner.
“I didn’t,” Charlie replied, turning his head to look at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I was hiding out in the orchard. I saw you walk by and thought I would see if you could use some company.”
“Why were you hiding in the orchard?”
He chuckled lightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “I love my family, don’t get me wrong, but they can be a bit…”
“Much?” Hermione supplied when he trailed off.
“Quite,” Charlie agreed. He gently nudged her with his shoulder. “Want to talk about whatever is bothering you?”
She meant to say no. That she didn’t want to talk about it. Any of it.
Instead, she told him everything.
It surprised her how easily the words came tumbling out of her mouth. And once she started, she found that she couldn’t stop - that she didn’t want to.
She needed this.
Hermione told him about her struggles at the Ministry. How it was nothing like she had hoped for when she envisioned working there after finishing her final year at Hogwarts. How any proposal she put forward was stopped before it ever got off the ground. How she was frequently laughed at in meetings. How no one in her department actually seemed to care about the magical creatures they were supposed to be protecting.
How her position had been cut from the department a few months ago, without warning, and she had been unable to find another job since.
And that had just been the start of the downward spiral Hermione had been caught in for the past few weeks...
Hermione told him about her parents. Just two weeks ago, the Aurors had finally been able to find them, and for a brief moment, she had thought everything would be okay. But then they told her that the memory charm she used had been too strong. She had been too thorough. That it was irreversible and that her parents would never know their daughter again.
Logically, she knew that this was still better. That it had been necessary, and at least her parents were alive and happy. But that didn’t make it any easier. She had held out hope that she would be able to get them back. Instead, she was grieving a loss that most wouldn’t understand.
Harry and Ginny had tried to get her to talk. But for some reason, she hadn’t been able to open up to them. Not like this. Godric, she hadn’t even told them about her parents.
And Charlie, bless him, just sat there and listened. He let her unload everything on him, sharing her burdens. And it felt good.
They sat in silence for a while after she talked through everything. It took Hermione longer than it should have to notice that Charlie had taken hold of her hand at some point during her story. She looked down at their joined hands and watched as his thumb ran lightly across her knuckles, the gentle touch grounding her.
And that’s when she noticed that something had shifted.
She didn’t feel adrift and aimless. For the first time in months, she felt like she was back in control. Like she wasn’t broken beyond repair. That she was strong and everything would somehow work out, even if things would never be the same. That she would be okay.
She had to be.
“Come back to Romania with me.”
Her head shot up in surprise, her eyes searching for any sign that this was a joke, but she found only warmth and support.
“I suppose it sounds crazy,” he continued quietly, squeezing her hand gently. “But you could stay with me. I have a spare room in my cabin that’s been empty for ages, and I know that we have a few openings in the research department that you would be perfect for...”
Could she? Should she?
Hermione didn’t have to think for long. She nodded, and both her and Charlie’s faces lit up in hopeful smiles.
Maybe this was just what she needed.
A fresh start.