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She watches the smoke curl around his face, white wisps that cover the amber-colored scales and hide warm brown eyes for a moment. The dragon lifts his head from its place on the ground, neck stretching out, as she approaches. Carefully, Hermione reaches an arm out, and when the dragon merely watches her, she strokes over its neck. He lets out a huff, more smoke releasing from its nostrils and mouth.
“You found him like this?”
“Yes, Miss Granger.” There is a group of keepers standing in front of Charlie Weasley’s cabin, all of them holding onto their wands loosely in case of any problems. “When Charlie didn’t show up for his shift, we were worried. A few of us came down and well, we found this guy.”
“And it’s been how long?”
“Three days.”
Three days. Hermione is flabbergasted that it took them this long to call her — or anyone, for that matter. She knows Bill is now on his way, along with Percy, both of whom are listed alongside her name on Charlie’s “in case of emergency” forms.
“And nothing has worked? No spells? No potions? Nothing?”
It’s at that point that the two Weasley brothers appear with a loud crack of apparition. The dragon – Charlie – lets out a rumble and wraps a large hand – paw? – around Hermione. There is movement all around as his brothers jerk in alarm and the keeper team raise their wands. It’s all for naught though. Once Charlie sees his brothers, he calms and releases Hermione from his grasp.
Bill takes one look at the dragon’s eyes and its protective stance around Hermione, and nods. “Well. Let’s get to researching.”
It took them three months to find out an ancient curse was the culprit. It was housed beneath the nest of a Chinese Fireball that Charlie was looking after. He hadn’t known. No one had. Luckily, there was a spell that could right things.
It just needed the right person to cast it.
In the time it took to find the cause of Charlie’s forced transformation, Hermione returned to London, where she continued her work as a Healer. It hurt to be so far away from Charlie, more than usual, since so much was chaotic. She visited the Sanctuary as much as she could, grateful that she knew enough people who could create the portkeys necessary for her quick trips. It had been a week since she last saw him, orange-red scales gleaming in the sunlight and almost glowing under the moon.
So when the Floo call came from Percy, Hermione scrambled to answer.
“Hermione? Hermione!”
“Percy?” She scrambled to kneel at the Floo and stuck her head in. “Is everything alright? What’s wrong?”
“We found it!” Percy was excited. “It’s fascinating, what the curse is. Really interesting. Full of layers. It’s definitely some —”
“Percy!” She was taking in deep breaths. “Will he be okay?”
“Oh. Yes, of course, Hermione. That’s why I’m calling.” He paused and let out a huff. “We need you to come as soon as possible. “The curse was based on a relationship gone wrong and only a soulmate can break it.”
Hermione fingered the mark on her left wrist.
“We’ve told him. Charlie, that is. We’re still not sure if he understands us.”
With a scoff, she muttered, “Of course he understands. He’s not stupid and neither are dragons.”
“But he’s comfortable as always and if you can’t make it out here we can —”
“Give me two days at the most. I just have to make sure someone can cover me at work.”
In the end, it took her 12 hours to get her affairs together and to convince two of her fellow Healers to cover for her. She activated the portkey given to her by the head of the Department of Mysteries and the next thing she knew, Hermione was tumbling over the grassy knoll in front of Charlie.
Even in dragon form, his eyes lit up at the sight of her. He dipped his snout down and nudged at her playfully before he turned his large head to the crowd nearby. Percy was still jabbering away with facts and stories he’d found regarding the curse; Hermione could have sworn Charlie let out a chortle. Unfortunately, it was true, because with the huffing laugh came a fireball the size of her and she only managed to jump away at the last second.
Arms on her waist, Hermione glared up at Charlie, who gave her an apologetic look. She couldn’t hold the stance for long and laughed, rubbing at his scales. “I’ll scold you when you’re human again.”
The problem soon became obvious though — it wasn’t an easy spell. The words were in an ancient language that Hermione hadn’t seen or heard before. None of them had. So she tripped over lettings and accents. At the same time, she struggled with the wand movements. Even so, when she perfected both, it was almost impossible to swirl and flick and slash her wand at the exact syllables of the counter-spell.
Finally — finally — on the third day, when her eyes were falling closed and her words began to slur together, Hermione gave it one last try.
And then Charlie Weasley stood before here.
Naked as the day he was born.
With a yelp of surprise and a determination that no one stare at him for longer than necessary, Hermione ran to him and spun, leaving the others to stare at a now-empty spot on the lawn. She only apparated them into his cabin, just some yards away, but it was enough. The wards on his home were strong, but Hermione sent up an extra silencio — just in case.
“Hermione,” Charlie breathed. His eyes still glowed slightly, the change in him still happening. Wisps of smoke escaped from his mouth when he said her name, something that alarmed him, but Hermione just brought her fingers to his lips. He kissed the pads of her fingertips.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Hermione said.
His mouth was warm, bordering on hot, but Hermione didn’t care. She moved her arms to wrap around his neck, using his body as leverage to lift herself up. Not breaking their kiss, Charlie reached down and lifted her up; her legs circled his torso while his hands cupped the back of her thighs. Within seconds, she was on her back, his familiar bed beneath her. Hermione gripped at his hair when he moved his lips to her neck, his teeth grazing along her skin.
“Missed you,” she gasped out. “Missed this. Missed you.”
“I watched you,” Charlie murmured as he removed her clothing until she was clad only in a bra and a sensible pair of knickers. “Every time you visited. I wanted to hold you, keep you safe.” He hurriedly undid his trousers, touching himself for the first time in months. “Shit, this won’t last long.”
At his words, Hermione laughed, unable to stop herself. Charlie narrowed his eyes at her before he rolled them. One corner of his mouth lifted up into a smirk. She leaned up to kiss it away. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
Their reunion was a tangle of limbs, filled with moans and groans and at one point hisses from Charlie. Later, Hermione would muse that they probably should have waited a bit until Charlie was accustomed to his human form again, but they were desperate and enthusiastic for each other. After they’d finished, and after a much-needed shower and sustenance in the form of actual cooked food for Charlie, they sat on the loveseat in front of the large windows that looked out over the sanctuary. Hermione trailed her fingers up Charlie’s naked chest; he claimed his body temperature was still higher than normal.
“Was it strange?”
Charlie looked down at her, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?”
She huffed, “You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” he said with a laugh. He pressed a kiss to her hair in apology. “I was me, but I wasn’t. I knew what was happening around me, but I didn’t comprehend things normally.”
“You were gorgeous as a dragon,” Hermione informed him. “Not a surprise, I suppose.”
“There’s a compliment in there, I think,” he teased her. When she huffed once more, he slid her onto his lap, rearranging her legs so she was comfortably seated on his thighs. His eyes dropped to her mouth and an idea popped into his head.
Perhaps sparked was a better word.
“What?” Hermione was suspicious suddenly, feeling a crackling energy coming from Charlie.
“Can I try something?”
She trusted him, always had, so she nodded.
Charlie thumbed her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly until Hermione parted her mouth into the shape of an O. Leaning closer, Charlie inhaled deeply, feeling a burning in his throat. He brought their mouths together, tilting his head at just the right ankle.
And exhaled.
Smoke passed from his mouth into Hermione’s, winding its way down her throat and through her body. A sweet smell accompanied it and it made her feel a bit light-headed. With a jolt, Hermione lifted herself onto her knees to press closer to Charlie, to kiss him deeper, to breathe in every part of him.
When they pulled apart, tendrils of smoke continued to linger in the space between them.