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“Are you ready?”
Harry Potter, renowned photography and owner of Potter Studios, grinned at his assistant as she stood at his desk with a sheaf of papers in hand. He liked her, the newly-graduated uni student with a keen eye and a mind full of ideas. She’d come to be his assistant by a mutual friend and he was more than happy with her work.
Maybe he’d let her shoot one of the 12 sessions scheduled for the weekend.
“So, this is the weekend?”
Still shuffling through the schedule, Hermione Granger missed the giant grin that spread over her boss’ face. Instead, she fretted over what she was about to do. She knew of the Hogwarts Charity Calendar — who didn’t? It was one of the most popular calendars to ever be printed and sold in Europe, and the last one had been shipped internationally. The racy calendar benefited the boarding school’s scholarship fund, and while she thought it a bit strange, she also knew that sex sold.
And a part of her was excited, while the other half was anxious and worried, because she knew some big names would be coming to the studio over the weekend. She was excited to see Harry work with folks who were more friends than clients. She worried a bit over everything that needed to be done in such a short period of time.
“It will be great,” Harry promised, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. “This will be a great experience for you, something you can add to your CV. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to add something to your portfolio as well.”
Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted to squeal or vomit.
At 8:00 am on Friday morning, Hermione stepped out of a black vehicle, laden down with camera bags. The house — a mansion, really — was one of the few off-site locations they would use for the calendar. Normally, Harry wanted everything done at the studio, but Lee Jordan had also contracted Harry to shoot his next album cover. The performer flew in the night prior from his tour, currently stopped in Singapore, and their entire morning would be done at the private, indoor pool.
Not quite sure what to expect, Hermione was pleased to see that Lee was a simple and sweet man, despite his bigger-than-life personality on-stage. And she’d seen him perform. More than once. She quieted her inner fan the moment he arrived with a single bodyguard and an assistant with a severe look on her face. Lee immediately told Harry his ideas after they’d greeted each other, Harry nodding because he’d already read the multitude of emails from Lee. Hermione had read them as well.
He was easy to work with, and it was obvious that he and Harry were friends. The morning was full of laughter, and the singer brought Hermione into conversation during the shoot. She ignored Lee’s assistant glaring at her when he passed his phone to Hermione with a request to use a particular playlist of his for background music. His entire shoot was three hours long — one hour longer than the schedule said — and he ran off almost immediately after, needing to catch the jet that would take him back to Singapore.
“One down,” Harry told her, a wry smile on his lips, as they packed up. Around them, Harry’s small crew broke down the umbrella lights and wound cables to be packed properly into their cases. “What did you think?”
“He was nice,” she answered honestly. “He went over time.”
Harry laughed while he swung two camera bags over his shoulder, checking the camera in his hand. He handed it to her. “Check the batteries on this one when we get back. And Lee tends to do that. Most of the others should be on track though. Ready?”
Hermione hummed, already looking down at the camera she’d been given. She clicked through some of the photos before powering it down. The camera definitely loved Lee Jordan.
The Weasley were already at Potter Studios when they returned, sprawled out over the couches that clients usually sit on, prim and proper. The receptionist and one of the fall interns were the only other people at the studio, everyone else still making their way back. One jumped up and hugged Harry before he introduced himself as George to Hermione. That meant Fred was the one still lounging on the white sofa, one long leg and arm hanging off and swinging against the floor.
Hermione, of course, knew who they were. They were one of the biggest success stories out of Hogwarts. Despite not attending the school, she’d done her research the moment Sally-Ann introduced her to Harry. The Weasley twins had graduated and promptly opened a small shop to sell trinkets and small inventions of their own. It was something they admitted to starting to annoy their mother, who wanted them in respectable careers.
No one thought anything would come from the shop, not even the twins, but everyone was wrong.
Though the two of them were based in London — and sometimes still manned the register at Weasley’s Wheezes, that now-infamous shop — they travelled the world extensively, visiting the business that were now a part of Weasley Corp. Prop companies for films, an entire line of joke shops, children’s toys, and more, they often topped the list of most prolific entrepreneurs in the world.
That didn’t mean they were stuffy businessmen, something Hermione learned very quickly that afternoon.
Loud and boisterous was the best way to describe the twins in-between takes. But the moment Harry began playing music and had a camera to his eye, they turned into a pair of the sexiest brothers Hermione ever witnessed. They were serious and often stone-faced, despite Harry pleading with them to “just have a bit more fun, fellas, come on.”
“We know what will sell the best,” George said with a wide smile during a short break.
Fred laughed and sent a wink at Hermione, who had blushed more than once during the session. “We’re the forbidden couple, don’t you know?”
If Hermione excused herself to catch her breath after they donned circus ringmaster jackets, she would never actually admit it.
Pansy Parkinson and Adrian Pucey arrived together after dinner. They were, Harry informed her, best friends from their time at Hogwarts. They never dated, no matter how many times the tabloids tried to say differently. They did, however, work well together in the fashion industry.
Hermione was the tiniest bit intimidated by the editor-in-chief of WIX, the #1 fashion magazine in Europe. Pansy had a no-nonsense attitude, and was very particular during the shoot. More than once, Hermione had to rearrange the bed on which the dark-haired woman posed. Pansy wasn't rude, not in the slightest, but she was a bit brash and seemed almost cold to anyone other than her best friend. Even Harry sighed constantly at every minute detail that needed adjusting.
Adrian, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. The head designer of Cobra danced and moved fluidly in front of the backdrop in the far corner of the studio. He had no qualms about his body, Hermione learned, when Pansy handed him a garment bag and told him to humour her. He stripped down to his pants before pulling on the denim trousers and dark grey jumper. Hermione couldn't stop herself from staring as he allowed Pansy to drape a large coat over him.
"Do what needs to be done, darling," Pansy teased him.
She requested the music be made louder. As the volume escalated, Adrian's body rocked to the beat. Pansy laughed when all the women in the room stared at Adrian, entranced, especially when he lifted the jumper.
"Show-off!" Pansy yelled.
Adrian laughed loudly. "You know it."
Cho Chang was scheduled for the first Saturday shoot. Knowing the actress was well-known to be on-time for anything and everything – Hermione could admit to following entertainment news, she arrived at Potter Studios at 8:30, a full half-hour before the photoshoot was set to begin.
The office was quiet when she used her key to enter; of course it was. Hermione went about her business – booting up the main computer, checking the lounge area to make sure the coffee area was well-stocked. It was when she sat down at the front desk that she heard footsteps coming from the back of the studio.
It wasn’t a surprise to her that Harry stayed at the flat above the studio. It was, after all, there for late nights or early mornings. What she wasn’t expecting though, was for Harry to be followed by Cho. The two froze at the bottom of the steps when they saw Hermione, Cho’s cheeks tinting a faint red.
But Hermione just gave them a smile before turning back to the monitor in front of her. “There’s coffee in the lounge. I’m happy to run out if you either of you have a special request or want breakfast.”
A hand settled on her shoulder. She looked up to see Harry giving her a grateful smile. “You’re here early.”
“Long day ahead,” was all Hermione said. Nothing else was necessary. What Harry did on his own time was none of her business after all.
She learned, later on during Cho’s session, that the actress was in town for a small press junket. She’d recently voiced a character in an animated film; she was a bit nervous about it since she’d been tapped to sing for the role as well – not something she’d ever done before.
The session itself was one of the easiest Hermione ever worked. It was a closed set – only she and Harry were there on Cho’s request. With Cho’s permission, Harry allowed Hermione to take a few shots as well, instructing her on a few things as they went. Cho was patient and asked Hermione how long she’d been working with Harry and what type of photography she was interested in shooting. By the end of the session, Hermione felt like she’d made a new friend.
A new friend that deserved privacy with Harry. Hermione walked out of the back room and settled once more at the front desk to allow her boss and the actress some time. If she, herself, flushed red when she heard a gasp and a distinct moan coming from the room, she never brought it up again.
If Cho’s session was the easiest, the next two photoshoots were some of the most stress-inducing ones Hermione had ever worked. The two sessions were purposely scheduled for two hours each with two hours of a break in-between – more than enough time that the individuals should never have crossed paths. It was done purposely, with Harry explaining that he hadn’t even wanted to shoot the two on the same day, but their schedules dictated otherwise.
When Hermione asked why, Harry exhaled slowly and loudly. “They dated during their last year and when they left, before either of them became very famous. Their break-up was… Less than ideal for everyone around them.”
Hermione racked her brain and breathed out an “Oh” when she realised who of the photo subjects it had to be.
Supermodel Fleur Delacour, who transferred to Hogwarts for her final two years of schooling, arrived late, almost a full hour late. She also hadn’t been ready , instead having her hair and make-up team with her. She seemed a bit flighty and was distracted during the shoot, often choosing to flirt with an equally-attractive male model she’d brought with her.
“Will you take some of us together?” she’d asked Harry in her French accent. She batted her lashes and gave him a coy grin. Harry tried to refuse, saying he had another session. Fleur would have none of it. “But we are friends, non? And of course, I will pay you for your time and the photos.”
Because they were friends, and because Harry could be a pushover, he agreed and took a few racy photos of the couple. Most of the staff turned away when the two began snogging and hands started to wander.
“I think we’ve got it,” Harry said, attempting to keep his voice even.
“Yes, I’d say you did,” someone sneered from behind Hermione.
She jumped at the new and unfamiliar voice, turning quickly to find Viktor Krum in the doorway of the studio. A quick glance at her watch told Hermione he was slightly early.
“Mr. Krum,” Hermione greeted him. “You’re a bit early. Can I offer you a drink? Coffee? Water? Tea?”
“Early is on-time,” he said gruffly. He looked down at Hermione, then, and his gaze sharpened on her before he broke into a wide grin. “You are new? I am Viktor. I will have a water if you will join me.”
Hermione glanced at Harry who stood nearby. Having heard Krum, he nodded his chin at her to go with the man, before he tilted his head toward Fleur, silently saying he would get her out. Hermione was fine with the plan – Fleur had been difficult to work with and she was flippant toward Hermione who was just doing her job.
So she led Viktor into the staff lounge, bending over to grab some bottles of water from the beverage cooler. When she straightened and turned, it was to see the rugby player staring at where her butt had just been. She cleared her throat, making him snap his eyes up to her face. He smiled at her, a flirty turn of his lips, completely unapologetic.
“So,” he began. “You are new?” He repeated his question from earlier.
“Fairly new,” she answered as she handed him the water. She watched as he twisted the cap off and drank, his throat tensing as he swallowed.
“You like it?” Despite his time in England, the athlete still had the accent of his beloved Bulgaria. “Harry is good man. He treats you well, yes?”
“Of course,” she said.
Before the conversation could go any further, Harry poked his head in. “Viktor? We’re going to shoot you on the balcony today if you’re good with that.”
“Ya, of course,” Viktor replied. “You need me there now?”
“If you can. Some of my guys are setting up the lights but we want it to look a bit more natural, so they may need to adjust for you.”
“Sure.” Viktor abruptly took Hermione’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I hope to talk to you later.”
When he left, Harry gave her a knowing grin. “You know, I don’t have any clauses for fraternisation with clients.”
Hermione let out a peal of laughter, “Well, considering what I saw this morning.” She gave Harry a small smile then. “I would never say anything. Not just because you’re my boss —”
“I know,” he reassured her. “Now come on. Do you want me to ask Viktor if he needs someone to oil him?”
“Harry!”
And while she did not oil up Viktor Krum’s very fit body, she did almost drop one of the battery packs she was holding when the man turned and gave her a wink.
Harry sent his staff home earlier, made sure he and Hermione ate a quick dinner, and then led Hermione to his car, asking once more if she was sure she wanted to do the final shoot of the day. The session had a note on the calendar that read “Private. Harry only. Possibly HG.”
“Of course,” Harry said with a bit of mirth in his tone. He held the passenger side door open for Hermione before shutting it firmly and going around to the driver’s side. “Despite the paparazzi that follow them, the Malfoys are incredibly private.”
The Malfoys.
When she was 19 years old, Astoria Greengrass was part of Amortential, a girl pop group meant to go up against the boy bands of the decade. The group had been doing well, off on multiple international tours, rising to the top of every feasible music chart. Then there was a press conference and she announced she would be striking out solo.
The paparazzi, the tabloids, every media outlet — they went crazy at the news. Rumours soon erupted that her new venture was due to Draco Malfoy, the rising football star from Wiltshire. It was said he would easily make the National team, and he did, leading them to victory after victory. He was also besotted with the young lady who’d been behind him in school only two years. They hadn’t known each other then, and had only met after Astoria’s rise to popdom.
The drive to their estate was just under two hours. Despite the long journey, there was no way Hermione was going to miss the chance to see the famed Malfoy Manor and meet two of her idols. Still, she remembered what Harry had said before they left London. “They’re really okay with me coming even though they’ve never met me?”
The tall, wrought-iron gates opened after Harry stopped at the security booth. “They trust me. They know I would never bring anyone who would harm them.”
There were dozens of people inside what Harry called Malfoy Manor. Hermione soon learned they were a mix of personal assistants, hair and make-up teams, security, and friends. In the middle of them all were Draco and Astoria Malfoy.
Draco was as gorgeous in person as he was on a football field or in magazines. He’d given Harry a handshake and slap on the back, before he turned to Hermione with a somewhat shy smile and a kiss on her knuckles. Hermione stammered out a “Nice to meet you” before Astoria swept in, admonishing Draco for flustering their guest. Ever the consummate host, Astoria asked if they needed anything after such a long drive and “Thank you so much for coming all this way, Harry, truly.”
Hermione was not too proud to admit she was a bit starstruck by the both of them.
Soon, Astoria began to release everyone present – thanking the beauty teams “for staying later than usual. Your work is much appreciated,” and promising to call friends before the next weekend. With ease and perfection, Astoria bid everyone at the Manor good-bye until only one security guard — Marcus, who’d been with Astoria since her days with Amortential — and Draco’s commercial agent and best friend, Blaise, remained.
Harry took Hermione aside under the guise of going over which cameras he wanted to use, but he looked at his assistant directly and said firmly, “I know I don’t have to remind you of this. You’ve been a great asset to my studio and I trust you more than most assistants I’ve had. But whatever you see tonight is private and should never be discussed.”
“Of course.” Hermione tried not to feel offended. She’d never once given Harry a reason to question her.
He gave her a smile. “I just have to say it, Hermione. There’s a reason they asked for this to be done at their home. They don’t often feel safe out there. I know this isn’t a normal job, but you need to understand how big it is that you are here, inside their house –”
“This is a house?” Hermione mumbled.
“– and how unconventional it is that you are here for this particular shoot.”
“Okay, okay,” Hermione said, raising her hands in the air. “I get it. And Harry, I’ve always been professional. Viktor Krum and his flirting notwithstanding.”
It was soon easy to see why there were less than a handful of people allowed in the photoshoot. Draco was the one who spoke to Harry, though Hermione was keen to pay attention. It wasn’t the first time the two had worked together; the level of trust Draco had in Harry was high, especially with these types of racier shoots.
“Relax,” Harry interrupted the blond man. “Breathe. You two lead the shoot. I’m just here to capture it. Like always, Malfoy.”
“Darling, stop fretting.” Astoria looped her arms around her husband’s waist from behind him. She’d taken off her robe, leaving her in a tight black dress that accentuated every curve of her body. Blood red nails raked over Draco’s shirt, a hand disappearing between two buttons. “Come with me.”
What Hermione witnessed next was something so incredibly intimate, she thought she should turn away and give them privacy. The couple were practically in their own world, flirting and teasing, and looking absolutely beautiful together. Harry kept circling around them, his finger pressing the shutter every few seconds. Once, Astoria looked over her shoulder to ask Harry a question, who only laughed and nodded in response.
Later, on the drive back to London, Hermione thanked Harry for the experience. “I get it now, the two of them.”
Harry only smiled before dropping her off at her flat with a reminder of the early call the next day.
“One chai latte with soy.”
Hermione gratefully took the steaming cup from Harry’s hands. His voice was gravelly, his green eyes blinking sleepily at her, even as he turned to unlock the studio doors. Despite having returned to London after midnight, the two were at the studio at 5 am to make sure everything was ready before the 6:00 shoot.
It was far too early, even for Harry who had grown accustomed to odd hours. This was unusual, even for him.
But Neville Longbottom was scheduled to leave for Geneva that morning to present his most recent findings at the World Health Organization headquarters at lunch. Today was his only availability, Harry told her that Neville – a dear friend, once his roommate – had been part of the charity calendar since its inaugural year and he didn’t want to break his streak.
Hermione set up the umbrella lights, and made sure the backdrop was still free of any creases or wrinkles. One of the interns had steamed the fabric the day before during the Fleur-and-Viktor fiasco, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that it still looked good.
Neville knocked on the studio doors at precisely 5:57 am. His wife, a lovely blonde woman named Hannah, arrived with him. She fussed over his clothing when he came out of the dressing room, making sure he was presentable. Hermione couldn’t help but giggle when Hannah whispered to her that he would be wearing the same thing for his presentation — only with a buttoned shirt beneath.
They were there for less than an hour when Hannah stood from the couch near the front of the studio and tapped her watch. It took ten minutes for Harry to wrap up, Neville to change into something more comfortable for the flight on a private jet, and then they were gone.
Hermione ran and fetched some bagel sandwiches for herself and Harry, and the two ate at the front desk. Schedules were printed and Harry disappeared into his office to make sure all the photos from the night prior and the morning session with Neville were downloaded properly. He wouldn’t start editing until all the shoots were done.
By the time it was 8:30, more staff came in. It was more than the usual morning crew as they worked to turn one of the studio rooms into a bedroom set for Theodore Nott.
Theo, Harry informed Hermione, moved to America for Columbia’s MFA Writing Program after Uni in Italy. He stayed there after completing the program and was now the newly-named State Poet of New York. It was something to be celebrated, and Harry made an off-hand comment about a few friends possibly gathering back at Malfoy Manor during the week, since it was Theo’s first time back in England after his appointment.
The man was extremely attractive. Calm and even a bit shy, Theo followed directions well. Once again, Harry asked Theo if he would allow Hermione to take a few shots — definitely for her portfolio, possibly for the calendar — and Theo gave her a sweet and slow smile as he said, “Sure, of course. Maybe for my new headshot.”
Determined to have a thicker portfolio than ever before, Hermione moved around the bed where Theo lounged, an open window at his back. Harry followed her at a bit of a distance, ready to help or instruct, but not wanting to hover.
“Do you mind sitting up?” Hermione asked, peeking over the camera. “I’d like to use the window as a frame.”
With a nod, Theo did as she asked, before he paused her and requested he wear a shirt. “I really do need a new headshot.”
They worked together, and in the end, Theo thanked Hermione for being patient with him. He wasn’t used to having his photo taken, joining the calendar for the first time this year. Even when he was finished, he asked if it would be alright for him to stay and chat a bit while she worked. Harry nodded, giving permission once he saw Hermione didn’t have a problem either.
While Hermione swapped out two of Harry’s cameras and checked the settings — especially the white-balance, knowing what the next shoot would be — Theo stood at her side and asked questions, about where she went to school, what her plans were for her career. He answered her questions as well, about moving to New York, what it meant to be the State Poet, and more.
Then the door opened and he fell silent.
In walked Luna Lovegood. An artist, Luna was as well-known for her political demonstrations as she was for her innovative and sometimes-controversial works of art. She breezed onto the set — now a floral area waiting for someone to play in it.
“Luna!” Harry said her name cheerfully and swept her into a hug.
“Hullo, Harry,” she said in a soft, tinkering voice. As soon as she was on her feet again, she began disrobing. “Are we almost ready to begin?”
“We just need to check some lighting, especially with the backdrop you requested. Feel free to arrange yourself how you’d like.” Harry motioned Hermione over. “This is Hermione, my assistant. Let her know if you need any help.”
“I’ll need help,” Luna agreed. “But I think you’ll need Hermione more than me. The bulbs in your spotlights are too bright. Is that Theo Nott?”
Theo walked over and took her hand, not the least bit concerned the woman was topless. “Miss Lovegood, it’s been quite some time since I last saw you.”
“Hmmm,” she hummed. “Yes. Come. I need help with the flowers I want on me.”
The two walked onto the drapery, while Hermione cursed when she realised Luna was correct and the bulbs were too white for the soft look Harry wanted. She remembered that the white lights were supposed to be for the final shoot and was soon swapping the stands with the help of staff. By the time the lights were switched, they were running behind, but Harry said he’d work with Luna, and could Hermione please make sure everything was ready in Studio B for their final shoot.
Of course, she said yes.
December. The final photoshoot.
To get in the mood, Hermione put on her favourite Christmas song on repeat while she made sure the set was complete. The notes for the last session told her they would be doing some simple photos, but also a few with props. The final Hogwarts alum that was coming in was known to have a good time for the calendar and was willing to do anything.
Another Weasley. Dr. Charles Weasley though his social media said he liked to go by Charlie.
The veterinarian started at a local office out of veterinary school, but wanted to go bigger, do more for the animals that were often overlooked. So against his mother’s wishes — Hermione was starting to think all of the Weasley children liked to go against their mother’s wishes — Charlie joined a group of veterinarians on a safari trip where they did all they could to help bigger wildlife. He’d documented his entire trip, uploading videos and even doing some live Q&A when he had the time.
His follower count skyrocketed.
The popularity he amassed was incredible, especially in such a short time. After a few years travelling the globe, doing veterinary work and continuing his documentaries on exotic animals, he settled in Romania, buying enough land to build a sanctuary for those exotic animals he loved so much.
Hermione knew all of this because she followed him on social media, had watched all of his documentaries and videos, and was a fan of his work. It helped that he was incredibly attractive, and his love for animals just made him even more enticing.
“Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe,” Hermione sang softly as she made sure the Santa set was ready. “Will help to make the season bright.”
“Ugh, not this god-awful song,” a voice boomed from the doorway.
Caught off-guard, Hermione shrieked and spun, but lost her balance, which sent her toppling over onto the large plastic reindeer that had previously been balanced atop fake cottony snow. To make matters worse, all Hermione heard was a loud and rumbling WOOF before a white-haired wolf was staring down at her, blue eyes seeming to glow.
This is where I die, Hermione thought.
“Nia, heel. ”
The dog disappeared, its tags jangling slightly under the croon of Nat King Cole’s voice. Hermione struggled to sit upright again, jolting once more when a hand appeared at eye level. Her gaze trailed up the arm and onto a handsome face that made Hermione’s heart beat faster. Warm brown eyes looked at her in concern.
“I’m sorry. Nia gets a bit excited sometimes.” Another bark came from the dog. “She’s friendly, really.” Another woof, more drawn-out like the dog didn’t agree with her owner. “Hush, Nia.”
Hesitantly, Hermione slid her hand into the man’s, hauling herself up when he closed his fingers over hers. Next to him, his dog barked again but at least its tail was wagging. “Dr. Weasley — right?”
There was literally no one else he could have been. Hermione knew this, knew exactly what he looked like, but the words tumbled out of her mouth. Luckily, he smiled and squeezed her fingers lightly before letting go.
“You can call me Charlie. And this is Nehalennia. Nia, for short.”
“Celtic goddess,” Hermione murmured. Then his words for earlier hit her. “This ‘god-awful’ song? This is a classic. ”
“It’s boring. ”
“How dare you –”
“Met each other then, have you?” Harry strolled into the studio, head still bent over his camera. “How are the pets, Charlie?” Nia gave a bark. “Oh, trust me, Nia. I heard you earlier.” As he passed, he let a hand drift down to scratch the top of the wolf-like dog’s head. “Hermione, turn off this Christmas music. It’s November, for crying out loud, not even the right month yet.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said with a laugh.
“You two are such Scrooges,” Hermione huffed out, but she turned off the music anyway. “Happy?”
“Immensely,” Charlie and Harry said together.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione turned and righted the reindeer once more, though she gave it a severe look. “Harry, is this set really necessary? It seems a bit… Much.”
“It’s a back-up,” Harry confessed. “Based on requests that came in for the calendar, we know Charlie doesn’t need anything extra, but…”
“I’m always the experiment?” Charlie laughed. “I don’t mind.”
And he didn’t. Hermione watched as he moved easily, flawlessly, like he was an actual model rather than a lover and healer of animals. His shirt was unbuttoned, fabric fluidly moving around him. When he moved one side of his shirt back, Hermione saw black ink over his right rib cage, stark lines that she soon realised formed the head of a lion. She knew of the snake and flock of birds on his forearm, but she thought those were his only tattoos.
Wow.
Nia let out a bark and stood at the door that led out onto a balcony. Charlie looked over and called a stop to Harry with an apology. “Sorry, man. I have some puppy pads –”
“I can put them out,” Hermione interrupted. She waved a hand, “So you don’t have to stop. Just let me know where they are.”
As soon as he told her, Hermione grabbed a couple and then stepped out onto the balcony. She took a deep breath as she laid down the pads, settling a chair on its edge and then some rocks so they wouldn’t blow away. She turned to open the door again, this time to let the dog out. Collapsing on the chair, Hermione absently stared at the dog as she did her business, but her thoughts were on the man inside.
Get it together, Granger, she berated herself. She’d had some moments with the other celebrities — Viktor’s number scrawled onto a piece of paper still sat at her kitchen counter at home — but watching the vet was seriously making her question her professionalism.
“Okay, calm down. He’s just another man. A hot one, but still just a man. And he hates your favourite Christmas song!”
Woof.
Hermione looked down at the dog, who now sat in front of her, wagging its tail. “Are you arguing for your owner or agreeing with me?”
Woof.
“Fantastic.” Hermione sighed. “Alright, let’s go back in. And I will be professional. Stop giving me that look, Nia.”
Except when she walked back into the studio, all the air left Hermione’s lungs. Harry and Charlie were talking casually, obviously taking a break, but Charlie was now shirtless. He’d changed into a pair of red trousers, kept his shoes off, and he was wearing a Santa hat.
“Hermione!” Harry called out her name and beckoned her over. “Charlie and I were talking, and you’re right. The sleigh and reindeer — it’s all a bit much,”
“Too cliche,” Charlie added.
“Right. So we think something a bit simpler would work. Charlie agreed to pose for you if you’d like.”
It was another great opportunity for her portfolio, but all Hermione said was, “That’s the Weasley’s Wheezes logo.”
Charlie glanced down at his right bicep, grinning and turning it to face her. “Sure is. The twins were shocked when they first saw it.”
Feeling Harry nudge her towards a table that had two cameras resting on it, Hermione walked over and chose one. The settings on them should have been correct, but she checked them just in case, as she asked, “So you’re close to them? They were here a couple of days ago.”
“Oh, I know.” There was something in his tone that made Hermione look up. “Fred couldn’t stop talking about Harry’s new assistant.”
She looked up from the camera, cheeks flushing. “Me?”
Harry chuckled, sharing a look with Charlie. “I don’t have any other assistants, do I?” He pushed Charlie onto a cleared-out area of the set, and waved Hermione over. “Let’s see what you two can do together, yeah?”
For some reason, all three of them had a feeling Harry wasn’t just talking about the photos.
“Hermione? Hello?”
A figure clad in a too-large hoodie ran down the hall, through the kitchen, and into the living room, where it vaulted into arms that dropped everything to catch her. Also scampering into the room was a white dog, an oversized tri-coloured puppy, and an orange cat who stayed pressed against the wall.
“You’re here!” She buried her head into the crook of Charlie’s neck, breathing him in, relishing in the feel of his arms around her. “I missed you.”
“Did you?” he murmured. Charlie shifted and propped Hermione onto the credenza near the door. His hands moved to lift her head from his shoulder and cupped her face. “Yet, here you are in my home without me.” He leaned down, kissing her firmly. “As you should be.”
She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He’d been badgering her to come visit the Sanctuary, and when they’d finally booked her flight, he had been derailed in Egypt on an animal rescue. Instead of paying the exorbitant airline fees to rebook, he told her to come, to stay at his place. Though wary — they’d been “together” since the photoshoot, but in those six months, it had mostly been long-distance — Hermione agreed and had been waiting for him for almost two weeks.
“It’s a good thing I have an open-ended ticket,” she said.
“I’m hiding us away,” Charlie stated.
“You have appointments,” Hermione laughed. “I looked at your schedule, and I’ve become great friends with Dora.”
Charlie groaned. “I should have known. You two will be menaces together.”
Woof.
Charlie froze. “That… Is not Nia’s bark.” He looked at his dog and cat, and found a puppy he’d never seen before. But who looked familiar, at least in breed. “Hermione.”
“Dora was called out on an emergency and they were breeding and raising dogs to fight! So many of them were hurt and had to be put down. They found this one in a small cage with three others!”
Slowly, Charlie pulled away from Hermione to squat down. The pup scrambled over to him, knocking into Charlie’s knees. It took two hands to lift him up to face level, where Charlie studied him closely.
Again, he said, “Hermione.”
“I maybe named him Atlas,” she confessed in a rush.
“Hermione, this looks like a Caucasian Ovcharka.”
“Um,” she hedged. “That’s what Dora said.”
Standing back up, he cradled the dog in his arms, and stared at Hermione, who slipped off the credenza. “You realise how big these dogs get, yes?”
“You have… All this space…”
Charlie stared at her with a single raised eyebrow.
“I can’t bring him back with me. He wouldn’t fit in my flat!”
“So you do kno–”
“And I was debating letting go of my flat anyway,” she said in a rush. She wrapped her arms around Charlie’s waist when he froze. “Because I have this boyfriend? And he keeps saying I should move to a whole new country to be with him.”
“Hermione.” This time, her name was said softly.
“So maybe you could… Keep Atlas? And also have me?”
Atlas let out a high-pitched bark when Charlie practically dropped him to pull Hermione in tight. “Seriously? This is real? You’re going to –”
“Leave almost everything I know and attempt to find photography work in Romania so that I can be with you?” Hermione took a deep breath. “Yes.”
His kiss was deep, hard, and all Hermione could do was hold onto his shoulders so she didn’t fall over. She moaned as her back arched, as he buried a hand in her hair and tugged. By the time he pulled back, she was breathing heavily and felt almost dizzy.
“I could kiss Harry right now.”
Hermione’s head shot up. “Excuse me?”
“That photoshoot.” Charlie lifted Hermione, made her wrap her legs around his waist so he could walk them toward his bedroom. “It was all him and Fred, you know.”
“Him and Fred, what ?” She was bewildered.
“They talked you up so much after that first day when Fred and George did their shoot. Fred wouldn’t shut up about how perfect you’d be for me. He brought in Harry.”
“Seriously?”
“There’s a reason he told you to shoot when I took my shirt off.”
Hermione laughed, a happy and loud sound that bounced off the walls as they entered the bedroom. “Of course there was. Of course.”
"I'm glad you were there," Charlie said, setting her down. He trailed his fingers over her collarbone.
She shivered. As she walked backwards, she grabbed Charlie's shirt to pull him along with her. "That photoshoot was the best thing I did last year."
"Me too."
