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Charlie sat cross-legged in his cabin, breathing deeply. He knew these new breathing exercises were helping because he had been able to actually speak around Hermione this week.
He was calmer and more centered. Of course he was still struggling to carry on a real conversation, which he knew confused her, but he was doing better.
Just a few brief months ago, he had been completely normal around the woman. It was on her last day of training before becoming a full-fledged dragon handler that everything had changed.
One of the Hungarian Horntails had gotten extra stroppy and attacked. Instead of losing her cool like even some of the seasoned handlers had done, Hermione had stood in place as the dragon charged her. When he got close enough, she suddenly ran at the dragon, jumping onto his snout before he could blow fire at her. As the confused dragon pulled up abruptly, she climbed his horns until she was sitting on the creature’s head quite comfortably clinging to a horn even as he tried to shake her off.
She had then started scratching the bugger’s ears and he settled right down. It was the most amazing thing Charlie had ever seen. And the biggest turn-on he had ever experienced.
Rarely did he react to anyone, so the fact that Hermione now had this hold on him… and that the longer he was around her, the more emotional he became about her as well as horny as could be… well, he needed to do something about it. But Charlie couldn’t get his words to come out properly around her. If at all.
Which led to his best friend Sacha suggesting these breathing exercises. He had been pleasantly surprised how much they helped. Not only was he somewhat capable of talking to Hermione again, but his famous Weasley temper had been under control and the dragons seemed to react favorably to this new, calmer Charlie.
Now he just had to tell Hermione how he felt about her. It was time to gather his Gryffindor courage and what brain cells he could bring into her presence and ask her out.
Whistling as he went — because that was a good breath exercise, too, Sacha had told him — Charlie strolled into the paddock where Hermione was working, scrubbing the scales of one of their Opaleyes. Unfortunately for Charlie, the Opaleye was very intrigued by the tune he was whistling… and Hermione was not a bit amused.
As the dragon moved to examine him, Hermione called out, “What the bloody hell are you doing distracting her like that?”
“I didn’t mean to,” he answered.
“You know Opaleyes speak to one another in high pitches. How could you not realize whistling would distract her. Who knows what she thinks you said?”
“It was an accident,” he said calmly, even as the dragon looked decidedly irritated that the whistling had stopped. In fact, she was moving toward him at a fairly alarming speed.
He had never tried anything so foolish, but some part of him decided in that moment that he was going to see if he could impress Hermione the way she had impressed him. The Opaleye was almost upon him when Charlie jumped. He landed right between her eyes as he heard Hermione beginning to shout.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t hear her actual words over the dragon’s roar. It didn’t take long for Charlie to see the flaw in his plan, however. Opaleyes didn’t have horns on their faces the way Hungarian Horntails did. When the dragon shook her head to dislodge him, there was nothing to hold onto and he went flying.
The world spun around him as Charlie flew through the air, then his back landed hard against a rock at the other side of the paddock. It bloody well hurt, but he was moving enough that he knew he was okay — he would just have one hell of a bruise.
“Charlie!” Hermione screeched as she skidded to a stop beside him. Miraculously, the bloody dragon did not respond to that high-pitched noise. “Are you okay?” she asked more quietly as her hands cupped his cheeks and she looked deeply into his eyes. Logically, Charlie knew she was checking his eyes for a concussion, but his heart stopped at how close she was.
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, hoping she might lean in even closer to inspect him.
To his surprise, she didn’t pull back, and her thumbs were petting the sides of his face. “You scared me to death. What made you think you could do that?”
“You,” he answered. “You’re… amazing… and I wanted…” Merlin, he wanted to be able to talk. He took a deep breath. “I wanted to be amazing for you.”
“You’re always amazing, Charlie. Except what you just did. That was foolhardy and ridiculous, you crazy man.”
As she spoke, her face was getting closer to his. She was scolding him, but Charlie found he rather liked it. When her lips were mere inches from his face, Hermione said, “You always have impressed me — don’t make me regret feeling that way.”
“You… what?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“You heard me,” she responded, almost whispering she was so close. Charlie’s eyes widened as she glanced down at his lips for a moment.
Charlie felt like he needed to say something, but he couldn’t, and she was pressing closer, their lips a hair’s breadth apart when a gust of foul-smelling air hit them. Dragon breath, he would know it anywhere.
Gasping, Hermione pulled back, looking straight into the eye of the dragon whose paddock they had seemingly both forgotten they were still in. The Opaleye looked almost amused as she gave a small roar.
Hermione sighed. “I think she wants you to whistle some more. What possessed you to whistle in the first place? You’re not usually so cheery in the mornings.”
“Breathing exercise,” he admitted, taking another deep breath. Their near-kiss had him breathing hard, his body ready for more than conversation.
“Sacha mentioned you had started those to calm down. What I don’t understand is why you needed to calm down in the first place.”
“Well,” he said slowly. “It’s a bit like now. My heart’s racing so fast I can’t think straight and talking is hard.” Another deep breath. In and hold, out and hold.
She looked at him oddly. “Because of the dragon?” she asked.
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. As if dragons could get him so flustered. “No,” he finally told her. “Something much scarier than a dragon.”
“What’s that?”
“Asking out the girl I can’t get out of my head,” he told her, knowing his cheeks were heating as he spoke.
“And whistling was a breathing exercise you needed to do to come see me?” Hermione asked, looking very pleased.
“Yes,” he answered. He was doing well in the conversation as long as he kept breathing.
“Am I supposed to keep waiting for you to ask me or can I ask you?”
Charlie blinked at her. “You want to go on a date with me?”
“Of course,” she told him.
“Even though I can’t string a sentence together with you around?”
“That’s a rather new development,” Hermione answered. “And I always enjoyed conversation up until then. Now that I know you were just impressed… and that you have your breathing exercises to help you out, I think a date is a splendid idea.”
Deep breaths. Charlie grinned. “You’re amazing.”
“Now, let’s get out of this paddock and see if we can see how well those exercises really work.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, though his cock seemed to know the answer.
“I would like to try that kiss we missed. If you can keep breathing through it,” she said, looking up at him coyly.
As it turned out, once there were no dragons watching, they were able to give it a try — with the help of a little more deep breathing and some even deeper tongue.