Hermione Granger stood silently at the end of the cobblestone rode, staring up at the quaint little cottage that would be her home for the next three months.

It was perfect – everything Hermione had ever wished for in a summer home. Situated on a lonely hill overlooking a peaceful corner of the famous Loch Ness, the little square cottage was made of stonework and complete with a tiny porch in the front. Germanesque geraniums hung from boxes outside of the little white windowsills, and wisps of smoke were billowing up from the chimney, welcoming her in.

But as Hermione walked up and inserted the heavy brass key into the lock, she knew deep in her heart that it was not complete. This was not how she had imagined it. She and Ron had promised each other that they would one day spend a summer together in Scotland … but now? Was it right of her to fulfil their dream without him?

Closing her haunted brown eyes, the young woman stood there, her hand on the doorknob, thinking – just thinking. Nearly two years had passed since Ron’s death. Surely, surely, she should be moving on with her life. That’s what Ron would’ve wanted, isn’t it?

No, it isn’t. Hermione felt guilty for even thinking this, but she knew deep in her heart that it was true. Ron, no matter how much she had loved him – how much he had loved her – had his flaws. And one of those was his deep jealousy of others, whether it be his brothers or his best friend or any male who happened to catch Hermione’s attention. Ron would have wanted her to be happy … but even more importantly, he would have wanted her to mourn him.

“Well, I have mourned for you, and it’s time for me to get on with my own life!� Hermione spoke the words out loud with more vehemence that she’d intended. Taking a deep, calming breath, Hermione squared her shoulders and pushed open the heavy oak door.

Hermione could not help but gasp in delight at the sight before her. The little cottage was as tiny as it looked from the outside, but somehow snug and complete. The cosy sitting room was furnished with a small coffee table and two sofas clustered about the warm stone fireplace, and a single window overlooked the shimmering, mirror-like lake. There was a small kitchenette situated in the corner of the room, and a short hallway led to the single bath and bedroom. Hermione stepped inside the latter and gasped.

The room was small and quaint, with barely enough room for the bed and a single dresser, but what caught her gaze was the small shape bobbing up and down outside the window.

“Pigwidgeon!�

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The next few seconds seemed like eternity. Hermione stood there, framed in the doorway, heart pounding in her chest and adrenaline pumping through her veins. Forcing herself to take several deep, calming breaths, Hermione walked to the window with measured strides. Throwing it open, she caught the little owl as he zoomed into the room and virtually tore the letter from his leg.

Closing her eyes, the pretty young woman tried to ignore the feathery little cannonball zooming around above her. Hermione felt the parchment crinkle beneath her hands, smelled the familiar scent of an unbroken wax seal. Hardly daring to believe it, Hermione opened the letter and gazed at the single piece of parchment resting in her hands.

It was Mrs Weasley’s writing. Right then and there, Hermione felt her whole world come crashing down on her yet again. What was wrong with her? She, the intelligent and ever-sensible Hermione Granger ... what was she expecting? A letter from Ron? Deep in her heart, Hermione knew that she was.

Two years, two years and Hermione had still not gotten over the loss that had changed her world forever. Understandable, she thought bitterly. But shouldn’t I have gotten used to it? Hermione felt tears spring unbidden to her eyes; brushing them away, she sniffed determinedly and scanned the letter.

Dear Hermione,

I know you asked not to be contacted while you’re on your holiday, but Charlie just found out that he’s going to be in your area this weekend. Apparently a young Welsh Green is expected to hatch this Saturday in a nearby zoo, and they invited Charlie to conduct some research on dragon development. He’s quite excited, but he said that he’d love to take you “behind the scenes� at the zoo, if you’d like. A dragon hatching isn’t something you see every day, and I do hope you’ll take the opportunity.

How are you doing? Arthur and I are as well as can be expected – and oh, I simply can’t keep it a secret longer! Harry came to us today and asked for our permission to propose to dear Ginevra; of course we agreed, we are so excited!
I hope you’re doing well.

Love,

Mrs Weasley

Hermione smiled bitterly as she folded up the letter. Harry had told her of his intentions to marry Ginny before she had left; she was, of course, thrilled for them, but … Could this have been Ron and me?

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The days that followed were pleasant ones.

Hermione thoroughly enjoyed the peace and quiet of the little cottage on the hill. Solitude was not something she was used to, and she felt as though it suited her. She loved being alone, with only her thoughts and her books as company, free to do whatever she wished. Free to sleep, and read … and grieve.

So as the weekend approached, Hermione decided that she was positively dreading Charlie’s visit. True to Mrs Weasley’s wishes, Hermione had sent a letter back agreeing to meet Charlie, but she was beginning to sorely regret it. She and Charlie had never spoken much in the past … what if they had nothing to say to each other, or worse? What if she broke down completely?

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Fifteen minutes into Charlie’s visit, Hermione would have given anything to go back in time and disinvite him.

It wasn’t that Charlie was a bad guy; on the contrary, Hermione found him very nice and just as funny as the twins, but in a much milder and more pleasant way. But the fact remained that the two had nothing in common. It was immediately clear to Hermione that Charlie had something of an unhealthy obsession with dragons; it was all he wanted to talk about. He regaled her with stories and anecdotes of what must have been every dragon he had ever encountered: Chinese Fireballs, Ironbellies, Norwegian Ridgebacks … the list went on. At least it’s better than Quidditch, thought Hermione wryly.

Hermione felt her throat tighten suddenly. She and Charlie were seated across from each other on the cottage’s two sofas, awaiting the owl from the zoo that would tell them when to go. Charlie was halfway through a story about a particularly nasty dragon he had encountered in Romania when he noticed the look on Hermione’s face.

“Are you all right, Hermione?� he asked concernedly, halting midway through his animated gesticulations. Looking genuinely worried, he walked up to her and knelt down beside her.

“He was jealous of you, you know,� Hermione choked out. She didn’t know what made her say it; she really didn’t know. But she couldn’t help herself … “Because of Quidditch. And he was jealous of Percy and Bill for being Head Boy, and of Fred and George for their sense of humour. And of Harry for … for just about everything.�

Charlie’s rugged face stiffened when he realised who Hermione was talking about. There was pain in his warm brown eyes as he asked, “Why are you telling me this?�

“I don’t know,� gasped Hermione. “I don’t know.� And the next thing she knew, she was sobbing all over Charlie’s chest.

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“I’m sorry,� blushed Hermione ten minutes later, her face a shade of scarlet to rival her puffy eyes. “I –� But before she could speak, Charlie had pressed a finger to her lips.

“It’s all right,� he murmured quietly. “I loved him too.� Slowly, tentatively, Charlie reached up to stroke Hermione’s hair –

At that moment, a buff-coloured barn owl soared through the open window and dropped a letter on Charlie’s lap. The young man seized it instantaneously, fumbling with the envelope in his eagerness. Tearing it open, his eyes appeared a blur as he read the letter.

“It’s about to hatch!� He turned to Hermione, eyes shining with anticipation. “Let’s go.�

But his companion just shook her head. “No, I … I don’t think I want to come,� said Hermione in a small voice. “You go ahead.�

Charlie stared at her incredulously. “You’re kidding me, Hermione!� His eyes were shining with passion. “How many times in your life are you going to be able to witness a dragon hatching?�

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Hermione cracked a watery smile. “Been there, done that,� she said dismissively. “Does the name ‘Norbert’ ring a bell?�

For a moment, the second eldest Weasley child looked as though he were locked in some violent internal struggle. Then, he sighed. “Well, then, what are we going to do instead?�

“Beg pardon?� asked Hermione, certain that she had heard him wrong. “What did you say?�

Charlie sighed. Taking Hermione’s hands in his, he looked her earnestly in the eye. “Hermione Granger, you’re on holiday, for goodness sake! And I swear I’ll get you to enjoy yourself and be yourself this weekend, if it’s the last thing I do!�

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After much cajoling on Charlie’s part, Hermione finally grudgingly agreed to leave the cottage with him. But where to go? Recalling the whispered promises she and Ron had made to each other so long ago, she decided in a flash.

“Charlie, let’s go sailing on the lake. I’ve always wanted to see Loch Ness from a Muggle’s point of view, and I think they rent out boats in town.� She smiled playfully. “Who knows, we may even see the Loch Ness monster.�

“Sure!� Charlie was immensely relieved that Hermione had stopped crying, but he looked slightly nonplussed. “But what are you talking about – monster? Here on Loch Ness?�

Hermione was surprised. “You’ve never heard of Nessie?� she asked incredulously. Judging from the bemused look on Charlie’s face, he hadn’t. “The Loch Ness monster is a Kelpie,� she explained, tossing her bushy brown hair over her shoulders and rubbing her eyes. “Muggles have spotted her from time to time, and they really have trouble deciding if she’s real or not.� Suddenly, Hermione’s eyes flashed excitedly. “You know what, Charlie? We should get a Muggle camera and try to take a picture of her!�

Charlie, however, was doubtful. Irresistible though Hermione’s smile could be, the last thing he wanted to do was put her in danger, while he was only trying to cheer her up.

“I don’t know ... Kelpies can be dangerous …� Charlie trailed off, hoping against hope that Hermione would not pursue the issue.

But the young witch was a persistent person, and when her mind was made up she was not about to be swayed. “You work with dragons, for goodness sake!� Hermione smirked slightly, knowing that she had won the argument. “And besides – I feel … safe … with you.�

Charlie felt an unexpected swooping sensation somewhere in his stomach region. Shaking his head angrily to clear it of such preposterous thoughts, he could not help but notice the blush that had crept up on Hermione’s face when she realised what she had said.

She was quite pretty, actually, even with her wild hair and eyes puffy from crying. Charlie could almost see why Ron had loved her. Of course, it was from a strictly observational standpoint. I think.

Charlie was brought back to earth by Hermione’s polite cough. She was looking at him with an expression of mild interest. “Well?� she asked in mock impatience. “Are you ready?�

With a small sigh, Charlie took Hermione’s arm. “We’ll Apparate, then?� he confirmed.

The look she gave him said it all. “We’ll walk,� she reiterated, carefully extricating her arm from Charlie’s. Grinning up at him, she turned and walked out the door, her mane of bushy brown hair sweeping behind her.

Hermione waited at the top of the hill for Charlie to join her. Gazing out at the gorgeous view, she did not turn as she heard the young man move next to her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?� she said softly. “I feel so … free up here. Like I could take off and fly at any moment.� Without thinking, Hermione sat down on the springy young grass and patted the area beside her. “We’re in no hurry, Charlie. We’d might as well enjoy the view.�

A roguish grin playing on his ruggedly handsome face, Charlie made as if to sit down – but, at the last moment, shoved Hermione in the back. The young witch let out a most uncharacteristic screech as she began to tumble down the hill, seizing Charlie’s hands and dragging him down with her.

Seconds later, the two friends lay in a tangled heap at the foot of the hill, their clothes stained with grass and faces alight with the simple pleasure of playing like children, without a care in the world. Blushing slightly, Hermione extricated herself from the floored Charlie before helping him upright. The witch straightened her simple white blouse, trying hard to look unamused.

“I said we weren’t in a hurry, Charlie,� she grumbled, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

But Charlie just grinned, pretending not to see her, as he looked about the grassy knoll they had landed it. The fresh green grass, swaying gently in the breeze, was dotted with wildflowers and extended all the way to the shore of the loch, roughly five hundred paces away. A good distance to the left was the town, a little Muggle village that was probably the only settlement near Loch Ness to remain quiet and tourist-free year-round.

Hermione, indeed, did not seem to be in a hurry. The look on her face was one of absolute bliss as she gazed into the shimmering waters of the lake, eyes shining with a sort of detached beauty that mesmerised even Charlie. Without thinking, the second-eldest Weasley child reached across to brush a blade of grass out of Hermione’s hair. She smiled faintly at the gesture, nodding slightly in thanks.

After a moment of companionable silence, Hermione finally sighed and snapped back to the present. “Well, let’s go,� she said briskly, turning to head toward town. “We haven’t got all day.�

Charlie fell into step behind her, shaking his head and chuckling in disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to understand this girl; one moment she was peaceful and serene, the next back to her usual purposeful self. They walked together in silence until they reached the town.

Charlie lingered behind awkwardly as Hermione headed to the door of a Muggle shop. Maybe she expected him to pay for the goods they were buying? Charlie hadn’t thought to bring any Muggle money, and he was certain that the villagers would never accept Sickles or Galleons. He stuck his hand self-consciously into the pocket of his jeans, hoping fervently that Hermione would enter without him.

However, his wish went unanswered. Hermione stood in the doorway, clucking impatiently with a hand on her hip. Sighing, Charlie stepped forward and joined her in the shop.

Judging by the layers of age-old dust that had accumulated on the various trinkets and items, the cluttered little tourist shop had not seen customers in a very long time. The jangling of the bells above the door had alerted the shopkeeper, a heavyset old man with silvery hair and twinkling blue eyes. Looking quite surprised to see the young pair standing in his shop, he smiled warmly.

“Can I help ye, friends?�

Hermione could not help but laugh the man’s broad accent. “Actually, sir, you can,� she replied, exchanging a quick grin with Charlie. “We’d like to buy a disposable camera of some sort, and we need to know where we can rent a boat to go out on the loch.�

“Ahh, looking for Nessie, are ye?� The man smiled enigmatically before turning around and rummaging through an old box. “There’s a small dock on the other side of town, it’s – ahh, here ye are.� The shopkeeper handed Hermione the neatly packaged camera. “That’ll be ten pounds, lass.�

Hermione deftly dealt out the money and scooped up the camera. Thanking the delighted old man, Hermione walked to the door.

“Come on, Charlie, let’s go! We haven’t got all day.�

But a glimmering something beneath the counter had caught Charlie’s eye. “I – er, I have to go to the bathroom,� he lied quickly. “Go on, I’ll catch up.� Shrugging, Hermione bid the shopkeeper farewell and set out to find the dock.

Charlie watched her go, admiring the way her long brown hair swayed along with her slender body. He sighed. She was beautiful.

“Something tickle your fancy?� Charlie was snapped out of his reverie by the shopkeeper, who was looking at him with a very shrewd and knowing eye. “For the lass, maybe?�

Charlie decided not to deny it. He took a moment to look about the shop, with its narrow aisles and dimly-lit cheap merchandise. But when he could no longer pretend to be interested in posters of “Nessie� and racks of garish old tee-shirts, he finally turned to look at the glass display beneath the counter.

Wiping away dust, Charlie peered down at the collection of gold and silver jewellery, glinting dully in the light given off by the naked bulbs on the ceiling. The young man gazed, mesmerised, at a particularly lovely pendant that dangled from the end of a thin gold chain.

“Excellent choice, lad,� said the shopkeeper, carefully removing the necklace from its case. “Solid gold, and the pendant is in the shape of a dragon-boat – one of the one’s ye’ll be riding in, incidentally. Ye’ll take it, then?�

Charlie smiled wistfully. “I’d love to, sir, but I don’t have any Mugg – any Scottish money. Just this.� Recklessly, he dumped his entire money pouch onto the counter.

The man’s warm blue eyes widened. Pointing to a single Galleon, he nodded. “That’n ‘ll do.�

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Ten minutes later, Charlie had joined Hermione at the dock. She had rented the boat until nightfall, and here eyes were shining with enthusiasm. “Hurry!� she urged, practically dragging Charlie across the dock. “We don’t have that much time.�

As Charlie clambered aboard, he gazed appreciatively at the little vessel. It was long and slender, just big enough for two people, and equipped with a pair of sturdy oars. Although the golden paint was chipping away here and there, the bow of the vessel – shaped like the sinuous neck of a dragon – was virtually identical to the little pendant now resting in Charlie’s pocket.

By the time Charlie had paddled a good distance from the shore, Hermione was convinced that she had discovered the true meaning of bliss. Except for the gentle slap of the oars in the water, the silence was complete. In the distance, the mirror-like surface of the lake was undisturbed ... and around them, gentle ripples broke the crystal-clear water like raindrops on a pond.

If only Ron were here … To Hermione’s surprise, the thought of him didn’t bring as much pain as it used to. The fact that his brother – someone as sweet and caring as Ron, maybe even more so – was here to share this moment with her was … confusing, to say the least.

I can’t be falling for him, thought Hermione desperately. He’s Ron’s brother, for Merlin’s sake! But she knew that that simple fact was not enough to convince her.

The sound of the water slapping the sides of the boat was relaxing, soothing. The sun shimmered of the lake in a mesmerising manner, penetrating Hermione’s drooping eyes and putting her into a kind of relaxed stupor. Unable to keep them open any longer, Hermione slumped backwards, to where Charlie sat behind her. Her head on his chest, the young woman drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Charlie struggled desperately with his emotions as he stopped rowing, unwilling to wake Hermione up. A lovely, intelligent, beautiful woman was here leaning against him, completely peaceful and happy … he should be happy, shouldn’t he? It felt … right, somehow. But at the same time, it felt wrong.

It’s Ron’s girlfriend! a voice in Charlie’s mind was raging at him. Your dead brother’s girlfriend! You can’t get involved with her. That’s treachery! But suddenly, treachery didn’t seem so bad.

Taking care not to awake Hermione, Charlie drew the necklace out of his pocket and struggled to drape it across the girl’s neck. He fumbled momentarily with the clasp, before finally fastening it and heaving a sigh of relief. He let the pendant fall down onto Hermione’s chest, and she shifted slightly as the cold metal came in contact with her skin.

But then a blissful smile crossed Hermione’s face, and – still asleep – she reached out and took Charlie’s rough, calloused hand in her own. Then, snuggling down more comfortably against his shoulder, she began to snore.

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Hermione woke up to the gentle rocking and swaying of the little dragon boat. It took her a moment to realise where she was. When she did, however, she sat up in alarm.

“Charlie!� Her voice was shrill and angry. Her companion, who had drifted off, sat up and rubbed his eyes blearily.

�Yeah, Hermione?� he slurred tiredly. Suddenly, he looked up and swore. “Bloody hell!�

It was night time. The moon had risen, looking for all the world like a silver Sickle in the velvety night sky; and the sky, pockmarked with shimmering stars, glimmered and shone from where it was reflected from the black waters of the lake.

Hermione groaned as she checked Charlie’s watch. “We were supposed to return the boat hours ago! Why didn’t you wake me?�

She’s rather adorable when she’s angry, mused Charlie. But, unwilling to get in the way of her wrath, he held up his hands disarmingly. “I was asleep too! C’mon, take an oar, let’s get back to shore now.�

Hermione started to draw her wand – to propel the boat magically to shore – but lowered it suddenly. Without explaining her actions, she accepted the paddle from Charlie and began rowing steadily towards the bank.

Fifteen minutes later, the two companions reached the dock. Conjuring up a rope with a flick of his wand, Charlie quickly tied up the boat and dumped his entire money bag out inside of it.

“To say sorry,� he said, seeing Hermione raise an eyebrow. “For taking their boat for so long.� Smiling tiredly, the young woman nodded and turned for home.

The pair of them walked together in companionable silence, both shaking their heads at the fact that they’d wasted their entire day on the lake … and at the fact that they didn’t regret it. Their quiet footfalls muffled by the fresh green grass of the meadows, they strolled slowly up the hill to where Hermione’s cottage lay.

Charlie stopped as they reached the porch. He felt a sudden surge of sadness as Hermione turned to face him, an unreadable look on her face.

“I’m sorry you missed the dragon hatching,� she said quietly. Her brown eyes were sparkling, mesmerising, in the moonlight …

“I’m not.� Charlie answered before he could help himself. Taking both of Hermione’s hands in his, he leaned in … they were so close …

“I can’t.�

Hermione’s anguished voice brought Charlie back to the present. Stunned at what had almost happened, he released Hermione’s hands and backed away immediately. His warm brown eyes shone with disappointment, regret … relief?

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, awkward and out of place. When he finally spoke, his voice was husky. “Good. Because … I can’t either.�

Giving Hermione a sad smile, Charlie Weasley raised a hand in farewell and turned to leave, disappearing with a crack halfway down the hill.

Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears. Had she done the right thing? Or had she let her only chance of happiness – her only chance of love – walk away from her? Suddenly she felt something cold and heavy on her chest; looking down, she saw the shimmering golden pendant that Charlie had placed around her neck as she slept. Taking the pendant in her hand, Hermione pressed the cool metal to her lips.

She wasn’t ready; neither was Charlie. But she knew, as long as she wore the necklace, that he would wait. And one day, when they both were ready, Hermione Granger and Charlie Weasley would experience the kiss they had almost shared.