He reappeared just down the road from the Burrow. He needed to come home. He needed to provide the extra support to a mother who had lost two sons and a daughter. His family needed him. He also needed to come home.
Year after year, Charlie Weasley was still being sought after by the best Quidditch teams in Great Britain. He couldn’t explain why he’d finally accepted, other than the feeling in his gut that told him it was simply time.
His room hadn’t changed much. The bed was still in the same spot, same bedspread. The same book was on the night stand. The curtains were still drawn open. He dropped his traveling bag on the floor at the foot of his bed, and then crossed over to the window. He put his hand on the string to release the drape and let it cover the view and close his room to the world.
But the moonlit garden was not empty as he expected it to be”there was someone down there, embracing the crisp September night air as if it were summer again. Charlie could not make the figure out, but he found his curiosity take hold of him, willing him to discover who the lonesome figure could be.
Hermione already knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, and the house seemed to stuffy. It was too full of memories. At least out here in the garden the memories could dissipate into the great void. Out here, the memories always seemed to encompass more people as well - there was that lovely evening before the Quidditch World Cup with all of the Weasleys, her, and Harry; Bill and Fleur's wedding, etc.
She was surprised, but.... relieved when someone plopped down next to her on the swell of the hill. The weather beaten features, the stocky build, the awkwardly unfamiliar air - anything was a comfort at this time, and she’d always liked Charlie.
“Hermione Granger,” he smiled. “It’s a beautiful night, but what are you doing out so late? It’s well after midnight.”
“Escaping the house.”
They didn’t say anything for a while. They simply gazed at the sky, the way the moonlight bathed the trees and grounds around them, and then Charlie noticed that Hermione’s eyes were sparkling with tears and she saw him watching her instead of their surroundings.
“I miss them. It doesn’t seem right to be having a birthday without them. I’m moving forward in my life, and they’re dead.”
Charlie’s heart ached, and he didn’t want to talk or hear about the losses, but he knew it would be better for him in the future. Wounds left untreated were more likely to scar the soul. So he let Hermione talk, and he listened, because he knew that they both needed it.
She told him about every step of the way on their long journey to destroy all of the Horcruxes and, ultimately, defeat Voldemort. She spoke of Ginny’s death first. Then of Ron. They both cried bitter tears, and at this point, he brought her into his arms, hoping to comfort her, comfort them both.
Then she talked about sitting for days at Harry’s bedside at St. Mungo’s. Only seven days. Then Harry joined all of the loved ones that he’d lost.
She even told Charlie about Percy, and why he still wouldn’t swallow his pride and come back to his family.
Charlie had lost so much time with his family, and they hadn’t informed him of so much of what had happened. Yes, they told him about the things of the most importance, but after Hermione filled in the details of the big events, he asked her to tell him about the rest. He wanted to know about the time when Fleur showed up, a month after her wedding, in tears. So Hermione told him about Mrs. Weasley comforting Fleur, wiping her tears, and then nearly hexing Bill in anger when he showed up, giving him quite the lecture about being a good husband.
She told him about Fred and George’s Christmas present to their father: a set of something called 'Pokemon Cards' which had no actual use... much like the other things Mr. Weasley collected. But they were snappy colors.
They walked for a while and then sat again, and when Hermione’s voice became a bit hoarse from all the storytelling, Charlie took over. He told her about what it was like to grow up as a child in a wizarding family. He told her what it felt like to play Quidditch, to soar through the air, your adrenaline pumping in a game, and your mind focused on all the aspects of play, strategy and teamwork. He told her about working with the dragons in Romania, and why he’d gone there in the first place.
Hermione felt so connected to Charlie when he was listening to her, and she felt drawn into him completely when he talked, and when they sat in silence for a while, she felt that it was completely entrancing. When he at last brushed a hand across her cheek, calloused as it was, she leaned into his caress. He guided her head gently toward his own, and he met her lips briefly.
He kept his eyes open to watch her reaction. Her eyes fluttered closed.
Just one kiss. Then he held her through the sunrise.