Title: Practical Observation
Author: silvernatasha
Characters/Pairings: Charlie Weasley/Lavender Brown
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Tattoos
Other Warnings:
Word Count: ~5,200
Summary/Description: The Ministry sends someone to look over the Welsh dragon reserve. But dragons aren't the only thing she's interested in looking at.
Author's Notes: Thanks to plum177 @ LJ for beta-ing for me.

"Alright, gents." Dewi Jones cast a glance around the room, letting out a whistle when a couple of people failed to pay immediate attention. "Ladies," he mocked, trying to break through the gossip.

Charlie looked up from his magazine and the topless blonde on the page who was pouting her lips at him seductively. He flipped an obscene gesture at his boss and got one back in return. A few chuckles rumbled around the room, punctuated by the clink of a couple more beer bottles being opened.

"I've been trying to persuade the Ministry otherwise, but it looks like we're going to have a someone from Control poking around the reserve for a couple of weeks. They'll be here on Monday, so best behaviour. Make sure they don't get mauled. Or eaten." His weathered face grew serious. "The insurance will cover it, but the Ministry don't really like it when we send visitors home with missing limbs."

Geoff waved his hand in the air. "How is Pete, anyway?"

"They couldn't grow his foot back," Dewi admitted. "But he's going to be fine. Already tried it on with three of the Mediwitches, from what I hear." Pete had never been lucky with ladies or dragons. His accident was a damn shame, but considering the way he'd conducted himself when he was working with the dragons, it had been bound to happen eventually. "I don't think he'll be coming back here."

"Can't imagine why," Charlie remarked dryly. "What with the gorgeous weather and lovely locals." It was said with a strange sort of love. Wales was not his favourite place in the world, but it was close. This was where he had started his career studying dragons after he had left Hogwarts when Dewi had taken a chance on him. With Professor Kettleburn's help, he'd been able to persuade the weathered wizard that he was serious about magizoology and intended to make a career out of it. Charlie may have gone off to Romania for a few years, but after the war had ended he had found himself back here, older, wiser and further up the food chain, so to speak.

"Just keep an eye out for our guest." Geoff raised his voice to be heard above the babble of chatter that rose up. "Shouldn't be too disruptive. She'll be gone soon." He paused, then added, "We're putting her up in the spare room. Someone better clean the bathroom this weekend."

A babble of chatter rose up when the front door banged shut behind Dewi as he left. Smirking, Geoff leant forward. He took a swig of his beer. "Right, bets are open, gentleman. First one to shag the Ministry drone?"

"What if she's ancient?" Paul asked.

"How old is too old?" Geoff countered, rubbing a hand over his current attempt to grow a beard.

Donna tossed an apple core at Geoff. "What if she's gay?" She smirked.

"Then she's all yours, love." Geoff's leer made her visibly shudder.

"What if she's just not interested?" Charlie asked tiredly, closing his magazine. A curvy brunette graced the cover this month, her ample charms barely covered by something lacy and black.

"Whatever." Shrugging, Geoff took a fresh roll of parchment from the new wizard who was apparently being trained to be his protégé. The women of the world probably didn't have much to fear. "Not going to put yourself forward, Weasley?" He shifted on the couch, pulling a stubby pencil from the pocket of his robes. "Or are you getting too old?"

"Fuck off. I'm never going to be old." Charlie sat up, magazine already pinched by another wizard. He glanced over his shoulder, not too bothered. Hopefully someone would get some good use out of it - pictures were never as good as the real thing for him. It had been months since he'd had anything other than his own hand, too. Charlie had long since lost interest in the girls from the small village near the reserve. The dragons were frankly more interesting than the locals - they always were.

"Alright. Put my name down." Charlie still had his pride.

Paul leant over the back of the couch, slapping Charlie on the shoulder in what was supposed to be a sympathetic manner. "Not going to happen, old man. You can try, but you'll be out of luck." He grinned, revealing that he was still missing a couple of teeth from an accident a couple of days prior. It was rare that the staff were all completely healthy and uninjured at the same time.

"I don't see the point in trying."

Geoff waggled his pencil between his finger. "Haven't noticed the girls flocking around you lately, Weasley. I reckon you've lost your touch."

Charlie shook his head. He wasn't sure that he'd ever really had much of a touch. Dragons were his life's work and before that it had been Quidditch. Girls had always come a rather distant second. Maybe even a third.

He pulled his feet from the low table that was scattered with empty bottles, discarded newspapers and other detritus, his boots landing heavily on the floor. "Right, bed for me. Some of us have got to be up early."

Geoff wrote his name beneath Charlie's in his scratchy handwriting. "Not our fault you're writing about something to do with... whatever it is you're studying. You're getting old and boring."

Charlie grinned, standing up. "And that's why you've never been published."

"Been years since you were published," Paul said glibly, sliding over the back of the couch and into Charlie's vacated seat with a grunt. "You really have lost your touch."

The stairs creaked beneath his feet as Charlie made his way up to his room in the old stone house that housed he and several of his colleagues on the reserve. A cluster of these cottages made up the lodgings for the staff, but this particular one seemed to be the congregation point for much of their socialising.


There was no escape from the August humidity in his room. Charlie opened the window. Immediately poking his head out, he looked skywards, hoping that there would be a storm soon. Even the dragons were starting to feel disgruntled with the weather of late. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving his cigarette box. Charlie lit up from the tip of his wand, taking a long drag and letting it flood his system as he perched himself on the narrow windowsill. Exhaling into the night sky, he let the fag dangle from his fingertips. He had an early morning tomorrow, but there was always time for one last cigarette before bed.

He hadn't lost his touch, he mused, if he'd ever really had one. It had just been a while since he had found anything that had really inspired him that wasn't scaly and breathing fire.

The sight of a very shapely arse bending over the cupboard in the kitchen on Monday morning was somewhat inspiring, though. Especially as Charlie knew it didn't belong to any of the other dragon tamers. Donna didn't wear skirts like that. Actually, he'd never seen Donna in a skirt. Geoff and Paul, yes. But not Donna.


He cleared his throat. "Excuse me?" As it was barely eight o'clock in the morning, his first assumption was that she was someone's overnight guest. Her cheerful humming was a little unexpected, though.

She stood, whirling around. "Good morning," she chirped. "Biscuit?" The witch held out a packet to him with a smile. Charlie took one, regarding her dubiously. With not a hair out of place and shoes that coordinated with the rest of her accessories, Charlie wasn't sure what to make of her. Neither the early morning heat nor the humidity seemed to bother her. Not even Ginny sounded so awake in the morning, and she was a little fireball of energy most of the time, by all accounts.

"Didn't know we had chocolate biscuits," he commented stoutly, taking one. Someone had been hiding them. Who was this witch, anyway? Coming in here, eating their biscuits like it was nothing. It wasn't nothing. Biscuits were very important.

"I'm Lavender Brown," she said after a moment of awkward silence. Charlie's brow furrowed. "From the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," she prompted.

"Oh, right."

She raised her eyebrows at him and it took him a moment to realise she was expecting an introduction. "Charlie Weasley." Charlie Weasley who'd been up since four, smelled like dragon shit and had half a pot of ink spilled over his shirt where he'd been spooked by a bloody rabbit, of all things.

Her gaze dropped down the length of his body, then back up to his face, lingering for just a moment on his arms and the sleeve of tattoos that extended from beneath his shirt. She smiled. "Oh, yes. Yes, you really are." She licked her lips. "I was just making tea. Do you want any? There's some left in the pot, if you do."

"Er, no." Charlie swallowed a large mouthful of biscuit. He wiped his mouth with the back of her hand. "I was just about to head for a shower."

She smirked. "Well, have fun with that," she said, picking up her mug. "I have work to do. See you soon, Weasley." It was only as she breezed out of the kitchen, tea in hand, that Charlie realised she had pinched his favourite mug.

Hearing a loud snore, Charlie turned around in confusion. No one was sleeping in the kitchen, but upon entering the living room he spotted Paul's old socks hanging over the edge of the couch. It seemed that Paul had slept there last night, a cider bottle still clutched in his hot hand and his lips almost suckling the neck. "Oi." Charlie kicked the couch. "Wake up."

Paul blinked up at him. "You what?"

"I said wake up. Did you know the witch from Control is here already?" It was a ridiculous hour on a Monday morning. No one was that eager, surely?

Smiling sleepily, Paul gave a half-shrug. "Yeah, that pretty one." He waved a hand at the table. "She made me tea." Sure enough, a steaming mug sat there untouched. "Like it when pretty girls just turn up in my room."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Girls have never just turned up in your room. You're not even in your room."

Paul groaned, turning to bury his face in a cushion. Charlie left him to his disappointment and tea. He had work to do.

By Thursday there was still no change to the weather. The mugginess that had settled on the area seemed to show no sign of going anywhere and Charlie was sick to death of it. One good thunderstorm to clear the air would be very appreciated, but the weather didn't seem to be complying with his wishes. With increasingly cranky dragons and constantly sweating wizards, the sooner this humidity broke, the better.

One person who, annoyingly, didn't seem to be bothered by it was the perpetually bright-eyed Lavender. She was everywhere, it seemed, watching and taking notes. Neither the dragons nor the heat seemed to rile her up and she had even followed after Charlie on one of his early-morning observation sessions in boots that had curiously matched her hair barrettes.

"Hot, isn't it?" she remarked one lunchtime, looking directly at him.

Her clothes probably didn't help, Charlie thought. Everyday it seemed to be some variation on a high neckline and long sleeves. Even if she worked in the sun all day, it didn't really make sense in this weather.

"Hope it cools down a bit soon," she continued, her smile too innocent to match the tone of her words. "I prefer it when working up a sweat is more fun."

It took a lot for Charlie to feel self-conscious, but apparently that was something she brought out in him. Even when she wasn't there it felt as though her curious eyes were riveted on him. She was always smiling and offering biscuits. He wasn't sure where they all came from, but they were guaranteed to be chocolate.

Even stepping outside for a cigarette that evening he found her sitting at the old picnic table in the garden, a tall glass of water beside her and a book resting on her lap. The evening was finally starting to grow dark, so a single candle provided illumination as it floated in the air beside her.

"Good evening, Charlie." Lavender flipped a page and glanced up at him. That smile was still there; she bit her lip as she looked over him.

"You couldn't do that inside?" Charlie asked, taking a seat on the flat expanse of the table as he deftly lit up a cigarette.

Lavender shrugged. "I prefer being outdoors."

Charlie took a long drag of his cigarette. "You don't look like the others from Control."

Closing her book, she laughed softly. "Because I'm not sixty and don't have a beard?"

"Something like that."

"Hmm. I don't think a beard would suit me," she mused. Lavender waggled a leather bookmark at him. "And don't judge me by my appearance. I'm good at my job."

"Never said you weren't," Charlie pointed out gruffly. "You just don't seem the sort to work with magical creatures. Too..."

"Clean?" she suggested with a smirk, watching him carefully. She raised her eyebrows in a challenge. "I'm dirtier than I look, Weasley." Her shocking pink fingernails drummed against the cover of her book. "This was never my first choice of career. But after the Battle I decided I needed to do something really different with my life. Let's just say I have an affinity for animals."

"Wouldn't you rather be chasing after unicorns than watching us lot?" That seemed more her style, delicate and pretty. Something for her to coo over. Charlie wasn't an expert, but the way her smile slipped seemed to be an indication that he'd said something wrong.

"No."

Lavender twisted on the bench, sliding her legs over so that she could stand. Her book hugged to her chest, she stood in front of him. "You're much more interesting to look at than stupid unicorns," she said, her tone lower than Charlie could recall hearing it before. The hairs on the backs of his arms rose in response.

"Me, or a bunch of dragon tamers?"

She frowned and brought the book down on top of his head. Charlie groaned but she was already halfway back to the house by the time he blinked and could focus again. "What was that for?" he growled. It hadn't been hard, but forceful enough to make a point. But he couldn't for the life of him figure out what that point was supposed to be.

Spinning to face him, Lavender was scowling. Charlie wondered by people thought dragons were the temperamental ones. Dragons were creatures of habit, for the most part. Women, on the other hand, were the really dangerous ones. "Weasleys are so useless," she declared. "What do I have to do, Charlie? Do a striptease?"

"Yes. Wait. What?" He definitely wasn't sure that he followed. "Hang on, what are you on about?"

Lavender shook her head. "Forget about it."

"No. Wait." He stubbed his cigarette haphazardly into the old ashtray on the table that had been nicked from the local pub at some point in time. Charlie strode after her, catching her arm just before she could open the door. Lavender pursed her lips, glaring as she was turned to face him, trapped between Charlie and the door.

"Have you been flirting with me?"

She sighed. "Finally," she said, rolling her eyes. "Finally the knut drops. Took you long enough."

He returned her frown with one of his own. "I'm not your type," he told her flatly. She was a frilly little thing who read her horoscope and spent time planning what she was going to wear. Girls like her wanted very different things to what he wanted. Charlie had at least been with enough women to know that.

"I beg to differ." An annoyed sigh puffed from her lips. "And don't you want to win that bet?"

Charlie hesitated, hand coming up to rest against the wall as he loomed over her petite frame. "You know about that?"

"Paul can't keep his mouth shut. But do you really think I'd let him in my knickers?" She gave a delicate shudder. "I don't think so."

"But you'd let me?"

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "In a heartbeat." A long moment stretched between them. Lavender rolled her eyes, called him useless again and dragged him down for a kiss with a surprisingly strong grip on his shirt.

Charlie froze in surprise; it had been too long since a girl had launched herself at him like this. He pushed her back and her shoulders hit the door with a bump. Glaring at him, Lavender blew a lock of hair from her eyes with an annoyed puff, but it just fell back into place.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I get it. You're not interested."

Her hand scrabbled at the door handle. Getting it open, Lavender darted inside.

He growled, staring at the empty space she had just occupied. "Fuck. Lavender, I didn't say I wasn't... I just..."

And this was why his brothers were the ones who were settling down and getting married. Dragons were easy, women were not. Simple as that.

There was no getting away from Lavender, it seemed. She was still there, observing the workings of the reservation and still offering tea and biscuits. Charlie avoided her as much as possible, his preferred method of dealing with difficult personal circumstances. And women.

Seeking out a late night glass of water, Charlie was surprised to find that he wasn't the only person awake. A candle lit up the living room, though he was expecting it to be Paul having forgotten to go to bed again.

Instead, Lavender had taken over the sofa and the low table, covering it in paperwork. She was far from her usual prim self, her hair held back in two haphazard plaits and what appeared to be something that passed for pyjamas. The small shorts and thin vest didn't seem to cover much; her skin was pale but certainly not flawless. Purplish scars raked across her chest, providing an explanation for the high necklines that had persisted despite the heat.

"Why are you still up?" he asked gruffly.

Her shoulders jerked. Lavender stared up at him, wide-eyed. "You startled me." She paused, waiting on an apology that didn't come. She waved her hand absently at the open window. A full moon hung in the clear night's sky. "Too hot to sleep."

"So you're doing work instead?"

Sighing tiredly, Lavender stretched for the glass of water that she had set on the floor. "The Ministry does love its paperwork. Thought I might as well while I'm awake." As she leant forward, he spotted tattoo, the outline of a crescent moon on her shoulder. What else had she been hiding beneath those neat blouses?

She drained the last gulp of water in her glass, looking up at him again. "What about you? It's only two. I thought you got up at four."

"Needed something to drink."

Stretching her arms up over her head in a suppressed yawn, Lavender rose from the sofa. "Might join you in that."

In the kitchen, Lavender fetched him a clean glass before he could protest, reaching up to the top shelf. Charlie found it hard to tell her he was capable of getting it himself when he spotted the stylised Celtic design that knotted itself across the witch's lower back. The sight made his mouth go dry, so he was grateful when she passed him the glass. She pursed her lips and Charlie remembered belatedly to say thank you.

She leant back against the somewhat grimy kitchen counter as she watched him fill his glass. He thought he saw Lavender staring from the corner of his eye, but when he glanced at her she was just smiling wryly.

"What?" he demanded.

Lavender grinned. "Enjoying the view." She stepped closer to him and Charlie watched through half-closed eyes as she drew her finger slowly up his forearm, dragging it this way and that as she followed the patterns and images that covered his skin. The unique sleeves of artwork had taken years, a patient plan that filled Charlie with a sense of accomplishment every time he looked at the tattoos. Her fingertips skimmed the dragon on his bicep. It had been the first tattoo on his arm; that was the point from where the rest of the ink had spread. Every single drop of ink had a purpose and this was a story of his life made flesh. None of Charlie's tattoos had been a spur of the moment decision. They were the most permanent things in his life.

"Nice tats."

"Thanks. Er... nice tits."

Charlie cringed, realising far too late what he'd just said. She, however, blinked in surprise before giving a snort of laughter. Her cheeks flushed pink and she glanced down at herself. "Thank you."

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry if came on too strong the other day. I have a tendency to do that." She frowned, brow creasing. "But you're a very attractive man," she glanced at his arms, "and I wanted to express that."

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have pushed you away. That wasn't... nice." He felt like he was losing testosterone just saying that. "But I'm not the sort of bloke you take home to your mother."

Lavender laughed and tugging the glass from his hand, all the while keeping a predatory gaze on him. "Who says I'm looking for a man to take home with me?"

"Look, I've met girls like you and -"

"You've never met girls like me," she broke in sharply. "Don't generalise. I just want a bit of fun." She smiled sweetly. "Preferably the sort that involves you being naked." Lavender put her hand firmly on his arm. "If you're not interested," she told him, "just tell me. I prefer it when blokes are honest." She wrinkled her nose. "You're not gay, are you?"

"No." It seemed like the only thing he knew for sure.

For a long moment, Charlie focused on the lock of hair that curled against her temple. Fuck. Whether she was being earnest in her proposition or not was swiftly becoming irrelevant at this point. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I'm not the gentle type."

"Good," she said stoutly. "That's just boring." Tipping her head up, she kissed him fiercely.

Charlie groaned against her mouth, hands resting heavily on her hips.

"Your room?" she asked brightly, lips a little swollen from the kiss. "My room?" She smirked. "Right here?"

"Mine." He'd slept on the bed in the spare room before and he was surprised that she wasn't complaining of a bad back. That thing was lethal.

First, though, he was going to kiss her. Charlie's fingers pressed into her sides, his lips descending on hers as he pushed her bodily up against the counter hard enough to make the cutlery in the drawer rattle. She squeaked, but her arms quickly wrapped around him and he felt her relax against him before she met him with equal fervour.

Charlie broke away with a growl, though he kept his firm grip and with a snap they were in his room.

She gasped, stumbling slightly having Apparated on top of a discarded pair of work boots. Charlie kept a firm hold on her, but her momentum carried her forwards and she nearly tipped over, hands braced on the foot of the bed. Her surprised giggles subsided as Charlie pressed himself against her from behind and started to place hot kisses on her neck. She wriggled beneath him, arse firm against his erection.

His rough palms slid up her sides, Lavender's vest travelling up with his hands and revealing more pale skin. Lavender righted herself enough to tug it over her head, Charlie immediately cupping her breasts. The hardened nipples that had already been evident through the thin material pressed against his palms. Squeezing, he earned a breathy sigh from the witch and another tempting wriggle of her behind.

Charlie's lips closed around her earlobe, teasing her gently for a moment before his thumbs gave a rough tweak of her nipples.

Releasing her breasts, eliciting a needy whine, he yanked at her shorts and pulled them down. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hand sliding across her stomach. That was when he discovered the jewel that sparkled at her navel. Fucking hell. Women in magazines, no matter how lewd their poses, were nothing compared to the real thing.


Charlie shivered, keeping his eyes closed until he was sure that he had enough control so that he wouldn't come all over her like a teenager. "Bend over again," he growled against her ear, fingers dipping into the wetness of her cunt. Her skin felt almost impossibly hot; the groan she gave went through him like a vibration.

Lavender's hands met the bed again, though she peered over her shoulder as he divested himself of his shorts, smirking. Her eyes raked over every inch of his freckled skin, completely shameless in her admiration.

His thigh shoved between her legs, forcing them wider apart. "I'm not -"

"Gentle, yes," she groaned. "Yeah, you already said that." Her head fell forward as she bit her lip, already sounding breathless in anticipation.

Grasping her hips, his erection slid along her cunt as he pressed closer. Every sly smile that she had give him since her arrival, every flirty look, was now culminating in his cock feeling harder than it had in months and he didn't want to waste any time. He used a hand to guide himself, but as soon as he found his mark he thrust in hard.

Lavender whined, swearing under her breath. One hand on her hip, another finding a pert breast, Charlie gave over to his instincts, his hips moving seemingly of their own volition. He was the only one to have laid a hand on his cock for far too long, so right now all the self-restraint that he had was gone.

The headboard shunted against the wall after one thrust. Charlie had enough presence of mind to notice that her whines were becoming more like growls. Mostly, though, he was focussed on the tight heat of her around his cock and the achingly hard nipple that his fingers rubbed roughly at. The noises she made were all sounds of encouragement and he could feel her tightening further around him.

His arm slipped around her once more, holding her securely as his hand moved south. His fingers slid over her wetness, seeking out her clit. Lavender groaned, thighs trembling as Charlie buried himself in her.

Lavender shifted forward, putting one knee up on the bed. The change of angle sent Charlie in deeper and he almost lost all control right then.

"Charlie. Fuck. Close." Lavender's back arched, head tipping back. Charlie could barely hear her breathy gasp over the knocking of the headboard against the wall and his own heavy breathing.

His fingers pressed harder against her clit and she gave a cry, going rigid against him. She went tight around him, cunt clenching his cock as she all but sobbed through her release.

Lavender's arms buckled and she pitched forward onto the bed. Charlie pulled out reluctantly, his thoughts hazy with lust. She was pliable to his touch, rolling over onto her back easily. He was momentarily distracted by the fact that she had another tattoo situated just about where the waistband of her underwear would be if she were wearing any, but her easy smile and spread legs quickly reminded him of his own arousal.

Naked, Charlie crawled over her. His hand caught under her knee, drawing her leg up until Lavender bit her lip as she felt the burn of her muscles. Her eyes dark with arousal, she reached down, fingers closing firmly around his slick cock.

"Gonna come if you do that," he warned in a ragged whisper.

"Kind of the point," she murmured. Lavender kept eye contact, stroking his length and lifting her head to kiss his throat. Her teeth nipped lightly at his skin and she pushed herself up a little as to peer over his shoulder.

"Oh, fuck, that's sexy," she breathed, nails dragging lightly over the tail of the large dragon that covered most of his back. Charlie pulled back enough to grin wolfishly at her. "You should smile more," Lavender decided.

"I'll try to remember that," he told her, gruff as ever as his hand slid further up her thigh, pushing her leg back further.

He slid into her more easily this time, Lavender sighing softly against his neck. A couple of testing thrusts and he resumed the pace of before, her other leg coming to circle him. Charlie felt surrounded by her, but as her teeth pressed into his shoulder he knew she definitely wasn't the delicate flower he'd assumed her to be.

Her heel dug into the small of his back, Lavender doing her best to meet him, but having reached her own completion her movements weren't as desperate or frenzied as Charlie's.

She curled her fingers against his arse, his muscles flexing beneath her touch with every thrust. With a shuddering yell, Charlie buried himself in her a final time as his climax ripped through him.

Lavender gave a groan as he collapsed bodily atop her, releasing his bruising grasp on her thigh. Eyes closed, Charlie could feel her leg stretch out beside him, her heart fluttering in her chest against his own.

Pale moonlight crept into the room through a crack in the curtains as they lay there. Charlie yawned, sure he wouldn't have any trouble sleeping after that; Lavender made a noise of protest, pushing lightly at his shoulder. "Don't fall asleep," she complain. "You're too heavy."

He all but flopped off her onto the other side of the bed, yawning again. Lavender rolled her eyes as she propped herself up on a elbow to look at him. "Well, that was fun," she remarked brightly, eyes shining with a brightness Charlie hadn't seen before. "We should do that again sometime."

"You're only here for another four days," he muttered against the pillow. That was another thing about dragons: they didn't talk.

"Soon, then. Very soon." She leant over and pressed a light kiss to his temple. "Want me to go back to my room?"

He gave a grunt and raised his hand enough to wave it in an ambiguous manner.

"Completely useless," she chided, though she didn't sound upset. Her arm stretched over him as she settled herself down, but Charlie, quietly snoring, barely even noticed.