Special delivery for subtle_horizon Title: And Nothing Else Matters Author: Recipient’s LJ Name: subtle_horizon Pairing: Charlie Weasley/Hermione Granger Rating: R Summary: Freshly embarked on a relationship, Hermione Granger doesn't really know what to expect from her partner, or from the life he's been leading so far, and that he wants to share with her. Word Count: 1,138 Warnings/Content: Shower!sex, angst Disclaimer: The characters and settings depicted belong to J. K. Rowling – all rights reserved. I just borrowed them to no material purpose. A/N: Here’s honest hoping that my giftee will find a couple of her requests within the fic!
Hermione Granger couldn’t decide whether visiting her boyfriend was a good idea; she couldn’t grasp whether it was a bad idea, either. Call it womanly intuition, but she had rather travelled with a Muggle low-cost airline, than use a Portkey. She was a bit insecure when it came of going to foreign countries for the first time, and moreover, travelling by plane didn’t bother her, and she was used to it.
“I really wonder”, she thought, sitting as comfortably as the three quite wide, but crammed together, seats allowed their passengers to get. There was a book in her lap, of course, and a thick one, unlike the cheap novels the others seem to read around her. “How will it be?”
With her nose pressing against the cold window, Hermione watched the clouds’ lazy flight. She had missed simple, obvious plane travel; permanently living amidst wizards and witches made her long for a habitual Muggle life, every now and then. She wasn’t sure whether she had questions concerning her destination – Romania, such an exotic, alien name – or her life with Charlie; Charlie Weasley, who survived the war as she did, and who decided to go back and keep breeding his winged beasts. He also took her heart along.
Hermione knew she had to go, yet a slight unease was lingering within her.
-
The slight unease grew in intensity once Hermione landed. There was nothing wrong with the airport – a normal, small-sized low-cost airport, looking newly built. She was to find out later that it was, indeed, newly built. No problems at the customs, as Hermione travelled lightly, and no magic detectors whatsoever; they were usually invisible or smartly camouflaged, while a person who possessed magic could still locate them, but there was none present at the airport.
And there was Charlie, of course. Tall, broad in shoulders, his clear blue eyes searching for her; she felt like sighing, but managed to remain composed.
“You’re here”, he said. He was a man of few words, but Hermione always felt like each of them was deep enough to move something inside her. “I – how did you travel?”
“By plane, Charlie.”
She threw herself in his arms to soften the tease, and was glad to be held again. That, she had missed the most – the feeling of absolute security she had when he hugged her.
“I’m glad to be here”, she began. They were comfortably seated at the back of a taxi, on the way to the train station. “I do feel a bit concerned, too, but that’s just me.”
“Concerned?” Charlie glanced at her. “Why would you? It’s safe here, Hermione. You’ll see. The village we’ll be heading to, you might find plain, but there’s a whole different life after dark, or beyond the simple, smiling faces.”
“After dark? What does darkness have to do with you?”
He laughed. “You look frightened. Come on! Your big adventure starts here!”
Hermione felt the need to place an acid comment, but refrained from doing so, as she thought the taxi driver might find any reference to wars, bloodshed, and the Lord of Darkness, a bit awkward.
-
If the train fare had been alright, the bus ride was a completely different business. As they were slowly advancing higher and higher, Hermione felt more and more nauseous, until Charlie had to hold her – as good as the once again crammed seats allowed him to – and press his mouth on her hair.
“How long will you be staying?” he asked quietly.
“As long as you’ll want me.” Her voice coiled teasingly, but Hermione wasn’t sure she was joking. They haven’t been together for too long; she didn’t know what to expect from him. Back home, there were other pressing businesses to think of; mainly, how to survive and help the loved ones live along. “Charlie?”
“I’m right here. I’m not letting you go.”
Hermione propped her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
-
“It’s not cold in here.”
As soon as she opened her mouth, Hermione felt like she had said something silly. Charlie was making himself busy stashing some chopped wood in the fireplace, so he didn’t notice. “He wouldn’t, anyway”, thought Hermione. Things were easier for Charlie; she hoped he could make them easier for her, too.
“Are you hungry?” He couldn’t tell what her look meant. “You must be tired, that I can guess. Don’t worry, we have a bed, and it’s a rather comfortable one. It’s pretty spacious around here, although it looks a bit shabby on the outside.”
“He said we”, thought Hermione. “Of course it has to be we.” She wasn’t thinking she would sleep on the porch.
“So? You look puzzled.”
She glanced at him. Charlie looked like a boy, like a tall, strong boy with a smile splitting his face in half, and the most honest gaze she’d ever seen. She could never feel awkward with him; he wouldn’t hurt her.
“It’s – everything is so new to me; the shack; the fireplace. We used to have a fireplace at home, of course, and there was one at the Burrow, and I did live in a shack before, when I visited the French countryside, but this – we’re going to be living here for a while.”
“Indeed.”
“Just the two of us.”
“Right-o.”
Hermione felt suddenly dizzy, so she sat directly on the floor. Charlie knelt in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, grasping ever so slightly. “We’ll be fine, Hermione. You’ll see. But now”, he went on, switching back to his usual tone, “you have to eat something. Come. I’ll show you. They have dead on delicious food around here!”
-
They ate in silence, for a while.
Charlie was obviously more tired than she was, Hermione noticed. He was hanging in, though, and trying to be observant; he passed her the bread – a brown, a bit hard, but delicious sort; he talked about the cheese – fresh and so tasty that she could feel it melting against her palate; and he even made an attempt at talking about his work. Hermione knew it was difficult for him to speak of that; it was as if he was trying hard not to divulge certain tricks.
She wanted him to feel safe with her, to trust her. She wanted to feel safe with him.
“How is it?”
“I think I might be wanting more”, replied Hermione. She really liked the cheese. “Um. Do we have a shower here?”
Her face probably amused Charlie a lot, for he burst into laughter. “You look as if you’d expect a drilled bucket! It’s nothing like that. We have a rudimentary shower, but no buckets, and plenty of space for the two of us!” He winked; she blushed.
They were getting there.
-
Warm drops were raining on her face like a blessing.
Eyes shut, Hermione felt around her for the towel; it was a new shampoo, bought at the airport, and she was thinking of it as a bad idea. It was definitely stinging, to start with.
“Looking for something?”
Hermione froze. Her eyes stung. She could feel her right ankle going numb as well – it was twisted in an awkward angle. And then she couldn’t feel anything, anymore. Her lips were parted, and Charlie’s tongue caressed hers, while his arms went around her waist, and he pushed himself closer. Hermione found herself pinned against the wall, hot water trickling down her back, Charlie’s fingers teasing her nipples.
“Charlie”, she breathed, finally opening her eyes; they still stung, but she was more comfortable seeing his blurry face. He was smiling. “It’s been a while.”
She thought she saw him nodding. It was enough, and still she was – and then she gasped when he lifted her easily, and pulled her even closer. He was tracing damp circles around her nipples; her breasts were already damp, yet she could feel it distinctively, as each move made her arch and push her hips toward him.
He finally got inside her. Hermione felt the impact heavily, with all her body. He stayed there, without moving, for seconds, allowing her to adjust. Instinctively, she knotted her ankles around his strong back; he started thrusting. -
Hermione woke up when she smelled breakfast: it was too rich a scent for her to resist it. She jumped out of the bed, noticing only then that she had slept indeed on a bed, and wrapped a sheet around her. She felt a bit sore when she moved toward the kitchen, and she smiled a secret smile to herself, knowing the reason.