Despicable Souls

Chapter 12

Miss Granger,

Charlie Weasley has requested an exception tonight for your curfew. I have granted this request.

Don't make me regret this leniency.

Draco Malfoy, Minister of Magic

Hermione wordlessly passed the letter to Charlie with a raised brow as they waited in line for the floo in the Ministry's atrium.

The letter had flown directly into her hair as soon as they had reached the atrium after a grueling study session in the archives on poisonous and venomous plants. She didn't find much interest in herbology but it'd been a nice reprieve from training, even if it was entirely under Zabini's stern scowl anytime Charlie so much as looked in her direction.

Charlie gave a low whistle, shaking his head. "I wasn't expecting him to agree or I'd have mentioned this to you earlier. I was wondering if you would like to have a sleepover?"

"A sleepover?" she clarified, her lips twitching.

Charlie grinned. "You know, watch telly, eat sweets, discuss the latest gossip, paint each other's nails..."

Hermione snorted but her stomach clenched with nerves at the risks.

Charlie was different than her other bonds. Being with Charlie was as easy as breathing but she couldn't allow her magic to grow complacent around him.

He squeezed her hand, seeming to always read her moods. "I'll take the sofa, of course. I just... want to spend time with you."

But how could she possibly say no when he said sweet things like that?

She took a steadying breath and glanced over to his patient smile and eyes that could only be described as adoring.

"Oh alright," she conceded, allowing a smile at his answering grin. "But I have no problem taking the sofa, you know."

Charlie scoffed, pulling her into the floo. "Like I'd allow my bond to sleep on the sofa," He leaned over, his lips brushing her ear. "Besides, you have no idea the pleasure it will bring me to see you in my bed tonight, dragul meu."

She shivered as the floo whisked them away, spatting them back out at a familiar flat.

Charlie removed the soot from their robes, and gently pulled her further into the living room.

"When is George going to be home?" Hermione asked, hoping her tone seemed casual enough despite the pounding of her heart.

"We have the place to ourselves tonight," he said cheerfully, dropping her hand so he could tinker with the telly. "I solemnly swear to be a gentleman despite the lack of supervision." He flashed her a grin and her heart skipped a beat.

Her magic didn't bloody want a gentleman but she'd keep this information to herself. Besides, it didn't matter what her magic wanted... but what would it feel like to give in?

Just a taste?

She hugged a pillow from the sofa to her chest as if this would be enough protection from the temptation of Charlie Weasley.

"I've only seen a few films," he continued on, unaware of her inner turmoil. "But I reckon one of the films from George's collection should suffice."

She hummed in response, curling herself into the corner of the sofa as she failed to not check out Charlie's ass while he was down on one knee looking over different film options.

When a film was chosen and leftover soup from Mrs. Weasley reheated for dinner, they settled on the sofa together.

She tried to put space between them, she really did, but it was like a magnetic pull inching her towards him until she was firmly tucked into his side.