CHAPTER EIGHT:

Third Person P.O.V.:

Hermione made no mention of Harry giving Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons for two whole weeks after her original suggestion. Charlie's detentions with Umbridge were finally over (he doubted whether the words now etched into the back of his hand would ever fade entirely); Ron had had four more Quidditch practices and not been shouted at during the last two; and the core four had managed to keep up with their homework before the subject were brought up again, on a wild, blustery evening at the end of September, when the four of them were sitting in the library, looking up potion ingredients for Snape.

"I was wondering," Hermione said suddenly, "whether you'd thought any more about Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry."

"'Course I have," shrugged Harry, "can't really forget about it actually... I-I've thought about it quite a bit."

"And?" said Hermione eagerly.

"I dunno," said Harry; playing for time, he looked up at Charlie.

"Don't look at me," Charlie said with a slight laugh, "I thought it was a good idea from the start."

"So why don't you do it?" challenged Harry, his brow raising. "You've proven to be good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, haven't you? You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you managed to survive the Triwizard Tournament, and you can produce a Patron—"

"Who said I wasn't going to help?" Charlie interjected, eyebrows furrowed. "I have no interest in being the teacher, mind you, but I'd be willing to help you out during your lessons," He looked around at Hermione and Ron before adding, "I'm sure we all would."

Hermione and Ron nodded their heads simultaneously in a vigorous manner.

"It has to be you, Harry," agreed Hermione. "You can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't. You know, Viktor always sai—"

Ron looked round at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck. Rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"

Charlie's ears perked up at the new topic of conversation; he didn't know if it was because of Ron's reaction... or if it was due to hearing his girlfriend mention the Bulgarian Seeker. He moved his gaze onto Hermione, who shifted in her chair anxiously, contemplating what to say next.

"Uh, well," Hermione gulped, avoiding the curious gaze of her boyfriend as her face turned a deep crimson. "He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in his final year at Durmstrang."

Charlie eyed his girlfriend suspiciously, "You're not still in contact with him, are you?"

Hermione glanced up at Charlie for the first time, her eyes practically radiating an apology.

"He's just a pen-pal," she said reassuringly, but that didn't stop her boyfriend from clenching his jaw. Noticing this, she added, "It means nothing."

Opening his mouth to say something, Charlie was cut off when Ron spoke for him in an accusing mumble.

"Yeah right," he said bitterly. "As I recall, he didn't only want to be your pen-pal, did he?"

"What's it to you?" Charlie spoke, harsher than intended, towards the ginger before shifting his gaze back to Hermione, his expression softening in understanding. "It means nothing," he repeated and Hermione nodded at him with a smile, feeling relieved at the fact that such a silly thing wasn't going to get between them.

"Anyways, look," Hermione said, changing the subject and leaning in to whisper, "you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? I think we should spread the word and see who'd be interested in coming to the lessons."

Ron looked puzzled, "Why do we have to do it outside of school?"

"Because," Charlie said, answering for Hermione, "Umbridge is already suspicious enough as it is... and something tells me she wouldn't be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

Hermione smiled proudly towards Charlie, "Exactly."

"Alright then," Harry nodded. "It's settled."

——————————————

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After breakfast the core four queued up in front of McGonagall, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village; Dumbledore, of course, had been the one to sign for Charlie.

Checked off the list, they walked walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left on to the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes.

"So, where are we going anyway?" Harry asked as they walked. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"No," Hermione said briskly. "It's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit... you know... dodgy... but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

They walked down the main street past Zonko's Wizarding Joke Shop, where they saw Fred, George and Lee Jordan piling through the door, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side-street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood on to the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All four of them hesitated outside the door.

"Charming," Charlie said sarcastically, earning sniggers from Ron and Harry. Hermione, on the other hand, was standing nervously still. "It's alright. Come on," he added gently, and led the way inside.

It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been barn animals. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Charlie stepped on to it he realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth; two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table by one of the windows; Charlie might have thought they'd been dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"

Hermione cast an appraising eye over the veiled figure.

"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she said quietly. "And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've triple-checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes. I've also looked up everything I can about study groups and they're definitely allowed... I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."

"Yeah, let's not do that," joked Charlie, trying to lighten the mood, "especially as it's not exactly a study group we're planning, is it?"

Hermione stifled a laugh, nudging Charlie slightly as the barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard.

"What?" he grunted.

"Four Butterbeers, please," said Hermione politely.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up four very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.

"Eight Sickles," he said.

"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver; the barman's eyes looked at the four of them curiously before depositing Harry's money in an ancient wooden till.

Charlie, Harry, Ron and Hermione retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, drinks in hand, looking around. The man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.

"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhiskey..."

"Yeah, right," Charlie laughed. "One shot of Firewhiskey and you'd be on the floor."

Ron smirked, "Is that a challenge?"

Charlie's eyes lit up, but before he could even open his mouth to accept Ron's offer, Hermione spoke for him.

"No, don't even think about it," she scolded, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend, who pouted slightly, trying to be cute, but it just earned him a kick under the table. "You-are-a-prefect!"

"Okay, okay," Charlie chuckled, but looked back over at Ron, mouthing, "Next time."

Hermione, who noticed this of course, wasn't pleased, "Charlie Hawthorne!"

Harry held back a smile before trying to change the subject; disregarding Ron and Charlie, who laughed loudly, "So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?"

"Just a couple of people," Hermione sighed, checking her watch and looking anxiously towards the door. "I told them to be here around this time and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh, look, this might be them now."

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people.

First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil, with Cho and Ginny coming in shortly after, then (on her own and looking so dreamy she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood. Next came Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey, and Romilda Vane, followed quickly by Hufflepuff members, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Zacharias Smith.

Elaina Dumont walked in next with a wave, accompanied by a blonde-haired Slytherin girl, which Charlie assumed, was Daphne Greengrass. Three Ravenclaw boys named Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot came in after, and, bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.

"A couple of people?" repeated Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people?"

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, pull up some more chairs, will you?"

The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly, he had never seen his pub so full.

"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, "could we have... twenty-six Butterbeers, please?"

The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted doing something very important, he started passing up dusty Butterbeers from under the bar.

In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Charlie, Ron and Hermione, some looking rather excited, others curious; Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out.

"Uh, hi," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves; Charlie resisted the urge to reach for her hand out of fear of being caught. "Well, you all know why we're here... we need a teacher — a proper teacher. And so, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

She paused, looked sideways at Charlie for reassurance, and went on after seeing his smile, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells—"

"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" said Michael Corner, who was watching her closely.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because... because..." she took a great breath and finished, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

It was the first time she had ever said Voldemort's name and it was this, more than anything else, that made Charlie feel an immense sense of pride as he stared at her in awe. Everyone else's reactions, however, were immediate and predictable. Daphne shrieked and slopped Butterbeer down herself; Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry to see if he would react to the word; but Harry, like Charlie, was utterly proud of his friend for having the courage to say You-Know-Who's name.

"And that's the plan," Hermione finished, feeling quite pleased with herself. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said Zacharias Smith in a rather aggressive voice.

Hermione, although taken aback, said, "Well, Dumbledore believes it —"

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said Smith, nodding at Charlie. "But that's expected, isn't it? I mean, he is his grandson..."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" questioned Charlie, rather rudely.

"I just think we've got the right to know what makes you say You-Know-Who's back." defended Smith, smirking slightly. "We can't just take your word for it... but maybe if you told us exactly what happened that night... maybe even indulge in a few details? I think we'd all like to know—"

"Look," panicked Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about..."

"No, it's okay, Mione," reassured Charlie, standing up. "You want the details of how I nearly died, is that it?" He paused for a moment to send a glare in Smith's direction before continuing, "Well, I don't want to talk about it, okay? In fact, I'd never be willing to relive that day for as long as I live. So if that's the story you're here for, you might as well clear out now."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Charlie spoke. But none of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at the core four. Harry, who had been trying to hold his temper, scoffed in his chair.

"This is ridiculous," he said bitterly. "Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe us, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Harry stood up, prepared to leave, when the voice of someone from the crowd had caught his attention.

"Is it true that you can produce a Corporeal Patronus, Harry?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this. Heads turned towards Elaina Dumont, who gazed at Harry with a heart-whelming smile; she was attempting to lighten the mood. Charlie watched his friend with glasses blush slightly from the French girl's attention — she was very beautiful after all.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," Elaina continued politely from her seat. "It's just, I'm new around here, and I've only heard the stories..."

"Well, yeah... Charlie can too." Harry said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Mine takes the form of a stag."

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Charlie, didn't you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot; the crowd's gaze shifted. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

"Uh, yeah, I did, yeah," gulped Charlie; Hermione flashed him a proud smile. "Harry helped me trap it."

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks and Lavender Brown held her mouth agape.

"In our first year," said Neville to the group at large, "Harry saved that Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who!"

"And that's not to mention," added Ginny, looking at Harry, blushing, "fighting off those Dementors over the summer all by himself!"

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table.

"Wait," Harry called, and everyone fell silent at once, "I-I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff... from my friends." He added the last bit after peering over at Charlie, Ron, and Hermione.

"Is this your way of telling us that you can't really do anything?" snarled Zacharias Smith. "'Cause this is a horrible way of trying to convince us to join your little club."

"Alright, that's enough," spat Charlie bitterly, rolling his eyes. "Who invited the dickhead?"

"My thoughts exactly," agreed Ron; he and Charlie shared an amused glance before he turned back to Smith. "Can you shut your mouth?"

"Yes, well," Hermione said hastily, attempting to move on, "the point is, are we agreed that we want to take lessons from Harry? And perhaps, be willing to have him as our leader?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, earning a glare from Charlie.

"Brilliant," beamed Hermione. "Now, I'm thinking we should meet at least once a week... but the question is, where?"

This question was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.

"I can't see Madame Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," laughed Charlie.

Dean spoke out loud, "What about an unused classroom?"

"Too risky," said Harry at once. "Umbridge could find us."

"Shrieking Shack?" suggested Cho, looking hopeful.

But Ron shook his head, "Not big enough."

The entire crowd looked discouraged, almost as if they had ran out of ideas.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," shrugged Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Fred and George reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote their signatures, but Charlie noticed that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list. That was, however, until Elaina Dumont stood up; heads snapping in her direction.

"What? You've got something better to do, do you?" she smirked towards the uneasy crowd.

Elaina walked forward, grabbed the quill in her hand and signed the parchment, winking at Harry in the process to show support. The crowd behind her still shocked.

Zacharias Smith was still unconvinced, "What if Umbridge finds out?"

"C'est la vie," Elaina shrugged, turning back around to return to her seat. "And what's life without a few risks?"

Nobody raised objections after that as they all seemed pretty inspired by Elaina's words of encouragement. When the last person — Zacharias — had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and held it in her hands. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

"Perfect," beamed Hermione. "Last but not least, I think we ought to have a name... It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

Again, there was a murmur of agreement; they were covering all bases for their new club.

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"What about, The Ministry of Magic are Morons? Triple M for short." suggested Fred; this one made Charlie laugh.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defence Association?" suggested Elaina. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the DA's good," agreed Charlie. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

"All in favour of the DA?" said Hermione proudly, standing up from her seat to count. "That's a majority — motion passed!"

She took the piece of parchment with all of their signatures and wrote across the top in large letters:

DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY

"Well, that settles it then," Hermione dismissed, standing up straight after slipping the parchment back into her bag. "Thanks for coming!"

In twos and threes the group took their leave. Elaina was one of the last to get up, but she didn't leave before bidding a farewell to the core four; Ginny watching her closely as she said goodbye to Harry. Soon enough, the Hog's Head was just as empty as it was before the students arrived.

"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione happily, as she, Charlie, Harry and Ron walked out into the bright sunlight a few moments later; the boys were still clutching their bottles of Butterbeer.

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," mumbled Ron, who was glowering after the figure of Smith, just discernible in the distance.

"I don't like him much, either," admitted Hermione, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better, right?"

"Right," smiled Charlie before draining the last few drops from his Butterbeer bottle.

Without realizing it, they had turned into the High Street, passing Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, heading in the direction of Zonko's Joke Shop when suddenly, Hermione came to a halt, eyeing a particular sign displayed in the distant corner.

Charlie followed her eyes, reading the sign aloud in his head:

'The Most Haunted Place in Britain'
BEWARE!
The Shrieking Shack.
Located Up Ahead.

"Hmm..." hummed Hermione, sending a discrete look to Charlie. "You know, I've just remembered... I have to get a few things for school, I'll see you guys later."

She spoke in a peculiar tone of voice, her eyes darting towards her boyfriend as if she were hinting at something, before she turned to walk up the road. It took a few seconds for Charlie to realize that she wanted him to follow her.

"Right then," Ron said as Hermione disappeared, urging Harry and Charlie towards Zonko's. "Let's go have a look inside, shall we? Fred and George said they've got loads of new stuff!"

"You guys go on ahead," Charlie called hastily, pulling back from Ron's grasp. "I, uh, wanted to head over to Honeydukes and... uh, get some candy for my grandfather."

Ron furrowed his brows, "Why don't you wait for us? We'll come with yo—"

"No, it's okay," Charlie said sharply, earning confused glances from his friends. Thinking quickly, he continued, "I know how you lot are like in Zonko's, we'll have to leave by the time you're done in there — I'll just nip over to Honeydukes by myself, if that's alright."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," shrugged Harry. "We'll catch up with you later then?"

Charlie nodded, and although he wasn't entirely convinced, Ron trudged off after Harry towards the joke shop. The Gryffindor Prefect waited, watching through the windows until his friends seemed occupied before he set off in Hermione's direction towards the Shrieking Shack. Passing Honeydukes completely, Charlie kept walking down the main street before turning right towards the outskirts of the village.

Walking up the hill, the viewing area for the infamous Shrieking Shack was just as he remembered it; secluded and quiet with a clear view of the creepy building, with boarded up windows and an overgrown garden. This time, however, the area wasn't deserted; it was occupied by a single person with their back towards Charlie, who just so happened to be the person he was in search of — his beautiful girlfriend.

Smiling widely to himself, Charlie crept up behind Hermione before wrapping his arms around her waist, "Hi baby."

Although startled at first, it took Hermione all of a single second to realize who is was, and after she did, she nuzzled into his embrace, leaning back against him.

"Took you long enough," she whispered, closing her eyes as Charlie moved her hair back to place kisses on her neck.

"Ron couldn't take a hint," he muttered against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "But I'm here now."

Hermione smiled, moving her hands over his, stationing them around her own waist. Charlie moved to place a final kiss on her cheek before settling his head in the crook of her neck, peering up at the sight in front of them. They stood there in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other's company until Hermione spoke.

"It's bizarre, isn't it?" she whispered; Charlie's ears perked up. "Two years ago, I stood here with you, completely unaware of what was happening between us... and now we're together."

"On the contrary, I think it was the most natural thing that could've happened," Charlie smiled proudly. "Deep down, I always believed that we'd end up together somehow."

"Is that right?" Hermione teased. She switched their position (they were now standing face to face, her arms around his neck) before she added, "Well, you sure as hell took your time when it came to acting on that theory of yours, didn't you?"

"Good things take time," Charlie joked. "And in case you forgot, I was a bit of a prat back then."

"You're still a prat," corrected Hermione with a playful smirk. Stifling a laugh as a pout came over Charlie's face, she added, "But you're mine."

"That I am," Charlie said sweetly, his frown fading away, before he leaned down to connect their lips in a light kiss.

Hermione pulled away first because she let a smile curl it's way onto her lips. She leaned her forehead against his as she softly said, "I love you so much."

The boy smiled, resisting the urge to shout his deepest desire as loud as possible. He restrained himself, being mindful of what his admittance could mean in the future. Instead, Charlie leaned forward again and captured her lips with immense passion; proving once again, that actions could speak volumes.

Deep down, Hermione had to admit that not hearing the words fall from his lips did make her feel a little doubtful, but every single time she felt that way, Charlie's actions would prove how much he meant to her. Which is why, she was being so easy-going with the whole thing — if he wasn't ready, she wasn't going to force him.

"Would you maybe want to get a bit closer?" Charlie mimicked, recalling their previous encounter at the Shrieking Shack, as they separated once again.

"To the Shrieking Shack?" Hermione teased, following along with the joke. "You know, they say it's the most haunted place in Britain."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie hummed, amused by their playful banter.

(A/N: little recall to their moment in PoA)

"Mhm," affirmed Hermione before she giggled, unable to hold it, into Charlie's mouth and then, connected their lips again.

Not complaining, Charlie pressed his lips firmly against hers, pulling her closer by the waist. Hermione's hands ran through his hair as she deepened their kiss. Every time they kissed, it was more meaningful, more powerful, and more loving... if that was even possible; it was as if the taste of each others lips was something they couldn't get enough of.

Hermione moved her hand down and knotted her fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against her. Charlie groaned softly, low in his throat, as Hermione kissed him hard, with some kind of savouring passion.

"Wait, wait, wait," Charlie panted, pulling back before they got too carried away. "We can't do this here."

Although she groaned slightly at the loss of contact, Hermione seemed to agree, "Yeah, you're right..." she mumbled against his lips, adding, "...but when can we?"

"Tonight," Charlie smiled at once. "After our Prefect rounds... if that's okay?"

"Sounds perfect," Hermione squealed without hesitation; it was proof of how much she loved Charlie, that she was so willing to disregard school rules to be with him.

Charlie beamed, his dimples accenting his smile as he stared down into the eyes of his girlfriend; both of them were already counting down the hours until they could be alone together again. He placed a final chaste kiss on her lips before linking their hands, pulling her back down the hill so they could meet back up with their classmates, who were getting ready to leave.

Unlinking hands before anyone noticed them, Charlie and Hermione met up with Ron and Harry in the crowd as they walked back to Hogwarts.

"Hey," Ron said to Charlie, looking at him curiously, "where's your stuff from Honeydukes?"

"I, uh," Charlie stuttered; Ron's eyes now flickered to a blushing Hermione, who was trying to fight the smile on her face. "I realized that I had forgotten my money in our dorm room — couldn't get anything."

"Right," muttered Ron, slightly suspicious. "That's too bad then."

"Yeah, I guess," Charlie shrugged before hastily trying to change the subject. "So, thirty people signed up in total, is that right?"

Hermione nodded her head, "Yeah, but that's with us included."

"Where the bloody hell are we going to fit thirty people?" Harry whispered, sounding quite exasperated.

Charlie shrugged as they walked past the winged boars that blocked the entrance once again, "We'll figure something out... we always do, don't we?"

His friends nodded vigorously in agreement, but little did the core four know, a curious woman was peering over the balcony above the entrance to the castle, listening closely to every word they said...

————————————————

At quarter to ten o'clock, Charlie and Hermione made there way out of the Gryffindor common room. They were scheduled to patrol the corridors on the first floor this evening, watching for students who might be wandering late after curfew.

The sun had set, leaving nothing but the moonlight to peer in from the windows as the two Gryffindor Prefects walked the halls. However, the sky was covered in large, dark clouds — it looked like it was going to rain. The candles were lit on the walls, shining just bright enough for them to see what was in front of them; the castle looked, for a lack of a better word, magical after the sun set.

"I've always loved the castle at night," Charlie admitted in a whisper as he walked alongside his girlfriend. "Have ever since I was little."

"What was that like?" Hermione smiled, intrigued. "Growing up here, I mean."

"Quite strange, if I'm honest," Charlie laughed. "But I loved it anyways — there was always something new to explore. Hell, there's probably still places in this castle I have yet to see."

"I'm sure you found other ways to entertain yourself," Hermione joked, giggling a bit. "I bet you know this castle better than most."

"Oh absolutely," Charlie smirked, feeling slightly proud of himself as he looked around, taking in the sight of the castle walls. "I bet I could give Hogwarts: A History a run for its money."

"Is that right?" Hermione teased. "And I'm supposed to take your word, am I?"

Charlie smiled mischievously, acting as though a challenge had been laid out for him. Within seconds, he took Hermione's hand in his and pulled her forward, heading towards the grand entrance doors that led outside.

"Uh, where are we going?" inquired Hermione, taken aback slightly, yet didn't protest. "What about patrolling the halls?"

"No one who's sneaking out after curfew would be dumb enough to be found on the first floor," Charlie laughed, checking his watch. "I wanna show you something." When they reached the doors, he turned back to Hermione, their hands still interlocked, as he gazed into her eyes, "Do you trust me?"

Hermione nodded bashfully, failing to hesitate. Charlie smiled before turning back around and opening the Entrance Hall doors, just enough for the two of them to slip out onto the school grounds. At night, the lawn in front of the castle transformed into a grotto full of fairy lights — meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the gargoyle statues.

Charlie led Hermione hastily past the greenhouses, where their Herbology classes took place, and through the vegetable patches to the outskirts of trees surrounding the property; located between the Black Lake and the boathouse.

"Charlie, what the..."

Hermione trailed off as she took a few more steps, only to be lead through to a clearing, where an old, peaceful-looking dock stood as the bridge between water and land. The dock looked incredibly worn, yet sturdy, as though it had been there for years, but was overlooked by the trees that were blocking  it to the public eye.

(A/N: photo reference!)

The only visible light was the moonlight reflecting on the water, and yet the area was illuminated by a comforting and romantic glow. Charlie stood back and watched as his girlfriend stepped forward, taking in the sight before her. The secret dock wasn't well-known, you see, not many people knew about it, but Charlie felt like it was something that Hermione would appreciate.

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed out in awe. "How did you..."

"I found it when I was a kid," said Charlie softly, answering the question that had yet to be finished. "I used to come out here and read all the time — it was somewhere I could clear my head."

"Why are you showing it to me?" asked Hermione, feeling slightly unworthy suddenly. "I mean, I'm incredibly flattered, but I can't help but feel like I'm intruding on something that's special to you."

Charlie gazed at Hermione curiously for a moment, taken aback slightly as to why she would think such a thing. He saw her shift awkwardly under his gaze; her insecurities visible on her face. Acting quickly, Charlie moved forward cupping her face in his hands to make her look at him in the eyes.

"Hey," he called out in a comforting whisper; Hermione's eyes radiating interest. "You're special to me, you know that, don't you?" He watched her melt into his hands, nodding, before he leaned his head against hers, whispering, "Hermione."

Hermione's ears immediately perked up, and any sense of anxiousness she had felt moments prior, evaporated at the whisper of her name. She couldn't explain it, but in her heart she felt an immense amount of love for how her name now fell of his lips; possibly because she knew of the deeper meaning behind it. Although it wasn't the three words she craved to hear, she knew it was intended to mean the same —

"Charlie," she whispered, reciprocating the same firmness and confidence in their love as he did.

Her boyfriend smiled widely as though he would never get tired of hearing her voice. His insides were screaming at him, telling him to admit that not only was he head over heels in love with the girl in front of him, but that he also saw his future with her and only her — yet that was where his problem lied. If he was ever going to have a future with Hermione, his father could never learn the truth; Charlie had nightmares of the Minister's reaction to his son being in love with a muggle-born...

Which is why, he savoured every moment he could with Hermione, acting like it'd be his last every time. Especially moments like this, where it was just the two of them in their own little world. Charlie leaned down to connect their lips in a soft, lingering kiss before separating and moving to the edge of the dock, pulling Hermione along with him.

They both took a seat next to one another, their legs dangling over the edge as they looked out into the water. Charlie wrapped an arm around Hermione, pulling her close and placing soft kisses on her forehead. Hermione melted into his embrace, finding the utmost comfort in his arms.

These were the good moments; the ones that mattered. Charlie couldn't explain it, but whenever he was with Hermione, she made him forget about all of his problems. His mind, heart, and soul were entirely consumed by her and only her; yet, he didn't seem to care. Instead, he considered himself the luckiest guy in the world as he peered over to his right, his mouth falling slightly agape at the beauty that sat next to him; the moonlight reflected off of Hermione's face and accented her features in a beautiful glow.

I'm so lucky, he thought, she's all mine.

The sky grew darker; the clouds bunching together, preparing to downpour, and yet the moon still peered through, making its presence known.

"I think it's going to rain," Charlie whispered, and Hermione hummed into his chest.

"I hope it does," she admitted in a content sigh. "I've always liked thunderstorms."

Charlie was intrigued, shifting his gaze back down upon his girlfriend, smiling, "Why?"

"No idea," she giggled softly. "They just always seemed so romantic to me... every girl wants a kiss in the rain, just like in the movies."

"Is that right?" Charlie said, an amused smile curling on his lips as he rested his head against hers.

Hermione nodded into his chest; she had been smiling so much that her cheeks had started to hurt. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment, with Charlie. Hermione loved him more than she ever thought was humanely possible and in his arm was where she felt at home...

Charlie sighed, pulling her from her thoughts, as he looked down at his watch, "We should probably get going, it's late."

"Noooo," drawled Hermione, burying her head further into his chest and pouting slightly. "Just a little bit longer."

"Okay," Charlie gave in, pressing his lips to her forehead once again; he secretly didn't want this moment to end either. "A few more minu—"

He was cut off as the sky began to downpour, rain coming down harshly as if on queue. Thunder boomed loudly in the distance, the storm activating in full fury, winds whipping the rain around in circles.

"We should definitely head inside now," Charlie laughed, now completely soaked, as he stood up, pulling Hermione to her feet along with him.

The two laughed together as they ran through the rain back to the castle, the cold breeze creeping up their skin. There was thunder again, loud as ever, as they reached the grotto of fairy lights. With their hands interlocked, Charlie led the way towards the door, but was confused to feel a tug back on his arm. As he stopped and turned back around, he was surprised when a pair of lips fell passionately on his.

Taking a second to process it, Charlie wrapped his hands around Hermione's waist as they snogged mindlessly in the rain. Drops of rain fell upon their faces, but they didn't seem to mind. Charlie could've sworn his heart was pounding louder than the thunder in the distance.

The lust for love was embedded in the air as Hermione deepened the kiss, running her hands through his wet hair. Rain poured down on top of them; clothes were clinging to their bodies, hair was clinging to their faces, but their bodies were clinging closely to one another. They were kissing like they were envious of the raindrops falling from each other's lips... with no care whatsoever about the cold air cutting through their skin, as their kiss had the power to light a fire deep inside of them.

They separated only when they were left gasping for air, rain soaking them entirely as they rested their heads against one another. Charlie's eyes remained closed for a second after they pulled away, shocked by the overwhelming sensation he felt in that current moment; it felt like a dream.

If you believe perfection isn't real, kiss the love of your life in the rain and I'm sure you'll change your mind...

"Was that as you imagined it?" Charlie asked softly, opening his eyes to gaze into hers.

"No," Hermione hummed in content, smiling wider than ever before, "it was so much better."

"I'm glad," Charlie whispered, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before pulling her towards the door again as the storm raged on.

The two of them were smiling like a couple of love-sick teenagers as they walked back through the castle, trailing water through the halls. The entire school was completely succumbed to the silence as it was well past midnight by now, and everyone had seemingly gone to sleep.

Hermione and Charlie tried to sneak their way back up to Gryffindor Tower without making a sound, but they came to a halt in the corridor with the Fat Lady portrait when they caught sight of Mrs. Norris waiting for them. Panicking slightly, the two Prefects locked eyes with the cat, knowing that wherever Mrs. Norris was, Filch wasn't too far away.

"Damn," cursed Charlie under his breath; Hermione visibly tensed. Thinking quickly, he pulled his girlfriend back towards the stairs, "Come on!"

They could hear the pattering of Mrs. Norris's paws on the ground behind them as they ran for it; this damn cat was adamant on turning them in. Charlie and Hermione kept running, taking every turn they could find and running up and down stairs, trying to lose the patrol cat in the process. Without realizing it, they made their way up to the seventh floor.

"Wait, wait," Hermione panted, coming to a halt in the hallway; Charlie turned to look at her, "we can't keep running from that cat all night, we need someplace to hide!"

Charlie agreed and looked around. They had reached a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.

"There's no where to go," he whispered, pulling gently on Hermione's arm once again. "Let's just keep goi—"

"Wait Charlie, look!" Hermione called again, her eyes fixated a highly polished door that had magically appeared in wall.

"What the..."

Not thinking twice about it, Hermione reached out, seizing the door handle, pulled open the door and led the way into a spacious and cozy room, lit with flames dancing in a fireplace against the wall.

The room resembled that of a cabin, with high wooden walls and grand windows, which the rain pounded against from outside. It was definitely a cozy environment with large brown couches surrounding the brick-based fireplace... but it was certainly not like any other room in the castle that Charlie had ever seen before.

(A/N: we're just gonna pretend that it's nighttime and there's rain instead of snow lol)

"What is this place?" Hermione breathed out in awe, walking in slowly.

"I think..." Charlie trailed off for a moment, looking around as he closed the door behind them, "...that this is the Room of Requirement. I remember my grandfather talking about it at the Yule Ball."

Hermione's ears perked up, her mouth falling agape, "I've read about that before... it's also known as the Come and Go Room. It's supposed to only appear, equipped with the seeker's needs, when people have a real need of it."

"And we did," Charlie added, slightly amazed. "We needed somewhere to hideout, and..." he trailed off, gesturing to their wet clothes, "...somewhere to dry off."

"I suppose so," whispered Hermione, clearly deep in thought. "Do you think it'd appear for us to use as a place for the DA lessons?"

Charlie smiled; she was always thinking on step ahead, "I don't see why not."

"This is perfect!" squealed Hermione, squeezing Charlie's hand in excitement.

"Yeah, it is," agreed Charlie, unlocking their hands to grab a quilt from the back of the couch before adding, "But that's something to worry about tomorrow, until then, however, I recommend we dry off."

Hermione giggled slightly before agreeing, nodding her head as she followed her boyfriend around the couches. Charlie peeled off his hoodie and tossed it to the other side of the room as the two of them sat on the rug near the fire. Crossing her legs, Hermione adjusted the quilt until she was comfortable and watched the dancing flames. Charlie cuddled into her, but watched the raindrops flow in vertical streams on the windows instead.

"It's quite the storm," he said softly, and he felt Hermione's head shift against him; she had followed his eyes.

"I love it," she hummed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "It's romantic."

"I'd have to agree," Charlie beamed, sighing contently as he wrapped her arms around her waist.

Missing the feeling of her lips, Charlie leaned down, tilting Hermione's head up to kiss her gently.

And what started as an innocent, little kiss, would be the beginning of something beyond self-control. He held the side of her face with his hand, kissing her gently as he felt every breath rise slowly in her chest, trying so hard to fight back the desire of wanting to feel her body on his.

Little did he know, the same burning passion was building up within Hermione as she could foresee this encounter ending similar to their countless intimate embraces... if not, even further...

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[REDACTED PER WATTPAD GUIDELINES]

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By the time the sun rose the next morning, their bodies were exhausted after going at it for hours the previous night. Charlie and Hermione were tangled up in each others arms, laying together naked on the floor by the fire.

Hermione was the first one to wake up that morning, and it took her a second to realize where she was; the memories of the previous night flooded her mind, and a blush crept onto her face. Peering over at a sleeping Charlie, she squealed internally to herself before reaching for the scattered clothes on the floor and finding her boyfriend's watch.

Her eyes widened at the time; it was nearly six o'clock, and if they wanted to sneak back into the common room undetected, they would have to leave now. Turning over, clutching the quilt to her bare chest, she shook her boyfriend awake.

"What? What's wrong?" he said groggily, opening his eyes slightly.

"We've got to go, baby," Hermione whispered, kissing him good morning before searching for her shirt.

Charlie's eyes opened wider, and Hermione watched as the realization of what had happened washed over his face. He smiled mischievously at the sight of his girlfriend's flustered state before reaching out and pulling her back into his embrace.

"I don't want to go," he whispered against her neck, making her squeal. "I want to stay here with you."

"Believe me, I don't want to leave either," Hermione sighed, reality setting in. "But we should go. Everyone's going to wake up soon."

Hermione stood up, slipping her pants back on as Charlie watched her in amazement, a smirk appearing on his face. Noticing this, Hermione threw his shirt at his face, saying, "Charlie! Get dressed!"

Laughing slightly, Charlie stood up and got dressed quickly at the request of his girlfriend. When he pulled his shirt on, he looked around for his hoodie, but couldn't find it anywhere. Hermione cooed at him, bringing his attention towards her; his hoodie was draped over her body, and he marvelled at the sight.

"Let's go," Hermione smirked, linking their hands, and pulling her boyfriend to the door.

They stepped out of the Room of Requirement into the deserted halls, which were soon to be filled with students moving to their classes. Seeing no one in the corridor, Charlie wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist from behind, holding onto her as they walked back towards Gryffindor Tower.

He only released her from his embrace when they reached the Fat Lady Portrait, which flung open when they said, "Mimbulus Mimbletonia."

Stepping through, Charlie'a arms quickly found their way back around Hermione. He couldn't get enough of her after last night, and it was the same vice versa. Hermione leaned back into him as they walked forward, closing her eyes at the feeling of Charlie's lips trailing down her neck.

The two of them had yet to come out of their own little world, and failed to realize that they weren't alone in the common room —

"Oh my god..."

Charlie and Hermione froze, snapping their heads to the couch by the fire where their two friends, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter, sat next to one another, rather closely.

Ginny had jumped up from the couch, squealing at the sight of Hermione and Charlie wrapped in each other's arms.

"I KNEW IT!" she chanted, "I KNEW IT!"

"Ginny!" hushed Hermione, her eyes wide. "Be quiet! You're going to wake up everyone!"

"Speaking of," Charlie chimed in, unwrapping himself from Hermione, and looking at Harry and Ginny curiously, "what the bloody hell are you two doing up so early?"

Harry scratched the back of his neck anxiously, "Uh, well..."

But Ginny cut him off, holding up a hand to silence him for a moment, as she smirked up at the two Gryffindor Prefects.

"Funny," she said mischievously, "I was just about to ask you two the same question."

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

So, uh, yeah... how was that lol

Anywayssssss

If you enjoyed, be sure to vote and share! Spam with comments, y'all know I love reading them <3

bye!

xo, Selena