CHAPTER TWELVE:

Third Person P.O.V.:

The holidays came and went in a blur, and the cheerfulness that spread throughout Grimmauld Place was now quickly evaporating. As the date of their departure back to Hogwarts drew nearer, Charlie became more and more prone to what Mrs. Weasley called 'fits of the sullens', in which he would become taciturn and miserable, often withdrawing to Buckbeak's room for hours at a time.

The truth was, for the first time in his entire life, Charlie was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Going back to school would mean placing himself once again under the tyranny of Dolores Umbridge, who had no doubt managed to enforce another dozen decrees in their absence; there was no Quidditch to look forward to now that he had been banned, there was every likelihood that their burden of homework would increase as the exams drew even nearer; and his grandfather remained as remote as ever.

Then, on the very last day of the holidays, something happened that made Charlie positively dread his return to school.

"Hello, dears," called Mrs. Weasley poking her head into the boys' room, where Charlie and Ron were playing wizard's chess watched by Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Crookshanks. "Harry, could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you."

Charlie did not immediately register what she had said; one of his castles was engaged in a violent tussle with a pawn of Ron's and he was egging it on enthusiastically.

"C'mon! Get him! Squash him! He's only a pawn, you idiot — sorry, Mrs. Weasley, what did you say?"

"Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen. He'd like a word with Harry."

Charlie's mouth fell open in shock. He looked around at Harry at the same time that Ron, Hermione and Ginny all gaped towards him in fear. Crookshanks, whom Hermione had been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully on to the chess board and set the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.

Harry furrowed his brows at Mrs. Weasley, "Snape?"

"Yes, Professor Snape, dear," nodded Mrs. Weasley reprovingly. "Come now, quickly, he says he can't stay long."

"What's he want with you?" asked Ron, looking unnerved as Mrs. Weasley withdrew from the room. "You haven't done anything, have you?"

"No," Harry said at once, shaking his head, "nothing that I'm aware of."

Charlie laughed loudly, "Well, when it comes to the greasy-haired git downstairs, the simplest of things could be worthy of consequence."

"Exactly," sniggered Harry, although his laugh was a bit nervous. He turned to his friends, "Come with me, will you? Maybe if we face him together, he'll be a bit less cross."

"That's highly unlikely," said Ginny, looking at the boy with glasses as though he had gone mad.

"Visiting over the holiday?" questioned Hermione, clearly aghast as she raked her mind for some sort of explanation. "Bit strange, isn't it? Even for Snape."

"On the contrary, ruining the holiday cheer sounds exactly like something Snape would do," joked Charlie; he rose to his feet and helped Hermione up as well. "Come on then, let's go see what he wants."

Ron sighed, walking to the door, "This better be good."

A minute or two later, the core four and Ginny pushed open the kitchen door to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike.

"Uh, hello Professor," said Harry, announcing himself and his friends to the room.

Snape looked around at them, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair.

"Sit down, Potter."

"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders around here, Snape. It's my house, you see."

An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Charlie quietly sat down in a chair beside Hermione, facing Snape across the table.

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," sneered Snape, narrowing his eyes at the other, clearly unwanted, spectators, "but I suppose that request was too much to comprehend —"

"I'm his godfather," said Sirius, louder than ever.

Charlie nodded, "And if we're honest, Harry's just going to tell us everything anyway."

Snape glared in Charlie's direction, his nose crunching up in clear dissatisfaction; this look would remain applied to his face as he surveyed the room.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders." said Snape, whose voice, by contrast to Sirius', was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, I know how you lot like to feel... involved."

"What's that supposed to mean?" inquired Sirius, letting his chair fall back on to all four legs with a loud bang.

"Well, in regards to you, Black, it merely means that I am sure you must feel... frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful," Snape laid a delicate stress on the word, "for the Order."

It was Sirius's turn to flush; Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry.

"The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

"Study what?" said Harry blankly.

"Occlumency," repeated Hermione, her face lighting up. "The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

Charlie looked to Harry, noticing his friend's face fall as his chest heaved rapidly, his heartbeat rising.

"Why do I have to study Occlu—whatever?" blurted Harry, confused.

"Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea," said Snape smoothly. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"

Harry gulped, "Yes, but why is it just me receiving lessons?"

"I suppose it has something to do with your recent dreams, Potter," snarled Snape darkly. "To my knowledge, no one else is vividly witnessing snake attacks in their sleep." Snape looked around the room, his eyes lingering on Charlie as he said, "And unlike others, you lack the ability of closing your mind to relentless intruders..."

What the bloody hell did that mean? Charlie thought, Why did he look at me when he said that?

Charlie narrowed his eyes in Snape's direction, his mind filling with the utmost confusion. As soon as he opened his mouth to question Snape's intent on this comment, however, the Potions Professor shifted his gaze, almost as if he was trying evade the question.

"Okay so," said Harry blankly, his mouth going dry, "who's going to be teaching me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, "I am."

"Extra lessons with Snape?" muttered Charlie under his breath, sounding aghast. "I'd rather have the bloody nightmares..."

"Could be worse," murmured Ginny, stifling a laugh in response, "I'd rather Snape than Umbitc—"

The ginger's comment was cut short when she received a scolding slap on the arm from Hermione. Charlie sniggered lowly at this, but his amused response simply earned him a narrowed glance from his girlfriend; safe to say, his laughter was quickly ceased afterwards —

"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" asked Sirius aggressively, ignoring Charlie's silent laughs. "Why does it have to be you?"

"I assure you that I did not beg for the job," said Snape silkily, rising to his feet. "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."

He turned to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.

"One more thing," said Sirius, sitting up straighter in his chair.

Snape turned back to face them, sneering.

"I am in rather a hurry, Black. Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."

"I'll get to the point then," glared Sirius, standing up and walking over to Snape with a clenched jaw. "If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to."

Snape sneered, "How touching."

"I'm warning you, Snivellus," snapped Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better than to—"

"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape tauntingly. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?"

"I find it amusing that you have the nerve to hint at cowardice." growled Sirius, his fists clenching in anger. "Tell me, how are the Death Eaters these days? What of Lucius Malfoy? I expect he's delighted that his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"

"Speaking of dogs," rebuttals Snape slowly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform... once again you've proven that you are nothing but a liability."

"Don't you dare insult me in my own home," roared Sirius, pushing his chair out of the way in a flash of rage.

"Believe me, I have no intention of staying any longer," grunted Snape, his face crunching in disgust. He turned on his heel and swept back across the kitchen, at the door he looked back, "Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter."

And he was gone. Sirius glared after him, his chest heaving with every angry breath he took. The room fell into silence; Charlie had watched the whole thing unravel with his mouth agape. Although, his mind wasn't entirely focused on Snape and Sirius's argument as much as it was preoccupied with processing the newfound information that filled his head:

Lucius Malfoy saw them with Sirius... closed off minds... what would this all mean?

———————————————

The next day they set off back to Hogwarts. Instead of taking the train (as usually expected), Charlie, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys travelled via the Knight Bus. Not long after boarding, they were rolling through a snowy Hogsmeade. Charlie caught a glimpse of the Hog's Head down its side street, the severed boar's head sign creaking in the wintry wind. Flecks of snow hit the large window at the front of the bus until at last, they rolled to a halt outside the gates to Hogwarts.

Charlie was the first off the bus, moving quickly to help the girls with their trunks. The seven children bid a farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had accompanied them on their journey, before struggling up the slippery drive towards the castle. Charlie glanced back when they reached the oaken front doors; the Knight Bus had already gone and he half-wished, given what was to come with their return, that he was still on board.

Most of the next day was spent preparing a sullen Harry for his Occlumency lesson with Snape. Their morning double-Potions lesson did nothing to dispel Harry's trepidation, as Snape was as unpleasant as ever. Not to mention, the mood was lowered further by the DA members who had approached them with pestering questions as to when the next meeting was.

It was safe to say that by six o'clock, when Charlie walked Harry to Snape's office, that the ominous feelings intensified with every step. The brown eyed boy watched his friend pause outside the door, gathering courage, before he ultimately walked in; the door closing behind him, sealing his fate. With that, Charlie made his way towards the school library where he was to meet Ron and Hermione to work on Umbridge's most recent ream of homework.

As expected, the library was full of students, nearly all of them fifth-years, who sat at lamp-lit tables, noses close to books, with quills scratching feverishly, while the sky outside the mullioned windows grew steadily blacker. The only other sound was the slight squeaking of one of Madame Pince's shoes, as the librarian prowled the aisles menacingly, breathing down the necks of those touching her precious books.

Carrying his backpack, Charlie found his two friends sitting at a desk in a far corner by themselves when he approached, and they appeared to be talking mindlessly, smiling at one another. Ron and Hermione seemed to have reconciled since their falling out in the common room before the holiday break, you see. One could assume that going through such a tragic experience like Mr. Weasley's near death, was enough to cancel out any turmoil embedded in their friendship.

"Hey," Charlie said softly, sitting down at the desk in a chair next to Hermione.

Instantly, Hermione's head turned away from her conversation with Ron. She beamed up at her boyfriend without a care in the world, much to Ron's quickly faltered smile at the interruption.

"Hi," she said before placing a chaste (and discrete) kiss on Charlie's cheek. There was moment of silence as she pulled back, scooting closer into his embrace to ask, "How was Harry when you left him?"

Expecting an immediate answer, Hermione looked up at Charlie with a curious expression. The proximity of their bodies, however, caught the attention of a silent Ron, and Charlie could've sworn he saw the ginger's hand tighten around his quill.

"Uh, he seemed okay, I guess," Charlie muttered, shifting his gaze from a jealous Ron to pull himself away from Hermione slightly; he saw her frown at this, but pretended not to notice. "So, um, how is the homework coming?"

"Fine," grumbled Ron, looking at his paper to avoid eye contact. "We've managed to get through a fair bit of it."

"Is that right?" gulped Charlie, suddenly feeling guilty for his friend's behaviour. He opened his backpack to pull out his quill and parchment, "Best get started on mine then."

"I'd be happy to help you," Hermione smiled, turning her textbook back a few pages to go back to the beginning. "Only if you need me, of course."

"Of course," Ron mimicked under his breath, annoyance evident in his voice. "Anything for Charlie."

"Don't be jealous, Ronald," snapped Hermione obliviously. Ron's head lifted in a panic, and he and Charlie shared a glance from across the table. Hermione didn't seem to notice this, however, as she went on, "I helped you with Snape's essay before the holiday."

"R-Right," stuttered Ron, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment. "Forget I said anything then..."

Trying to avoid the obvious tension, Charlie began scribbling down answers on his parchment. The three of them sat in silence for the next several minutes, and for Ron's sake, Charlie refused to ask Hermione for any help; he didn't want to add fuel to the fire of his friend's jealousy. Instead, he worked alone for a good portion of the hour until at last, he put his quill down.

"Finished," he breathed out.

Charlie carefully slipped his completed homework into his backpack and then collapsed onto the desk with an exhausted sigh. Hermione giggled at this before reaching a hand out to gently move the hair that was blocking his face. She smiled down at him, and she saw his eyes staring up at her, sparkling gold in response.

(A/N: couldn't find a single gif for this scene lmfao)

Resisting the urge to lean down and kiss him, Hermione turned back to her book, reading in her head until Ron's words interrupted her —

"Me too," he sighed, slamming him quill down in triumph. "Bloody hell, I think that's the first time I've finished my homework the day before it was due as opposed to the morning of... good to know the library is useful for something."

Hermione's ears perked up behind her book and a teasing smirk curled onto her lips. She put her book down slowly, locking eyes with a sleepy Charlie before she spoke.

"Actually," she began playfully, her eyes never shifting off of her boyfriend. She lowered her voice slightly in a sultry whisper, "I can think of a few things that the library is useful for... wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

Suddenly, as tired as he may have been, Charlie lifted himself off of the desk in a flash of shock. His face flushed a deep crimson as he peered over to his girlfriend who smirked in triumph from his reaction, even going as far as to wink at him before raising her book back up to her line of vision. Charlie said nothing, and instead, let out a small flustered cough.

Ron, who had stared between his two friends with a raised brow in confusion, opened his mouth to speak when suddenly, the three of them were joined by a very shivery-looking Harry. Charlie smiled in relief at the interruption of a probable very awkward conversation, but just as quickly as the smile appeared, it was gone again as he registered the state of his newly arrived friend.

Harry was very pale and his scar seemed to be showing up more clearly than usual. He looked almost feverish, in Charlie's opinion, and it worried him to say the least.

"How did it go?" Hermione whispered at once, and then, looking concerned. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yeah... fine... I dunno," said Harry impatiently, wincing as pain shot through his scar. "Listen... I've just realised something..."

And he told them what he had just seen and deduced. From every agonizing second under Snape's control to the vivid reminder of the dark corridor in the Department of Mysteries that he often had dreams about.

"So... are you saying..." whispered Ron, as Madame Pince swept past, squeaking slightly "that the weapon — the thing You-Know-Who's after — is in the Ministry of Magic?"

"In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be," Harry whispered in response. "I saw that door when your dad took me and Charlie down to the courtrooms for my hearing and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him."

Charlie let out a long, shaky sigh as he tried to process the information.

If Voldemort is after something in the Ministry, he thought, why can't my father simply give it to him...? What's taking so long?

His thoughts were cut short as Harry had looked to him, asking, "What's in the Department of Mysteries anyway? Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"

"They call the people who work in there Unspeakables," said Charlie, frowning. "Because no one really seems to know what they do —"

Ron interjected, "Weird place to have a weapon."

"It's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense," dismissed Hermione. "It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect... Harry, are you sure you're alright?"

For Harry had just run both his hands hard over his forehead as though trying to iron it.

"Yeah... fine..." he said, lowering his hands, which were trembling. "I just feel a bit... I don't like Occlumency much."

"I expect anyone would feel snaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again," said Charlie sympathetically. "Look, let's get back to the common room, we'll be a bit more comfortable there."

But the common room was packed and full of shrieks of laughter and excitement; Fred and George were demonstrating their latest bit of joke shop merchandise.

"Headless Hats!" shouted George, as Fred waved a pointed hat decorated with a fluffy pink feather at a curious group of students. "Two Galleons each, watch Fred, now!"

Fred swept the hat on to his head, beaming. For a second he looked rather stupid; then both, hat and head, vanished. Several girls screamed, but everyone else was roaring with laughter.

"And off again!" shouted George, and Fred's hand groped for a moment in what seemed to be thin air over his shoulder; then his head reappeared as he swept the pink-feathered hat from it.

Ignoring this, however, Charlie sat next to Hermione, peering over her shoulder at the book in her hand in attempt to distract himself from the obvious questions about the Department of Mysteries and his father's involvement that flooded his head —

"I'm going to have to do this tomorrow," Harry muttered, pushing the books he had just taken out of his bag back inside it. "I think I'll go to bed early."

Charlie watched his friend walk across the common room, dodging George, who tried to put a Headless Hat on him, and reach the peace and cool of the stone staircase to the boys' dormitories. He noticed Harry's pale face, looking as though he was going to be before as his friend ascended the stairs.

"You should go check on him," whispered Hermione, pulling Charlie's gaze towards her. "His defences will be low since Snape's been fiddling around in his head. He's your best friend. Go on. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Charlie nodded, reaching his hand out to hold hers for a moment as a term of endearment before whispering, "Okay, goodnight."

Hermione beamed at him, discretely winking in response. Charlie smiled at his girlfriend once more before getting up from his seat and setting off towards the staircase to the dormitories.

A minute or two later, he opened the door and was about to step inside when suddenly, he caught a glimpse of Harry laying on the floor, eyes closed and laughing like a psychopath while the scar on his head throbbed.

"Harry?" Charlie asked, panicked as he ran over, bending down over Harry's body. "HARRY!"

With no response but manic laughter, Charlie lifted his right hand and smacked Harry across the face a couple of times in attempt to help him regain consciousness. Seconds after, Harry opened his eyes and the moment he realized the laughter was coming from his mouth, it died away.

Charlie looking incredibly worried and hovering over Harry in a panic, asked, "What happened?"

"I... dunno..." Harry gasped, sitting up. "He's really happy... really happy..."

"Voldemort is?"

"Something good's happened," mumbled Harry; he was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr. Weasley and felt very sick. "Something he's been hoping for."

The words came as though a stranger was speaking them through Harry's mouth, yet he knew they were true. He took deep breaths, willing himself not to vomit all over Charlie.

"Bloody hell," sighed Charlie, helping Harry to his feet, "this whole Occlumency thing better help in the long run..."

He looked doubtfully at Harry as he helped him towards his bed. Harry nodded without any conviction and slumped back on his pillows, his scar still prickling painfully.

Both boys couldn't help wondering, as they went to sleep that night, what had happened to make Lord Voldemort the happiest he had been in fourteen years.

——————————————

Their question was answered the very next morning. When Hermione's Daily Prophet arrived she smoothed it out, gazed for a moment at the front page and gave a yelp that caused everyone in the vicinity to stare at her.

"What's wrong?" asked Charlie immediately, a look of concern flashing over his face. "What is it?"

Instead of answering, Hermione spread the newspaper on the table in front of Charlie, Harry, and Ron, and pointed at ten black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

But Charlie's eyes were drawn to the picture of the witch. Her face had leapt out at him the moment he had seen the page. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture. She glared up at him through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. Like Sirius, she retained vestiges of great good looks, but something — perhaps Azkaban — had taken most of her beauty.

Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Hermione nudged her boyfriend and pointed at the headline over the pictures, which Charlie, concentrating on Bellatrix, had not yet read.

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

"There you are, Harry," said Charlie, looking awestruck as he skimmed the rest of the article. "That's why he was so happy last night."

"I can't believe this is happening," said Hermione, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "First, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort — stop whimpering, Ronald — and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out, too."

The core four fell silent as a sudden foreboding lingered over their heads. They looked at each other for a moment, then Hermione pulled the newspaper back towards her, glared for a moment at the pictures, then rolled it up, tucking it away into the pocket of her robes.

Meanwhile, Charlie looked around the Great Hall. He could not understand why his fellow students were not looking scared or at least discussing the terrible piece of news on the front page, but quickly realized that very few of them read the newspaper every day like Hermione. There they all were, talking about homework and Quidditch and who knew what other rubbish, when outside these walls ten more Death Eaters had swollen Voldemort's ranks.

He glanced up at the staff table. It was a different story there: his grandfather and Professor McGonagall were deep in conversation, both looking extremely grave. At the far end of the table, Professor Umbridge was tucking into a bowl of porridge. For once her pouchy toad's eyes were not sweeping the Great Hall looking for misbehaving students. She scowled as she gulped down her food, and every now and then she shot a malevolent glance up the table to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking so intently.

Charlie observed quietly, wondering how much more bad news he could stand... and it was only the second day back —

The fact that the ten Death Eaters escaped Azkaban became common knowledge within the school over the next few days. Rumours were flying that some of the convicts had been spotted in Hogsmeade, that they were supposedly hiding out in the Shrieking Shack, and that they were going to break into Hogwarts, just as Sirius Black had once done.

Those who came from wizarding families had grown up hearing the names of these Death Eaters spoken with almost as much fear as Voldemorts; the crimes they had committed during the days of Voldemort's reign of terror were legendary. There were relatives of their victims among the Hogwarts students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors.

Even Harry became the subject of much renewed muttering and pointing in the corridors these days, yet he thought he detected a slight difference in the tone of the whisperers' voices. They sounded curious rather than hostile now, and once or twice Charlie was sure he overheard snatches of conversation that, suggested that the speakers were not satisfied with the Prophet's version of how and why ten Death Eaters had managed to break out of the Azkaban fortress. In their confusion and fear, these doubters now seemed to be turning to the only other explanation available to them: the one that Harry, Charlie and Dumbledore had been expounding since the previous year... Lord Voldemort was back.

And unbelievably, when the article was spread around the castle, it didn't take long for Seamus to approach the core four, specifically Harry, in the Great Hall.

"I, uh, wanted to apologize," he mumbled, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself. "Even me mam is saying the Prophet's version of things don't add up... so, what I'm really trying to say is that I believe you."

It was not only the students' mood that had changed either. It was now quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment they saw students approaching.

"They obviously can't talk freely in the staff room anymore," said Hermione in a low voice, as she, Charlie, Harry and Ron passed Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout huddled together outside the Charms classroom one day. "Not with Umbridge there."

"Reckon they know anything new?" inquired Ron, gazing back over his shoulder at the three teachers.

"If they do, we're not going to hear about it, are we?" said Harry angrily.

"Exactly," whispered Charlie bitterly. "Especially not after Decree... what number are we on now?"

For new notices had appeared on the house noticeboards the morning after news of the Azkaban breakout:

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

This latest Decree had been the subject of a great number of jokes among the students. Lee Jordan had pointed out to Umbridge that by the terms of the new rule, she was not allowed to tell Fred and George off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class.

And when Charlie next saw Lee, the back of his hand was bleeding rather badly... Charlie recommended essence of Murtlap as much as it pained him to know that he wasn't the only one —

Charlie had thought the breakout from Azkaban might have humbled Umbridge a little, that she might have been abashed at the catastrophe that had occurred right under the nose of her beloved Minister. It seemed, however, to have only intensified her furious desire to bring every aspect of life at Hogwarts under her personal control.

Many classes, including Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, were now being conducted in the presence of Umbridge and her clipboard. Under heavy surveillance, Hagrid seemed to have lost his nerve. He was oddly distracted and jumpy during lessons, losing the thread of what he was saying to the class, answering questions wrongly, and all the time glancing anxiously at Umbridge. He was also more distant with Charlie, Harry, Ron and Hermione than he had ever been before, and had expressly forbidden them to visit him after dark.

"If she catches yeh, it'll be all of our necks on the line," he told them flatly, and with no desire to do anything that might jeopardise his job further, they abstained from walking down to his hut in the evenings.

It seemed to Charlie that Umbridge was steadily depriving him of everything that made his life at Hogwarts worth living: visits to Hagrid's house, freedom, and Quidditch... ultimately making him fear whether or not his relationship with Hermione would be what was taken from him next. Charlie took his revenge the only way he could — by putting the entirety of his focus into the DA.

Naturally, when the meetings began occurring as frequently before, everyone had been spurred on to work harder than ever by the news that ten more Death Eaters were now on the loose, but in nobody was this improvement more pronounced than in Neville. The news of his parents' attackers' escape had wrought a strange, and even slightly alarming, change in him. Charlie, noticing this, worked relentlessly with Neville on every new jinx and counter-curse Harry taught them, supporting his friend through his newfound concentration that was driven with a powerful intensity.

Harry would have given a great deal to be making as much progress at Occlumency as Neville was making during the DA meetings. On the contrary to Neville, however, Harry felt he was getting worse with every lesson. Nowadays, Harry's scar prickled nonstop, and he often felt lurches of annoyance or cheerfulness that were unrelated to what was happening to him at the time. What was more, he was now dreaming about walking down the corridor towards the entrance to the Department of Mysteries almost every night, dreams which always culminated in him standing longingly in front of the plain black door.

"Maybe it's a bit like an illness," suggested Charlie, looking concerned when Harry confided in him, Hermione and Ron. "A fever or something. It has to get worse before it gets better."

"The lessons with Snape are making it worse," said Harry flatly. "I'm getting sick of my scar hurting and I'm getting bored with walking down that corridor every night." He rubbed his forehead angrily. "I just wish the door would open, I'm sick of standing staring at it —"

"That's not funny," said Hermione sharply. "Dumbledore doesn't want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn't have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You're just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons."

"I am working!" said Harry, nettled. "You try it some time — with Snape trying to get inside your head — it's not a bundle of laughs, you know!"

Ron gulped slowly, "Maybe..."

"Maybe what?" said Hermione, rather snappishly.

"Maybe it's not Harry's fault he can't close his mind," suggested Ron darkly.

Charlie furrowed his brows, "What are you on about?"

Ron shrugged, whispering, "Well, maybe Snape isn't really trying to help Harry..."

Harry, Charlie and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other.

"Maybe," he said again, in a lower voice, "he's actually trying to open Harry's mind a bit wider... make it easier for You-Know—"

"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione angrily. "How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough."

"He used to be a Death Eater," said Ron stubbornly. "And we've never seen proof that he really swapped sides."

"My grandfather trusts him," Charlie dismissed, sounding calm, yet annoyed. "And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone."

With so much to worry about and so much to do — startling amounts of homework that frequently kept the fifth-years working until past midnight, secret DA sessions and dealing with Harry's regular classes with Snape — January seemed to be passing alarmingly fast. Before Charlie knew it, February had arrived, bringing with it wetter and warmer weather and the prospect of the second Hogsmeade visit of the year. Charlie had very little time to plan a Valentine's Day date for him and Hermione, but found himself scrambling together a day spent entirely in the company of his girlfriend.

On the morning of the fourteenth, he set off for Hogsmeade with Hermione, Ginny, and Harry; Ron had to stay back to participate in Angelina's much-wanted full day of Quidditch training... not that Charlie was complaining. After being checked off of McGonagall's list, Charlie and Hermione walked side by side, leading the way in front of Ginny and Harry all the way down the drive and out through the gates.

After entering Hogsmeade, it started to rain; cold, heavy drops of water kept hitting Charlie's face and the back of his neck. Trying to find cover, the four of them wandered into Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop. It was a cramped, steamy little place where everything seemed to have been decorated with frills or bows; Charlie was reminded unpleasantly of Umbridge's office.

Not long after, Charlie and Harry excused themselves to the front counter to order the drinks while Hermione and Ginny scrambled to find a table big enough for the four of them.

"What can I get you, m'dears?" said Madame Puddifoot, a very stout woman with shiny black hair, beaming at them from behind the counter as the two boys approached.

"Four Butterbeers, please," said Charlie politely, pulling out a few Galleons from his pocket to give them to her.

A minute or two later, the boys retreated to the far corner of the room with their drinks in hand. Sliding into a chair beside Hermione, Charlie set her drink down in front of her and smiled.

"Cute, isn't it?" whispered Hermione happily, looking around as she scooted as close to Charlie as possible without making things extremely obvious.

"Look, Madame Puddifoot's decorated for Valentine's Day," beamed Ginny across the table, indicating a number of golden cherubs that were hovering over each of the circular tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants.

Harry gulped, unaware of what to say, "It's, uh, very..."

"Pink," Charlie finished, laughing slightly, giving Harry the go ahead to laugh along with him.

"Boys," murmured Ginny to Hermione, shaking her head. "Completely clueless."

Hermione shrugged with a giggle, linking her hand with Charlie's under the table, "They make up for it in other ways."

Ginny laughed loudly, brushing the hair out of Harry's face adorably with a seductive wink, "That's true, innit?"

"Merlin, Gin," gasped Hermione, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "That's not what I meant! I was talking about romantic gestures!"

"Oh, right, yeah," said a flustered Ginny, taking a sip from her cup to avoid confrontation.

Charlie chuckled softly, raising his Butterbeer to his lips. A moment of silence passed, and when the cherub above them threw another handful of confetti, Harry opened his mouth to speak.

"Since we're on the topic, I've been wondering 'Mione," he said abruptly, smirking mischievously, "what kind of romantic gestures is my friend here capable of?" He looked to Charlie with a playful smile, "I'd love to know all the blackmail-worthy details!"

Charlie furrowed his brows, warning, "Harry —"

"He best be treating you like a bloody princess, I'll tell you that," added Harry, trying to sound stern but the amusement was evident in his voice, "because he'll have me to answer to if not."

"Rest assured, Harry," giggled Hermione, going along with the joke as she snuggled into Charlie's arm. "Charlie is the perfect gentleman."

Charlie felt his face growing hot and tried staring out of the window, but it was so steamed up that he couldn't see the street outside. To postpone the moment when he would have to look at Harry, he stared up at the ceiling, as though examining the paintwork, and received a handful of confetti in the face from their hovering cherub.

"Oh, please do elaborate," smirked Harry, stifling a laugh by raising his mug to his lips; Ginny wiggled her eyebrows in Hermione's direction, signalling Charlie's flustered state.

Hermione turned, smirking slightly at Charlie's reddening cheeks as he peered up at the ceiling mindlessly to avoid embarrassment.

"He loves to cuddle," she teased in a low whisper; Charlie's cheeks grew redder as Harry's amused smile became more prominent. "He plans secret little rendezvous for the two of us, and even whispers sweet nothings like —"

"Alright!" exclaimed Charlie, snapping his head to Hermione in disbelief; his face almost as red as Ginny's hair. "That's enough."

"Oh c'mon," pouted Harry. "We were just getting to the good stuff! Don't be such a tosser."

"Yeah?" said Charlie, raising a challenging brow. He turned to Ginny, "Let's talk about Harry —"

"Ooooo," drawled Ginny, smirking mischievously, "Let's."

The amused expression plastered on Harry's face was quickly replaced with one of shock, his eyes opening wide in panic. Quickly, he stood up, downing the rest of his Butterbeer in one gulp, and pulling Ginny up from her chair before she could open her mouth again.

"C'mon," he urged her towards the door, "let's, uh, go to Honeydukes."

"Oh c'mon," mimicked Charlie; it was his turn to smirk. "We were just getting to the good stuff! Don't be such a tosser."

"Funny," said Harry rolling his eyes. He swept his way across the room with Ginny, stopping at the door to turn, point at Charlie and Hermione with a stern finger and laugh, "Have her home by five o'clock young man! Not a second later or you'll be sorry!"

The loud laughter of Ginny and Harry intertwined with the pouring rain as they made their way outside, but shortly after, the door closed with the sound of a chime.

Charlie shook his head, smiling in amusement as he mumbled after Harry, "Absolute tosser."

"It's nice to see him happy for once," sighed Hermione contently before taking a sip of her Butterbeer. "Feels like we haven't seen him smile in ages."

"He's going through a lot," shrugged Charlie, frowning slightly. He breathed slowly, whispering, "We all are."

"Best not to focus on it, I reckon," said Hermione gently, squeezing Charlie's hand in reassurance. "Focusing on the positives for once might do us some good."

Nodding, Charlie smiled softly. Listening to the rain splatter against the windows, and bashfully unable to stop himself from thinking about his first time with Hermione, Charlie downed the last cold dregs of his Butterbeer. Hermione hummed contently, making sure the coast was clear before she leaned her head on Charlie's shoulder; he immediately turned to kiss her forehead softly, smiling against her hair.

"Something positive — like..." drawled Hermione, "our one year anniversary that's coming up."

"Right, yeah," beamed Charlie, tracing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "Can't believe it's been a year already."

"An amazing year," corrected Hermione bashfully, turning her head to bury it into the crook of her boyfriend's neck to conceal her smile. Shortly after, she raised her head, gazing into Charlie's eyes as she whispered, "I love you."

Charlie felt his heart swoon as the words left her lips; it was like hearing it for the first time all over again. His heart began to race in his chest, and his lips parted as if he was going to say it back, but then he restrained himself for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Instead, he raised his free hand to caress the side of her face as he spoke lowly, "You know, if we were alone right now, I'd kiss you..."

"What's stopping you?" questioned Hermione mindlessly, gazing from his eyes to his lips, but when Charlie's narrowed one confusion, she added, "I've been thinking... that maybe this whole 'sneaking around' thing is starting to lose its charm..."

Charlie gulped, looking at Hermione intently, "What are you saying?"

"Harry, Ginny and Ron already know," shrugged Hermione, searching Charlie's face for a distinct reaction, "I don't see a reason for us to keep this" — she gestured between the two of them — "a secret anymore. I want to be able to kiss you in public without worrying about getting caught... or hold your hand when we walk through the halls... or share a cuddle on the common room couch after a long day of classes."

Charlie said nothing, and yet his mind raced. Their cherub threw another handful of confetti over them; some of it landing within in Charlie's hair to which he had to shake his head in attempt to remove it.

We can't go public now, he thought, not with Umbridge lurking around every corner, waiting to report back to my father...

"I thought you'd be thrilled," said Hermione, frowning as she furrowed her brows in confusion at Charlie's fallen face. "I thought that this is what you've wanted since the beginning...?"

Charlie breathed slowly, his voice trembling as he said, "Hermione, I —"

"Do you not want this anymore?" whispered Hermione, self-doubt radiating in her voice. "Is that why you pulled away from me the other day in the library?"

"No! God, no — that's not it at all," defended Charlie at once, reaching out for Hermione again, but this time she moved away from him, releasing his hand from her grasp.

"Then what is it?" she asked insecurely.

Charlie sighed, "It's just... complicated —"

But this, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

As soon as the word left Charlie's lips, Hermione's whole mood seemed to change within an instant. It was if the word had triggered a rage deep inside her, and to Charlie's horror, her eyes instantly changed from sadness to anger.

"I don't get why things are always so complicated with you," whispered Hermione in a tone of angry disbelief. "Forgive me, but I fail to see what part of publicizing our relationship is so damn complicated."

"Hermione, please," Charlie pleaded, frowning. "You don't understand —"

"Then help me to!" interjected Hermione, her voice rising slightly before she bit her tongue in attempt to remain calm. She exhaled slowly, "I've told you before... we're supposed to be in this together."

Charlie shifted his gaze, his jaw clenching as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He whispered gently, "Not all my battles are yours to fight."

For a moment, Hermione opened her mouth to rebuttal, but froze once she met Charlie's saddened eyes. Instead, she released a shaky breath in attempt to fight tears from forming in her eyes. Soon enough, Hermione sprang to her feet, shifting uncomfortably as she spoke.

She avoided Charlie's questioning eyes as she whispered lowly, "I'm going to head back."

Charlie's eyes widened, rising to his feet at once, "Let me come with yo—"

"No," dismissed Hermione quickly, "I need time to think... and I'd prefer to do it alone."

"Oh... o-okay," stuttered Charlie, his body tensing with worry at what this could mean. "I'll, uh, see you later then?"

Hermione didn't say anything, however, she simply nodded slowly before she dashed for the door, pulling it open and hurrying off into the pouring rain. Charlie watched her leave with a frown, slumping back down in his seat. He felt Madame Puddifoot's curious gaze fall upon him from across the room, but that didn't stop him from running his hands over his face exasperatedly.

Stupid, he thought, you're so damn stupid.

———————————————

Several hours and a trip to a flower shop later, Charlie made his way back to Hogwarts through the pouring rain, carrying a single rose in his hand as an apology gift. He walked into the castle, but came to a halt when he overheard a muffled commotion coming from what he thought might be the Entrance Hall.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, then walked down the corridor, tucking the rose safely into the inside pocket of his jacket. The screams were growing louder as he ran towards the stone steps leading up from the courtyard. When Charlie reached the top, he found the Entrance Hall packed with curious students flooding from various parts of the castle. Pushing through a knot of tall Slytherins, it didn't take long for him to find Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Ron amongst the crowd.

"What's going on?" whispered Charlie at once, his eyes widening in concern.

"It's Professor Trelawney," said Hermione lowly, pulling Charlie closer so he could get a better view of the centre of the onlookers' circle.

Charlie raised his head and instantly noticed Professor McGonagall on the other side of the Hall; she looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside-down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something Charlie could not see but which seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.

"No!" she shrieked. "NO! This cannot be happening... it cannot... I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realise this was coming?" said a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused, and Charlie, moving slightly to his right, even closer to Hermione, saw that Trelawney's terrifying vision was nothing other than Professor Umbridge. "Incapable though you are of predicting tomorrows weather, you must surely have realised that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?"

"You c-can't!" howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home," corrected Professor Umbridge, and Charlie was revolted to see enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, on to one of her trunks, "until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us."

But she stood and watched, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking backwards and forwards on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Charlie heard a muffled sob to his left and looked around. Lavender and Parvati were both crying quietly, their arms round each other. Then he heard footsteps. Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back.

"There, there, Sybill, dear... calm down... it's not as bad as you think... you are not going to have to leave Hogwarts..."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is...?"

"That would be mine," said a deep voice.

The oaken front doors had swung open. Students beside them scuttled out of the way as Dumbledore appeared in the entrance. What he had been doing out in the grounds Charlie could not imagine, but there was something impressive about the sight of him framed in the doorway against an oddly misty and stormy night. Leaving the doors wide open behind him, he strode forwards through the circle of onlookers towards Professor Trelawney, tear-stained and trembling on her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" said Umbridge, with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand your position. May I remind you that under the terms of Education Decree Number —"

To Charlie's very great surprise, Dumbledore continued to smile. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, who was still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and said, "You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to banish them from the grounds. I am afraid," he went on, with a courteous little bow, "that the power to do that still resides with the Headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continues to live at Hogwarts."

At this, Professor Trelawney gave a wild little laugh in which a hiccup was barely hidden.

"N-No, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere —"

"Nonsense," said Dumbledore sharply. "It is my wish that you remain, Sybill."

He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course," smiled McGonagall at once, reaching for Trelawney's arm. "Up you get, Sybill..."

Professor Sprout came hurrying forwards out of the crowd and grabbed Professor Trelawney's other arm. Together, they guided her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs. Professor Flitwick went scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaked, Locomotor Trunks, and Professor Trelawney's luggage rose into the air and proceeded up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.

"For now, Dumbledore..." Umbridge said hauntingly, watching Trelawney and the other teachers disappear with a glare, "just for now."

With that, Umbridge turned, clicking her heels down the hall in a rapid, and angry, strut as she disappeared out of sight. Shortly after, the crowd dispersed in a murmur of shock and fear. The core four said nothing as they made their way back towards Gryffindor Tower, they simply let the silence allow them to process what had happened.

"I've got a feeling Umbridge has only just started being horrible," whispered Hermione darkly as her, Charlie, Ron, and Harry clambered through the portrait hole.

"Impossible," said Ron, shaking his head. "She can't get any worse than she's been already."

"She's going to want revenge on Dumbledore for going against her orders like that," sighed Harry miserably. "Who knows what'll that mean for us."

Charlie gulped, frowning slightly, "I'd rather not think about it."

His friends seemed to agree, however, as they nodded before moving to depart to the staircases leading up to their dormitories; Ron and Harry to the left, and Hermione to the right. Charlie, who was stood at the back of the group and had yet to move, grabbed ahold of the chain dangling from his neck and pressed the button on the back in a swift movement.

Almost instantly, Hermione came to a halt about two steps up the girl's dormitory stairs, the bracelet on her wrist lighting up as she turned back around, her mouth twitching to decipher between a frown and a smile. When her eyes locked with Charlie's, he signalled towards a private study that was located off of the main common room lounge.

With a small sigh, Hermione nodded, retreating back down the stairs and following as Charlie led her into the private room; Ron watched the two disappear behind the door with a distinct frown before ascending up the stairs after Harry.

Charlie stood silent for a moment, unaware of what to say or do; Hermione watched him with curious eyes, waiting for him to speak. When a minute or two of silence had passed, Charlie reached inside his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a single red rose to hold it out in front of him.

"I'm sorry for ruining your Valentine's Day," he said softly, his head shamefully looking towards the floor. "I never wanted to upset you... that wasn't, and will never be, my intention. I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry."

There was a single second of silent anticipation, making Charlie think that he was completely done for. He didn't seem to notice Hermione's face soften upon his apology as she realized just how blown out of proportion this whole thing had been. Unaware, Charlie's entire body tensed once again when Hermione breathed slowly and took a step towards him.

"You know," she began, reaching to take the rose from his hands, her lips curling upwards, "I always seem to have a hard time staying mad at you..." She giggled softly, "...no matter how annoyed you make me sometimes."

Charlie looked up instantly, his body falling at ease as he noticed the small smile on her face. He breathed slowly, his voice shaky, "I'm sorry... I said some things I didn't mean."

"So did I," Hermione whispered at once, taking a step forward to snake her arms around his neck, rose still in her hands; Charlie immediately rested his forehead against hers in. "But the beauty of being in a secure relationship like ours is that we can go through things that are meant to tear us apart, and come out even stronger than before."

"Secure," repeated Charlie, liking the way the word felt coming from his lips; he had never felt such a profound sense of security before Hermione. "I like that."

Hermione giggled, her warm breath ricocheting off the skin on his face due to their close proximity.

"Well, I like you," she whispered playfully, a teasing smirk forming on her lips, "a lot actually."

"Yeah?" challenged Charlie, smiling happily. "Good thing then, because I like you a lot too."

They shared a laugh, both subconsciously realizing how far they'd come since last year where they would've let such a silly argument tear them apart. When silence overcame them again, Hermione closed the gap between their lips, placing hers against his and channeling every bit of passion within her into the kiss. Charlie reciprocated, internally beaming as the two of them moulded together; he was home, and more importantly, they were going to be okay.

After a few moments, Hermione pulled back, panting, "I'm a patient person, Charlie. I can respect your decision to wait... but please, for future reference, communicate with me better. I don't want to feel shut out to what's going on in your life."

Charlie hesitated for a moment, Hermione's eyes searching his for the agreement of her wishes. He froze, however, struggling to decide whether or not agreeing to this would ultimately fracture his relationship in the long-term battle. You see, as much as he wanted to, there was forever going to be a part of Charlie that he couldn't share with anyone... even Hermione, for the fear of being looked at as nothing more than his father's son was unbearable —

And yet, he selfishly nodded his head, willing to agree to anything in attempt to put their argument behind them. He exhaled slowly, "Okay."

"Good," beamed Hermione, pecking him on the lips once more. Pulling back, she retracted one of her hands from behind his neck, revealing the rose once again with a smile, "I love it, by the way... it's incredibly thoughtful."

"It was between that and some sweets from Honeydukes," admitted Charlie, laughing slightly. "I figured the rose was a bit more romantic."

"My perfect gentleman," teased Hermione; Charlie's eyes widened in horror upon the reminder of his moment of embarrassment in the tea shop. She giggled, stepping up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, "Turns out I was right all along, wasn't I?"

Charlie blushed, his face turning crimson as he whispered, "Yeah, well... only for you."

"Damn right," smirked Hermione, snogging him deeply once again out of excitement; it was as if their fight never happened. After several moments of passionate kissing, she pulled back, whispering against his lips, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

"Happy Valentine's Day."

———————————————

Charlie awoke the next morning, laying against the hard wooden floor and tangled within the arms of Hermione with a conjured blanket draped over top of them. They were still in the small study room, and as one could assume by the locked door and the various discarded clothes around the room, they hadn't left since the previous evening —

Sound asleep to his right, with her head propped up against his bare chest, was Hermione. The blanket was covering her exposed skin to the best of its ability, and Charlie looked to the ceiling with a proud smirk as the previous night's event filled his head; they had been busy, to say the least...

With an exhausted yawn, Charlie raised his arms in a stretch, reaching far enough to hit his jacket that was sprawled on the floor. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, Charlie used his other to fiddle inside his jacket pocket, pulling out his watch to check the time. His eyes widened instantly; it was nearly twelve o'clock in the afternoon.

Sighing to himself, Charlie leaned over to shake Hermione awake. Her eyes fluttered open seconds later, and she cuddled into her boyfriend's chest upon realization of where she was. Charlie kissed the top of her head as a term of endearment and she hummed contently.

Charlie smiled softly, whispering, "C'mon, we've got to get up."

"Nooo," drawled Hermione adorably, her eyes closed again as her lips curled in a cheeky smile.

There was a peaceful minute of silence, and she took advantage of their stillness to enjoy his warm breath weave into her hair and the sound of his steady heartbeat filling her left ear.

"Baby, it's almost noon," Charlie muttered, lazily sitting up and stretching his sleepy limbs.

Hermione groaned at the loss of contact before moving quickly, holding the blanket to her bare chest, as she sat up after him. She rested her head against the smooth and toned muscles that accented his back.

"But it's Saturday," she murmured back as she slipped her hands around him and hummed contently, kissing him on the back of the neck. "Let's stay here for a bit longer... please?"

"Ron and Harry are probably wondering where we are," hummed Charlie contently, enjoying the feeling of her lips.

"Let them wonder," muttered Hermione, and Charlie could feel her smirk against his skin.

"We said we'd help set up for the DA meeting," sighed Charlie, turning his head slightly to look at his girlfriend with his peripheral vision. "Harry wants to do Patronuses today."

"Patronuses, huh?" teased Hermione, lifting her head to kiss his now-exposed cheek before settling within the crook of his neck. "I wonder what happy moment you'll be thinking of..."

Charlie smiled softly, goosebumps forming when her breath trickled down his skin.

"Something about you, I reckon," he whispered, trying to be affectionate as he held her hands in reassurance. "And you?"

"Something about Viktor Krum," said Hermione at once, giggling uncontrollably at her own joke when Charlie's mouth fell agape.

"Think that's funny, do you?" challenged Charlie, and when Hermione kept giggling against his skin, he said, "Right then, how about this —"

In a swift movement, Charlie spun around, rolling on top of Hermione's body and pinning her to the floor with one hand, while the other began tickling her sides, causing her to squirm beneath him. Laughter filled the room, interrupting Hermione every single time she tried to make him stop.

"No, stop... that tickles... Charlieeeee!"

"Not until you take it back," laughed Charlie, continuing to move his hands along various ticklish spots on her body.

"Okay... okay!" Hermione panted, her giggles becoming infectious and extremely loud — good thing there was a silencing charm on the door. "I take... it back! I'm going to... think about... you! The first time... we met... and the first time... we kissed!"

Smirking victoriously, Charlie ceased his attack of tickles on her body; Hermione's laughter died out slowly as her chest heaved to catch her breath. When she finally calmed down, she looked up at her boyfriend's amused expression and rolled her eyes.

"I hate you."

Charlie shook his head, "You love me."

Hermione sighed, giving in immediately, "I do."

Laughing lightly, Charlie leaned down to connect their lips; Hermione met him half way, smiling into the kiss. They kissed for a few minutes, relishing in their much-needed alone time with everything going on, until Charlie pulled back, rising to his feet.

"C'mon," he whispered, extending a hand to help his girlfriend up. "Get dressed, we've got to go."

Nodding reluctantly, Hermione allowed Charlie to pull her up. They both got dressed quickly, making themselves presentable before fixing the mess they made by putting the room back to the way it was.

When they were both ready to leave, Hermione turned to Charlie before reaching for the door handle, "Wait five minutes, go get changed and then meet me in the Great Hall, okay? We'll go find Harry and Ron."

Charlie nodded, and with one more quick peck on the lips, Hermione wretched open the door and disappeared behind it. After watching his girlfriend leave, Charlie leaned his head against the oak wood, humming contently.

A single thought in his head repeated on a loop: You are completely, and undeniably, in love with that girl...

——————————————

Charlie stumbled into the Room of Requirement later that evening for the DA meeting. Showing up slightly earlier then everyone else, he was succumbed to the silence of the training room, but was surprisingly not alone. The room held one occupant within it when Charlie arrived: Neville Longbottom.

The cowardly Gryffindor stood by himself in front of the giant blackboard that Harry often used to write on during the meetings. Taped to the side of the board hung a photo of the original Order of the Phoenix, which was what Neville seemed to be focusing on intently.

"Neville?" called Charlie, making his presence known as he walked up alongside his friend. "Are you alright?"

"I'm quite proud to be their son, you know," said Neville abruptly, his eyes never shifting from the moving photograph; Charlie looked up, frowning slightly upon realization that his friend was speaking of his parents. "Even after being... tortured for information... they never gave in."

"They embodied an undoubtable amount of loyalty and courage," said Charlie gently, gazing up the at the photo with gratitude. "And I can say, with complete confidence, that you've inherited those same qualities."

Neville smiled softly, pointing to the photograph, "You know, there's something reassuring about knowing that they were all friends..."

Following his friend's gaze, Charlie's face fell slightly when he looked to see his mother smiling back at him, reminding him of what he was fighting for. The use of past-tense words sent a surge of sadness through Charlie's body and he froze, unaware of what to say. He took a second to gather himself together before reaching a hand up to place it on Neville's shoulder consolingly.

"Yeah... and now we're going to make them proud," he said with a sympathetic smile. When Neville turned with a doubtful look, Charlie was quick to reassure him by saying, "That's a promise."

Sharing a single nod, the two Gryffindor's glanced at the photograph once more before the Room of Requirement door opened, and the rest of the DA members came piling through, looking as eager as ever... although, Charlie seemed to be the only one to notice the absence of Zacharias Smith. Shrugging this off, Charlie made his rounds, saying hello to everyone, talking to Elaina for a few minutes, and avoiding Romilda Vane as much as possible before making his way to the front with Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

When the group settled into their spots, Harry addressed them all at once, "Today, we'll be working with the Patronus Charm —"

There was surge of applause and squeals from the group as they all had been awaiting this lesson since the holiday break.

"Yes, it's exciting, I know," beamed Harry, looking thoroughly pleased with the reaction. "Now, the Patronus Charm is a form of advanced magic which even the most qualified wizards can struggle with. But think of it this way, every great wizard in history started out as nothing more than what we are now: students. If they can do it, why not us?"

And with that, the members of the DA were filled with a newfound confidence as they each took their positions at different sides of the room, wands at the ready.

"Think of a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember!" called Harry as he circled the room, prepared to help those who were struggling. "Allow it to fill you up, channel it into your incantation!"

Charlie sent a cheeky wink from Hermione across the room, causing her to blush and bashfully turn her head.

Raising his wand with a small laugh, Charlie thought hard about his first kiss with Hermione before shouting, "Expecto Patronum!"

As expected, his familiar silvery falcon-shaped Patronus shot out of the tip of his wand, flying around the room mindlessly. Charlie smiled up at it, watching it, but keeping himself focused.

"That's it, Charlie, great example!" applauded Harry. "Fred, you're next!"

"Expecto Patronum."

"Expecto Patronum!"

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Not long after, silvery animal-shaped Patronuses filled the room, representing the personality of its caster. Everyone was overwhelming happy, though, as Harry kept reminding them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they were not under threat, was very different from producing it when confronted by something like a Dementor.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," said Elaina brightly, watching her silvery fox-shaped Patronus prance around the Room of Requirement. "They're so pretty!"

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," laughed Harry, smiling at her progress. "What we really need is a boggart or something; that's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a Dementor —"

"But that would be really scary!" squealed Lavender, who was shooting puffs of silver vapour out of the end of her wand. "And I still — can't — do it!" she added angrily.

Neville was having trouble, too. His face was screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issued from his wand tip.

"You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded him.

"I'm trying," said Neville miserably, who was trying so hard his round face was actually shining with sweat.

"Harry, I think I'm doing it!" yelled Seamus, who had been brought along to his first ever DA meeting by Dean. "Look — ah — it's gone... but it was definitely something!"

Hermione's Patronus, a shining silver otter, was gambolling around her.

"They are sort of nice, aren't they?" she said, looking at it fondly.

"They're pretty cool," agreed Ron; his Patronus of a Jack Russel Terrier was running around the room, barking happily.

Charlie looked around with a wide smile, curious as to what everyone's Patronuses were taking the form of. Ginny's seemed to become a large horse; it galloped around her. Luna's manifested itself into an eager hare that hopped around dreamily. Fred and George's were matching with magpies; one for sorrow, but two for joy. Cho Chang seemed to have conjured a beautiful swan across the room —

It was safe to say that, Charlie was too in awe of watching the silvery charms of magic flood the room that he was completely unaware when he was approached by a very eager girl in hot pursuit.

"Amazing, isn't it, Charlie?"

Jumping slightly, Charlie turned to see Romilda Vane, standing alarmingly close to him with her wand in the air. Taking a step back, he raised a brow and saw her indicating towards her hummingbird-shaped Patronus.

When he didn't answer, she continued flirtatiously, "That both of our Patronuses take the form of birds... that's just another thing we have in common, I suppose."

"Uh, yeah, I guess," said Charlie, utterly confused. He lowered his wand; his falcon disintegrating into thin air as he attempted to hastily remove himself from the conversation.

"Wait up," called Romilda, lowering her wand before following after the boy like a lost puppy. "I've been meaning to talk to you for ages."

"Oh?" sighed Charlie, coming to a halt and turning around to face her once again. "What about?"

"Well," she began, blushing slightly; Charlie could've sworn he heard excited squeals coming from Lavender and Parvati in the near distance, "I've had my eye on you for quite awhile now... and Valentine's Day just had me thinking that maybe —"

"Romilda —"

"I fancy you, Charlie," Romilda admitted bashfully, reaching out to caress the boy's arm as a term of endearment. "I was going to tell you before the holiday, but I figured now is just as good of a time as any... so, I was wondering it maybe we could grab a Butterbeer sometime?"

"Listen," said Charlie uncomfortably, yanking his arm back politely, "I'm flattered really, but I —"

"Sorry," a stern voice called from behind Charlie, "am I interrupting something?"

Charlie whipped around quickly, sighing in relief as he took in the sight of Hermione, standing beside him with her arms crossed and pursed lips; the rest of the class seemingly unaware of what was going on. Lavender and Parvati gasped from their spectating positions.

"Actually you are, Granger," said Romilda rather nastily, her nostrils flaring at the interruption. "Bugger off for a minute, will you?"

Hermione laughed maliciously, sending daggers in Romilda's direction, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why the bloody hell not?" barked Romilda, taking a step forward towards Hermione in a challenging stance. "What Charlie and I are talking about has nothing to do with you!"

Charlie furrowed his brows, confused as to how things turned incredibly hostile so quickly.

"From what I overheard, it seems like it has everything to do with me," growled Hermione, her fists clenching. "Seems to me like you're the one who needs to bugger off, Vane. He clearly doesn't want you anywhere near him."

Charlie took a step forward, trying to diffuse the situation by attempting to pull his girlfriend away, "Hermione, please —"

"Stay out of this, Charlie," she said angrily, pulling her arm out from his grasp while her eyes remained locked on her target. "I'm done watching her gawk all over you — it's becoming disgustingly pathetic!"

"I'm pathetic?!" yelled Romilda, her voice catching the attention of the rest of the room, who all immediately lowered their wands and turned their heads. Romilda continued in a fit of rage, "You're the one who's been following him around for years, desperately waiting for him to see you as anything other than an insufferable know-it-all! Take a look in the mirror you daft bimbo! If anyone's pathetic here, it's you!"

Without missing a beat after the words left Romilda's mouth, Hermione lunged forward, "You bitc—"

Charlie acted quickly, seizing Hermione's arms and pulling her back before she made contact with Romilda's face. His girlfriend squirmed in his arms, trying to break free as rage pumped through her veins.

"You're insane!" taunted Romilda, looking thoroughly disgusted; everyone was now crowded around them, watching in curiosity. Romilda tried to take a step forward, reaching out for Charlie once again, "Come on, Charlie. Let's go continue our conversation elsewhere... maybe somewhere private."

Releasing Hermione from his grasp, Charlie took a step back to avoid Romilda's relentless attempt at getting close to him. Luckily, his girlfriend stepped in between them before she made contact.

"Like he'd go anywhere private with you," laughed Hermione angrily, her eyes burning with rage. "Take a bloody hint, will you?"

"How about taking your own advice, Granger?" snapped Romilda, although she had significantly distanced herself from her opponent. "He's never going to want you! He wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole —"

Charlie tried to interject, "Alright, I think that's enoug—"

"Is that right?" smirked Hermione, taking Romilda's comment as a challenge.

What happened next came so suddenly that it took Charlie by complete surprise...

In one swift movement, Hermione whipped around, grabbed a fistful of Charlie's robes and pulled him into a mind-blowing and passionate kiss in front of the entirety of the DA.

So many things raced through Charlie's mind in a single second, but quickly faded away as he lost himself within the kiss, wrapping his hands around her waist to pull her closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss to simply relish in the exposure of their relationship.

There were loud cheers and murmurs of shock that came from the crowd of DA members; most of them couldn't believe what they were witnessing, while others seemed to have known all along. Harry, Ginny, and Elaina, for example, were clapping proudly.

"Well, it's about damn time!" cheered Elaina, jumping up and down from excitement; Daphne cheered along with her.

Ginny whistled, smirking at Romilda mischievously, "That shut you up real quick, didn't it?"

"Is this the moment?" gasped Harry, his eyes widening. "Really? In the middle of my class?"

Fred reluctantly handed a Galleon over to George, losing a bet they had made ages ago. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were chanting Charlie's name over and over. Parvati, Padma, and Lavender had their mouths frozen in an 'O' shape. While other people, like Ron and Romilda, had gone extremely quiet as they watched the two Gryffindors snog in front of them; they seemed to be at a loss for words, both of their mouths were agape and their eyes were wide in horror.

Only when they were left breathless did Charlie and Hermione pull away from one another. The two of them were left so dazed by their kiss that they were smiling giddily at each other. For one last laugh, Hermione turned back to a shocked Romilda Vane, rubbing it in slightly as she interlocked her hand with Charlie's.

"That was a lot closer than a ten-foot pole, I'd say," smirked Hermione, wiping her lips to taunt the girl in front of her; Romilda's face faltered.

"H-How did you... w-when did you...?"

"Probably should've mentioned this earlier," said Hermione proudly, moving to cuddle into Charlie's side, "but Charlie's my boyfriend... and you'd do best to remember that."

Many girls in the room squealed at Hermione's newfound confidence. In fact, they all moved to form a group around her, cheering her on; Romilda standing far off to the side with Ron as the boys did the same to Charlie. It was a short-lived moment of happiness, indeed, before everything came crashing down.

With the sound of a loud bang, the cheers and excited murmuring of the DA members came to a halt. Charlie straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at a newfound crack in one of the mirrors covering the entrance. Another bang quickly followed, and the mirror began to shatter at a rapid pace.

"What the fu—"

The shards of glasses fell to the floor with a loud crash, revealing a decent sized hole behind it. There was an evident panic amongst the DA members now; some of them were shrieking in fear. They all pelted towards the entrance, trying to glance through the small hole to see who had interrupted their DA lesson.

Faces fell with horror — Professor Umbridge stood on the other side of the wall, holding her wand angrily in her hand as she stood amongst a group of Slytherin students, Mr. Filch, and... Zacharias Smith.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" bellowed Harry upon realization. "RUN!"

"Charlie!" shrieked Hermione, reaching out for him while amongst a knot of people now fighting to hurry away from the wall before the final blast went off.

They linked hands and ran, as fast as possible, to the other side of the room with the rest of the DA members just in time for the third bang to ring loudly in their ears. By the time Charlie turned back around, there was a very large crater in the wall, and Umbridge and her group of followers were storming inside.

Everyone was moving so fast that it all seemed like a blur.

This is bad... this is very bad.

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

Hope that you all accept this super long chapter as an apology for not updating in almost a week <3

Bare with me guys, OotP is a lot harder to write than I thought ahahaha

If you enjoyed, please feel free to vote, share, and spam with comments, as I love and appreciate seeing your support!

Coming up next — Fenwick's return...

This should be interesting...

Until then, much love to you all!

xo, Selena