CHAPTER FOUR:

Third Person P.O.V.:

"I knew it!" yelled Ron as Charlie, Harry, and his father had arrived back at the house after the Ministry hearing. "You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," Hermione beamed at Harry as they all stepped into the kitchen, "there was no case against you."

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering you all knew I'd get off," said Harry, smiling.

Mrs. Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred, George, and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went like this, "He got off, he got off, he got off —"

"That's enough! Settle down!" shouted Mr. Weasley, though he too, was smiling. "Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry —"

"What?" said Sirius sharply.

"He got off, he got off, he got off —"

"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to the Minister as we were leaving. You reckon, Dumbledore ought to know?"

"Absolutely," said Sirius at once. "We'll tell him, don't worry."

"He got off, he got off, he got off —"

"That's enough! Fred — George — Ginny!" said Mrs. Weasley, as Mr. Weasley and Sirius left the kitchen to discuss business further. "Everyone come, sit down and have some lunch."

Charlie instantly sat himself down next to Hermione, and across from Ron and Harry. The gloomy house seemed warmer and more welcoming all of a sudden; even Kreacher looked less ugly as he poked his snoutlike nose into the kitchen to investigate the source of all the noise. Harry proceeded to go into in depth detail of his trial, but what made Charlie's ears perk up was the fact that Dumbledore had shown up in defence.

"My grandfather was there?" he inquired with a raised brow — why hadn't Dumbledore made the effort to talk with his own grandson?

"'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you," said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potato on to everyone's plates.

"Yeah, he swung it for me," Harry said, addressing Charlie. "He didn't talk much after though. He just got up and left in a hurry..."

He trailed off suddenly; the scar on his forehead burned so badly that he clapped his hand to it.

"What's up?" said Hermione, looking alarmed, sharing a worried glance with Charlie.

"Scar," Harry mumbled. "But it's nothing... It happens all the time now..."

None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them were now helping themselves to food while gloating over Harry's narrow escape; Fred, George, and Ginny were still singing.

"Don't take it personally," said Mrs. Weasley, setting a huge plate of roast chicken down on the table. "Dumbledore's very busy at the moment."

"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF. HE GOT OFF —"

"SHUT UP!" roared Mrs. Weasley.

———————————————

Charlie found himself daydreaming about Hogwarts more and more as the end of the holidays approached; he could not wait to see Hagrid again, to play Quidditch, even to stroll across the vegetable patches to the Herbology greenhouses; it would be a treat just to leave this dusty, musty house, where Kreacher wheezed insults out of the shadows as you passed and Mrs. Weasley forced you to clean every single room until it was spotless.

At one point, Mrs. Weasley had even gone as far as to enter rooms after the core four, just to ensure they were continuing to tidy up.

"Still not finished?"

"I thought you might be here to tell us to have a break!" said Ron bitterly. "D'you know how much mould we've got rid of since we arrived here?"

"You were so keen to help the Order," said Mrs. Weasley with a righteous smirk, "you can do your bit by making Headquarters fit to live in."

"I feel like a house-elf," grumbled Ron as his mother left the room once again.

"Funny, seems as though you understand what dreadful lives they lead," Hermione said with no remorse. "Perhaps, you'll be a bit more sensitive from now on."

"Yeah," Charlie rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "because that's likely..."

"Shut up, Charlie," Ron muttered irritably, as Harry, who the ginger had looked to for assistance, simply laughed at him.

"He's got a point, you know?" Harry chuckled, and him and Charlie shared a high-five to which Hermione giggled.

The truth was that living at the Headquarters of the anti-Voldemort movement was not nearly as interesting or exciting as one would expect.

Though members of the Order of the Phoenix came and went regularly, sometimes staying for meals, sometimes only for a few minutes of whispered conversation, Mrs. Weasley made sure that all of the children were kept well out of earshot (whether Extendable or normal) and nobody, not even Sirius, seemed to feel that they needed to know anything more than they had heard on the night of Harry's arrival.

On the very last day of the holidays Charlie laid on his bed, reading a book with Ludo by his side, as Harry was sweeping up Hedwig's owl droppings from the top of the wardrobe. That's when Ron entered their bedroom carrying a couple of envelopes.

"Book lists have arrived," he said, throwing one to each of his friends in the room. "About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this..."

Charlie sat up, putting a bookmark between the pages of his book before opening his letter. It contained three pieces of parchment; one was the usual reminder that term started on the first of September; the other telling him which books he would need for the coming year, but the final piece of parchment left him aghast —

"Only two new ones," Harry said, reading the book list, "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk, and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard."

The brown eyed boy only half-listened, his mouth falling open slightly as he read his letter.

Crack! — Fred and George Apparated in the room.

"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhard book," said Fred conversationally.

"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," added George.

Fred laughed, "And about time too."

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, leaning the broom that was in his hand up against the wall.

"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year — apparently he was so desperate that he went to the Ministry for help."

Ron shrugged, unbothered, "Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happened to the last four?"

"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and one locked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, counting them off on his fingers. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"What's up with you, Char?" asked Fred, noticing that the brown eyed boy hadn't spoken since they Apparated in the room.

"I, uh," Charlie stuttered, looking up to his friends for the first time since he opened his letter.

"What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, sitting next to Charlie to look over his shoulder at the parchment.

Fred's mouth fell open, too.

"No bloody way!" he beamed, staring incredulously at the letter. "Prefect?"

George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Charlie's other hand and turned it upside-down. Harry and Ron saw something scarlet and gold fall into George's palm.

"No way," said George in a hushed voice. "Is this real?"

"Of course it's real, numbnuts!" Fred said, jumping to his feet, smacking his twin on the back of the head before snatching the letter out of Charlie's grasp and holding it up to the light, "Signed by McGonagall herself — listen!"

Fred jumped up on the bed, standing tall, causing Ludo to bark, but regardless, spoke proudly as though giving a public service announcement:

"Dear Mr. Charles Florent Amadeus Hawthorne,

Headmaster Dumbledore and I are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to serve as Prefect for Gryffindor House. Your school record shows that you have exhibited quick-thinking in stressful situations, the ability to lead others, and the bravery that Gryffindors had been lauded for.

We are certain that you will continue to be a model for your peers and will take your new responsibilities seriously. Please report to the Prefect's carriage on-board of the Hogwarts Express for your Orientation.

Enclosed within this letter, please find your Prefect's Badge, which should be worn on your school robes at all times.

Congratulations!

Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Head of Gryffindor House"

As Fred finished reading, Ron, Harry and George had erupted into cheers and applause. Fred had collapsed on Charlie in excitement before he jumped off the bed, joining his brothers and Harry in a chant:

"PREFECT! PREFECT! PREFECT!"

"We knew you were a cert!" beamed Fred, pulling Charlie off of his bed to join in on the celebration.

"PREFECT! PREFECT! PREFECT!"

"We knew Dumbledore and McGonagall would pick you!" George said excitedly, practically bouncing off of the walls.

Harry clapped his friend on the back with a wide smile, "Congratulations mate!"

Ron was flustered with excitement, "This is wicked!"

"Charlie the Prefect!" shouted Fred, grinning from ear to ear as he turned to George. "Imagine all the stuff we can get away with now!"

"PREFECT! PREFECT! PREFECT!"

"This year is going to be brilliant!" George said jumping around, thrusting the Prefect badge back at Charlie as he, Fred, Harry, and Ron circled around him.

"PREFECT! PREFECT! PREFECT!"

Charlie, who had yet to say anything, took the badge into his hands, and stared at it, as though making sure it was real. The word, 'Prefect' was written across the Gryffindor lion. He had seen the Prefect badge before, of course, but never did he think one would belong to him. If he was honest, he thought Harry would be chosen —

(A/N: photo reference!)

The door banged open. Hermione came barreling into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.

"Did you — did you get — ?"

She spotted the badge in Charlie's hand and let out a shriek, running over and engulfing him in a tight hug, regardless of the spectators.

"Wait, wait," Ron said indignantly as Charlie and Hermione pulled away from one another, focusing his gaze on the bushy haired girl and her envelope, "you're a Prefect too?"

Hermione nodded furiously, brandishing her letter, "Just found out!" She turned back to her boyfriend with a squeal, "I knew it! I knew it'd be you!"

"You couldn't have known," corrected Ron in a bitter mumble; his face had fallen significantly since Hermione had shown Charlie such praise. "You just hoped it'd be him."

Hermione seemed unbothered by this comment, however, as she beamed up at Charlie without a care in the world.

"I'm happy we get to do this together," she said with a wide smile, and the brown eyed boy stared at his girlfriend with a loving gaze, resisting the urge to kiss her in front of everyone.

Luckily for him, the bedroom door opened a little wider and Mrs. Weasley backed into the room carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes.

"Ginny said the book lists had come at last," she said, glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes into three piles. "If you give them to me I'll take them over to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while you're packing —"

"Hey Char!" Fred said loudly, intending on catching the attention of his mother, "that's a nice red and gold badge you have there!"

"Yeah," George smirked alongside his twin, "that's a lovely new Prefect's badge, you've got."

Oh, here we go...

Before Charlie could even send a playful glare in the twins' direction, Mrs. Weasley had turned abruptly towards him after having processed what her son's were saying.

"Wait, Charlie... are you... you're...?"

Charlie smiled awkwardly, and held up his badge. As he did so, Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's, and lunged forward, engulfing the boy in a bone-crushing hug.

"I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Charlie, how wonderful! A Prefect! I'm so proud!"

"And just like that," Fred said with a laugh, "Mum's favouritism becomes apparent."

"Oh this is fantastic! What wonderful news! You could end up Head Boy just like Bill and Percy! Oh, what a thing to happen in the middle of all this worry, I'm just so thrilled —"

Fred and George were both making loud retching noises behind her back but Mrs. Weasley did not notice; arms tight around Charlie's neck, she kissed the top of his head, in a mother-like way, which made his face turn a brighter scarlet than his badge.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Charlie muttered as Molly let go of him, but she was quick to shriek again as she noticed the letter in Hermione's hands.

"Hermione, dear! You too?!?"

"Yeah," Hermione said with a wide smile, and soon she, like Charlie, had been engulfed in a hug.

"Two Prefects!" Molly beamed, pulling back from Hermione but continuing to look between her and Charlie. "I'm beyond proud of the two of you! Such an accomplishment! I knew the two of you could do it! Such a prestigious honour! Oh, how exciting! You two will be just like Percy and Penelope! Prefects in love —"

Charlie's eyes had bulged out of their sockets as Hermione blushed a bright shade of pink. Fred and George had fallen to the floor in amusement, practically dying at the sight of Ron's puzzled gaze; even Harry had to stifle a laugh.

"They're not dating," Ron said at once, "and they're certainly not in love."

"Oh?" Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback, "My apologies! I was under the impression..."

Molly trailed off as she looked at Hermione, who shook her head in a worried panic to which no one but the red-headed woman, seemed to notice.

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley," Charlie interjected, avoiding any eye contact whatsoever. "Honest mistake —"

"They're in loooooove!" Fred said in a singsong; he was laughing so hard that he was in tears.

George started making kissing noises at Charlie and Hermione, even going as far as to mimic a make out with hand puppets.

"Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at his brothers.

"What's the matter, Ronnie?" said Fred, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Are you jealous?"

"Extremely jealous by the looks of it," sniggered George.

"Come off it," snapped Ron, "don't be stupid."

"Guys," Charlie said towards the twins, trying to sound as unbothered as possible, "I think the joke's over."

Fred laughed before pretending to be slightly taken aback, "Come on, Char! You're just going to let this happen?! Ron wants your woman!"

"Do something, Char!" George said, pretending to tremble, "give him detention or something —"

"That's enough!" growled Mrs. Weasley, and the twins suddenly fell quiet. "You leave your brother, Charlie, and Hermione alone, will you? Your behaviour is incredibly immature, and I did not raise such hooligans! Out! Out!"

Fred and George exchanged a nervous look as their mum urged them out of the room with an angry glare.

Molly sighed, cocking her head back towards the core four, "My apologies, once again. It was never my intention for things to —"

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione reassured. "Everyone knows that Charlie and I are — uh — just friends. It was a harmless joke."

"Right... well, I best be off." Mrs. Weasley said with a knowing smirk before she bustled from the room.

The room fell into a silence as the twins and Mrs. Weasley left. Charlie and Hermione shared bashful, yet knowing glances to one another as Harry and Ron stood still, unaware of what to do.

"Well," Harry released a short laugh to break the tension, "that was interesting."

"Yeah," Ron said softly, choosing not to look at anyone, "yeah, I suppose...well, we'd better get our trunks packed, hadn't we?"

It was odd how widely their possessions seemed to have scattered themselves since they had arrived. It took them most of the afternoon to retrieve their books and belongings from all over the house and stow them back inside their school trunks. Charlie placed his Prefect's badge into the pocket of his jeans. Mrs. Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around six o'clock, laden with books and even a new broomstick for Ron.

When it was time for dinner, they all gathered in the basement kitchen once again. Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read; CONGRATULATIONS CHARLIE AND HERMIONE — NEW PREFECTS.

"I thought we'd have a little party — we should be celebrating!" she told Charlie, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny as they entered the room.

Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after Charlie had gotten himself a Butterbeer. Moody's electric-blue eye swivelled upwards and stared fixedly at the banner.

"Prefect, eh?" Moody growled as he focused his normal eye on Charlie. "Well, congratulations. Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose your grandfather is aware of your ability to withstand major jinxes or else he wouldn't have appointed you..."

Charlie shook his head, a short laugh came from his lips, "Why is everything about the Dark Arts with you, Moody?"

"Constant vigilance," Moody grunted before hobbling off to the corner, taking a drink from his hipflask.

Mr. Weasley arrived shortly after the celebration had began; Mrs. Weasley was in such a good mood, she did not even complain that her husband had arrived a little later than expected.

"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr. Weasley; when everyone had a drink in hand, he raised his goblet. "To Charlie and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"

Charlie and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them, and then applauded. Although not a big fan of such attention, the brown eyed boy relished in the moment with his friends and family. He stood by and watched with a smile as they all broke off into various conversations. However, what caught his attention was the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter.

"...brilliant choice making Hawthorne a Prefect, don't you think?" said Kingsley.

"It definitely shows that Albus has confidence in his grandson, despite everything going on." Lupin replied.

"It'll cause a bit of controversy, won't it?" Kingsley said as a counter argument, "'Specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him and Potter every few days... and then there's the Minister..."

Charlie did not look round; he did not want Lupin or Kingsley to know he had heard. Though not remotely hungry, he walked back towards the table full of food. His pleasure in the party had evaporated as quickly as it had come; he wished he were upstairs in bed... he didn't want to even think about the Daily Prophet and his father's lies.

"You alright, Hawthorne?" grunted Moody as he approached the boy, his wooden leg clunking on the floor.

"Yeah, fine," Charlie said stiffly, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

Moody took another swig from his hipflask, his electric-blue eye staring sideways at Charlie, "Come here, I've got something that might interest you."

From an inner pocket of his robes, Moody pulled a very tattered old wizarding photograph.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," said Moody gruffly, "Found it last night, and I thought people might like to see it."

Charlie took the photograph in his hands. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him. The boy could recognize faces quite clearly; Harry's parents, Neville's parents, Sirius, Lupin, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge, Sturgis Podmore, Peter Pettigrew —

"There's me," smiled Moody, unnecessarily pointing at himself. "And there's Dumbledore beside me... and then there's —"

"My mum," Charlie said softly, his heart doing somersaults as he peered at a woman who smiled wide as she stood next to Dumbledore.

Julianne Dumbledore looked incredibly young in the photograph, and yet, still looked as Charlie had remembered her. She was beautiful; a woman capable of making heads turn. He had recognized her face from the various photographs that Dumbledore kept in the Headmaster's Quarters.

However, there was still a faint memory of her smile stored in the back of the boy's mind, which was revisited as he stared at the photograph — it was her one defining quality among the rest as it lit up the room, radiating love and kindness...

The first memory that Charlie could recall was of his mother's smile as she rocked him to sleep one night when he was young. It was so vividly etched in his head, and it was a fleeting image that gave the brown eyed boy hope every single day.

It hadn't been more than that, however... there was no laugh in the memory... no voice that he could remember... just a smile...

"That's not all," Moody grunted before pointing to the man next to Julia, "There's your father, too."

Charlie's heart sank. Staring down at the photo, Fenwick Hawthorne had his arm wrapped tightly around Julia, smiling widely as if he wasn't a twisted, morbid man.

The image alone made Charlie sick. All of the smiling faces in the photograph were unaware of the monster that stood next to them... they were so clueless of the cruel capabilities of the man with the revoltingly perfect smile... he really did fool them all —

Well... maybe not all of them.

As the photograph moved, Charlie noticed his grandfather smiling at first, but then watched closely as Dumbledore's gaze shifted warily towards Fenwick, a look of knowing in his eyes.

Wait... did Dumbledore know —

"Quite the peculiar couple your parents were, eh?" said Moody, bringing Charlie back to the reality that he had forgotten about for a moment.

Charlie looked up into Moody's heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently the ex-Auror was under the impression he had just made the boy's day.

"Yeah," muttered Charlie, once again attempting to grin. "Uh... if you'll excuse me, I've just remembered, I haven't packed my..."

He didn't finish that sentence, however, as he crossed the kitchen, slipping through the door and up the stairs before anyone could call him back.

Charlie didn't understand why the photograph had struck him so deeply; he had seen pictures of his mother before, and knew about his father's participation in the original Order, but to have the reminder sprung on him like that, when he was least expecting it —

And then, to see his parents surrounded by all those other happy faces... Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness... all waving happily out of the photograph forever more, not knowing that they were doomed... it was disturbing, and even more so, when Charlie realized that his father probably had something to do with it...

Charlie tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the stuffed elf-heads, glad to be on his own again, as he entered his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He slumped down on his bed with a huff, letting his head fall back against his pillows, before taking the Prefect's badge out of his pocket and holding it up in his line of vision.

It seemed so extraordinary to him that barely an hour ago, his thoughts were consumed about the meaningless badge in his hands. Now, his entire mood had changed. He felt older than he had ever felt in his life and it drained him. Charlie could still see his mother beaming up at him from the battered old photograph, unaware that her life, like so many others, was drawing to a close.

Quite frankly, the image haunted him. The feeling of foreboding now loomed over the boy as though all of the ones he loved were to inevitably be met with the same untimely fate —

"There you are."

A voice said softly, pulling Charlie from his thoughts. He sat up to see his girlfriend standing in the doorway. An immediate smile curled its way on to the boy's lips as he watched Hermione slowly close the door behind her and walk over to him.

Charlie wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist as she stood before him, leaning his head against her stomach with a content sigh.

Hermione giggled softly as her hands wrapped his neck, "What are you doing up here by yourself? You're missing the party."

It was no surprise that Hermione had noticed her boyfriend's absence. She always knew when something was wrong with him. At this point, it was almost as if she knew him better than he knew himself. Not to mention, any chance of getting him alone wasn't going to be a missed opportunity —

(A/N: fellas, get yourself a girlfriend as affectionate as Hermione Granger)

"I needed a breather," Charlie said truthfully in a low whisper. "I was getting a bit overwhelmed down there."

"I understand," Hermione said with a soft chuckle, tilting his head up gently. "Mrs. Weasley really out did herself."

"Yeah," Charlie breathed out, meeting her gaze. "I think it's her way of apologizing for nearly exposing us earlier — which reminds me, you didn't tell her about us, did you?"

Hermione quickly shook her head, "No, I just think that she's very intuitive. I mean we have talked about you before but —"

"Oh?" Charlie's ears perked up and a smirk formed on his face. "You've been talking me, have you? All great things I hope."

"This was before we started dating," Hermione said, rolling her eyes playfully. "You know, when you were acting bloody oblivious as to what was going on between us."

"Me?!" Charlie said, pretending to be coy, as Hermione leaned down to rest her forehead on his. "It takes two to tango, Granger."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said through a small giggle before she moved to connect their lips.

Charlie smiled into the kiss as he pulled her closer, allowing her to straddle him on the edge of the bed. Hermione's hands played with the hair on the nape of his neck as his hands rested on her lower back, the two of them snogging mindlessly, until the boy pulled away with a breathy chuckle.

"Just friends," he mimicked against her lips with a sly smirk as he rubbed his nose against hers.

Hermione giggled, holding his face still as she rolled her eyes once again, "You're such a prat."

"Ouch," Charlie said playfully. "That language isn't very Prefect-like, Granger."

"Prat," she repeated against his lips, a challenging smile on her face, before she gave him another quick peck. As she pulled back, however, she made Charlie smile as she whispered lowly, "My prat."

"Damn right I am," he said proudly before pulling her into a deep snog which she gladly melted into.

(A/N: ladies, get you a man who is as whipped as Charlie Hawthorne)

The two of them lost sense of reality for few a moments as they clearly had no idea that the door had opened in the midst of their make out session and that someone stood in the doorway —

"Sorry to interrupt."

The person called, and Hermione jumped off of Charlie, detaching their lips within a matter of seconds before he too, stood up abruptly, stumbling a bit. Their faces flushed with horror as Molly Weasley stood in the doorway, looking at them with a smirk, her arms crossed.

"Oh my god, Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione squealed in embarrassment, sharing a look of shock with her boyfriend. "This isn't what it looks like!"

Charlie was frozen; this could not be happening...

"We, uh," he stuttered, "we just —"

"You're dating," Mrs. Weasley said flatly, as though unbothered by catching the two teenagers snogging in the bedroom. "Yes, dear, I know."

The boy's mouth had fallen to the floor. "Wait... what?"

Hermione was taken aback, "How did you —"

"Please," Molly pursed her lips. "I was a teenager once too, you know? You think I haven't noticed the two of you sneaking off alone together all summer? I'm a mother, dear, I told you I see everything..."

Charlie and Hermione looked at one another in disbelief... were they really that obvious?

"...however, I can assume from everyone's confusion during the conversation earlier, that the two of you have chosen to keep your relationship private," Molly continued as though she was finding amusement in watching the two teenagers squirm. "Which is precisely why, I figured I'd come up here before anyone else did, and say that the two of you sneaking off in the middle of a party thrown specifically for you, isn't exactly the best way to avoid suspicion..."

"Uh, yeah," Charlie muttered, looking towards his girlfriend. "She's probably right."

Hermione nodded before looking up at the red-headed woman, "Um, Mrs. Weasley, is there any way that you could, maybe, not tell anyone...?"

"Your secret is safe with me, dear," Mrs. Weasley sighed contently from the door. "As long as you two don't make a habit out of continuing to meet behind closed doors."

The bushy haired girl immediately turned bright pink and lowered her head to avoid eye contact; this was SO embarrassing... Charlie, on the other hand, had to take a moment to figure out what Molly was insinuating. However, it didn't take long for his eyes to widen significantly —

"Oh! You think that we..."

He trailed off as he watched Molly narrow her eyes, raising a scornful brow. Suddenly, Charlie felt incredibly uneasy.

"We, uh," he stuttered, "we would never — well, not never per se — wait! No! That's not what I meant —"

Luckily enough for Charlie, Hermione stepped in to help him, putting the boy out of his misery.

"What he means to say," she corrected, still avoiding Mrs. Weasley's gaze, "is that we will uh... try not to do anything behind closed doors out of respect for you and your home..."

Charlie exhaled slowly, "Right."

"Very well — oh! By the way," Molly said, her expression becoming cheerful once again, "I think the two of you are adorable together."

And with that, Hermione and Charlie could hear the clicking of the red-headed woman's heels slowly disappear as she left the room and went back down the stairs.

Hermione immediately groaned and moved to bury her head into Charlie's chest, "I can't believe that just happened."

But before the boy could even respond, surprise overcame his face as Hermione lifted her head from his chest, only to proceed to smack him playfully on the arm.

"Oi!" Charlie furrowed his brows, rubbing the area that had just been assaulted, "What was that for?"

"For not being able to keep your hands to yourself!" Hermione scolded in a joking manner.

"Oh, it's my fault, is it?" Charlie narrowed his eyes in her direction, and when Hermione nodded her head with a slight giggle, he scooped her up into his arms, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist as he held her up.

With her arms wrapped back around his neck, Charlie smirked triumphantly, "Who can't keep their hands to themselves now?"

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me," Hermione said eagerly as she guided his head towards hers once more.

Charlie placed a short, but sweet kiss on her lips and then, resisting the urge to throw her back down on the bed, released her back to the floor, despite Hermione's groan of annoyance.

"C'mon," he said with a laugh, guiding his girlfriend to the door. "You heard what Mrs. Weasley said."

"You're right," Hermione grumbled, but a smirk fell on her lips as she looked to the door that was wide open. Instantly, she turned back around to Charlie, and lowered her voice, teasing him, "She said nothing behind closed doors..."

"You're a little minx, aren't you?" Charlie whispered, though he seriously considered her offer. However, he mustered up enough restraint to urge her towards the door once again, his girlfriend pouting as he did so.

"By the way," he said nervously as they stepped into the corridor; the party still raging downstairs, "What did you mean by 'try not to —'"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Hermione interjected in a low, cocky whisper, as she brushed past him and hurried down the stairs, sending playfully victorious glances towards her boyfriend who looked at her in awe as she descended.

To be fair, he was the one who wanted to abide by the rules — that was his loss.

(A/N: okay but like lowkey, why do I feel like Hermione is a 'lady in the streets, freak in the sheets' kind of girl... LMFAO NVM JUST KEEP SCROLLING)

——————————————

There was a lot of commotion in the house the day that they were to return to Hogwarts. From what he heard as he dressed at top speed, Charlie gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.

" — COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS —"

"— FILTHY BLOOD-TRAITORS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS —"

"That doesn't sound good," Harry said anxiously as he sat on the edge of his bed, slipping on his trainers.

"Yeah, well —"

"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed and Charlie jumped before setting off down the stairs after Ron and Harry, dragging his trunk with Ludo following closely behind him.

The lot of them loaded their bags, and soon enough they were all piling in the car. It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross and nothing more eventful happened during that time other than, Sirius, who was in his animagus form, and Ludo scaring Crookshanks in the back for everyone's amusement.

Once inside the station, they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it, and fell easily through on to platform nine and three-quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over the area packed with departing students and their families. Charlie inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits soar...

Each of the kids bid their farewells to Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and the big black dog as the warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying on to the train.

"Quick, quick," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Charlie twice, "Write... be good... if you've forgotten anything we'll send it on... onto the train, now, hurry..."

All of the children quickly got on to the train after successfully loading their bags.

"See you soon!" Charlie called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved beside him.

The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, then as they rounded a bend, Sirius was gone.

Ginny, George and Fred were quick to scurry off with their friends into separate compartments of their own. The train was gathering more speed as the houses outside the window flashed past. Charlie waved hello to familiar faces as he walked down the corridor with his three friends; Neville, Dean, Seamus, Collin, Padma and Parvati, and —

"Hi Charlie!"

The brown eyed boy turned to see Romilda Vane, a Gryffindor girl in his grade, sticking her head out of her compartment, beaming up at him with a weird look on her face. As Charlie stopped, so did Harry, Ron, and suddenly, an extremely attentive, Hermione.

"Uh hi," Charlie waved awkwardly; Lavender Brown sat inside the compartment, smiling flirtatiously through the window.

"How are you?" Romilda asked in a cheerful tone, "Have a good summer?"

Charlie shrugged, "Yeah, I guess."

Romilda looked at him with a gleam in her eye, "I heard about you becoming a Prefect, congratulations! You're a total cert! Complete package —"

"Charlie," Hermione called sweetly, and the boy turned, instantly noticing his girlfriend's pursed lips and raised brow, "we should probably get going; we have orientation."

"Right," the boy breathed out and he looked at Romilda Vane one last time, "Nice to see you."

The curly haired girl smirked, "Hope to see more of you soon!"

It was a matter of seconds after this comment was made that Charlie was being yanked down the corridor by Hermione. They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-panelled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Many people were staring at Charlie and Harry with great interest; the Daily Prophet articles looming over their heads.

Until at last, Ron, Harry, Charlie, and Hermione found an empty carriage. The two new Prefects set their stuff up on the carrier above the seats, and let their pets roam about before saying goodbye to their friends.

"We'll see you guys later," Charlie said from the doorway.

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," added Hermione. "I think we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"Sounds good," said Harry, clearly unbothered, "We'll see you guys back here then, maybe."

"Doubt it," Ron mumbled, clearly bothered, "they'll take their bloody time, won't they?"

Charlie opened his mouth to call out his ginger haired friend for his recent bitter behaviour, but as soon as he did so, Hermione tugged on his shirt, pulling him into the corridor without another word.

"Why'd you do that?" Charlie grumbled once they began walking down towards the Prefect carriage, "You should have let me say something!"

Hermione sighed, "You and I both know how Ron is. He's acting the same way he did when you and Harry were chosen for the Triwizard Tournament last year; he's jealous —"

"He's acting like a prat," Charlie scoffed.

"You all do from time to time," Hermione giggled, but Charlie didn't think this was funny, so she sighed again, giving up. "Listen, don't worry about it, okay? He'll come around."

"Fine," Charlie sighed as they kept walking; Hermione smiling victoriously.

However, her face fell as they passed by Romilda Vane's compartment again and, as expected, she waved eagerly at Charlie as he walked by.

Hermione scoffed, muttering, "I don't know what she's playing at."

A small smile curved its way on to Charlie's lips as he mimicked, "Listen, don't worry about it, okay? She'll stop eventually."

The bushy haired girl didn't respond, instead she narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend, slapped him playfully on the shoulder for being a smartass and then pulled him passed the compartment before Romilda came back out to engage in conversation.

They reached the Prefect's carriage in an uneventful, record-speed as Charlie remained indifferent throughout the whole journey there. The truth about the Ron thing was, there was a voice in the back of his head, telling him that his friend wasn't jealous of him for being a Prefect, but for something else, or rather, someone else... and the mere thought of that bothered him.

Hermione and Charlie stepped into the carriage and the brown eyed boy's face fell even more as he caught sight, for the first time, of the other Prefects chosen from the other Houses. The fifth-year Prefects for Ravenclaw were Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein. For Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott. Then, what Charlie was dreading the most... for Slytherin, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson —

"God, I'm going to be sick," Draco grunted, disgust written on his face as he watched Hermione and Charlie enter the room. "Granger and Hawthorne, who the hell picked you two to be Prefects?"

"Aw Malfoy, good to see you too — you know, I've been wondering," Charlie said with a mischievous smirk. "are you always such a dickhead, or do you just show off when I'm around?"

"Think that's funny, do you?" Draco clenched his jaw. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Hawthorne, but no one is going to entertain your attempt at playing the comedian."

"Damn, you're right," Charlie said sarcastically, sighing dramatically, "And here I was hoping for a battle of wits... it's a shame, really, but I guess you're right, it would be wrong of me to attack someone who's totally unarmed. Best to quit while I'm ahead."

"Okay, Charlie, that's enough," Hermione said softly, pulling the boy to the opposite side of the room to avoid an altercation.

"Yeah, that's right," Malfoy laughed along with Pansy at the sight before him, "listen to your mudblood girlfriend, you pathetic, little bitch —"

Charlie instantly saw red, and lunged forward, ready to punch the blonde-haired Slytherin square in the jaw, but stopped once Hermione held him back. Although he was more than strong enough to push past her, Charlie caught a glimpse of the pleading look in her eyes that caused him to stop immediately; she was the only one to have this effect on him.

"It's not worth it," Hermione whispered, her hands placed on Charlie's chest as he stared daggers at Draco from across the room. "He's doing it to get a rise out of you."

"Yeah, and it's working," Charlie said, harsher than he intended, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Please, baby," Hermione pleaded in a low whisper, just loud enough for the boy to hear, and his face immediately softened.

Charlie exhaled slowly, "Okay."

Luckily for him, the Head Boy and Head Girl had walked into the room, which took his mind off of what had happened. Hermione and Charlie sat in the Prefect's carriage for a little over an hour getting familiar with their duties. There are approximately six Prefects per house and twenty-four Prefects in the whole school at one time, and their responsibilities were fairly simple.

They were able to take House points away from students, but they were not allowed to take points from other Prefects; what a shame... but they were allowed to give detentions as a form of punishment to which Charlie smiled victoriously; if he couldn't reprimand Draco, the next best thing was Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini — though the mere thought of doing this made Charlie receive a scolding look from his girlfriend as though she knew what he was thinking.

Other than that, Prefects were only obligated to patrol the corridors on the Hogwarts Express, as well as the school hallways to ensure that other students were not breaking curfew. Generally speaking, being a Prefect was more of a gift than a burden as you seemed to be given access to restricted areas like the Prefect's bathroom for doing something as simple as showing the first years around or supervising the decorating of the castle for Christmas.

Nonetheless, it wasn't long before Charlie and Hermione made their way back to the compartment where Harry and Ron were. They had all changed into their robes, two Prefect badges visible as Charlie and Hermione would step out every once and awhile to patrol the corridors.

The weather remained undecided as they travelled farther and farther north. Rain spattered the windows in a half-hearted way; the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more.

At last, the train began to slow down and they heard the usual noise up and down the corridors as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready for departure. The core four shuffled out of the compartment, feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd.

Slowly, they moved towards the train doors. Charlie could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He stepped down on to the platform and looked around, listening for the familiar call of "firs' years over 'ere... firs' years..."

But it did not come.

Instead, a quite different voice, a brisk female one, was calling out, "First years line up over here, please! All first years to me!"

A lantern came swinging towards Charlie and by its light, he saw a enlightened image of Professor Grubbly-Plank, the witch who would take over Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures lessons when he wasn't around.

"Where's Hagrid?" he said out loud.

The boy began to worry. For the first time ever, Charlie hadn't spent his summer with Hagrid, and after not hearing from him, it didn't sit well with the Gryffindor Prefect knowing that the half-giant wasn't showing the first-years across the lake.

"I don't know," shrugged Hermione as she stood next to him, "but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door."

The boy shook his head to get rid of negative thoughts, "Right, yeah."

Charlie, Harry, Hermione and Ron moved off along the platform and out through the station, but as they walked, they were blind-sighted and confronted by Malfoy and his group of pitiful followers.

"Surprised the Ministry's still allowing you to walk around free, Potter," came Malfoy's annoying voice as he walked alongside the core four; Charlie's fists immediately clenched. "Better enjoy it while you can. I expect there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it!"

Harry lunged forward, but Ron instantly caught him on the arm, and so the boy with glasses simply yelled instead, "JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a Prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Funny," Charlie growled sarcastically. "Keep walking Malfoy, because you see, Harry, unlike me, is being held back, which means that Harry, unlike me, isn't capable of breaking your nose... again."

Draco and his friends laughed as though the boy was joking.

"Yeah, right." Malfoy taunted, "you don't have the guts."

Charlie instantly stepped forward, much to Hermione's attempt at holding him back, his face now inches away from Draco's, his jaw locked as he spoke in a dangerously calm tone, "Try me."

Fear in his eyes, Malfoy gave the core four one last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe, Zabini, and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Charlie, who refused to turn back to see the disapproving look of his girlfriend, shunted forward onto the dark rain-washed road outside Hogsmeade Station, his three friends following closely behind him.

There, they waited for the horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle.

Ginny and three of her friends were sat in the back of the recent carriage that was travelling up the road, but the red-headed girl's head had snapped towards her brother and his friends upon their arrival. She seemed to be looking at Harry with familiar loving eyes, but to Charlie's surprise, the boy with glasses had, for the first time, reciprocated the look — uh, when the hell did that happen?

"Hey, guys," a voice called.

Charlie's head snapped away from Ginny and Harry's interaction to face the person in which the voice came from. There stood Neville Longbottom, holding a very magical plant, Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which Charlie could recognize from his Herbology textbook; it was basically a wizard-version of a cactus.

"Hey Neville," the core four said simultaneously as they watched Ginny's carriage disappear into the night.

Luckily for them, it wasn't long before the rickety sound of another carriage was heard from behind them. Charlie glanced quickly backwards, turned away to look at his girlfriend mindlessly, then did a double-take.

The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. They resembled, at best description, a reptilian horse. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes, white and staring. Wings sprouted from each vast, black leathery beast that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gathering gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister.

"What are those things, d'you reckon?" Harry asked out loud, nodding at the horrible horses as the other students surged past them. Charlie was suddenly relieved; he wasn't the only one who saw the reptilian horse.

Charlie shrugged, "No idea. Never seen them before."

"What are you guys talking about?" Ron raised a brow, looking at his friends as though they had gone mental.

"The horse things," Harry explained, pointing to the eerie animal that breathed loudly. "Can't... can't you see them?"

Ron, Neville and Hermione shared a wary look.

"You can't see them?" Charlie inquired, questioning Hermione specifically. "You can't see the things pulling the carriages?"

"Nothing's pulling the carriage, Charlie," Hermione said gently, moving forward and raising a hand to his forehead as if checking his temperature. "They're pulling themselves as always — are you feeling alright?"

Charlie felt utterly bewildered. The horse was there in front of him, gleaming solidly in the dim light issuing from the station windows behind them, vapour rising from its nostrils in the chilly night air. Yet, unless Hermione was faking, which was highly unlikely, her, Neville, and Ron could not see it at all.

"I feel fine," Charlie said flatly, peering between his girlfriend's worried eyes and that of the reptilian creature which appeared lifeless. "I just..." he trailed off, looking to Harry quickly, "You can see them, can't you?"

Harry nodded instantly, and once again, Ron gave his friends a perplexed look.

"What are you two —"

"You're not going mad," a dreamy voice called from the back of the carriage, causing everyone to jump slightly, "I can see them too. You're just as sane as I am."

Charlie turned his head to look at the girl in the carriage. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look.

"Brilliant," Charlie said worriedly, feeling no sense of relief whatsoever as the girl seemed a little strange.

Nonetheless, Charlie, Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron all climbed into the interior of the carriage. The brown eyed boy sat in the middle next to his girlfriend and Harry, leaving Ron and Neville on the opposite side with the strange blonde girl.

Weirdly enough, Hermione seemed to be the only one who knew the name of the girl in the carriage with them.

"Everyone, this is Loony — Luna Lovegood."

The bushy haired girl lowered her head as a shameful response to messing up the girl's name in front of her, and Charlie was quick to nudge her, trying to stifle a laugh at the mistake she had made.

The boy turned his head back to Luna, peering down at the jewelry around her neck, "That's an interesting necklace."

"It's a charm actually," Luna corrected in a dream-like tone before leaning into Ron as though telling him a secret no one else was supposed to know. "It helps keep away the Nargles..."

Ron furrowed his brows discretely at his friends, but they all shrugged at him, having no idea how to respond.

"Uh, so Luna," Charlie said politely, trying to make conversation as the carriage began to move up to the castle, "what House are you in?"

"Ravenclaw — wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice before she turned back to Ron, "you went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil, didn't you? She's in Ravenclaw too."

"Yeah, I did," Ron responded, looking mildly taken aback.

"She didn't enjoy it very much," Luna informed him. "She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," she added thoughtfully, "I don't like dancing very much."

"Well, uh," Ron stuttered, gazing unblinkingly at Luna in a slight awe, "I'll keep that in mind for next time, I guess?"

"Goodie," Luna said cheerfully before turning back to the rest of the group, "I'm hungry... I hope there's pudding."

The core four and Neville shared ultimately confused glances as the blonde girl pulled a copy of The Quibbler out of her robes, reading it without a care in the world.

Charlie stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at his girlfriend for some kind of explanation, but Hermione had stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling.

Leaning over slightly, Charlie whispered in her ear, regarding something that Luna had mentioned that continued to leave him puzzled.

"What's a Nargle...?"

Hermione peered up into her boyfriend's eyes, smiling at his cuteness before shrugging, "No idea."

And with that, the six of them continued on their journey up to the castle without another word; the sudden appearance of reptilian horses and a strange blonde girl occupying everyone's thoughts.

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

There's a little bit of everything in this chapter lol

COMING UP NEXT... Umbitch :/

You have no idea how happy I am for Luna to be in the story! I hope you're excited as I am!

Also, Charmione is my OTP, even though I'm the one who created them <3

Thank you so much for over 1K votes! That is so overwhelmingly amazing, and I have no words to process it. The support you guys show on this story is greatly appreciated. Much love always!

If you enjoyed, like and share! Also, feel free to spam with comments!

xo, Selena

p.s. look... it's Charmione <3