CHAPTER ONE:

Third Person Narrative:

September 1st, 1998

There was nothing but peaceful and velvety darkness, and Charlie Hawthorne drifted along contently, barely even aware of that darkness. He stirred under the sheets slightly, though, as a cool breeze across his face woke him from his deep sleep in the small bedroom he shared with Harry and Ron at the Burrow.

"Charlie," a voice called.

Ripples stirred in the soul-soothing blackness, and Charlie's happily floating mind desperately tried to ignore the intrusion.

"Charlie, come on! Wake up!"

With a not-so-gentle nudge, Charlie was suddenly jarred awake, and the beautiful emptiness was replaced by searing brightness and foggy disorientation as he opened his eyes. He quickly sat up, stretched a bit, and rubbed his face before settling his gaze upon the two silhouette-like figures standing in front of him.

"Good morning, you lazy arse," came the playful voice of Ron Weasley through the curtain-drawn darkness, as he and Harry Potter laughed together at Charlie's bedside. "Nice of you to join us."

"W-What time is it?" asked Charlie groggily, ruffling his mess of dark brown hair. He squinted, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness, and focused upon Harry and Ron once again, stifling a yawn in the process.

"Quarter past eight," Harry reported. "Mrs. Weasley told us to come and wake you for breakfast."

"Cheers," nodded Charlie, as he climbed out of bed and threw on an old Chudley Cannons jumper over his bare torso. "It's meant to be our 'going away' breakfast, I suppose."

"I still can't believe Hermione has talked you into going back for seventh-year," groaned Ron, disgusted by the mere thought of more schoolwork. "I'd honestly rather get Splinched again than sit through any more exams."

"You'd do the same thing for Lavender, I'm sure," retaliated Charlie, laughing, as Ron's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Besides, if sitting through another year's worth of classes means spending more time with my girlfriend, then so be it. Hermione's always wanted to finish her NEWT-level exams, you know, and I'm not going to get in the way of that."

"Fair enough," Harry shrugged, walking over towards the bedroom door. "It'll be different without you both here, though. We'll miss you, mate."

"It's not too late to sign-up for classes," Charlie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, it'll be like old times."

Harry laughed, shaking his head within the instant.

"I won't miss you that much," he said. "Sorry to say, Charlie, but I'm with Ron on this one. There's no way I'm sitting through another History of Magic lesson."

"Fine," sighed Charlie, slumping his shoulders. "But send a letter with the post every once and a while, won't you? I'll miss you lot, too."

"That," said Harry, nodding along with Ron, "we can do."

"I'll see if I can make time for it," Ron shrugged playfully, pulling back the curtains of the window so that they could see the sun shine over the Burrow's garden. "But anyways, let's go downstairs — I'm starving."

Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but when are you not?"

With a shared chuckle, the three Gryffindor boys piled through the door one after the other. They stumbled into the hallway, and the smell of Mrs. Weasley's infamous home cooking quickly flooded their nostrils from the floors below. The Burrow was eerily quiet as of late, for even the ghoul in the attic seemed to be mourning the death of Fred Weasley. It had only been five months since the end of the Second Wizarding War, but adjusting to the new normal of their lives proved to be a longer process then originally anticipated.

The entire Wizarding World had changed significantly since May 2nd of 1998; the Dark Lord had finally been conquered, the war had been won. The aftermath of the chaos, however, had become something that was an everyday struggle. Once the war was finished, there were survivors to search for and bodies to recover, wounded to tend to and dead to bury; which sadly included a small, private funeral service in the garden of the Burrow for the fallen souls of Fred, Tonks, and Remus.

As the last of the dead were laid to rest, Charlie spent the next few weeks in Australia with Hermione, searching for her parents in attempt to undo the Memory Charm and bring them back home. When they finally returned to England and Hermione went about getting her parents settled back into their old life, Charlie wasted his days away by the pond in the Burrow's back garden, silently trying to avoid the overflow of grief and sadness that hung over him like a black cloud.

In late June, there was a ceremony held to honor those who fought and died in the war, and the pride felt from the recipients of the 'Order of Merlin' awards was tainted by the Malfoys who had somehow managed to avoid imprisonment on a technicality. By the time August was upon them, though, the dawn of the new Hogwarts term was fast approaching, and this very fact seemed to spark new life within the streets of the Wizarding World; George had reopened Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes; Harry and Elaina had finally gotten used to looking after Tonks and Remus's son, Teddy; Mrs. Weasley was even back to her old self, cooking and cleaning and fretting over her children.

And now, on the first of September, Charlie eventually made his way down the hallway after Harry and Ron, passed all the other bedroom doors, and crept downstairs to the kitchen, making sure to skip the last step which always creaked. He glanced up at the bottom of the stairs and met the kind gazes of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Percy, and Bill and Fleur as the sound of newspaper crinkling and teacup clanking filled his ears once he stepped into the kitchen.

"Good morning, dears," greeted Mrs. Weasley, as she slid a piece of bacon onto her husband's plate. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well," assured Charlie, and he took a seat next to Bill at the head of the table; Mrs. Weasley quickly came bustling over a plate of food, placing it in front of the young man, as he muttered, "Thank you."

"You're in the paper again, boys," said Mr. Weasley, brandishing the latest edition of the Daily Prophet in his left hand as he took a sip of his morning tea. "Rita Skeeter is still raving over your defeat of You-Know-Who."

"Well, can you blame her?" asked Ron jokingly, his words muffled through a mouthful of food. "We're ridiculously famous nowadays."

Bill laughed heartily at the head of the table, shaking his head at his younger brother.

"And incredibly modest, in case you couldn't tell."

"It does get a bit annoying, though," said Harry quietly. "You'd think they would've moved on by now."

"It is quite the story, I must admit," reminded Mr. Weasley, peering over the edge of the newspaper. "But I suppose it's hard for people to let go —"

There was a brief — and solemn — moment of silence before the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard on the creaking staircase; it was none other than Elaina Dumont, her brown eyes bright, with a turquoise-haired baby bundled in her arms as she stumbled into the kitchen.

"Morning!" she greeted everyone merrily, as she crossed the room and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "Teddy's been fussy for hours, Harry, so I think he wants his godfather."

With a bright smile, Harry took Teddy into his arms, and the five-month-old baby babbled contently, his hair turning from a deep blue to a shade of raven black that undeniably mirrored Harry's own hair.

"See," Elaina smiled at the sight of Harry and Teddy together, "I knew that's what it was."

"Bonjour, mon amie," said Fleur happily, waving at Elaina as she sat next to Harry. "Are you 'ungry?"

"Famished," replied Elaina, and Fleur quickly set a plate of food in front of her. "Thank you."

Teddy squealed loudly in his godfather's arms once more, reaching his tiny hands out clumsily towards the eggs and bacon on Elaina's plate. Grinning, Harry mussed the baby's hair as the rest of the table continued their various conversations over the latest news in the Daily Prophet.

(A/N: I love writing for Teddy already ahhh... brb patiently waiting for #Charmione babies)

"Mr. Weasley, I've been meaning to ask you," called Charlie, pulling the eldest Weasley's attention, "have you heard anything about my father's trial?"

"Kingsley hasn't said much, I'm afraid," Mr. Weasley told him. "Although, there's a rumour that Fenwick's been convicted of his past loyalty to the Dark Lord, and has since been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss for attempted murder. I'll need to seek out official confirmation, mind you, but you'll be the first to know when I do."

"I'd appreciate that," said Charlie quietly, his throat clogged with a mix of emotions. He coughed ever so slightly, then quickly changed tact, "Thanks again for breakfast, Mrs. Weasley."

"You're welcome, dear!" the eldest Weasley witch beamed in response, evidently thankful for the change of conversation topic. "I couldn't have you board the train without a proper last meal now, could I?"

"It's my last year, too," Ginny spoke up abruptly, muttering under her breath, "but I guess we all know now that Charlie's your favourite, don't we?"

"Oh, hush up!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, gently swatting her daughter's shoulder. "I'd do the same for all of you!" she turned back around to Charlie, clapping her hands together excitedly. "I'm so proud that you've been named Head Boy, Charles! You and Hermione will do great, it'll be all be great! I've always known you two could do it!"

"Mum, we get it," groaned Ron, his mouth full of scrambled eggs. "You've been blubbering on about this ever since they've received their letters from Professor McGonagall."

"Headmistress McGonagall," corrected Bill, grinning beside Fleur. "She'll have your head if you call her anything less."

"Proud! So proud!" chanted Mrs. Weasley, her smile as wide as ever. "Head Boy! Head Girl! I'm so proud!"

"I'm Quidditch Captain!" retorted Ginny. "Where's my 'proud of you' chants, Mum? Or did you just happen to forget about your favourite daughter?"

"Oh, Ginny, dear," Mrs. Weasley engulfed her youngest child in a tight hug, "you know I'm always proud of you."

"Yeah, and besides," added Charlie, smirking in a teasing manner as he nudged Ginny across the table, "you're only Co-Captain of the Quidditch team, if I remember correctly."

"Ugh! You can't let me have one thing, can you?" Ginny rolled her eyes playfully. "You're lucky you're a decent Chaser, Hawthorne, or else I would've aimed a Bludger at your head a long time ago."

Charlie laughed before biting into a piece of bacon.

"Love you, too, Gin," he mumbled jokingly.

"Yeah, yeah," Ginny waved him off as though annoyed by one of her brothers. "Well, anyways, why don't you go and find Hermione? She's missing breakfast, and we're meant to leave soon."

"Where is she?" asked Charlie, furrowing his brows. "I thought she still might've been sleeping."

"No, she was awake when I went to give Teddy his bottle earlier," Elaina chimed in. "She told me she was planning on writing to her parents, so I'd check the study."

"Sure thing," nodded Charlie, scooting back in his chair. "I'll be right back — Ron, leave my girlfriend one piece of bacon at least, though, yeah?"

"No promises!" teased Ron, grinning cheekily as Charlie headed back through the kitchen towards the parlour. "You'll just have to hurry back."

Charlie let out a bark of laughter reminiscent of Sirius Black and left the room, heading towards the main living area of the Burrow. It took him all of two minutes to stumble into the study in which Hermione sat at the lopsided, wooden desk in the corner, with Ludo at her feet, a quill in her hand, and her bottom lip between her teeth.

Taking several silent steps towards his girlfriend, Charlie crept up behind her and moved her hair to one side before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and placing a few light kisses on the newly exposed skin; Hermione jumped ever so slightly, startled, but quickly leaned into her boyfriend's embrace once she realized who it was.

"Hi," she said, with a content sigh, as she set her quill down onto the wooden desk.

(A/N: heyyy queen, we've missed you <3)

"Hi, baby," Charlie whispered in her ear, playfully nibbling at the lobe. Resting his chin in the crook of her neck, he glanced back towards the desk, which was full of parchment and scattered letters, and questioned, "Writing to your parents?"

"Yeah, they've wished us good luck on our first day of classes," replied Hermione, brandishing the corresponding letter in her hands. "And they've also already invited us home for the Christmas holidays."

"Of course," Charlie smiled, nuzzling himself further into Hermione's warm embrace. "They're okay, though?"

"Oh, they're completely back to normal," said Hermione, with a content tone in her voice. "Mum says she's happy that we've been made Head Boy and Head Girl, but Dad wasn't too keen about the thought of us sharing a room together."

Charlie's cheeks flushed.

"You told him about that?" he coughed, wide-eyed.

Hermione cocked her head back towards him slightly, her lips curled into a playful grin, and said, "It might've slipped out."

"Right," gulped Charlie nervously, "well, there goes any chance I had at winning over your father."

"You're being dramatic, my love," Hermione laughed, leaning up to place a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I've told you how much my Dad likes you."

Charlie still wasn't convinced, however, as he shook his head and stood up straight, pulling himself free from his girlfriend's embrace.

"Yeah," he began, "but that won't last long if he thinks you and I are — you know — doing something..."

With another small giggle, Hermione got up from her chair, side-stepped around Ludo's snoring frame, and flung her arms around Charlie's neck. She cupped his cheeks, brushing the pads of her thumbs across the various cuts and bruises that were still recovering from the war. Then, with a seductive smirk, Hermione leaned in and ghosted her boyfriend's lips with her own.

"Would he be wrong to think like that, though?" she whispered, playing with the hairs on the back of Charlie's neck. "I mean, this year at Hogwarts is going to be rather interesting for the two of us. We'll have to spend an awful lot of time — alone — together. Haven't you imagined what you and I could possibly get up to with that kind of privacy?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Bloody hell," said Charlie lowly, his brown eyes darkening with desire. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, then added, "The things I'd do to you are unspeakable..."

"That's what I thought," teased Hermione, with a satisfied smile, as she closed the small gap between them and proceeded to give him a preview of the sort of snogging they'd be able to do when they were all alone in their Hogwarts dormitories.

They swayed on the spot for a moment longer, each matching the fervour of the other, until the nearby creak of the study room door broke them apart. Together, Charlie and Hermione looked up at the intrusion, and met the pestering gaze of Ginny as she leaned up against the doorframe, with a sly smile.

"So this is what's taking you so long," she laughed, shaking her head. "I should've known."

"Yes, you should've," Hermione rolled her eyes playfully, her arms still wrapped around Charlie's neck. "To what do we owe the intrusion, Ginerva?"

"My apologies," Ginny said, still smiling. "But I was just wondering whether you'd like continue your snog session or maybe come and join us for breakfast?"

"Depends," sighed Charlie, pulling Hermione closer and pecking her cheek. "Am I allowed to multi-task?"

"Ugh," groaned Ginny, "just forget I asked, then —"

"Oi! Mum wants to know what's taking so — oh, bloody hell!" came the annoyed voice of Ron as he rounded the corner, eyeing the sight of Charlie and Hermione all cuddled up in the centre of the room. "Keep the snogging to a minimum, can't you?"

"No promises," Charlie mocked him, nuzzling himself further into his girlfriend's embrace. "You'll just have to get used to it."

And with that, the Burrow's living room echoed with two loud cracks as the Weasley siblings disappeared, pleasantly disgusted, and Hermione carried on with her previous pursuit of Charlie's lips without a care in the world for the breakfast options she was offered.

————————————————————

The rest of the afternoon dawned, rainy and dreary, and Charlie pulled his and Hermione's trunks along through the shabby platforms of King's Cross Station. As it was now, even the youngest of the Weasleys was old enough to perform magic outside of school, so Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Hermione, Elaina and Harry all Apparated together to say their goodbyes at the train station.

As they walked through the brick wall and onto Platform 9¾, the lot of them were surprised to find George Weasley there handing out flyers for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' owl-order service to the students as they bustled about, boarding the train.

"Oi! Oi!" exclaimed George, smiling in spite of himself, as he thrusted a stack of flyers into Charlie's hands. "Hand these out once you get to school, won't you, Head Boy? It'll be great for business!"

"Sure thing, Georgie," grinned Charlie, who was thoroughly pleased to see the Weasley twin smile for the first time since the end of the war. He folded the flyers and tucked them into his jacket pocket, then added in a low whisper, "Just don't tell Hermione."

With a cheeky grin, George joined in on the bidding of farewells alongside his mother and father, engulfing his younger sister in a tight embrace. Charlie watched as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both shed a few tears as they helped Ginny board the Hogwarts Express for the last time, and he suddenly noticed the toll of the war etched on their faces; they were evidently exhausted and aged beyond their years. He could only imagine how they must be feeling. They really didn't deserve losing one of their children; it wasn't fair to anyone.

The sight of the bright red Hogwarts Express pulled him back from his reverie, and for the first time, Charlie finally felt genuine excitement to go back to school. He bid an emotional farewell to Mrs. Weasley, allowing her to engulf both him and Hermione in a bone-crushing hug, and then moved to say goodbye to Mr. Weasley, who implored them to — for once in their lives — stay out of trouble at Hogwarts.

Elaina was a blubbering and emotional mess as she flung herself around her departing friends, especially as she reached Charlie and told him to allow himself to be happy in a low whisper that sent a shiver rippling through his body. Harry's farewell was much more tearful and sentimental than Ron's was ("Don't forget to give Mrs. Norris a kick for me!"), since he was finally saying goodbye to two of the people who had been by his side for the last seven years.

"Promise me you'll take care of each other," he said to Charlie and Hermione, pulling them and Ron in for one last tight embrace; the four of them could feel the eyes of the passerby upon them as they hugged, but nothing seemed to pull them apart.

"Yeah," added Ron, who looked suddenly more emotional, "and look after Ginny for me, won't you?"

Too choked up to speak, Hermione merely gave a simple nod and deepened the hug between the two boys she'd thought of as brothers. Charlie, however, managed to keep a stiff upper lip and not break down into tears, laughing as he clapped his two best friends on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about us, mate," he assured his friends, with a charming smile. "We'll keep our end of the bargain as long as you both don't let all that fame go to your scarred and ginger heads while we're gone."

"That won't be a problem for me," laughed Harry, raising his hands in a feign of innocence, "but Ron on the other hand..."

"I'll do my best," said Ron jokingly, and the three boys shared another rowdy embrace full of both playful punches and brotherly hair pulls.

And then, as a whistle echoed over the platform, Hermione was reluctantly the first to break the core four's embrace as she slowly pulled Charlie along to board the Hogwarts Express, interlacing their fingers; they, along with Ginny, clambered onto the rusted train and waved goodbye from the windows until the entire Weasley family, Harry, and Elaina were mere specs in the distance.

By the time the Hogwarts Express had flown down the tracks of Kings Cross Station, Ginny had already gone off to sit with Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas, who was returning for his seventh-year after spending the previous term on the run alongside Griphook. Charlie and Hermione, however, settled themselves at the front of the train where the Prefects' carriages resided, and together, they sat by themselves in an unoccupied compartment.

To set the proper example as Head Boy and Head Girl (and because Hermione had absolutely insisted that they change as soon as they reached the train station), Charlie and Hermione were already dressed in their school robes, which now included the new gleaming additions of scarlet and gold badges that were pinned to their chests. Unable to help himself, though, Charlie kept tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"Stop fidgeting with them," chastised Hermione, slapping her boyfriend's hands away from his robes.

"I forgot how uncomfortable this monkey suit was," complained Charlie, loosening his Gryffindor tie. "I'd gotten fairly used to wearing Muggle clothes while on the run, you know."

Hermione giggled lightly under her breath, shaking her head at her boyfriend's lack of decency. She turned towards him and ran her hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the material where he'd bunched it up while tugging on it. Trailing her hands downwards, she teasingly toyed with the Head Boy badge that was pinned to his chest with her fingers.

"Uncomfortable or not," she began lowly, "I think you look dashing."

"Dashing, eh?" Charlie leaned his head against hers, resting his hand on her upper thigh. "You think so?"

"Mhm," hummed Hermione, and as she gazed at him through her eyelashes, Charlie wasted no time whatsoever as he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.

Once they pulled apart, Charlie sighed contently as he gazed into Hermione's warm, brown eyes for the billionth time. To his immediate concern, however, he noticed the slightest flicker of apprehension in her gaze, enticing him to wonder what was on her mind.

"Everything okay, baby?" he asked, sitting up a little on alert. "I can tell you're in your head about something."

"What — oh, yeah, sorry!" Hermione snapped back into consciousness at the sound of Charlie's voice. "It's just — it's a lot, you know? I'm a bit nervous, if I'm honest. I've been dreaming about becoming Head Girl for ages, but now that it's happened, I'm losing my head a bit. It's incredibly stressful, and I don't —"

Charlie cut her off with another light kiss on the lips.

"You're rambling, my love."

"Sorry..."

"It's okay," he laughed, brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He then kissed her forehead, whispering lowly, "Do you want me to help you relax?"

(A/N: MATURE lemon scene ahead! skip to the bold A/N if you're uncomfortable <3)

There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, for the tension had shifted in the most miraculous of ways at the sound of those eight words. Hermione shivered at the feel of Charlie's warm breath against her ear. He trailed his lips down her neck, nibbling at the exposed skin, as his hand travelled further and further up her skirt. Hermione had closed her eyes at the sensation, gripping the edge of her seat as a sudden rush of desire flooded her senses. She casually moved closer towards him, tilting her head to the side to give her boyfriend more accessibility.

"And h-how would you do that, exactly?"

"It'd be easier if I showed you," he said lowly, his breath tickling her skin in the process. "What d'you say?"

Hermione's words caught in her throat; without realizing it, she grabbed at the back of Charlie's neck and held him steady, as though subconsciously telling him not to stop. The moon had begun to rise on the outskirts of the English countryside, and it shone a soft glow through the windows that reflected in Hermione's darkened brown eyes as she opened them at last. Her gaze fell upon the glass compartment doors as Charlie continued to kiss down her neck, resulting in her to hesitate for a mere moment as she loosened her hold around him.

"Charlie," she warned, though the look in her eye that was jaded with lustful desire told him differently, "we can't —"

"Yes, we can," he whispered in contradiction, nibbling at her ear. With a low groan, he pulled back and raised his wand towards the compartment door, "Muffliato! Colloportus! Nox!" he muttered each incantation in a whisper, plunging them into a silent darkness, before throwing his wand aside and pressing his lips back onto Hermione's.

"This is bad of us," Hermione reminded him in spite of his pursuits, though she made no attempt to stop him from reaching for the waistband of her skirt. "We're meant to be setting an example —"

"But that's no fun," Charlie groaned, wrapping both of his hands around her waist. "Come on, baby, you're killing me."

"Charles Hawthorne," Hermione peered at him through the darkness, the faint silhouette of her smirk teasing him. "Are you suggesting that we can't even ride on a train together without you being overcome by your baser urges?"

"God, yes," said Charlie shamelessly. "So are you going to do something about it? Because you're making me want to shag you up against the wall right now."

"Is that so?" Hermione's lips were slightly parted and her voice was just the smallest bit breathless. "Well then, I guess we'll have to do something about that."

She felt Charlie's arms tighten around her, and then his lips were on hers and she could think of nothing else. Without missing a beat, Hermione launched herself from her seat and into her boyfriend's lap. Linking her arms around his neck, she looked directly into his eyes and what she saw reflected at her took her breath away; she swallowed and drew a shaky breath, for only her boyfriend had the ability to make her lose all sense of rationality.

"Dammit, Charlie..."

"You love it," he teased, bucking his hips upwards slightly. "I know you — mmmph!"

Hermione silenced him with a deep, mind-blowing kiss as her hands came up and threaded themselves in his hair. Charlie knew the exact moment when she changed; that unbelievably arousing sensation of her melting into him. He ran his tongue across her lips, exulting when she opened for him. She was straddling his legs, and the warm, fragrant weight of her nearly made him dizzy. He felt her tugging at the waistband of his jeans, and with a supreme effort of willpower, he tore himself away from her lips.

With outstanding strength, Charlie lifted Hermione upwards and flipped them over, pinning her arms to the padded seat of the train compartment. He lost control in the next moment, driving her against the wall with a destructive kiss that stole the breath out of both of them. His fingers slipped up into her hair, tugging at the nape of the neck, forcing her to groan into his mouth as their tongues collided. The need consumed both of them, and Charlie was surprised when Hermione pushed herself up against the wall to sit back up, yanking him in further; they were now pressed chest to chest as their tongues battled for dominance.

Her legs wrapped instinctively around Charlie's midriff, taking away all distance between them and positioning him right where he'd hoped to be since they'd first entered the compartment together; being trapped between Hermione's long, silky legs with his erection so dangerously close to her warm, wanting...

"This is reckless," she whispered between kisses, tugging at the bottom of Charlie's long-sleeved vest to bring it over his head. He let her, sliding out of it and watching it be tossed to the floor before bringing his eyes back up to hers. "Very reckless."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No... god, no," Hermione brought a hand up towards his cheek. "Don't ever stop, baby."

And when Charlie kissed her again, it was a lot more soft and gentle than ever before. Her hand slipped back around his neck, and his hands found their way underneath her Hogwarts jumper, yanking it over her head with subtle ease. Hermione moaned softly as he trailed kiss after delicate kiss down her body, unbuttoning her shirt along his path. Then, with her shirt thrown to the floor, she reached behind her back and undid each loop of her bra carefully, her courage growing with each tug of a button dislodged.

The steaminess of their actions seemed to create a foggy mist along the compartment windows; Charlie didn't seem to realize this, though, for he allowed his eyes to trail down over the curve of Hermione's breasts and the roundness of her hips before he became aware of something that made his skin crawl. His gaze fell upon the arm etched with that distasteful word, and once Hermione had realized what he'd been staring at, her apprehension reappeared and etched itself upon her face amongst the shadows. Charlie noticed this, however, and he gently brought her arm up to his lips, kissing over each letter:

"You."

M.

"Are."

U.

"Beautiful."

D.

"Intelligent."

B.

"Brave."

L.

"Sexy."

O.

"Compassionate."

O.

"Mine."

D.

"And I'm so in love with you, Hermione Granger."

Her name from his lips was like a prayer, untouchable and meaningful, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from reigniting the lustful desire between them. She pushed him onto his back, straddling him once more as she rolled her hips. Charlie's eyes lolled into the back of his head as her hands roamed down his body, trailing from the outline of his abdomen to his clothed, hardened member. She feverishly tore his remaining robes from his body, throwing them aside despite her previous protests of ruining their school attire; as it was now, the throbbing between her legs seemed to take precedence over everything else.

Hermione found herself licking her lips, the sexual prowess in her crawling out of the depths of her soul to settle between his legs as she reached for his belt buckle and fumbled to undo it. Charlie bit back every groan that elicited from the back of his throat as he felt his girlfriend press several open-mouthed kisses to his abdomen, all the while her hands undid the final button of his trousers, pulled them down to his ankles, and freed his member from its confines. Unable to control himself, Charlie bucked his hips as Hermione's hands wrapped around him, and as she began to slide down the length of his cock, he moaned louder than ever before.

"God, Hermione, please..."

Sliding lower, Hermione teased him even more as she pressed a kiss to his inner thigh, relishing in the sounds of his breathy mumbles and groans at her actions. She stuck her tongue out and swirled playfully around the head of his quivering cock. His eyes closed at the sensation, Charlie's hand reached out and fisted a good bit of her hair, encouraging her to part her lips to take all of him in. Then, as requested, Hermione's mouth slipped around him, adjusting to his length, tightening to leave no room but that for her wet tongue and soft lips.

Charlie groaned, his toes curling beneath her, as Hermione went all the way down to the base of his member. His hands were digging into the edge of his seat as he fought to maintain control; the muscles in his arms were corded and beads of sweat glimmered on his forehead as his girlfriend increased her tempo, causing him to release in the back of her throat.

"Merlin, fucking Jesus Christ..." he hissed through his teeth, as Hermione held it there for a moment, letting his high fade out, before tilting her head back and savouring the last of the insatiable taste in her mouth.

"Did that satisfy your urges?" she asked huskily, and it took Charlie a few moments to come to his senses and open his eyes, taking all of her in once again.

"Not quite..." he managed, and Hermione waited, eyes half-lidded in eagerness as he pulled her onto his lap once again and slipped his fingers between her legs, finally touching the place that practically yearned for him. His middle finger slipped between her folds as his thumb pushed her lacy underwear aside for better access. He traced it around her entrance, trailing along her slit, teasing.

"Charlie..." Hermione whispered into the steamy compartment air, placing her hand against the window for balance.

His fingers worked at a steady pace, neither going to slow or putting too much pressure. Hermione's hips bucked forward in response, and Charlie began to kiss her neck as he guided his length to her entrance with his opposite hand, filling her up with even more until her mouth fell open as he slammed into her like a hand in a fitted glove. Her head thrown back, her arms draped around his neck, Hermione rocked against his pelvis as Charlie gripped her hips tight, thrusting upwards while also working his fingers against her clitoris at the same time. They were in perfect unison, both of their bodies intertwined, confiding in each other in the most intimate of ways as they made love in the silent darkness of the train compartment.

Charlie showered her exposed skin with kiss after kiss as he moved in and out of her; Hermione raked her nails down his back in response, earning a tempered moan from him against the crook of her neck.

"Oh my God," he panted, nibbling at her earlobe. "You have... no idea... what you... do to me..."

"Don't stop, Charlie..."

And on her command, Charlie's thrusts became rougher and faster, and he gripped her backside for support as he drove into her, the room growing hotter and hotter. Hermione cried out, lost in the pain and the pleasure, unsure of which felt better. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his face; Charlie slipped one into his mouth, and Hermione all but lost it, coming undone at the seams, and before she knew what was happening, he was rocking her into another orgasm while she screamed at the top of her lungs. He buried his head into her shoulder, panting, driving them both to completion before he released, lost in a slur of incoherent words.

Hermione's fingers were tangled in her boyfriend's hair, grabbing fistfuls of his locks as her body trembled. In similar fashion, Charlie's own legs shook beneath him. He looked up to her, lost in his own primal orgasm, with his mouth parted and eyes heavy.

"Relaxed?" he asked cheekily, and they both laughed in the echoing compartment of the Hogwarts Express.

"You're lucky I love you, you know," whispered Hermione, elbowing him in the ribcage playfully, before she cupped his face in her hands and placed a few gentle kisses to his swollen lips. They relished in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breaths, coming down from the highest of highs as they felt every lurch of the train as it flew down the tracks. "We should get dressed," she said finally, much to Charlie's immediate displeased look. "We're nearly to school, and we're meant to direct the first-years."

Unable to resist, Charlie tightened his hold around her waist and continued to nip at her exposed skin, sniggering lightly as Hermione batted at his hands in attempt to free herself from his embrace.

"But what about another —"

Silencing him with a quick peck on the lips, Hermione seized the opportunity and used it as a distraction, pretending to give into him once more, before she scrambled off of him and out of his reach.

"Don't even think about it, Hawthorne," she scolded playfully. "You've got to behave yourself."

"Where's the fun in that?" Charlie laughed, catching one of her hands in his as he brought it to his mouth and began planting soft kisses along the knuckles. "Come on, baby, please — I'll be quick, I promise."

"Tempting, but no," Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him, giggling to herself as she pulled on her discarded clothes. "We'll have plenty of time for more of that later, especially when we're alone in our room..."

Charlie's eyes lit up, his cheeky grin growing wider.

"I'll hold you to it, then, Granger."

Her lips pursued, Hermione retreated back towards her boyfriend once more, tilting his head up, and closed the distance between them in one swift movement. She pulled away moments after, leaving Charlie utterly dazed by her insatiable actions.

"Oh, I'm counting on it," she whispered lowly against his mouth, letting her hands roam dangerously low towards his softening member. "So get dressed, and then we'll finish this later — that's my promise."

Having heard the slightly breathy catch in Hermione's voice that let him know she was not unaffected by his attentions, Charlie gave in and started rummaging in around the compartment for his robes. Then, as the Hogwarts Express lurched to a stop at their final destination, the Head Boy and Girl cleaned themselves up and went about their duties with their minds wandering elsewhere, for both of them couldn't help but fantasize about the many peaceful days — and lustful nights — to come with their seventh-year at Hogwarts...

(A/N: welcome back to all the innocent ppl who read this book <3 I know there's not many of you, but I love you anyway loll)

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March 18th, 1999

"I can't believe he's apologized," exclaimed Ginny, as she and Charlie walked back into the castle after Quidditch practice one afternoon. "I didn't think he had it in him, to be honest."

"Yeah, I didn't think so, either," shrugged Charlie, shouldering his broom as he walked through the corridors towards his dormitory. "But I guess people can change, can't they?"

"He'll always be a foul git to me, though," laughed Ginny, nudging Charlie slightly. "Best make him work for our forgiveness, wouldn't you say?"

"He's got to prove himself, no doubt," Charlie returned, agreeing. "That's not to say he doesn't deserve a chance, though. Everyone's changed since the war, haven't they? Why shouldn't that apply to him as well?"

"I suppose you're right," nodded Ginny, as they climbed the steps towards the dormitories. "Oh my Merlin, listen to us — who would've thought we would've had a soft spot for Draco Malfoy?"

"Like I said," laughed Charlie, shrugging, "everyone's changed since the war."

Arriving back at the Head Boy and Girl's two-bedroom dormitory that he shared with Hermione, Charlie led Ginny inside with a quick mutter of the password, and he found his girlfriend curled up in the living room, her nose in her Arithmancy textbook. Charlie wasn't surprised to find Hermione reading, as it was her usual pastime after an afternoon of classes, but he was slightly in awe to find her wearing the blue jumper he'd received from Mrs. Weasley at Christmas.

"Hey," he greeted, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"Hi, baby," Hermione returned, putting her book down and smiling up at her boyfriend. She shifted her gaze again, then said, "Hey, Gin! How was practice?"

"Quite surprising," said Ginny breathlessly, as she collapsed onto the common room couch. "Malfoy interrupted our scrimmage."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"What for?" she asked, moving over slightly so Charlie could sit down beside her on her favourite armchair. "Oh Merlin, please don't tell me you both have gone and caused a scene."

Charlie scoffed playfully, "You think so little of us."

"But you did almost hex him as soon as he stepped onto the pitch..." mumbled Ginny under her breath.

Hermione's eyes widened, her head cocked back towards her boyfriend accusingly.

"You did what?"

"Almost," emphasized Charlie, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist and pulling her closer, despite her chastised look. "I haven't tarnished my Head Boy image yet, baby, so don't worry."

"Yeah," nodded Ginny, "because Malfoy's surprisingly apologized for being a prat before Charlie got the chance, can you believe it?"

"Wait, what?" asked Hermione incredulously. "He's apologized in the middle of your practice?"

"Yeah, and in front of everyone, too," Ginny laughed, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table. "You should've heard him, Hermione. He went on and on about the war, and how he should've fought alongside us instead of the Death Eaters."

"In short, he's been feeling guilty," sighed Charlie, leaning back in his chair. "So we've told him that we understood why he did what he did. You can't choose your family, you know?"

"He did look a little pathetic if I'm honest, though," added Ginny, thinking back to their Quidditch practice. "He told us that he's even reached out to Harry and Ron in hopes of earning their forgiveness."

"Strange," remarked Hermione, her eyebrows still furrowed. "I don't recall receiving any apology from him."

"I suppose he'll ask you tomorrow during Potions," said Charlie reassuringly, his eyes hopeful. "However, I imagine his apology to you might be the hardest to deliver."

"Right," mumbled Hermione, her eyes glazed as she absentmindedly ran her thumb along the scar on her forearm. Having noticed this, Charlie tightened his hold around her waist and placed a gentle kiss to her temple. "We'll have to wait and see," she added finally, as her body relaxed into her boyfriend's embrace.

"Speaking of Harry and Ron," chimed in Ginny, changing tact quickly, "have either of you heard from them?"

"Ron's been busy helping George with the joke shop," explained Charlie, smiling softly. "And as for Harry, I imagine him and Elaina are preoccupied with planning their wedding."

"I still can't believe they got engaged at Christmas!" exclaimed Ginny, shaking her head in disbelief. "I had money on you two being the first to tie the knot."

"Yeah, well, you can blame Hermione for that," sniggered Charlie, nudging his girlfriend playfully. "She's already rejected my efforts on multiple occasions."

"No, I haven't!" scolded Hermione, swatting at Charlie's chest. "I've merely suggested that we should wait until after we've graduated. Besides, I don't recall you ever buying a ring!"

Much to Hermione's lack of awareness, Ginny's eyes furrowed in confusion at this and she casted a look in Charlie's direction, who merely shook his head eagerly. Having not taken this as a hint, she pressed on with necessary demand for an answer.

"But I thought you —"

"Merlin, I'm starving," Charlie cut her off, standing up abruptly. "I didn't have time to eat before practice."

"I thought so," responded Hermione, and as though she knew of this outcome, she stood up and moved towards the kitchenette in their dorm room. "But not to worry, I've saved you some dinner."

"This — among many other reasons — is precisely why I love you," Charlie called after his girlfriend, as she walked out of the room to retrieve his food. He waited for a moment, then turned back around to Ginny, whispering, "Hush up about the ring, won't you? I haven't told her yet."

"And why haven't you, exactly?" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest,"You know she'll say yes!"

"You heard her," said Charlie lowly, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. "She wants to wait."

"If she knew you already had a ring," began Ginny, casting a cautious look towards the door in which Hermione had disappeared behind, "then I know she'd change her mind about —"

"Here you go," came Hermione's voice once more, as she bustled back into the room with a plate of food in her hands. She handed the plate to Charlie, then glanced between him and Ginny, who both looked weirdly suspicious, and said, "What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing at all," lied Charlie, sitting down at a nearby table and using magic to reheat his leftovers. "I was just telling Ginny how much of a perfect little housewife you are... you know, cooking and all that."

"I don't think so," Hermione giggled, going along with it, as she sat in the chair opposite Charlie. She had developed a love for cooking, and had no problems making dinner for her boyfriend on occasion, but there was more to her life than being a housewife.

"Yeah," laughed Charlie, shrugging. "It's not really you, is it?"

"Not really," Hermione agreed, her lips curling into a soft smile. "But are you complaining?"

"I wouldn't change you for anything," Charlie admitted, his eyes taking her in from head to toe. "Even if you are a tease in that outfit," he added, smirking.

"I'm merely giving you a glimpse of dessert," Hermione replied silkily, shrugging her shoulder, which caused the jumper to slip even further down her arm.

"I'm not sure I'm hungry anymore," muttered Charlie, his mouth slightly agape. "Or at least not for food."

"Alright, I'm going to take that as cue my to leave," coughed Ginny awkwardly, and she stood up and practically ran for the portrait hole. "I'll see you later, you hyper-sexual weirdos!" she called after them, as she clambered out into the corridor and the portrait door swung closed behind her.

Hermione waited until they were completely alone once more, then looked back towards Charlie with a sly smile as she leaned across the table, her chin resting upon her hand.

"Aren't you going to finish eating?"

"The only thing I want is you," Charlie returned lowly, reaching for Hermione and pulling her into his lap. "Fancy an early night?"

"I thought you would never ask," sighed Hermione contently, as she cupped his face in her hands and feverishly connected their lips together.

Still locked in a heated embrace, the Gryffindor couple slowly made their way up to their shared bedroom, where they spent the rest of the night in each other's arms.

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May 2nd, 1999

The ground was cold, and the black tile beneath her seemed intent on being an abyss. Her body was being pressed further against it, as far as she could go, though the image seemed to go on forever. Looking up, a glass chandelier was hanging menacingly over her, ready to crash down upon her delicate frame if it were to fall.

Malfoy Manor was covered in darkness, the only light in the room coming from the wand making her writhe in pain. The wand, as insane as its owner, curved along the deranged witch's hand as she pointed and carved at the body on the floor; Bellatrix Lestrange knew how to torture her prisoners, knew how to make them confess their sins.

"Tell me, Mudblood," an eerie voice said to her, causing shivers to go along her spine as the break in the curse gave her a moment to catch her to breath, "where did you get the sword?"

"We found it, it's not real. I promise!" she cried, knowing that no matter what she did, the pain would not stop until she either died or lost her mind. growl of frustration at the prisoner's continuous lies. The pain in Hermione's arm was blinding when Bellatrix brought the enchanted knife down and started engraving letters into her skin.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" came the haunted voice of Charlie from across the room, and it proved to be the only sound that gave her the strength to keep fighting.

"Filthy Mudblood," Bellatrix snarled, her shrill voice reaching all across the manor. "The lot of you ought to be branded!"

"No, no, no," she heard herself say, but as the final letter carved into her arm, the numbness overtook her and the fire burned within her veins. "Make it stop... please, make it stop..."

————————————————————

"Make it stop... please, make it stop..."

"It's not real, baby, it's not real!"

"No, no, no!"

"Wake up, Hermione, wake up! HERMIONE!"

And with a gentle nudge, Hermione awoke with a start, her breath heavy and her bed drenched in sweat. Her arm twitched in pain, causing her to lightly rub her hand over the scarred lettering. She blinked in her surroundings slowly, and feelings of utter relief overtook her once she realized where she was; the curtains were drawn on the four-poster bed, though she recognized the outline of the room even in the midst of darkness.

As the bed creaked beside her, Hermione tensed ever so slightly until the warmth of Charlie's palm came into contact with her cheek. He pulled her gaze to focus on him, and all of her terrors seemed to fade at the sight of his golden brown eyes. Hermione practically melted into his embrace, thankful for the comfort. Without a word, Charlie gently wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, kissing the side of her head as a form of endearment.

With a glance upwards, Hermione locked eyes with him once more, speaking so many subconscious thoughts within that single glance. Having understood, Charlie merely nodded and closed the distance between them, kissing her deep and hard, holding her closer to his chest. He threw every ounce of love he could into that kiss, and thought his heart might've burst when she slowly reciprocated. When they broke the embrace after several moments, Charlie let Hermione settle in the crook of his neck as he began peppering kissed along her 'Mudblood' scar once again; he felt her shudder as a flash of lightening illuminated the sky through the window panes in their bedroom.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said weakly. "It's j-just — I've been having these nightmares every night."

"I know."

"It's the anniversary, Charlie..."

"I know."

"They're always the same... Malfoy Manor... B-Bellatrix and... and..."

"Shhh... no more, my love. It's over now, it's okay," he soothed her, with soft words and gentle caresses, for he understood her struggles better than anyone else. Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, just above his heart. She could hear it's soft, steady beating, and allowed herself to relax at the sound. It was a gentle reminder that she wasn't alone, that they would always have each other. "Try to get some sleep, baby," he whispered softly, and they leaned back against their pillows once again, still entangled together. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

With a gentle sigh, Hermione nodded quietly before leaning up and placing one last kiss to the underside of Charlie's jawline. She then settled herself back against his chest once more, matching the smile that etched its way on his lips, and finally let herself fall into a deep sleep.

Together, they slept peacefully through the night...

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Charlie walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts on a late Sunday evening. The moon was shining bright through the grand windows as the clock struck twelve and signalled the end of his patrolling Head Boy duties, though as he involuntarily clutched at his right pocket, there was one last destination that sprung to the forefront of his mind.

As his feet carried him down the familiar hallway belonging to the Headmaster's quarters, Charlie stopped in front of the gargoyle and muttered the password before striding up the steps two at a time and knocking three times, hearing a faint greeting from behind the door.

He swung the door swung open, and Charlie's eyes immediately found McGonagall, her hair out of its usual tight bun and her dressing gown tied around her. In one of the armchairs opposite her was the Minister of Magic, Kingsley, who smiled slightly as he greeted the young Hawthorne boy.

"Ah, Charles! It's good to see you, young man," greeted Kingsley, in his usual calm and soothing voice. "I've been meaning to speak with you, but I was willing to wait until tomorrow evening given the circumstances."

"Everything alright?" Charlie asked, his paranoia from the war kicking in again. He visibly tensed as he stepped further into the room, casting a relieved smile towards the portrait of his grandfather, who merely reciprocated the young man's smile and peered down upon him through his half-lidded spectacles.

"Maybe you should sit down, son," said McGongall weakly, and Charlie nodded, taking a seat in front of the desk next to Kingsley and opposite the Headmistress.

"It's about your father," muttered Kingsley, causing Charlie's expression to change momentarily to display that of slight fear, which was shot down by the Minster. "Not to worry! He's still in Azkaban, everything's fine."

"So it's about his trial then?" Charlie asked, and Kingsley nodded, taking a quick glance at Dumbledore's portrait, who nodded his head.

"Half of the Ministry have called for the death penalty, the other half have called for the Dementor's kiss, for they seem content to let the man suffer for the rest of his life," explained Kingsley, and Charlie felt himself shiver slightly at the mentions of the horrifying creatures. "However, as his son and the last living heir of the Hawthorne echelon, the Ministry have decided that you should get the deciding vote."

"M-Me?" Charlie asked, his heart-rate skyrocketing as he broke out in a sweat.

"Fenwick Hawthorne had many victims, but you and Hermione are the only ones who lived to tell the tale," sighed Kingsley, shaking his head. "You see, I've already spoken with Miss Granger —"

"And?"

"She- she voted for Fenwick's death," whispered Kingsley, and Charlie nodded, taking a deep breath as he wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

There was a brief moment of silence, for even the portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses seemed to be shocked by this news.

"Hermione's right," mumbled Charlie finally, and McGonagall, who had stayed silent along with everyone else, gasped in shock, but the young man ignored her. "My father may have been a horrid man, but no one deserves the Dementor's Kiss."

"Okay, I'll let the Ministry know." Kingsley coughed, stood abruptly, said his goodbyes to the Headmistress and the Hawthorne boy, and left the room with outstanding haste, leaving Charlie and McGonagall alone with their thoughts.

"Maybe you should head to bed now, too, Charles," suggested McGonagall quietly, glancing at her watch. "It's twelve thirty, and you have classes tomorrow."

"I wanted to ask you and grandfather something, actually," countered Charlie, remembering the reason for his visit, and McGonagall sighed, nodding her head as Dumbledore continued to peer down at him interestedly. "What would you say," he began, fumbling to pull a small box out of his pocket, "if I were to ask Hermione to marry me at the end of term, at graduation?"

As a ripple of gasps and murmurs broke out within the Headmaster's office, Charlie opened the small black box absentmindedly, ignoring everyone around him. There was a thin golden ring inside, with only a single diamond encrusted in it, but the story behind it meant more than it's actual worth; the ring had once belonged to his grandmother, Florence, and it was meant to be passed down through the family.

"I could recognize that from anywhere," Dumbledore piped up, smiling slightly. "But where did you find it?"

"It was still at the Hawthorne manor," explained Charlie, shrugging. "Mum had kept it in the attic with the rest of grandmother's things, and Fenwick never seemed to find its hiding spot."

"But are you sure you want to do this, Charles? You're both so young," McGonagall tried to reason with him, but Charlie was having none of it.

"If you were to have asked me that at the beginning of the war, I would've agreed with you," Charlie told her, standing up and pacing the floor. "Between my father and Voldemort, there was a possibility that I wouldn't've survived. I've challenged death more times than you could possibly imagine, Professor, but somehow Hermione's stuck by me through it all. She's fought for us in every way, and she's proven to me that we can make our relationship work even in the darkest of times. We're soulmates, and I know there is no heart for me like hers. Believe me, I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"Yes, yes, we know," hummed Dumbledore's portrait. "Minerva and I have always known you'd end up with Miss Granger since the start of your fourth-year."

"That's right," beamed McGonagall, with an amused smile on her face. She cleared her throat, "Now, off to bed, Charles! We'll talk more about this later."

"Sure thing," the young man grinned. "Goodnight," and with a wave goodbye, he bid a farewell to both McGonagall and Dumbledore before bustling from the room with a content smile plastered on his face.

"The resilience that young man possesses is remarkable," stated McGonagall, pointing towards the door in which Charlie had just disappeared behind. "And that is precisely why I know he'll make an excellent Headmaster one day."

"Speaking of," began Dumbledore, his icy blues eyes glittering beneath the moonlight peering in from the windows, "have you thought more about when you might deliver the news, Minerva?"

"I think it'd be fitting to tell him at the end of term," McGonagall informed him. "And if all goes well, Charles will have a new job and a fiancé to welcome him into the new year..."

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June 25th, 1999

The Hogwarts class of '99 was somewhat unusual. While it was a bit larger than most, as it included some of those who should have graduated a year earlier but were delayed by the war, what made it really unusual was the maturity of most of the graduates and the patina of sadness that even the end-of-school celebrations couldn't wash away. Considering the fact that quite a few of these graduates had fought in the battle that had taken place on the same grounds just over a year earlier, many of whom lost their friends and family, it was natural that they were still somewhat sad.

And yet, the end of the school year had still dawned, and the graduates gathered with their loved ones at the castle in the Scotland hillside, each of them relieved with the completion of their NEWT exams, of which Hermione received the highest scores of the century. They wore raven black dress robes, though the collars were lined with the colours of their Houses, and the tassels on their graduation caps mimicked that of a Muggle graduation ceremony.

As Head Boy and Head Girl, Charlie and Hermione sat up front, with Hogwarts staff and Ministry officials sat on their opposite sides. The ceremony had been in full swing for about an hour, of which the Minister, followed by some more dignitaries, gave short speeches of congratulations before McGonagall stood at the front podium and welcomed the next speaker.

"I am honoured and delighted to invite the brightest witch I have ever known to now come forward," began McGonagall, who glanced towards the graduates with a look of tearful pride. "This remarkable young lady is a world renowned heroine of the Second Wizarding War, one of the youngest recipients of the Order of Merlin, and our very own Head Girl. Now, without further ado, please join me in welcoming Miss Hermione Granger to speak on behalf of the graduating class."

The crowd of guests and graduates exploded into applause, hoots and hollers. Hermione took a deep breath and did her best to quell the urge to vomit, though with a squeeze of her hand from her boyfriend beside her, she stood and held her head high as she made her way to the podium, using her wand to silently cast the Sonorous Charm on herself. She resisted the urge to wipe her palms on her skirt as she started as she had rehearsed for hours the day before with Charlie in their dorm room.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Witches and Wizards, I'd personally like to thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate the ending of our time as students and the beginning of our lives as adults in the Wizarding World," she began shakily, clearing her throat a little. "We're deeply grateful to the staff of this time-honoured establishment for their effort to turn us from a bunch of mostly irresponsible children with little or no knowledge of our abilities, into what we are now — adult witches and wizards who can carry on the great traditions of our kind.

"That being said, it important to note that our Professors were not the only ones to shape us during our time here. As I'm sure many of you are aware, there were other events that affected the whole Wizarding World and did not pardon us. The Second Wizarding War that raged within these very grounds merely fourteen months ago shaped us just as much, and in some cases even more.

"The war taught us about bravery, integrity, sacrifice, and so much more. When I began writing this speech, I told myself that I would not get on my soapbox about this war and the devastation that it left behind. I told myself that I would not allow the horrors of yesterday plague our dreams of tomorrow. However, I know that our shared pain will not go away overnight, nor will these days ever feel the same as the souls of our lost loved ones are forced to watch over us...

"Which is why, I'd like to take the time now to acknowledge the courage and sacrifice of those lost in battle, and I hope to assure all of you that their lives will not be in vain. Our successes today are in honour of them, for they have given us the chance to embark on our new beginnings. Thank you on behalf of all of us gathered here today, we miss you terribly."

Hermione paused for a moment of silence, then continued, "To my fellow classmates, as I look out at the lot of you, I think back to our time as terrified first-years, whom were just about to embark on the journey that would one day shape us into the people we are today. And I, much like all of you, will forever be grateful to Hogwarts for giving me the best years of my life, despite any turmoil we might've faced along the way.

"You see, everything I've ever known has become a testament behind these castle walls. The memories I've made that will last forever, and I'm honoured to say that Hogwarts has allowed me to find both the bestest of friends and the love of my life. Believe me, it is my greatest hope to be able to tell my children, my grandchildren, and if I live long enough, my great-grandchildren about the brilliance of each and every one of you.

"So, with that said, I leave you now with one final anecdote that I'm sure you all will remember quite fondly. In the words of our late Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, 'Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.'

"So congratulations everyone, we did it, we made it!"

Everyone stood up and cheered at the end of Hermione's speech; many people were crying, Charlie and Headmistress McGonagall among them. It seemed to resonate deeply amongst the crowd, for murmurs and whispers of commemoration and understanding managed to stir within them; they seemed to realize that they had to go out and live, or else they were shaming those who'd sacrificed themselves for the greater good. Hermione made eye contact with Charlie as she stood at the podium, accepting her applause, and he smiled up at her through his tears.

"That's my girlfriend!" he shouted proudly, and the people around him awed as Hermione climbed down from the podium, found Charlie in the crowd, and quickly placed a soft kiss on his lips in response. "Brilliant," he whispered against her mouth. "Absolutely brilliant."

"I'll love you forever," Hermione blushed, snaking her hands around his neck, "as long as you'll have me."

"You can't get rid of me that easily..." Charlie silenced her with another kiss, this one more passionate.

Julianne Hawthorne wiped the tears from her eyes as she watched her son, and future daughter-in-law, from Heaven. Her best friend, Lily, was also crying, and James was holding her consolingly. Sirius and Lupin looked close to tears as well, and even though no one noticed it, Snape was slightly tearing up; everyone who had died from the war was there, including Tonks and Fred, who didn't know whether to laugh or cry of pure joy. Stood in solidarity, there were hundred of people in Heaven listening to Hermione Granger's speech, and it touched their hearts...

"Atta boy, Char!" shouted Hagrid from the crowd, and all of the dead managed a laugh.

They were simply glad that after such a torturous year, everyone seemed to find their happiness with each other; Julianne started crying again, for her son had found a love, and in one so special...

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The ceremony had ended, the sun had began to set along the horizon, and Charlie found himself anxiously pacing the hidden dock he'd shown Hermione in fifth-year; it still looked incredibly worn, yet sturdy, and the sunset reflected on the water added to the beauty of the scenery surrounding the hidden alcove that Charlie found when he was a kid.

He'd been in his head since the end of the ceremony, his palms sweaty as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do. His fingers cautiously toyed with the small, black box in his pocket as he stared out at the water, wondering how he might start the proclamation of his heart's deepest desire.

Walking to his death was nothing compared to this.

Charlie had never been more nervous in his entire life. He should've really thought this through, but planning was Hermione's forte, not his unfortunately. His mind raced with the thousands of possible outcomes as he paced the worn, wooden dock, and they consumed every ounce of sensibility he'd tried to gather within the day.

She could say no.

He could stumble as he tried to get down on one knee.

She could say no.

He could say something wrong, do something wrong.

She could say —

"There you are," came the voice of the woman who occupied his thoughts, and Charlie quickly pulled himself from his reverie in time to see Hermione walk down the path towards him, her lips curled upwards. "You're missing the Ball, you know?"

"Sorry," responded Charlie, with a small smile, as his nervousness eased a bit once Hermione joined him on the dock. "I just needed a moment to think."

"Everything okay?" asked Hermione worriedly, closing the distance between them and cupping his face in her hands. "You've been acting strange all evening."

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Charlie, trying to wave off the concern, "I'm just feeling a bit nervous, nothing more."

"About what?" Hermione laughed, as if his symptoms made no sense to her. "Is this about me?" she asked lowly, running her thumb over his bottom lip. "Am I making you nervous?"

"You always make me nervous," whispered Charlie, and he swore the ring was burning a hole in his pocket, his heart beating faster than the wings of the Golden Snitch. "But yeah, I suppose it's more prominent today."

Hermione looked into his eyes, unconvinced. "Love, what's wrong?"

"Nothing! Well, there is, but it shouldn't be worrying me and it is, and..."

"Charlie," she whispered, trailing her hands down his torso to interlock their hands, "you know you can tell me anything."

He gulped, looking down at their now joined hands and found the strength for what he was about to say.

"Hermione, we've been through a lot haven't we?"

"More than others," she replied, with a shy smile.

"We have," he began, taking a deep breath, "and it's made me think more about what our future might look like together. My love, the past three years have been the best of my life because of you, and I don't even want to think about spending another day without you..."

He looked into Hermione's eyes to find them filling with tears, "Charlie —"

"You've saved my life, Hermione," he pressed on, emotion clogging his throat. "Every time you touch me, the place where you touched me goes numb. Every time you walk into a room, my heart starts to pound within my chest. Every time you look at me, I somehow believe that there's something within me that's worthy of your love.

"I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I want nothing more in this world than to be able to call you mine forever. Hermione, I want to grow old with you, start a family with you, and fall more and more in love with you every day for the rest of my life. I'm completely and faithfully yours, and I've been dying to ask you this for such a long time..."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small ring box. Tears rolling dow her cheeks, Hermione's hands cupped her mouth as Charlie opened the box with his thumb, revealing the beautiful family heirloom resting inside.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he whispered, getting down onto one knee, "everything I've ever known has led me to you. So, if you'll have me, I want to dedicate the rest of my life to proving how completely in love with you I am. Please, would you make me the happiest wizard on earth and marry me?"

"Yes, Charlie!" gasped Hermione, without the slightest hesitation. "Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!"

"Really?" awed Charlie, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Of course, I'll marry you!" squealed Hermione, as Charlie slipped the ring onto her finger and stood up, taking her into his arms before kissing her passionately. "It took you long enough," she teased, flinging her arms around him. "We're engaged, Charlie... we're engaged!"

"We are," he hummed contently, "and it would've happen sooner, but you said you wanted to wait until after graduation."

"Caught on, have you?" laughed Hermione, rubbing their noses together as her smile grew wider and wider. "I love you so much, Charlie Hawthorne."

"That's Headmaster Charlie Hawthorne to you," teased Charlie, emphasizing the word. "I meant to tell you, but McGonagall's offered me the job."

"Headmaster Hawthorne," repeated Hermione, enjoying the way the title left her lips as they listened to the cedars hum around them. "I like the way that sounds."

"Oh, I dunno," sighed Charlie contently, resting his forehead down upon hers. "I personally think that 'future Mrs. Hawthorne' sounds much better."

"You're right," whispered Hermione, pressing her lips to his quickly. "Much better."

"My fiancé," muttered Charlie, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist and pulling her closer.

"My fiancé," she repeated, glancing between the ring on her finger and Charlie. "I can't wait to marry you."

"It'll be an honour to be your husband," he returned, his voice full of raw, unfiltered happiness. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

And Charlie Hawthorne knew that right there, in that moment, he was indeed the happiest and most fortunate man on earth.

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

AND... WE'RE BACK!

I've missed you all SO much, and I hope you love the first chapter of the epilogue <3

Charlie and Hermione are engaged :,)

lmk what you thought of this chapter in the comments, it was a bit more abstract than most with the time jumps loll

[insert begging for comments and votes]

also thanks to TomasGranger003 for help on the chapter! ilyyy

until next time,

xo, selena

p.s. y'all got smut AND an engagement in the same chapter... lmfao you're welcome!