"Charlie Weasley! I cannot believe you've resorted to modelling for that -- that -- scandalous rag! I expect --"

Dear Charlie,

Could you explain why your mum camped out in my lounge room for the past two days, and then intercepted a fairly large package? I recognised Cawthorne when he flew in the window.

What were you sending? It's not my birthday for another couple of months, and, Charlie, we've never exchanged gifts before.

May I tell you I'm a tad puzzled, not to mention that your mum has me a little worried? Her behaviour was distinctly odd.

Affectionately,

Hermione

Dear Charlie,

You know how much I love books, and it was really generous of you to think of me. Honestly, all Ron or Harry ever do is give me Flourish and Blotts gift tokens -- at least you knew to choose actual books, whatever they were.

If you think a face to face conversation is important, of course I'll make time. Is everything all right? I mean, with your mum reacting the way she did -- and, do you know, she's been avoiding me all week? Did I do something to offend her or your dad? I wouldn't do that for anything.

If it's urgent, because I have some holiday time coming to me, and I could meet you somewhere. I haven't ever been to a dragon reserve (it's something I've always rather dreamt about, but never had the opportunity to do).

Please let me know.

With bated breath,

Hermione

Salut, Charlie!

Now that you've so kindly reassured me I've done nothing to offend your family (although your having to resort to liquid courage to tell me what's going on is a little nerve-wracking, and I promise I haven't mentioned the possibility of seeing you to anyone,) I'm already studying the phrasebook you sent in preparation for seeing Bucharest. It's a marvellous little book, and I've taken to carrying it with me. I've read that many people call Bucharest a little Paris (one of my favourite cities,) and I look forward to seeing if the Arcul de Triumf is anything like the original.

Oh, Charlie, how incredibly kind of you to arrange the Portkey. I could've done it from here, but you've made my travel planning much easier. I've taken the leap and told the Ministry I'll be on holiday from August fifteenth through the thirtieth (although I don't have to stay in Romania for that length of time if your schedule isn't as accommodating.) Since it's the first holiday I haven't been forced to take I'm suddenly the focus of some intense curiosity.

Harry says I'm being as secretive as when we went hunting Horcruxes; I told him that was a horrid comparison because I'm looking forward to this trip far more. And it's true. Like you, I'm eager to see you again -- whatever awful secret you have to reveal can't really compare to the pleasure of its being you having to tell it.

Our recent correspondence has made me realise just how much I've missed our late-night chats in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and the Burrow. You have always been one of my favourite parts of Christmas.

Honestly, I think you're making more of this secret than there need be. I certainly won't jinx you. My temper, while we both have reason to know is . . . er . . . mercurial, it isn't unreasonable. Besides, you have the dragons as surety of my even-temper.

I think my quill has run away with me; I've rambled on a bit. But, oh, I haven't looked forward to something this much in a very long time. Thank you, Charlie, for sending me the books and for being, well, you.

Please let me know where you'd like to meet up, and if you can't get away on the fifteenth, I'm certainly capable of wandering the Callea Victoriei by myself.

Fondly, and in eager anticipation,

Hermione

Buna dimineata, Charlie,

I adore a man who does his homework! You have no idea how appealing it is to me - I suspect it's a big part of the reason Ron and I never worked out. He begrudged me the time to study, and to be fair to him, I resented his unwillingness to learn as much about his future career as possible. We never would have worked out, and I'm so glad that it's all behind us because I think we're better friends as a result. It also helped that Madam Croaker persuaded me to make a lateral move into the Department of Mysteries just after Ron and I called it quits. I've always wondered if your dad didn't send her an owl.

We've - that's you and I - have never talked about it, and I've always admired your restraint. I'd say you're the least tenacious of your siblings, but considering how hard you've worked at your career (and just when were you going to mention your promotion, Mr. I'm-now-in-charge-of-the-entire-European-breeding-program?) I know that you're focused and determined. Perhaps it's that you're gracious enough to mind your own business, and that is an admirable quality.

I think I'm wandering off-track.

Letting an apartment is an excellent idea. I hadn't thought of it - and please thank your colleague for the loan of her computer for me, too - and now that I do, I couldn't imagine a better idea. While the price may seem a bit dear, I'm looking forward to the idea of exploring the farmer's markets and cooking a bit (if you don't mind) which should mitigate the expense.

After living in a tent for several months, with none of us really knowing how to cook (it usually fell to me anyway,) and living mostly on potatoes and point as Mum used to say, I badgered both your mum and mine to teach me how to cook. I think it really helped me that summer after it was all over, and I hope it helped your mum. I think we became friends that year.

I'm not suggesting we cook every night, but certainly I'd like a night in on occasion, and I can't really think of anything more pleasant than a homemade goulash and a glass of Pinot Noir with your company for an entire evening.

The apartments you picked are brilliant, and I do hope you'll forgive me if I was a bit impetuous and have already let the Unirii Square apartment. I got a fantastic discount for hiring it online -- my parents' computer might be old, but it surfs the net beautifully -- and I've already paid for twenty days (it was the best rate.) I realise it's longer than my official leave, but if I'm lucky, I might be able to swing the extra days.

You were absolutely right. That view is breathtaking, and I'll probably conjure a couple of chairs for that balcony. I'm already eager to have breakfast out there. A little Impervius Charm ought to keep any rain from making it a soggy experience.

Please tell me you're not angry. You're the one who's accommodating me by getting leave . . . and of course I understand about emergencies. I'd love to spend a night or two . . . or more, if necessary . . . at the reserve. Believe me, Charlie, after living with Harry and Ron - and their stinky socks - in the tent, I understand what living basic means. I'm sure the Reserve is much nicer!

Honestly, I hadn't thought about going to Prague, although it might be lovely to see Viktor again (that's where he lives now.) Would you be willing to go to one of his games? He's always offering to send me tickets I can't use, but it might be lovely to see him, and I've only met his wife once. She was a beautiful bride, and she makes him happy.

Several of my colleagues have perked their ears up over my upcoming holiday - fortunately your letters come to my flat rather than the office, or I'm certain you would've already had a visit from one of the Unspeakables checking up on you! They're terrible gossips. And you should see Ginny and Harry, one or both of them Floo me daily to beg for information. I think they're losing weight! But it's none of their business, I've even promised to give my parents contact information. They send their warmest regards, by the way. I do hope you don't mind that I've told them about seeing you?

You've made me blush, and I definitely won't make you eat your boot. Undoubtedly, it would give you indigestion.

Yes, I was quite taken aback by the compliment - I don't get many of them, you know. Well not sincere compliments (there are any number of scandal-mongers who are hoping to 'pull' one of the Golden Trio) and yours was so unexpected. That isn't to say it isn't welcome.

Surely you know how attractive you are. You practically stole my breath the first time I met you (competence is very appealing,) but you were an older man - not to mention Ron's brother - and I knew you wouldn't look at me twice. After we defeated Voldemort, I don't think I noticed much of anything for a long time. Ron was terribly sweet then - did you know most of his 'moves' he learned from a book the twins gave him? The three of us had to reconcile ourselves to what we'd done in order to survive. Then we had to find a way forward. Those two years were perhaps the most difficult of my life - considering the things which went before, that's saying something.

Charlie, I know this letter is getting long and now it's veering into more serious territory, but you should know that I've done things I'm not particularly proud of, and while I'd be honoured to appear on your arm anywhere at any time, you might want to think about what it really means.

I won't be offended if you don't want to explore the possibilities which suddenly, surprisingly, seemed to have appeared before us, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to explore them (I'll never lie to you.) Our friendship is equally precious to me, but if you're willing, I think I'd like to see if there is more between us.

All right, enough seriousness.

You needn't worry about your tattoo, I think it's rather fetching, and if you're very, very good, I might show you mine.

Expect me on the fifteenth just after eleven. If you don't mind going into Muggle Bucharest, a friend of mine suggested Vatra Restaurant near the Cismigiu Gardens (apparently one of their big attractions is that they don't have an orchestra competing for attention.)

Affectionately yours,

Hermione

Dearest Charlie,

Without meaning to sound clichéd, may I just tell you at the outset that you've made me a bit breathless? It's not something that happens often (ever before,) and I'm probably still blushing.

Yes, well . . . er . . . .

I'm appalled anyone would ever think of you as muscle-bound arm candy, or even worse, would tell you so directly. It's blindingly obvious that an incisive intelligence lurks behind those - admittedly - rugged and handsome features of yours. Charlie, really, I'm so very proud of you. You're the youngest ever to be appointed to the position, you know. I should warn you though . . . I'm afraid I may have let the snitch out of the trunk about seeing you on holiday. One of my colleagues caught me reading your article, Husbanding Moldavian Breeding Stock. It might've passed without comment because my reading interests are varied and eclectic, and he knows of my friendship with your family. However, Baden also noticed the dynamic map of Moldavia I'd spread across my desk. It might have been the glowing outline of the reserve which drew his attention. I've got better about misdirection and could have bluffed successfully except he's one of the Department Heads and knows me quite well. Regrettably, dragons are not remotely connected to my current endeavours.

I'm so glad you told me about Bill because he 'dropped by' yesterday to take me to lunch - it does happen sometimes, but not often - and he asked me all sorts of questions. Don't be upset with him! I know he does it out of affection for you, but I think I assured him of my honourable intentions. Does he always get pompous (a bit like Percy really) when he's protective? I think I like him all the better for it. He showed me the latest pictures of Victoire - she's adorable. And have you heard their news? I can't tell you if you haven't but I'm very happy for them.

I've printed up all the pictures for the apartment, and I keep looking at them from time-to-time. You have every right to be pleased about your choice, it's perfect. I can easily imagine the huge grin on your face. Really, it's the ideal place, and I do look forward to cooking with you: side-by-side, or even for you, or letting you experiment (I know all about your 'stuffed spuds'). I think I'd enjoy cooking for you. You could open a bottle of wine and just talk to me - you know I love to listen to you talk. Your voice has a soothing quality to it (I suspect it's from working with highly volatile beings.)

Speaking of your voice -- may I tell you a little fantasy I've had recently? I imagine curling up in front of the apartment's fireplace, closing my eyes and listening to you read to me. I'm not choosy about the material; as long as you read aloud, you may choose anything. You may even think me as girly as you like, and I promise not to hold it against you.

I've given Mum and Dad the apartment's address and owl direction, and Dad assures me he won't let Mum's curiosity get the better of her. I'll wait to tell you what she said in person, just so I can see you blush!

Are you sitting in the wreck room as you read this? If so, shall I give you something to really blush about? But it might shock you, so I'm not sure I should say anything yet.

Thank you for explaining the general organisation of the reserve's accommodations. I want to do my share of whatever communal tasks there are to be done. I wouldn't want anyone to think I'm not willing to help. After spending that year with Harry and Ron, I'm quite practiced at casting Privacy Spells when I bathe, but I appreciate that I won't be inconveniencing anyone too much, and perhaps we won't have to worry about a cot by the time we arrive at the reserve.

There. Did I shock you? I hope not too much.

You already know how handsome you are - but there's more to my attraction to you than just the fact that your smile has a tendency to make me weak in the knees, or that one of your hugs can make my entire day brighter. I already know we're compatible intellectually; you're one of the few men outside my professional arena who actually listen to what I have to say. That's such a rare quality, and I treasure it above most things. Bill and your dad are also amongst this select company.

I'm still adjusting to the paradigm shift - I've always thought you regarded me as something of a little sister, so I've worked diligently not to allow any fancy I might have for you to develop into something more. Charlie, I want you to know straight up that I don't do superficial . . . I'm dreadful at it, actually. And I'm not very patient, so taking things slowly is difficult for me. I tend to leap with both my head and my heart, and I never quite know if there's somewhere safe to land.

What I'm saying, and badly at that, is while my mind is telling me to slow down and see where things take us (because your friendship is too precious to squander), my heart is urging me to leap into the unknown because it tells me that you'll be there to catch me.

I'm so grateful you recognised the difference in me after it was all over, I'm not sure Ron has ever quite accepted it - another shortcoming in our long-term prospects, but for which I'm now very grateful. I love Ron dearly, and always will, but I think his relationship with Luna has been extremely good for him. She needs him in ways I never did. That was difficult for him. He needs to be needed, and I want to be wanted.

I learned early on that my emotional health was my own concern, and I have finally come to recognise my own worth, regardless of popular opinion.

Your family's acceptance of me as a witch, regardless of my Muggle birth, is what helped me find my bearings in the wizarding world. Knowing I was welcomed for my own self - and not because I could perform academically - grounded me in ways I can't express adequately in words (it's growing late here, but I think better when it's quiet). I hope your parents know how much I love them - truthfully, it's almost as much as I love my own parents - and if any time I've spent with them has given your mum or Dad or even George some comfort, then I would gladly do it again.

When I mention the terrible things I've done, it's because I want you to know that I made some choices during my school years - and during the war - that I'm not terribly proud of. Reconciling my emotional reactions with my logical comprehension that what we did was necessary has been difficult. Sometimes expedience isn't noble, nor is it pretty. What we did kept us alive; it kept us sane (barely,) and it gave us the ammunition we needed to end the war. I won't ever say 'win' in relation to the Battle of Hogwarts, because the cost was too dear.

Yet I have learned some valuable lessons. Life is precious, and all too often it is cut short when it most needs to be lengthened. It's with this understanding that I approach our upcoming holiday.

If we choose to remain friends after our interlude, then I will know it isn't because we looked the other way in embarrassment and were afraid to try, but it will be because we've given 'us' a goodly perusal and have chosen not to take that step.

Oh, but Charlie, I do so want to take that leap.

I can hardly believe that in less than a week I'll be seeing you. May I confess that I've already begun to pack? Do you prefer blue or pink?

Until Monday I shall dream of you.

Yours,

Hermione

P.S. I forgot to mention Prague - I haven't owled Viktor, simply because I'm beginning to think I want you all to myself, if you have no objections. We can always decide differently once I get there, and I can owl him from Bucharest. I do think you'd like him; like you, he's one of the few who listen. He and Magda have been after me to accept one of their invitations for a couple of years.

P.P.S. Ginny and Harry have just dropped by for dinner, bringing little James along. He's trying to talk, and I can't understand a single thing out of his mouth - Ginny babbles as if he's the most scintillating conversationalist she's ever met, and I suppose to her he is. Harry just gloats and watches them with greedy eyes. It does my heart good to see him so happy. He deserves it more than anyone I know.

I haven't told either of them where I'm going on holiday, but they stopped asking when I told them Mum and Dad could reach me. And I particularly love the little dragon on the stationery. It's rather cute when it flames, but I worry about whether it'll scorch the ink. No I did not tell Ginny. There's nothing wrong with her brain, and she'd put the clues together instantly. We'd have to fly to China to find any peace and quiet.

P.P.P.S. Dearest Charlie, what makes you think you'll be able to see the tattoo even if I wear a bikini?

Darling Charlie,

First things first, you don't have to consider an Emergency Portkey or to worry about whether it's eleven London or Bucharest time, because I'm already here.

I came a day early because I thought it might be prudent to ward the apartment (Fidelius and Unplottable) against any of our overly enthusiastic family (cough, cough . . . George . . . cough, cough) or friends (Harry.) Be grateful you live an owl's length away because in the past few days I have become rather more popular than I've ever been (excepting just after the Battle for Hogwarts, or any time that evil toad Umbridge's eye fell upon me.)

Your dad has been great, and I suspect your mum is the only member of my acquaintance who does not know where I'm going on holiday or with whom I will be sharing it. I must say I'm a little affronted Meg Croaker approached your dad, but I'm also really touched that she cares. Against all of my assurances to the contrary, Baden has taught me a little jinx in case you 'trifle with my affections.' He's the dearest curmudgeon on earth and a bit protective. I imagine if Professor Snape had survived he might have become a bit like Baden Nott (brilliant, acerbic, and terribly, terribly sensitive.)

Did you really have to take your Potions OWL a second time? Don't be alarmed, I know you, and your academic record (brilliant or otherwise,) has nothing to do with the wizard you are today. You are the same man who steals my breath with your earnest eloquence and sets my heart to pounding so hard I cannot hear anything but the beat of my own desires and hopes for the future.

Over the past two days, I've seen George, Percy, Ginny, your dad, Harry and Ron, and Fleur! I briefly wondered if I should just hold one of them hostage and send invitations out to the rest. Fleur let me know, in her Gallic way, that she hadn't become a Triwizard champion because she excelled in Domestic Charms. Ginny plans on challenging me to a duel if I hurt you (did you know you're the dearest of her brothers and the one with the most common sense?), and I had to remove four monitoring devices from my trunk after George left my flat.

Thank Merlin's pants! Harry was there to balance Ron's reaction. He arrived about ten seconds into Ron's diatribe (which is all the better left unrepeated,) and told Ron that my love life was my own business, and that he had forfeited his rights to comment the day he walked away from me. I don't know if I've ever loved Harry more than at that moment. Ron's ears turned red and he stalked about the flat for a few minutes before simply telling me he cared and didn't want to see me hurt.

I don't want to see me hurt either, and I told him (them) that it's my choice -- our choice, Charlie, -- and that we will decide where our future lies, and whether we have one (and with each breath I take, I believe there is one and we just have to work out the details, like which side of the bed you prefer . . . I'm rather partial to the idea you've presented, and I'll sleep atop you!)

Honestly, if you were to decide you didn't want to spend your life with me, I know you well enough to know you wouldn't take a Portkey to Italy two days before the wedding without telling anyone - especially your bride! Honestly, doesn't Ron know you at all? As I said before, I know you, and I trust you.

At least the boys arrived before Ginny's visit. Apparently she'd left James with your mum, and . . . er . . . Charlie, I have a very strong feeling I know exactly what started our entire correspondence. Ginny brought me a book she found at The Burrow (and filched it without your mum's knowledge,) the cover art of which bore a strong resemblance to a broad-shouldered back I recognised instantly. I suspect I know exactly what With Soaring Wings is about. I haven't read it yet, because I, too, fantasize about it being you reading it aloud. I imagine us lying together on a divan, transfigured to make room for both of us. Although the fire crackles in front of us, it's your body, curled about mine, which generates most of the heat while I listen to you read . . . even the more titillating parts. Oh, my, is it warm in here?

Let me tell you what I'd do first

Erm . . . I ran out of ink. Really, I did! You should see my blush!

If you had appeared in my office, you wouldn't have needed to carry me off; I'd have run to you! Please trust me that the words you've inked on the page have had an equal impact on me. I've read your last letter through at least a dozen times -- running my fingers over certain phrases - until I know it by heart. I'm not sure I'll be able to welcome you without leaping into your arms straight away.

I've spent much of the last fortnight thinking about you, and about us, and I've worried a bit - a concern Harry raised as well - about the ease and speed of our transition from friends to something more (a lot more in my mind.) I suspect we could look at the last few years as the early stages of dating. While other people would have to go through the process of learning about one another's lives and meeting the family and finding out whether they have similar likes and dislikes . . . we already know! I adore your family, and I know my parents have always liked you; I know that your favourite colour is turquoise (although you hide that fact by wearing other shades of blue,) and that you tend to add more spice to your food than most people like (you're quite right. Ron is a wuss about spicy food. You should have seen him the one and only time I was able to drag him into an Indian restaurant, although he did like the mango lassi.) I know you wear reading glasses when you're very tired, and that you tend to crack your knuckles when you get anxious.

We don't have to play the same courtship dance others engage in, because we're already halfway there.

Your intention not to explore the physical side - too much - merely proves to me that you are the man I know and admire and have increasingly strong feelings for.

One of the reasons I never pursued my attraction to Viktor was what Ginny called his GU (geographic undesirability,) and by the time I got over the break up with Ron, and realised that the distance was no longer an issue, Viktor had met Magda. While I'm thrilled and deeply touched that you've begun to think about the logistics involved in having a long-distance relationship - our relationship - let me address this issue. Without going beyond the bounds of Unspeakable confidentiality, it's only necessary for me to be within Apparating distance of any Ministry of Magic in order to report to work. The time lag takes a bit of adjustment, but I understand from several of my colleagues it only takes a couple of weeks to sort itself out.

So, darling Charlie, set your mind at ease on this score at least.

I see your point about holding back on a physical level in order to protect ourselves from being deeply hurt if what we're beginning to hope for doesn't come to fruition. May I confess something? It's already too late for me. If we choose to remain friends, I will be hurt because I can so easily see a future for us - it's almost as clear as the view from the balcony or the gentle sound of the river flowing several storeys below me.

Charlie, I badly want to grab hold of that future and share every day of it with you, whether it means I drape myself across your chest while sleeping in your single bed at the reserve, or we sprawl willy-nilly across the apartment's king-sized mattress, or we explore every cosy nook of my Regent's Park adjacent walk up.

I want to hear you purr, Charlie - I want to be the one to make you purr!

I'm terrified of scaring you off with my eagerness, and yet, I feel more certain of what we might already have grown between us than I have about anything in my life - except knowing I was different from all the kids around me as a young girl.

While I'm being blunt - which Ron tells me is my greatest fault - I should forewarn you I might be a bit impetuous where the physical side of things are concerned. You're so very, very tempting, and I've been . . . er . . . celibate for a quite a while. For a short time after Ron left, I explored my options a bit - I think I needed to know I wasn't a troll - but a shag against the wall of a pub with some nameless wizard just isn't my style. To finish off the brutally honest bit, it would be irresponsible of me not to tell you I've done all the appropriate tests, and I'm perfectly healthy and safe.

As I write this sentence, I can feel what Ginny calls my siren smile curving my lips; it seems to happen whenever I think of you, and that, my friend, seems to be incessantly.

Everything you've written emboldens me to think beyond our letters - which I shall cherish always - to the reality of seeing you . . . here . . . with me. Where we can touch, and talk, and cook . . . and explore one another to our hearts' and my curiosity's content.

My much-loved and gravy-stained copy of Jamie Oliver's Naked Chef is holding the corners of my parchment down while I write, and I'm eager to share my favourite recipes with you. I've filled the small 'fridge with the basics, holding off the real shopping until you can come with me, but I'm already planning a little frittata for breakfast. It'll bake while I put together a batch of scones (I remember you don't like currants in yours - neither do I) and I've brought some clotted cream with me as well.

If you'd like to listen, I'm more than willing to tell you about my wartime experiences. I know we've never spoken of it, and your assurances have truly put my mind at rest, but there is a part of me which demands full disclosure, and I want to know that I'm not lessened in your eyes when I actually tell you about hexing Harry to disfigure him (hoping to hide his identity) just before we were captured by Greyback. Although I'm not sure I can - even still -- talk coherently about getting a face-full of the Malfoys' carpet while Bellatrix Lestrange used me for Cruciatus practice, but for you, I shall make the effort.

You didn't sit out the whole campaign. You pretend I don't know that you were heading the security of the Eastern Bloc reserves . . . and thwarted several attempts by the Death Eaters to capture dragons for the fight. I know where that wound on your thigh came from Charlie - I have a matching one on my chest.

Oh, dear.

You've never seen me in a bathing suit, have you? Here is a picture of my last trip with my parents.



The picture was taken in Belize and has the benefit of showing you my blue bikini (and you'll notice there isn't a tattoo in sight.) But that's not the point. You probably know I was hurt at the end of my fifth year at school when we fought Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries. Dolohov cursed me, and I have a rather large scar across my chest (you can see it in the picture). It's not terribly pretty, and I suppose I should tell you that you're getting 'damaged goods' as Adrian Pucey called me on our one and only date.

It isn't often I'm insecure, and there are very few people who have that power to so unsettle me, but I'll confess that with one quick sentence you could shatter my heart. Just knowing that's a bit frightening. Is this what you meant when you said I'd wrapped you around my little finger? If so, then I understand all too well.

Yet without any risk there can be no gain, and I'm reminded how much we have to gain: everything!

I've just re-read what you wrote about not refusing me if what I want is you. Charlie, that is exactly what I want.

You.

Just you.

The longer I make this letter, the longer it keeps you from me, and I'm afraid I cannot wait any longer.

I want to start our life together - wherever it may lead and for however long we might last.

I want to start it now.

You'll need the Fidelius password, which is customised to you and me only. Say 'Leap of Faith' and you can find me in our little hideaway.

Holding my breath,

Hermione