A Hard Man is Good to Find - 1/1 - Adult - Charlie/Hermione
Title: A Hard Man is Good to Find (1/1)
Authors: silvernatasha
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: During mating season, the pheromones that the dragons used to attract a mate also affected the humans around them. Charlie/Hermione.
Word Count: 2120.

There was clearly a reason why Harry and Ron had warned Charlie not to let Hermione drink too much firewhisky. The bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky was getting dangerously low now and, while Charlie was just feeling a bit of a warm buzz, Hermione hard started getting a little giggly. And talkative. Very talkative.

Sober, Hermione was chatty and articulate, although she knew when to stop. When Hermione had been drinking, however, she could talk for England, about anything and everything, from books to politics and even Quidditch if she’d had enough alcohol. Hermione had always maintained that she wasn’t particularly fond of the sport. However, considering the way that she had earlier been extolling the virtues of the Kenmare Kestrels’ performance during the last season, she followed it a lot more closely than she was willing to admit.

When Hermione poured herself another glass, Charlie took it upon himself to tug the bottle from her hand, something that didn’t really require a lot of strength as it slipped easily from her fingers. “I think you’ve probably had enough,” he said gently, trying not to grin at the rather bemused look she gave him.

Hermione had only been at the dragon reserve for two weeks, arriving just in time for the mating season after declaring that the office job she had held at the Ministry for the last two years was driving her batty. Her choice in career change had certainly raised a few eyebrows, but Hermione had thrown herself into her research, revelling in the chance to be learning and studying again. There was never a dull moment on the reserve, either, so no-one had much chance to just sit back and brood over the past.

“Probably,” Hermione agreed. She licked her lips and straightened up, shaking her head as if to try to relieve herself of her drunkenness.

There was a perfectly valid reason for them being up at two in the morning, sitting on Charlie’s rickety old bed and drinking firewhisky, and it wasn’t just because they were both scheduled for a day off. When dragons mated, it wasn’t exactly quiet business. The sound of ‘dragons singing in the night’, as the reserve’s somewhat prudish herbologist called it, was enough to give someone insomnia for a week.

“Fucking horny dragons,” Charlie grumbled as he heard a roar from a dragon, although it had to be about a mile away from the campsite.

Hermione laughed, giggling into her glass. “Yes,” she agreed, unable to keep a straight face.

Charlie grinned, noticing the flush on her cheeks. It would have been adorable or funny, really, if he hadn’t found it sexy as hell and started thinking about other ways in which he could make her blush. That made him feel guilty, too - she was his colleague and his friend, not to mention his younger brother’s ex, so he simply wasn’t supposed to be having lewd thoughts about her, no matter how attractive she was.

She tugged on the collar of her pyjamas, a pair that Charlie was sure had once belonged to Harry or Ron as both the legs and sleeves were rolled up as they were too long. “Is it just me,” Hermione started, “or is everyone horny as fuck at the moment?” Apparently, alcohol also lowered her inhibitions; she would normally scold anyone for talking like that.

Charlie’s eyes widened. His cock wanted to wake up when he heard Hermione say that, never really having imagined Hermione Granger using the words ‘horny’ or ‘fuck’, let alone in the same sentence. That was a lie. He had imagined her saying those things, as well as other lewd obscenities as he fucked her hard and deep into the mattress as she writhed in pleasure beneath him.

Ahem.

“It’s, er, well, um,” Charlie stumbled over his words. Charlie wasn’t the most articulate of wizards, even without a few glasses of whisky in his system. Having Hermione ask if everyone was horny - he had to imagine that she included herself in the statement, something that he was sure he would be better off not imagining - had thrown him. “It’s the dragons’ mating season. Pheromones.”

“Pheromones,” Hermione repeated softly, nodding. “Okay.” She licked her lips again and Charlie found his eyes focused on that little glimpse of her tongue.

During mating season, the pheromones that the dragons used to attract a mate also affected the humans around them. The effect was stronger the more time that you spent around them, although after a couple of seasons you tended to be able to ignore the near-constant throb of need or the way your cock was permanently half-hard. Being around someone like Hermione who had never experienced this before, however, was affecting Charlie a little more strongly.

It didn’t help that he was hopelessly attracted to her, he thought vaguely as his gaze drifted down from her lips to her chest - even through the material of her pyjamas, he could tell that her nipples were hard and that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Charlie swallowed, shifting on the bed before finally flopping onto his stomach in a bid to conceal his growing erection.

“Has anyone ever done any research into the affect of dragon pheromones on humans?” Hermione asked, and Charlie was glad that she’d changed the subject to work, albeit it only slightly.

“Not for a couple of decades,” he told her after a moment’s thought. “I might have a book on the subject, if you want it.”

She nodded, her cheeks pink. “Thanks,” she said, sounding breathless to Charlie’s ears. “I might look into it.” Her fingers toyed idly with the top button of her pyjamas; Charlie bit his lip as it came undone, revealing lightly tanned skin beneath.

“Of course,” Hermione continued, “if I was going to study the effect of pheromones, I would have to study humans as well as the dragons.” Her fingers went down to the next button. “Conduct interviews and that sort of thing. Male and female. Have to see if it affects different genders in different ways. Do you think there’s any practical investigations I could conduct? I mean, do you know of any ways in which to measure the level of someone’s arousal? Because surely different people would have different reactions.”

Charlie swallowed, reaching quickly for the bottle of firewhisky and slugging back a mouthful. He spluttered slightly at the impact of the alcohol.

“And, of course,” Hermione continued, “you’d have to take other stimuli into account, too. Mental things. Images. Surroundings. Other people. We’d have to see what people were like before the affect of the pheromones, too.”

“You should really stop that, Hermione,” Charlie warned roughly. He had only ever had a girlfriend on the reserve once during the mating season, vowing never to let that happen again after that. Charlie wasn’t the most gentle of lovers normally, something that he was never particularly apologetic about. With the added help of the pheromones affecting them both, though, the result had been somewhat explosive.

She peered curiously down at him as the second button popped open, revealing even more skin. “Stop what?” she asked.

“That,” Charlie said in a fierce growl.

Hermione looked down at herself, to where she had already undone the third button of her top, then back at Charlie. “Are you aroused?” she asked, sounding horribly scientific about it, despite the slight slur to her words.

Charlie’s cheeks turned red and he nodded gruffly.

“Me, too,” Hermione agreed. “I mean, look at this.” She quickly pulled off her top, throwing it to the floor. Hermione’s hands cupped her breasts. “I don’t think my nipples have ever been this hard.” Her thumbs ran over the hard nubs, making her groan softly. “I’ve been trying not to touch them all day.”

His mouth feeling suddenly dry, Charlie watched in amazement as Hermione started to play with her breasts. “Hermione,” he warned softly. “Stop that.”

“Mmmm?” She gave a slight whine as she pinched one of her nipples. “It feels good, Charlie.”

Charlie reached up, against his better judgement, pulling one of her hands away. His fingers grazed her breast, though, making Hermione groan and sending a shiver of arousal through him. “Hermione,” he told her as sternly as he could with his erection pressing hard and needy into the mattress, “you wouldn’t be doing this in front of me if you were sober.”

Her back arched, an unspoken invitation for Charlie to touch her again. “Yes, I would.” She laughed slightly. “Just haven’t been brave enough to do it yet.”

“What?”

Hermione opened her eyes, looking clearly at Charlie. “If I would do this in front of just anyone, I wouldn’t have come to your tent tonight.”

He stared at her, trying to restrain himself as her hand trailed down her stomach, fingers dipping under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. A moment later, when Hermione gave a breathy moan, he scrambled up, lips finding hers in a messy kiss as he pinned her to the bed. His hands closed around her wrists, holding them above her head.

“You can still go,” he warned her in a low voice. “You can go back to your tent and wank off by yourself, Hermione. I won’t stop you. But if you’re going to do that then I won’t be held responsible for what I do.”

She glared at him and then lifted her head, kissing him again. “I could have gone anywhere in the world to study dragons, Charlie. Why do you think I chose here?”

Charlie faltered at this announcement. He’d always thought that it was because the reserve was a world-class research facility and only the best was good enough for Hermione Granger. If she were going to quit a cushy job at the Ministry of Magic to run around after dragons, it would have to be at the best place in the bloody world.

“Me,” he breathed in realisation.

“Fuck me,” was her response. She bucked her hips up towards him and Charlie couldn’t let go of her arms fast enough, wrenching down her pyjamas and the boxers he was wearing. With a grunt, Charlie thrust into her.

The bed creaked.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled beside her ear, holding back a groan at the feeling of her cunt surrounding him.

Hermione nodded weakly. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”

It was alcohol and pheromones and lust as they moved, deeper, harder, faster. There was a chance it would all be one big mistake in the morning, but if Hermione was being truthful, then this was all just the push they’d needed the tiny part of Charlie’s mind that was still coherent reasoned. With the feel of her body against his, Charlie was sure he must have been crazy for not making a move earlier. How long had he been attracted to her? Since he’d returned to Britain during the war, probably, but back then she’d been marked as Ron’s and everyone knew that.

Hermione’s fingers wound into his short red hair, tugging his head down for another kiss. His lips were hot against hers and Hermione felt like she could barely breathe. Her head was spinning as he thrust into her, the sensations she was feeling nearly too much to bear. Was it Charlie or the pheromones or both? As Charlie came, he let out a roar to rival any of the dragons.

She whimpered, feeling so close to the edge and definitely not expecting his fingers to find her clit. Hermione shuddered at the contact, biting her lip as he pushed her over the edge and nearly drawing blood.

Charlie’s lips brushed her cheek. “Should I have given you some firewhisky a long time ago?”

Hermione moaned slightly. “I poured most of it in your pot plant.”

“You’re not drunk?”

“Only a little.” She smiled and Charlie could already see that she was falling asleep as he pulled out of her, curling up against her side and looping his arm around her waist. “Just drunk enough,” she elaborated. Turning her head, Hermione kissed the nearest bit of skin she could manage. “Didn’t think it would take so long to get you into bed.”

Charlie frowned against her hair as he thought. It was Hermione who had come to his tent. It was Hermione who had supplied the bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky. The sneaky wench had planned this. “You seduced me!” he protested.

“Mmmm. Just a little bit.”

“A little bit? I think that was a pretty thorough shag just then.”

Her shoulders moved in a shrug. “Just wait until I’m not so tired,” she told him. “Then you’ll see a proper seduction.”