The Love Letters - 1/1 - Adult - Charlie/Hermione
Title: The Love Letters (1/1)
Author: 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: Charlie tries to put his thoughts down on paper. Unfortunately, he's not having much luck. Charlie/Hermione.
Word Count: 773.

Balls of parchment littered the floor of Charlie's bedroom at the Burrow. He'd been living there for nearly three weeks while he tried to find a place of his own and was growing steadily more infuriated with the small house, mainly due to one particular inhabitant.

Hermione Granger.

A swotty, prissy, little know-it-all who had got right under his skin and who was threatening to drive him insane. A gorgeous, witty, intelligent woman who he simply wanted to snog senseless. It simply wasn't fair, especially as she thought of him as a brother.

Brothers did not think of their sisters in the way that Charlie thought of Hermione. He liked to think that he had a particularly good imagination, and this had been fuelled upon his discovery of one of Hermione's more adult - illustrated - books. The thought that she read this sort of material had meant that he was unable to look her in the face for three days straight.

His imagination was failing him now, however. He'd been trying to write a letter or a poem or something to tell her how he felt, because he knew he'd never be able to talk to her without stammering or stuttering or ending up like a complete fool. Yes, the written word was definitely the way to go.

Charlie let out a growl of frustration, screwing up another attempt and tossing it with the others. This wasn't going to plan. He was supposed to be witty and eloquent and charming, and he was supposed to get further than 'Hermione, I think'.

Actually, once, he had got as far as 'Hermione, I think you've got nice tits', but he didn't think that that would go down very well.

"Charlie!" Ron was yelling from downstairs. "Can you give me a hand for a moment?"

"Yeah." Charlie stood up, stretching his legs. Ron had been de-gnoming the garden and it seemed like he was having a bit of trouble on his own. Besides, a bit of fresh air would be good to get the creative juices flowing again.

Ten minutes later, Charlie returned to his room, nursing a sore shoulder %u2013 he'd flung a total of fifteen gnomes which, while being a good stress-relief, had left his muscles aching. At least he hadn't got bitten like Ron.

He stopped short. Stood by his desk was Hermione, a sheaf of uncrumpled parchment in her hands. She looked at him, eyes wide and a blush creeping onto her cheeks. A few of Charlie's attempts drifted to the floor. "What are you doing in my room?" he demanded.

"I was looking for you. I wanted to ask a question about Antipodean Opaleyes." She stopped, biting her lip. Hermione waved the parchment at him. "Is this true?"

"Which bit?" he asked nervously.

"All of it."

"Oh." He could feel himself blushing. "Um. Yes. Yes, yes it would." And here came the aforementioned stammering and stuttering.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked, sounding exasperated.

"I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head. "Wait." Charlie looked up sharply. "What?"

She rolled her eyes, dropping the other pieces of parchment to the floor. "You're an idiot, you know that? I mean, I thought Harry and Ron were dense, but I've been playing footsie with you the last three nights at dinner and you haven't even noticed!"

Charlie gasped. "I thought that was Crookshanks!"

"Crookshanks! Of course it wasn't Crookshanks! God! I practically gave you a footjob the other night and you thought it was Crookshanks?"

"Well, your cat's always been rather friendly."

Charlie quickly closed the door behind him. He didn't exactly want anyone else overhearing this conversation. "You mean you like me?"

She sighed, taking a step forward. "I've been flirting with you. Did you really think it was an accident that I spilt that wine over your trousers and offered to dry your lap? I was thinking that I was going to have to resort to wearing a t-shirt with 'Fuck me, Charlie' written across the front!"

Hermione grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a searing kiss. His hand clutched at her hair, desperate for more contact. She pulled back, grinning. "So, yes. In conclusion, I like you."

"So I don't have to finish my letter, then?"

"No," she agreed. "Although I'd be quite interested to see how you were going to carry on from 'Hermione, I think you've got nice tits'."

His hand slid up from where it was resting on her hip, lightly cupping her breast. "Or maybe I could just show you."

"Now, why didn't I think of that?"