Written for @hpadventprompts - day 19, "Snowfall at the Burrow."
Charlie/Hermione | Rated T | holiday fluff | 786 WC
As ice cracked beneath her feet, Hermione scowled. How just like the rainy season to take a downward turn now, transforming the puddles and mud into ice patches that were determined to end her.
She glanced back at the Burrow, light spilling outward from frosted windows and the column of smoke winding from chimney to sky. The wisp vanished into the heavy clouds. She'd much rather stay inside where it was warm.
"Hermione, come on!" Ron's voice called impatiently from ahead, just out of sight past the treeline.
"I'm coming! Go on without me," she shouted back.
It wasn't as if she was mounting up on a broom along with him. The last thing she wanted to do was get buffeted by the biting wind already whipping the curls sticking out beneath her bonnet every which way and that. How the Weasleys could stand playing Quidditch in this weather was beyond her understanding, but it was a tradition they looked forward to every single holiday.
When she finally stepped out of the woods and into the clearing, she immediately ducked as a Bludger went flying directly overhead.
"You alright there, Hermione?"
"Perfectly alright!" she said with a wave.
Fred grinned, flipped his bat, then spun around on his broom to return to the others.
She could see Ron's bag on the ground, where he'd likely dropped it in his hurry. Sighing, she walked over to move it to her usual spot. The oak's trunk was wide enough for her to spread out a blanket and lean against. Squinting up at the figures on their brooms one last time, she turned her attention to the book she'd brought to pass the time. New, the spine still stiff. She sighed happily at the creaking sound as she opened it.
With a shriek, the book went flying. Just as quickly, an arm snagged it before it could hit the ground. Charlie stood before her, having somehow approached without her noticing him.
Hermione scrambled to her feet, cheeks hot and not sure where to look first: his eyes, crinkled at the corners and dancing with humour; the broad chest and shoulders absolutely perfect for cuddling on a cosy couch; the auburn curls that, like hers, spilled out from the edges of his cap; or the smile stretching across a freckled face she could draw from memory.
She settled for the gloved hand holding her book.
"I, um, I've been wanting to start…"
She was babbling, still avoiding his eyes. She was babbling, and she didn't know how to stop.
"…and Ron, he said I should get some fresh air, which, um, is probably true—"
She broke off in surprise and finally looked up. He was still smiling, but now the ginger lashes framing his eyes were dusted white from the snowfall that had started without her realising it.
"Do you want to be out here?" he asked. "You don't have to do whatever my brother suggests if you don't actually want to, you know. Even if you were dating—"
"We're not," she quickly said.
"You're not," he agreed, "but if you were, you still wouldn't have to."
The snow fell more thickly. He joined her beneath the canopy, carefully handing back her book.
"I know. It's just…habit." Admitting to why she continued to go along with Harry and Ron felt oddly releasing. Nobody else had ever questioned why she followed them around. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be seen as herself, rather than as part of a trio.
"Do you want to hear a secret?" he asked, his smile turning sly. Her breath caught. Charlie ducked closer, shrinking the distance between them and bringing with him a dizzying scent of pine.
"What?" Hermione couldn't help leaning towards him.
"Mum's mulling cider. I was going to head back early to get some before the others hog it all. The game won't last much longer with this snow. Want to come with me?" He winked, jerking his head towards the Burrow, and Hermione felt a delicious curl of warmth building in her chest.
She didn't have to think about her answer.
"Let's go before they notice."
Hermione's laugh joined his own, coming as naturally to her as grabbing onto his offered hand. They ran out from beneath the tree and into the open. When she slipped, his hold steadied her. When she stumbled, arms caught her before she could fall. And, when they finally reached the covered doorway, their eyes held as he helped brush the snow off, hands lingering on her a tad longer than she thought necessary.
Perhaps the cold wasn't so bad, after all.
