{"id":38,"date":"2011-10-03T13:43:07","date_gmt":"2011-10-03T03:43:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.avada-kedavra.net\/hermione\/charlie\/?p=38"},"modified":"2011-10-03T13:43:07","modified_gmt":"2011-10-03T03:43:07","slug":"old-excuses-by-silvernatasha","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.avada-kedavra.net\/hermione\/charlie\/rec\/38","title":{"rendered":"Old Excuses by silvernatasha"},"content":{"rendered":"

Old Excuses – 1\/1 – All Ages – Charlie\/Hermione<\/strong><\/em><\/span>
\nTitle:<\/strong> Old Excuses (1\/1)
\nAuthor:<\/strong> \"[info]\"<\/a>silvernatasha<\/strong><\/a>
\nRating:<\/strong> All Ages
\nDisclaimer:<\/strong> 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.
\nSummary:<\/strong> The excuses are starting to get old. Charlie\/Hermione.
\nWord Count:<\/strong> 672.
\nA\/N:<\/strong> Written for \"[info]\"<\/a>books_freckles<\/strong><\/a> weekly challenge #17: something old.<\/p>\n

<\/a>Sometimes it was hard to tell what was part of the original house and what had been added to it. The Burrow was undeniably old, though, the first part of it probably Victorian.<\/p>\n

Charlie ushered the hens back into their coop with large, sweeping movements of his arms; sometimes it was easier to direct dragons than chickens. He shut the gate, leaning heavily on the rusty latch to make it close. One of the chickens squawked at him and he frowned, running a hand through his hair.<\/p>\n

Why had he agreed to look after the house while his parents went on holiday? To ‘look after’ the house essentially meant ‘stop it from falling apart’, although Charlie had a feeling that the house would outlast any of them.<\/p>\n

He heard someone Apparate behind him and he turned. It was early evening and the setting sun cast a warm glow over the newcomer, turning her brown curls auburn. “Evening, Charlie.”<\/p>\n

“Hermione? What are you doing here?” He ran his hand through his hair again, although this time in an attempt to flatten it.<\/p>\n

“Molly asked me to water the plants.” She held up a bag, smiling a little nervously. “I bought you dinner, too.” Hermione brushed past Charlie as she walked to the front door.<\/p>\n

Charlie checked the latch on the hencoop before following her into The Burrow. “If I’m looking after the house this week, why did she ask you<\/em> to water the plants?”<\/p>\n

Setting the bag down on the kitchen table, Hermione peered inside it. “Because,” she said, “your mum said that you’ll look after the chickens and the cat and anything else with a pulse, but you’ll forget the plants.” She looked up, grinning at him as she tucked a curl behind her ear. “Dinner was my idea.”<\/p>\n

Charlie felt a little embarrassed, and not about the plant remark. “Are you still angry with me for cancelling dinner last month?”<\/p>\n

Hermione prodded the stove with her wand. “A little.” She opened the cupboard, searching for a saucepan. “I was really looking forward to it,” she added softly. She set the saucepan on the hob after filling it with water. Charlie shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortable.<\/p>\n

Needing something to do with his hands, Charlie pulled open the cutlery drawer, intent on setting the table. “I’m sorry.”<\/p>\n

“I got that owl,” Hermione agreed, opening a packet of pasta. “You didn’t mention anything about rescheduling, though. The excuses are starting to get old.”<\/p>\n

“Didn’t know if I’d have time to.”<\/p>\n

Hermione bowed her head, concentrating on adding the pasta to the water. “And you didn’t consider trying to make<\/em> time?” She sighed. “Charlie, if you didn’t want to go out with me, you could’ve just said.”<\/p>\n

“I did!” he protested, throwing a fork down on the table. “Don’t sound so bloody martyred. Not my fault a Welsh Green decided to get loose. Next time I’ll ask the dragons to arrange their maiming for some other time, shall I?”<\/p>\n

Hermione glared at him, brandishing a wooden spoon. “Don’t<\/em> get sarky with me, Charlie Weasley.”<\/p>\n

“Well, don’t get angry with me for things that I couldn’t control.”<\/p>\n

They entered into something resembling a staring contest, both refusing to look away; the saucepan threatened to boil over. Hermione ignored it.<\/p>\n

Finally, Charlie said, “Mum didn’t ask you to water the plants.”<\/p>\n

“What makes you say that?” Hermione turned away from him, flicking her wand at the furiously boiling saucepan.<\/p>\n

“Because you hate cooking.” He paused, twitching a fork into place. “And I’ve already watered the plants.”<\/p>\n

Hermione carefully laid down the spoon she was holding. The pasta was simmering away gently. She didn’t say anything, reaching for the jar of sauce that she had brought with her.<\/p>\n

“Do you want me to make the first move?” Charlie asked quietly. She nodded almost imperceptibly. “Okay, then.”<\/p>\n

His hand clasped around her elbow, the wool of her jumper soft beneath his touch. “No more excuses,” he murmured before kissing her softly. Excuses just got old.<\/p>\n\n\n

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