What happens if Hermione Granger is sent to work on ministry work in Romania? And what happens if she just so happens to stay with her fiancées older brother, Charlie Weasley?
Well you'll find out if you read this charmione fanfiction "The Fire of...
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Hermione stretched her legs as her mind switched from dreams to being awake. Her skull had a piercing pain, her throat was insatiably dry. But before she could rise to search for a glass of water, which is what she craved, she froze.
Her eyes flicked open in fear, starring directly at a set of pectoral muscles.
'Right' she thought, her eyebrows raised in confused surprise.
She glanced upwards to notice a stubbled jaw and a set of auburn curls. 'Alright'
She attempted to pull away from the entrapment she was intertwined with. It was a feat of great effort, rolling her body out from under his one arm that rested on top of her waist. With one more tug she was free.
It was a success, he still slept soundly. But as one accomplishment was achieved, her mind spiraled into utter horror. She was stark naked. Being a witch in her twenties, she knew that didn't amount to nothing.
She waved her wand so that a fresh dress flew from her trunk and onto her. It was a bit formal, something she'd wear to a meeting in London. But alas it was something.
She paid one more glance at his sleeping figure before stepping out into the morning air.
Along the route to the dining hall a man was yelling out news sources. "Romanian Roar, Swedish Articles, The Daily Prophet, MACUSA Times" he spotted her. "Ehhh lass, care for a paper?"
"Daily Prophet, thank you". She nodded, exchanging her Romanian currency for the paper.
Entering the dining hall, first spotting the crew of dragon tamers she adverted her path towards the bar.
"Coffee Miss?" Flyer sat down beside her, as the bartender pulled out a mug.
"Actually, is there a place for a spot of tea?"
Flyer nodded to his right. "Just down in the village there is a tea emporium."
Hermione gave a thank you, and ventured on her way for the first time onto the village street. The road was cobbled and looked like a more quaint and ancient version of Diagon Alley. The storefronts had a different architecture, but the magic was still evident In the way the air hummed.
Hermione entered the cozy tea emporium, immediately noticing the bright colors of purple. Pillows, drapes, bar stools were all covered in the color. It was packed to a degree, a few ladies sitting at a table, some in individual arm chairs nose pressed in a book.
And then, Hermione immediately noticed the gossip quiet, and the heads shift to land upon her. She gave a feeble smile.
She advanced into the room approaching the counter, and the whispers picked up, gossip resuming as normal. Perhaps the gossip was now about her.
Behind the bar was a fascinatingly beuutiful witch, with bright blue eyes and long flowing white hair. Her dress was a periwinkle that highlighted her slim waist with a corset.
