Shy little Eloise Moreau found herself the proud owner of Ollivanders after his death in the war. Now she's left to cope with the loss of her mentor while attempting to run a business.
When Charlie Weasley drops by one day in hopes of buying a new w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Since that night, Eloise found herself spending what little free time she had with her new friend. Which is how she wound up headed to the Leaky Cauldron to meet Charlie for the fourth Friday night in a row. The past few times they met up had been much more light hearted than the first occasion, and they had discussed Charlie's family, dragons, wandmaking, and their Hogwarts days among other things.
"Sorry I'm late," she told him breathlessly as she slid into the booth across from him.
"It's no problem," he grinned widely at her, and she was forced yet again to ignore just how handsome he was. She had done a relatively good job of pushing her attraction aside and conversing with him normally, but occasionally, when he smiled like that, she could feel her face heating up rapidly.
She quickly turned to the waitress as she approached, letting her hair act as a curtain to hide behind as she muttered, "Whatever he's having is fine, thanks," to the woman, who raised her eyebrow at Eloise and sauntered off.
She turned back to face him, and found him grinning charmingly at her. She focused on the spot behind his head, deciding that this would be a good coping mechanism.
"So how was your day?" she asked him, voice slightly higher pitched than usual.
"I got stuck de-gnoming the garden earlier, so I'm sure you can imagine," he laughed, sipping at his drink.
"That sounds like a fun time," she joked. "Did your mum make you do that?"
"Of course. That woman can be right scary when she wants to be."
The waitress delivered her drink to the table and Eloise realized why the waitress had given her a look earlier. She really wasn't a firewhiskey type of girl, but she also didn't want to send the drink back, knowing she would probably look dumb.
She hesitantly took a sip and began coughing like mad, cringing at the burning sensation of the liquid going down her throat and leaving a trail of fire.
Charlie burst into rambunctious laughter at the sight before him. "I didn't know you like firewhiskey," he chortled.
"I don't," she stammered, before taking another tentative sip. In a smaller amount, it burned way less and she was able to refrain from coughing.
Charlie's laughter died down and he allowed the subject to pass. "How about your day? Or week, I suppose?"
"Busy," she explained, "But not so bad. First years have started coming in, which is always very exciting for everyone involved."
"Ah, yes, I remember that day. I accidently set Ollivander's hair on fire," Charlie reminisced.
"I only broke a vase, so you win," she giggled. "I'm not really sure why we keep such fragile items out there."
"For the excitement, of course!" he quipped.
"Yes, I suppose. It always leaves such a mess, though..." She took another draught of her firewhiskey.
"Oh, I saw this book while I was in Hogsmeade a few days ago, I meant to mention to you," he said. "About various wand cores, I can't recall the title!"
"Charlie, you know I have thousands of books on wandlore, right?" she teased.
"Yes, but this one was about using elements from the sea, and it was a limited edition book from the 1800s. It looked like something you would like," he defended himself.
"You're right, that does sound quite interesting," she said. "Let me know if you think of it, I'd love to check it out."
~
The evening went on pleasantly, and they chatted about their lives and inconsequential things that made each other laugh and never let it get too serious. Charlie didn't even realize that something was very wrong until he felt Eloise's foot grazing his own. He respectfully moved his own away, thinking that he had invaded her space, but when he felt her bare foot again, slowly inching up his calf, he found himself wondering what was happening. He noted that she was indeed almost finished with her third drink, and her eyes were glazed over.
"I think it's time we head home," Charlie sighed, glancing at the clock at realizing that it was half past eleven, which was much later than they usually stayed out.
"Aw, really?" Eloise pouted, and he marvelled at the fact that her voice was hardly slurring. Surely if she was drunk enough to be flirting with him, her voice wouldn't be so clear? Or maybe Charlie just hadn't noticed because he had hoped that her increasing flirtiness throughout the night was her own will, not the firewhiskey talking. Either way, he really needed to get her home.
He stood up, letting her small foot drop to the floor, and waited for her to join him. She did, wobbling a bit before grabbing onto his arm for support. Charlie felt himself blush at the girl's proximity. He escorted her out of the pub and down Diagon Alley back to Ollivanders, where he knew she resided.
She giggled as he searched her jacket pocket for her key after she refused to hand it over, and Charlie felt himself growing more and more flustered. He finally produced the key, only to have it snatched out of his hand by the petite girl, who twisted around clutching it closely to her while laughing loudly as he tried to take it back.
"Nooo, Charlie!" she chimed, holding it high above her head. Thankfully, high above her head meant a few inches above Charlie's, and he was able to grab it back by wrapping one arm around her and holding her still while grabbing the key with the other hand.
"Come on, Eloise," Charlie whispered, trying to be mindful of her neighbors. He helped her inside and locked the door, deciding that he wasn't sober enough to apparate back and that using her floo would be a much better option,
When they reached the stairs, one stumble was enough for Charlie to figure out that she couldn't climb the steps, so he scooped her up and carried her.
He reached the second floor and began unlocking it when he was stilled by Eloise nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck and mumbling, "Third floor, Charlie."
After he took a moment to recollect himself, he carried her up the remaining flight and unlocked the door to her apartment, where he was somewhat surprised to see how messy it was. There was a fine layer of dust over most everything, and he could see the dishes and takeout containers stacked in the kitchen. There was a heap of pillows and blankets on the couch, tons of books scattered about, and as he took her to what he assumed was the bedroom, he saw multiple baskets of laundry that needed to be done.
"Sorry about the mess," she whispered, her breath tickling the sensitive skin below his ear.
"It's fine, Eloise. I'm going to lay you down, okay?"
"Okay!" She exclaimed, much louder than before. He gently dropped her down onto her unmade bed, reaching down to take her shoes off and pulling the quilt over her. As he did so, she reached up and locked her arms around his neck, pulling him down so that he was halfway on the bed, bracing himself over her.
"Are you going to stay with me?" she asked him quietly.
"I don't think you want me to do that, love," he gulped, mind fuzzy.
"I do!" she beamed, smiling up at him as he hovered over her.
"Goodnight, Eloise," he chuckled, pressing a feathery light kiss to her forehead and unravelling her arms from around his neck. He ducked out of the room before she could convince him not to go.
Instead of flooing away, like he had told himself that he would, Charlie collapsed on the sofa, covering himself up with one of the many cozy blankets, and promptly fell asleep.
