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...
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As it happened, Charlie did, in fact, have birthday plans. He held her hand the entire way to the local pub. He didn't even let go when they met up with his friends, or when Ivan scooped her up in a hug and attempted to swing her around. He held on when he ordered them drinks, when they drank and laughed with his fellow Dragonologists, and as they sang him Happy Birthday.
Eloise was going to have to learn to be left-handed, she supposed.
When they arrived back at his house, tipsy and content, he tugged her down on the sofa next to him and she was reminded of when she was there a few months prior, before she'd even realized her feelings. He'd held tightly to her hand then, too.
She never thought she'd be so accepting of a relationship so dependent on physical touch. She'd never liked when any of her exes had been touchy feely, especially in public. It was something about the way Charlie held onto her, like she was his lifeline.
Lost in these thoughts, she hadn't realized how close they'd gotten. Charlie had maneuvered her so that she was nearly in his lap, with her legs thrown over his and his other arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her breath caught when she noticed, but Charlie looked so at ease that she tried to keep it together. She could smell the firewhiskey on his breath, and she certainly wasn't sober, but still, Eloise didn't have the heart to move away from him. Even if this wasn't a good idea.
"Well? Where is it?" Charlie demanded, and she looked up at him, tilting her head to the side as she watched him.
"Where is what?"
"My present!" he exclaimed childishly, sending her into a fit of giggles. He managed to hold his pout until she stretched to rest her chin on his shoulder. Okay, yeah, definitely not sober. She tried to remember the last time they'd been close like this. Was it her birthday, when he'd kissed her cheek? No, don't think about that right now, she told herself.
"What present?" she joked. "I'm here, isn't that what you wanted?"
He rolled his eyes and shoved her away lightly, forcing her to remove her chin from its comfy resting place. "Yes. But still, it's my birthday!"
Before she could stop herself, she leaned in and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Dear Merlin, what was she thinking, downing so many beers? Her only consolation was that Charlie turned as pink as she did. He spent so much time making her blush, and Eloise was starting to see why. You'd think that the pink would clash with his hair, but it suited him.
"Happy birthday."
Before he had a chance to collect himself, Eloise reached into the arm of her sweater and extracted her wand, which she used to summon the tiny, meticulously gift-wrapped box from her coat pocket. She handed it over to him wordlessly.
"Eloise, I was only joking," he tried to argue, not taking the box immediately, but she reached over and grabbed his hand, closing it over the box for him. She'd chosen Gryffindor scarlet and gold for the wrappings.
