She dreamed of Charlie that night, playing Quidditch on dragons and ice-dancing on the grass in the middle of a Quidditch pitch.

Her bedroom was filled with light when she finally rolled out of bed the next day. Her digital clock, such a lovely Muggle invention, brightly proclaimed it was after noon.

She lingered in the shower, feeling wonderfully rested, in a cheerier mood than normal. She almost didn’t want to place the blame on Charlie, didn’t want to jinx the connection they’d developed last night.

She padded into the kitchen, barefoot, dressed in her bathrobe again. Jabbing her wand at the coffeepot, she waited impatiently for it to brew. Her doorbell rang as she poured the first cup a few moments later.

“Venice! Let me in, let me in!”

Ginny’s voice was unmistakable. Whispering the spells to release the wards, she heard the door bang open a heartbeat later and then Ginny appeared at her elbow, almost bouncing up and down in her eagerness.

“So what happened last night? Tell me everything!”

Venice cocked an eyebrow, sipped slowly at her coffee.

“You should know, Ginevra. After all, you’re the one who told him he should take me ice-skating. Which, if I’m correct, was not mentioned at all when he asked me to dinner. Dinner, Ginny. Not a date. What on earth did you tell him after I left the Burrow?”

Ginny took a deep breath.

“Please, please, please don’t be mad. I could tell the two of you had something, I mean, not everyone can sit there and talk to Charlie, of all people, for most of four hours without wanting to stick their wand in their eye. I love my brother, but he can be a bit dull. So I gave him a few hints. I know how snooty you are about your flowers, and I knew Charlie would want to bring you some, and I wanted him to make a good impression.”

“I’m not snooty, Ginny, just particular. I know what I like.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and helped herself to some coffee.

“Exactly. The last thing I needed was for you to say something and hurt his feelings. I know how you are, Venice. We’ve been friends for too long.”

“Alright, fine, but ice-skating? What brought that on? It wasn’t supposed to be a date!”

Ginny glared at her for a moment before answering.

“You know as well as I do that you need to get back on the ice more often.” She shrugged innocently. “Last night was the perfect excuse.”

Venice drained the last of her coffee, holding back the string of curses she felt like spewing.

“I hate you, Ginny.”

Ginny patted her on the shoulder.

“I hate you too, Venice. Besides, the way Charlie tells it, you never disagreed with him when he said you were interested in him too.”

She felt the heat creeping up her neck into her cheeks.

“What did he do, recite the whole evening to you?”

“Nah, just the important bits. He, uh, also mentioned that you’re coming for dinner today...”

She paused, and Venice held her breath, waiting for the rest of it.

“...as his date.”

Venice hid her face in her hands.

“Ginny! Gods, alright, yes, I’m coming as his date, but if you make a thing out of this I’m going to curse you bald. And I’m dressing myself tonight, for your information, so don’t even ask.”

Ginny held her hands up, the picture of innocence.

“I wasn’t going to!”

Venice narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I thought about it...”

Both girls laughed. Ginny impulsively threw her arms around her friend.

“You and Charlie! Venice...thing or not, I’m so excited!”

For a moment they just smiled at each other. Ginny suddenly smacked herself in the forehead.

“Mum sent cookies! Hold on just a minute...”

She darted out of the kitchen. Venice heard the door open and shut, and then Ginny reappeared, holding a plate piled with cookies.

“Double chocolate chip, your favorite.”

Venice didn’t wait for her finish the sentence. Snatching the plate out of Ginny’s hand, she sandwiched two cookies together and took a large bite.

“Mmmm....”

“Should I tell Charlie to bring you cookies instead of flowers next time?” Ginny giggled.

“On’y if they’re choc’late,” Venice mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Ginny helped herself to a cookie.

“So what are you wearing tonight?”

She glanced expectantly at Venice, who ignored her and took another humongous bite of cookie.

“C’mon, please tell me!”

“You’ll find out when I get there tonight.”

“Venice, you’re taking all the fun out of my life, I hope you know that.”

“I do what I can, Ginny.”

“You’re cruel.”

“Only to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Ginny finished her cookie and wiped the crumbs from her hands.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight then. Mum’s roped me into helping with dinner, and I want to spend a little time with Harry before, so...”

Venice grinned at her friend.

“Aww, look at the lovebirds! How cute!”

“Shut it. At least I can admit I have a guy.”

Ginny ran from the room as Venice whipped out her wand.

“I’ll see you tonight!”

The door clicked shut a moment later. Venice growled under her breath and grabbed another cookie.

~~~

At 2:45 she was in the bathroom, burning her finger for the third time on her curling iron. Finally frustrated, she yanked the plug from the wall with a jerk and all but threw it back in the cupboard.

“Blasted, infernal, MUGGLE CONTRAPTION!!”

She grimaced at her reflection.

“Why in the world am I getting fancied up anyway? Bloody hell, it’s just Charlie. He saw me flat on my ass yesterday, I don’t think he’s going to care if my hair isn’t curled!”

She stalked out of the bathroom, furious with herself for being such a...such a girl.

She paused in her bedroom long enough to grab a pair of trainers and her favorite green sweater. She was most decidedly not getting dressed up today. Jeans and a plain black tee were the first clothes she’d pulled from her closet today, so that’s what she’d put on.

“Ginny’s going to have my head for this later.”

She heaved a heavy sigh, glancing down at her sweater.

“Oh well...”

She hopped down the hall, putting her trainers on as she went. She had barely stowed her wand in her back pocket when the doorbell rang.

If there was one good thing about Charlie, it was that he was definitely prompt.

“I’m coming!” she yelled, taking one last deep breath, running a hand over her hair, and trying to calm the sudden fluttering of her stomach as she opened the door.

He was leaning on the doorjamb again, looking the picture of nonchalance. The grin that sprung onto his face when he saw her belied his easy stance.

“Hello, Venice. You look lovely.”

“Hey, Charlie. Are you always on time like this?”

He nodded, rocking back on his heels.

“I try to be.” A shrug. “I hate being late.”

She smiled.

“Me too.”

He moved aside as she stepped into the hallway. She felt, more than saw, him look her up and down.

“Do I pass the test?”

His eyes instantly jumped to the wallpaper.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She snorted, waiting for the rest of it.

“Yeah, you pass the first test.”

“The first test? I’m almost afraid to ask what the second one is.”

His grin turned suddenly devilish. He stepped closer, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“Weasley...are you smelling me?”

“It’s the second test! Don’t sound so offended. I just wanted to see if you smelled as amazing as you did last night. And you do, even more so, if that’s possible, so you passed with the highest grade you can think of.”

His cheeks had the most amazing dimples when he smiled like that...

Taking his proffered arm, she shook her head slightly.

“You’ve gone round the twist, Weasley.”

He was still laughing as they Apparated.

Her face was thoughtful as they appeared on the Burrow’s front lawn.

“Charlie, I have to ask—if I was going to Apparate here anyway, why did you come pick me up?”

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she didn’t already know the answer.

“That’s what a man does on a date. He picks the lady up, because she should never have to go anywhere alone. Blimey—you certainly do ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

She shrugged a shoulder innocently.

“Once a Ravenclaw, always a Ravenclaw. We like knowing the answers to everything.”

He chuckled as he opened the kitchen door for her, his fingers lingering at her waist as he ushered her inside. It was hard to ignore the goosebumps his touch raised.

The kitchen was empty save for Molly, working at the stove like always, and Fleur, prattling away at the table as she folded napkins. Venice caught Molly’s look of exasperation as she turned to smile warmly at Venice.

“Hello, dear. We’re glad you could come.”

“I wouldn’t miss your cooking for the world, Molly. And thank you so much for the cookies Ginny brought over—they made a wonderful breakfast.”

“Cookies for breakfast? Taking a leaf from Fred and George’s book today, I see.”

Venice grinned sheepishly.

“They do rub off on a person after a while.”

Laughing, Molly shooed them both from the room.   

Charlie twisted his fingers with hers as they moved down the hall.

The living room was crowded, as always, as they stepped inside. Bill and Harry were in the corner, playing Exploding Snap. Ginny was crouched behind her oldest brother, plaiting his long hair into a style Angelina Johnson would be proud of.

Ron was sprawled in the middle of the sofa, half hidden behind the Daily Prophet, reading aloud the Ministry’s latest blunderings to anyone that might be listening. Arthur dozed in the armchair next to the window; Fred and George stood on either side of the chair, alternately turning Arthur’s hair and eyebrows different colors.

Charlie nudged Ron with his foot.

“Budge up, mate.”

Ron’s eyes appeared over the top of his paper. His eyebrows went up as he caught sight of their intertwined fingers.

Silently, he scooted over.

Charlie dropped onto the couch, pulling Venice down with him. He grinned at her as he pulled her hand into his lap.

“Percy at the office?” he asked the room at large.

Fred glanced over and nodded.

“When isn’t he? He said he might be back in time for dinner, if he got his report finished.”

George glanced over and rolled his eyes.

“And handed in, personally, to Kingsley. Git.”

“Git,” Charlie agreed. He stroked his thumb across the top of Venice’s hand. “Ah well. At least there’s more food for us, then.”

She shivered as his thumb backtracked across her skin. Did he know how odd, and wonderful, that felt?

Arthur snorted awake as Bill let out a sudden string of loud curses from the corner. Fred and George instantly pretended to be absorbed in straightening the curtains behind their father’s chair.

Venice had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as Arthur repositioned himself in his chair, smiling at her and Charlie. He looked a bit peaky with one green eyebrow and one blue one.

Ron laid the paper aside after a moment, finally realizing that none of his family was listening to him. He leaned across Charlie to catch Venice’s eye.

“We’re playing quidditch in the orchard after dinner. You in?”

Venice nodded.

“She can’t,” Charlie interrupted. Venice and Ron both stared at him.

“I can’t?”

“You can’t.” Charlie calmly met her gaze. “We have plans.”

She didn’t trust the hint of a twinkle she saw in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” she said, shooting Charlie a look that would have made a lesser man quail. “Your brother’s a bit of a caveman, it seems. He’d rather fling me over his shoulder and drag me places than inform me, like a gentleman, beforehand.”

Charlie’s eyebrows flicked upward.

“Did you hear that, Ron? I think that was the sound of Venice giving me her permission to fling her over my shoulder.”

Before she could even think to disagree, she found herself hanging upside down over Charlie’s shoulder, her eyes level with the waistband of his jeans.

“Charlie Weasley! Put me down this instant!”

“Charlie, mate, did we ever mention how dreadfully ticklish our favorite employee conveniently happens to be?”

Fred’s voice was the epitome of innocence. A heartbeat later his fingers descended, and she dissolved into helpless giggles.

Tears were streaming from her eyes when Charlie finally set her on her feet. She bent over, breathing deeply. Her stomach ached from laughing and her head swam as her blood returned to its proper places.

“Now, Venice, I feel compelled to remind you that I’m your boss, and as such, deserve to be treated with the proper respect—”

Venice punched Fred in the chest, effectively cutting off his pompous speech.

“Bugger off, Fred.” She rounded on Charlie next, who stood picking at his fingernails, obviously unworried. She jabbed her finger at him. “And you! Would you care to live to see your next birthday?”

His eyes widened. She could see the start of a grin lurking round the corners of his mouth.

“Are you threatening me, Venice Moon?”

“You bet your ass.”

“You know what happens to people that threaten me?”

She took a step forward, folding her arms across her chest. She wasn’t afraid.

“What?”

He stepped closer, closing the scant distance between them. Her heart fluttered in her chest as he raised a hand, cradled her cheek in his fingers.

She knew what he was going to do before his lips lowered, brushed against hers, but she couldn’t move, didn’t want to move.

His kiss was gentle, sending a shiver all the way down to her toes.

Too soon, he pulled away slightly, ducking his head to catch her eyes.

Without a word she stretched a hand up, slid it behind his neck, pulled his lips down to hers again.

When they finally broke apart her breath was coming in gasps. Charlie’s face was tinted with pink, and his eyes were shining in a way she knew hers must mirror. He smiled at her, rubbing his thumb gently along her lower lip before pulling his hand away.

Behind her, Fred and George let out a pair of ear-splitting wolf whistles. Behind Charlie, Molly appeared in the doorway.

“Fred! George! Stop that this instant!” She rubbed her ears, sending her sons a look that only a mother could manage.

“Sorry, Mum. It’s really Charlie’s fault—if he’d quit snogging his girl in the middle of the room and giving us all a display...”

Venice had never wanted to be invisible so much in her life. She couldn’t read the look on Molly’s face; Charlie slipped his hand around hers again as he turned to face his mum.

“Charlie! Don’t embarrass the poor girl.”

Molly stepped forward, smiling warmly. She pulled Venice into a rather awkward hug; Charlie wouldn’t let go of her hand. Venice breathed a sigh of relief. She loved Molly like her own mum. If Molly hadn’t approved of her going with Charlie...she didn’t know what she’d do.

And since when were she and Charlie going together? How had that happened? She glanced up at Charlie. He was already watching her, his expression one of contentment.

For a moment no one spoke, and then Ron interrupted the moment, as always.

“Is dinner ready yet, Mum?”

Molly leaned around Venice to give her youngest son an admonishing look. Mothers really were excellent at saying things without words.

“Yes, it’s ready. Let’s eat.”

She stepped aside so Charlie and Venice could exit first. Venice was certain that Molly would be looking at Arthur now, the kind of look only a husband, and a father, would understand.

Charlie dropped her hand to slip his arm around her waist as they entered the kitchen. He pulled her close for a quick kiss before pulling out a chair at the table for her. She sat down, her head still buzzing with questions.

He must have seen them on her face, for he whispered, “We’ll talk later, alright?”

She nodded as the rest of the Weasleys crowded in.

Dinner was noisy, punctuated by laughter from the twins, Harry, and Ron, who were grouped at one end of the table, and snippets of Ministry gossip between Arthur and Bill, and later Percy, who Apparated into the kitchen halfway through the meal.

An hour later, stuffed to the gills, Charlie and Venice begged off third helpings of trifle pudding.

“Sorry, Mum, I’d love to stay here all night and eat, but Venice and I have plans.”

He shuffled her out the door; she barely had time to call a few goodbyes over her shoulder.

“What’s the rush, Weasley?”

He grinned, tipped her chin up with his thumb.

“You’ll see.”

She closed her eyes as he snatched her hand up again. She was starting to like the feel of his strong, calloused fingers twined around hers.

They Apparated with a pop, and when she opened her eyes they were standing at the front door of her flat.

She opened her mouth to ask what he had in mind, her sentence lost as he suddenly bent and rubbed his lips gently against her own.

“You have such soft lips, Venice,” he murmured as he finally pulled away. “And you’re so adorable when you blush.”

She had to back up, get some breathing room. She pressed her cold fingertips against her cheeks for a quick moment, trying in vain to cool her face down, staring across at Charlie as she released the wards on her door.

“Venice, if I’m rushing you, please tell me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, it’s just...you really do have lovely lips.”

She could hear the concern, the sudden unease, in his voice. She smiled gently at him.

“No, not rushing, just...unexpected? It’s still a bit weird, considering we just met the other day, but...I feel like I’ve known you forever, Charlie. That’s the weird part. It’s not bad weird; please don’t take that the wrong way. I like you, I do.”

She paused, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she struggled to find the right words.

“I don’t even know what I’m trying to say...”

“Then don’t say anything.”

He took her hand and led her into her flat, closing the door softly behind them. He pulled her against him, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his cheek on her hair.

“I like you, Venice. You know that. I like the idea of us, but if that frightens you at all, tell me. You won’t hurt my feelings. I don’t want to scare you away: I want to get to know you better.”

She let her eyes slide shut, let her head rest against his chest for a moment. He was warm, and sturdy, and he smelled...bloody amazing...

She let her arms wind themselves around his waist. He shivered as she sighed into his shirt. It was a few moments before she could talk herself into letting him go.