Disclaimer: It's all J. K. Rowling's.
Summary: We fight the darkness, but do we ever win? A Charlie
Weasley
story.
*
Chapter One: A Message
'The lion and the unicorn fought for the
crown.
The lion beat the unicorn all round the
town.
Some gave them white bread and some gave them
brown;
Some gave them plum cake and drummed them out of
town.'
The sun dawning over the Black Sea cast errant rays of light
through
the half-open window, illuminating the young man's face in high
relief.
Charlie Weasley grumbled and rolled over, making a mental note to
turn
the hostel 'round so that his window faced the west when he awoke
properly,
but made no effort to get up. As it was barely six-thirty and not a
suitable
time to be awake, Charlie had no intention whatsoever of bothering
to
get up before eight o'clock.
The owl flapping outside his window had other ideas. The incessant
tapping
noise was loud enough for Charlie to pull his pillow over his ears,
but
the repetitive sound could not be blocked. The owl just tapped
louder
than ever. Figures that I'd be able to sleep through the roaring
and
stomping and screaming of mating Romanian Stubnoses, but not the
tapping
of an owl.
Sighing resignedly and wondering if he'd ever get a truly good
night's
sleep, Charlie threw the window open the rest of the way. The owl
alighted
on his bedpost, pleased with itself, and held out its leg
importantly.
The parchment, bearing the seal of Hogwarts Headmaster Albus
Dumbledore,
looked more than a little foreboding to Charlie. Still, he slit it
open
with his thumb and began to read.
Dear Mr. Weasley,
In recent months it has become apparent to you that all is not
well
in the wizarding world. I fear that the disaster at the Triwizard
Tournament
is only the beginning. It's come to my attention, and that of
others,
that Romania could become a bargaining zone. If I have one piece of
advice
to give you, it's to watch for strangers. You'll know them when you
see
them.
Concernedly yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Charlie frowned. It wasn't unlike Dumbledore to be so cryptic, but
if
this was so important… He shook off the bad vibes he'd been getting
and
threw on a pair of trousers over his sleeping shorts. Grabbing his
notes,
his wand, a quill and his jacket, he headed into the communal
kitchen
to grab a quick breakfast.
Anya and Jacques were already up. Coffee was brewing and breakfast
on
the table. "Morning, Charlie," Anya said cheerfully, tossing her
dark
hair out of her face.
"Mmm," mumbled Charlie, scribbling away on his notepad.
"Ah, c'est un beau matin," Jacques commented in French.
"Bee-you-tiful
morning, hien, Charles?"
"Mmhmm," responded Charlie, signing his letter with a flourish and
finally
looking up. "Has the female chosen a spot to lay her eggs yet?"
Anya shook her head, half-Shee eyes lidded and shadowed with
exhaustion.
"No, but you should've heard them last night. How did you
sleep?"
"Very well, thanks to a strong Silence Charm and one too many
glasses
of vodka. What about you, Jacques?"
"L'amour!" Jacques said with a roguish grin. "I was not inside
sleeping,
mais non, I was outside watching zem!"
Anya grinned, as if she has been expecting this. "Definite downside
to
being a dragon- there is no privacy."
Even Charlie could barely suppress a smile. "You never struck me as
the
voyeur type, Jacques."
"You laugh," Jacques retorted, "but wait until ze love bug, she
bites
you-"
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "You're in love with Anita?"
Jaques shook his head haughtily. "Mais non! Ce n'est pas elle qui a
mes
attentions! But Alonzo…"
Not really surprised, Charlie went about eating his breakfast with
a
knowing look upon his face. And I thought practicing
inappropriate
charms on a goat was bad. The French omelet Jacques had
obviously
made was quite good, however, and so he made no further comment,
being
rather engrossed in his food. Now, where is that ruddy
owl?
Dear Professor,
What's this about bargaining zones and strangers? I'll keep my
eyes
out for newcomers, but be warned- I don't get out much. There are
only
fifteen of us taking care of these two dragons, and I only get into
'town'
about once a month. I still don't know what you want me to do. Could
you
please be a little less vague?
Yours confusedly,
Charlie Weasley
Charlie tucked the note into the owl's pouch and set him out the
window,
watching him fly off into the distance. Then, he grabbed his wand
and
notepad once again and went outside to watch the dragons.
Anita, it seemed, had chosen a spot for her nest earlier that
morning
when everyone was eating breakfast. She'd settled down near the base
of
the massive cliff in a dense brush that would soon be trampled down
into
more of a nest-shape. Rocks naturally lined the edges of the brush
and
there was just barely enough room for her to lie down.
Once the eggs hatched, it would be crowded, but that was a given
anyway.
At the moment she was glaring furiously at Alonzo, who had tried to
approach
her at a bad moment and was now sulking by the sea.
Charlie roughly sketched the location of the nest into his logbook,
noting
that it faced east and was protected on the other three sides. He
was
also somewhat amused at Anita's anti-male behavior at the moment; he
vaguely
remembered the mood-swings his mother had had when she was pregnant
with
Ginny. By that time, however, his father had had a lot of experience
with
the pregnant Molly and knew when to back off. Alonzo, being a good
eighty
years younger than Anita, had no such experience, and it showed.
Anita had plenty of experience. While she was a hundred fifty years
old,
she was hardly approaching middle age for a dragon.
Alonzo was seventy-three and just barely full-grown, having molted
out
of his last adolescent skin only six months earlier. He was a
beautiful
mixture of roan and brown, crested with a deep gold on his head and
neck.
Anita, normally black and green and silver, had strange gray marks
between
scales on her belly, and Charlie gathered from this that she was
nearly
ready to lay the eggs.
A thump beside him startled him out of his halfhearted musings, and
Charlie
diverted some of his attention from his drawing. "Seems that Anita's
found
a spot she likes at last," he commented, doodling a bit more on his
notepad.
Anya showed her concurrence with the barest shake of her head.
"Where've
you been all day? Your thoughts are anywhere but here."
"Feeling my age," Charlie joked, not looking up.
Anya looked over his shoulder, watching the pencil as Charlie
sketched
away. "That's somewhat depressing," she finally said. Charlie wasn't
sure
if she meant his comment or the drawing. "Trouble back home?"
Charlie sighed and finally put down the notepad. "Yeah. I'm not
sure
exactly what- Dumbledore wrote me and told me to keep my eye out for
strangers,
but that was basically it. Kind of cryptic, you know?"
Anya nodded. "Typical of him."
"Most definitely," Charlie agreed. "But it's made me think."
"Small miracle," Anya said, smiling a little. "Not surprising that
it
didn't put you off your breakfast, though." She poked him in the
stomach.
"How can you eat like that and not gain weight?"
Charlie looked up, somewhat amused. "We spend eighteen hours a day,
seven
days a week, running around chasing dragons and you're asking me why
I'm
not fat?"
She shrugged. "Makes sense that you eat so much." This sentence was
punctuated
with a yawn, and the two of them lapsed into silence again.
Across the valley, the other four cabins that housed dragon keepers
were
starting to buzz to life. A few sparks here, some smoke from a fire
there,
and the general bustle of the camp was restored to its daily
constant.
Charlie often found it somewhat amusing that he roomed with crazy
early-risers,
when he would much rather have had a more normal schedule. Then
again,
he didn't get on nearly as well with any of the other keepers like
he
did with Anya and Jacques.
"Did you know," Charlie finally said, "that someone actually died
during
the Triwizard Tournament?"
Anya's face closed off a bit. "I'd heard," she said, "but I thought
it
was just a rumor."
Charlie nodded. "Seventeen years old and destined for Head Boy-dom,
Captain
of the Quidditch team and all-around do-gooder. There was absolutely
no
reason he had to die. Did you hear how it happened?"
Anya shook her head wordlessly.
Charlie let his breath out slowly. "Voldemort. He's back, you know.
Things
will dissolve into anarchy any day now. We're still too weak to
withstand
that kind of onslaught right now. Under Fudge, who won't even
acknowledge
that he's back in power, we haven't got a chance…" His head dropped
into
his hands.
His companion was silent for a long while. "Charlie, how old were
you
when Voldemort fell?"
"Only ten."
"Then let me tell you how it was when he reigned. When he first
rose,
there was a mad sort of a rush to just about anyplace you could
think
of. Folks stocked up on food, potions supplies, extra wands, robes,
talismans,
you name it. A lot of people quit their jobs to be home with their
families.
Those who did work did that and not much else, most of them being
Aurors
or Ministry employees with a better sense of duty and loyalty. We
all
went to sleep knowing that we could wake up with our family dead, or
might
not wake up at all.
"This had an expected effect on the economy. Diagon Alley became
deserted
and Knockturn Alley flourished. You couldn't trust anyone, so nobody
had
friends and nobody went out to dinner. Restaurants closed. St.
Mungo's
was overrun with curse-wounded patients. One in every three newborn
babies
was killed by corrupt mediwizards."
Anya sighed and continued. "I'm not saying that hiding the whole
thing
is a condonable course of action, Charlie. Just that, were you in
Minister
Fudge's shoes, you would be quite reluctant to announce Voldemort's
return
to power, as well."
Charlie awoke somewhat late the next morning, which was a blessing.
It
was Cabin Four's turn to wake up early and check on Anita's
situation
before breakfast and it had been Cabin Three's turn to stay up late
the
night before. Naturally that meant that Charlie got to sleep in,
something
he would never again take for granted.
Anya and Jaques, of course, were already awake and making breakfast
in
the kitchen- neither of them wanted to brave Charlie's cooking,
which
left something to be desired. "Morning, Charlie," Anya called in her
usual
cheerful manner.
"'Morning," Charlie answered somewhat sleepily, mulling over his
orange
juice.
"Anita laid her eggs during the night," Anya informed him as she
set
his hash browns down in front of him. "Alonzo was ecstatic. He
nearly
set fire to Cabin One." She grinned. "Anita has him sitting with
them
now. It's comical how human they act. Oh, and this came for you."
Anya
handed him a roll of parchment from the counter.
Charlie glanced down at it, noting the Hogwarts seal in the middle.
"Thanks,
Anya. Breakfast was delicious." He excused himself and went to his
room
to open the letter.
As it turned out, it wasn't only a letter. When he did unroll it, a
small
newspaper clipping fell out. Holding that in his left hand, Charlie
scanned
quickly through the letter.
Charlie,
Circumstances dictate that you return to England immediately as
your
kind is in high demand. I'm afraid I have very little else to add
that
I can safely send you in a letter, but take this newspaper clipping
for
notice- it is imperative that I speak to you in person. I shall
arrange
a meeting through your father.
Your Headmaster,
A. Dumbledore
Charlie took one look at the newspaper clipping before hanging his
head.
"Oh, no."
