DragonFires
They were, perhaps, the only thing that got him through his training. Thousands of little flames speckled across the valley floor, licking the night sky; they were the first things he laid eyes on in all of Romania, before the dragons, before the snow-capped mountains or the trees. They were the DragonFires.
They arrived by night. Charlie and five young men and a young woman had all been given Portkeys that took them to a small lonely house on the side of the mountain where they met a tall, broad shouldered man who promptly told them, in both English and Romanian, to get their arses on a broom and fly. The flight had taken all afternoon and they had arrived, exhausted in the pitch dark to the sight of thousands of small fires in the valley below them.
Charlie stood there eyes wide open, taking the sight in, for the few seconds before he was shoved roughly towards the small stone house. The fires still burned a fierce song at the back of his eyelids as he listened to the short welcome speech. The man, whose name tag simply read Lyth, handed out assignment sheets that told them who their training partner was and where they could find their rooms.
Charlie stumbled wearily into the room and fell on top of the mattress, ignoring the mess all around him and barely noticing the small tray of food on the table. Food could wait. They would be up at dawn.
………
“Right,” Lyth said indicating the books he was holding up, “What’s the difference between these two?”
Charlie studied them. One was a Muggle novel about Dragons and the other was From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide. No one spoke.
“Nothing!” the man bellowed in a tone that dared anyone to disagree, “One was written by a Muggle who didn’t know the last thing about what Dragons are really like and the other was written by a Wizard who didn’t know the last thing about Dragons either, but thought himself something of an authority. But let me make it plain and simple: Dragons don’t behave like we expect them to; they don’t follow numbers and equations and no matter how many observations you make, each type of Dragon, each Dragon, is different. That’s why you will be assigned to a specific dragon to observe and then eventually work with. Your assignments may change, but for the next couple of months at least you’re stuck with what’s written on these papers.”
Charlie felt a chill work its way up his spine and he knew it had nothing to do with the early morning air. He would get his own dragon to observe and work with.
“I don’t care when or how often you go see your dragon, how well you complete this part of your training is up to you, but you will keep strictly to your patrol shifts. No excuses, no exceptions, no bloody whining!”
Charlie studied his assignment sheet for the first time since he had received it as Lyth began to translate his speech into Romanian for the two that didn’t speak English. His eyes opened wide in disbelief when he saw why the man had deemed it necessary to add that comment about whining. The shifts were long, erratic, and all to be preformed on broom. He loved flying, he truly did, but these hours were a bit much and left little room for sleep.
As soon as the speech was finished the two with the first shift rushed off to get something to eat. Charlie’s roommate came up to him and shook his hand. He introduced himself in Romanian and Charlie was, thankfully, able to make out his name. Nicola Romanski.
Nicola was unsuccessfully trying to contain his excitement and it would come up in short little exclamations that although he couldn’t understand Charlie could very much relate to. They ate a hurried breakfast and then headed off to the valley together in search of their assigned Dragons. They had about two hours before they would have to relieve the two others that were, it seemed, responsible for the clutter in the room.
As soon as they neared the valley, which was only slightly less impressive in the daylight, a tall, thin woman approached them. Her sleeves were pushed up her arms to her elbows revealing scarred, burnt arms. Her face, however, was alight with something beautiful that Charlie had only ever really seen on Hagrid, and the half-giant’s face wasn’t nearly as beautiful to begin with, so it had been harder to see with Hagrid.
She spoke only in Romanian so Charlie waited for her to give instructions to Nicola first before handing over his schedule sheet. She studied it for a moment before smiling and handing it back. He watched carefully as she pointed to her left and began drawing maps in the air. “Morleen!” she exclaimed at last. Charlie raised an eyebrow and she repeated it again stressing it as if it would help him get there.
“Thank you,” Charlie said politely and nodded his head, “I understand.”
Not that he did, but the pointing and the map she had drawn in the air seemed simple enough to follow. Whatever this Morleen was he could wait to find out. He made his way around the side of the mountain as quick as he possibly could while trying to dodge rushing Dragonkeepers and Trainees with only half an eye. His attention was really fixed on the Dragons. If not for the injured men and women that were being rushed away he would have been quite sure this was heaven.
They were magnificent. Greens and purples and blues and even a red one here and there; in his state all the names and breeds he had learned about flew out the window leaving only one monoslyllabellic sound in echoing in his mind. Oh.
Soon enough, he reached the general area that his “assignment” must be in and stopped still, looking around at men and women far too busy to bother with him. He wasn’t, after all, the only one with the lost look and dreamy eyes and he knew it. But his time was running out and he wanted to see his Dragon before patrol.
A small, rather tired looking woman stopped and shot him a questioning smile and he was very much aware that he was taking up precious minutes from her rest-time. “Morleen?” he asked hopefully.
A broad grin broke across her face and she pointed at a ridge further up the side of the mountain. He could see small puffs of smoke issuing from behind the protruding stone. Turning back to the woman he saw her wink and smile encouragingly before walking off.
“Well,” Chalrie mumbled to himself as he walked the last few steps, “This is it then.”
Morleen was an elegant, gigantic beast. He skin glittered silver in the light and her large wings were spread protectively over the circle that held her eggs. Charlie walked lower, feeling rather vulnerable at the top of the exposed ledge, and drank in the sight of the sleeping dragon, her long neck curled round one of the rocks that made the periphery of the nest, before realizing with a jolt, that half a large red eye was following him as he made his way down closer to the eggs.
A small man, well he looked small by comparison anyway, emerged from behind a large rock. He was wearing gray clothes that allowed him to blend in well with his surroundings. He came to stand beside Charlie, but neither broke the silence, Charlie’s heart was racing too fast for that anyway.
Finally the man spoke in a low voice almost like a hum: “It’s the only time I really get to look at her properly,” he paused and held Charlie’s eyes with his own, “Well Charlie Weasley, would you like to know more about your assignment?”
“Yes Sir!” it came out a hoarse, excited whisper and Morleen flicked her tail.
“Quiet, now,” the man whispered, “She won’t let me near her, even asleep, if we startle her.”
Charlie nodded, eyes wide, and watched the man as he walked closer and closer to the large circle of stone and passed inside, directly under the sleeping dragon’s left wing. He stuffed his hands into his pocket and then raised it to a blackish patch on the wing and began to rub. A deep hum and a puff of smoke almost sent Charlie running back to the safety of the small brick house, but his feet were glued to the floor. His brain soon caught up to the fact that Morleen didn’t mind this gentle rubbing of her sore-spot.
After a few minutes of rubbing the man walked a few steps further under the wing and rested his hand on a large spotted egg that lay among the others. He kept it there for a few seconds and then walked slowly back out, not stopping until he stood beside Charlie again.
A short silence followed in which Charlie wondered what had possessed the man to go in there like that without a drawn wand.
“It’s up my sleeve,” the low voice merged with the dragon’s…was that snoring? “Not that it would do much good to someone that close up. But she knows I don’t mean her any harm. You’re not to go anywhere near that close before your training period is up.”
Charlie nodded dumbly, his heart still beating a strange, excited rhythm in his chest. “And I trust that I don’t need to keep telling you where yours is, either. She likes to shift her eggs from time to time, especially when she notices a new face eyeing one of them so studiously. Move slowly and quietly when you’re here and remember that our Morleen is watched carefully so help will come if you need it. Keep your head about you, boy.”
“Yes Sir.” Charlie realized, as he said it, that that was the only thing he had uttered since he passed into Morleen’s clearing. His head was swimming with her image all through his first six hour patrol.
His excitement got his through his first week without mishap. He wouldn’t get to see much of his egg or Morleen because of the tight patrol schedule, but Charlie couldn’t complain too much about that. He knew that they didn’t just protect the nearby villages from the dragons, they also protected the dragons from any kind of harm a crazy wizard or another creature might do them. So he contented himself with a couple of hours of watching the dragon before heading to bed in the seven-hour break he had every second day. After a week, this schedule began to take its toll.
He was very tired and Nicola was chattering to him about his own egg. At that moment Charlie wished that he hadn’t begun to pick up some of the Romanian because all he wanted to do was give his weary head a break. There were still three hours left of patrol and he tried to clench his jaw and keep his eyes open. That was when they saw two dark spots moving very quickly (and in the wrong direction) below. Actually, it was Nicola who saw them first, for which Charlie would never forgive himself; he had allowed his eagerness to see the dragons take away from his sleep time knowing that it never did anyone any good.
They speeded down towards the small specs and Charlie pulled out his wand. A quick Stupefy followed by a Full-Body-Bind from Nicola did the trick. They dismounted near the men and Nicola began to jabber his apologies and explain why they weren’t allowed to be here.
“Nott!” Charlie heard his startled exclamation before he had time to process what he was seeing. This man was one of the rich purebloods in England, what could he possibly be doing getting his robes dirty in Romania?
The man sniffed and cast a sidelong glance at his stupefied partner, “What is the meaning of this disgraceful behavior Weasley?”
Charlie gritted his teeth and tried not to let the insults that had popped into mind come out. “You’re not supposed to be here, Nott, this is a preserve for Dragons.”
“Of course it is you insolent boy, that’s why I came here to shows my son-”
“Where’s your son Mr. Nott?” Charlie quirked his eyebrows disbelievingly and noticed that the other man was reviving.
“In the Village, you didn’t think I would bring him close before I knew how dangerous it was.”
Charlie cast an anti-apparition charm on the two and noticed that Nicola had just finished contacting Lyth so they headed down to the restaurant in the nearest village. Although everyone believed him after the interrogation, especially since he was able to produce his small, frightened son to back his story, Charlie wasn’t convinced, and it seemed that his “guide” wasn’t either. They were given a tour around the Dragon preserve and one of the keepers explained the proper procedure to book a visit. Charlie grinned at Nicola over his coffee as he noticed that they came back all too soon and that Nott was shaking like a leaf and trying to make a dignified exit.
“I’m heading back now, boys, you can stay in the village for a while if you like, but make sure you’re ready for your next patrol.”
Nicola, who was chatting animatedly with one of the shopkeeper’s daughters, barely noticed Lyth’s comment and gave a small wave. Charlie asked about the post office and headed down to send a letter home, determined to have Nott watched carefully after this incident.
He was lost in thought as he walked out the door of the post office and bumped into someone small. The poor thing got thrown to the ground and dropped her things. Charlie bent down to help her, apologizing sincerely, when he was met with rosy cheeks and a heart-wrenching smile. Her eyes almost danced with laughter as he helped her up and retrieved her basket and her book.
Charlie’s entire face was Weasley red, he was sure of it, and even his neck felt hot. He watched her enter the post office, determined to learn the beautiful language she spoke and realized that he had owl droppings on his shoulder and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a month.
Peeling his eyes away from the closed door, he took out his schedule and saw that his next patrol shift was in only two hours. “Bloody Nott!” he exclaimed, “How am I supposed to get any sleep now?”
And then the schedule was blown out of his hand by a strong gust of wind. He was sending Nott death wishes under his breath the entire time as he copied it from Lyth’s notebook onto a fresh piece of parchment. By the time he finished there was only enough time to go find Nicola before his next shift and, he noticed, the other gits they shared their room with were already back and snoring away.
His next four-hour shift was like torture and Charlie made up his mind not to sacrifice sleep to see the dragons again. This helped him get more sleep over the next week, but after three consecutive days of not visiting Morleen and her eggs he was in a foul mood. Especially since one of their group was explaining, in a very excited voice, how they had had to chase one of the dragons all the way to the deserted Village east of the preserve border before they could subdue her. “One of the Longbeaks,” the boy waved his fork around excitedly, “Took five of us to bring her down!”
“Us?”
At that Charlie tuned out the conversation and speared his meat before turning to the girl beside him. She was poring over a notebook and seemed to be drawing something with one hand as she held her sandwich with the other.
“What are you working on?” he asked, attempting to sound cheerful.
“Oh,” she looked up and shoved the notebook towards him, “Eeet wos beooootiful!”
He was almost glad to hear the broken English after all the time he spent with Nicola and smiled at the girl. It must have been something truly amazing, to make this headstrong, no-nonsense girl turn into mush and get tears in her eyes. He took the book carefully and stared down at the masterpiece.
Charlie’s stomach twisted, and he almost spit out his pumpkin juice, as he saw that it was a tiny Romanian Longhorn with half a broken eggshell perched on it’s adorable head at an angle. His egg wasn’t even close to hatching, at least not the last time he checked, but even his jealousy didn’t prevent his lips from quirking into a smile.
“Beautiful,” he said handing the notebook back reluctantly, “What are you going to name it?”
“Wot do you mean?” she asked as she studied the picture, “Are ve allowed to do zat?”
“Isn’t it yours?” Charlie asked confused, “Don’t they all have names?”
“Oh mate, no wonder you’re always staring off into space like a besotted git!” one of the boys butted into the conversation, “You’ve got one of the Ironbelly - Morleen’s haven’t you, lucky blighter!”
Charlie took this new information in with a slight blush that he felt creeping up his neck and turned back to the girl. “Well I think you should name him, he’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you!” the girl gave him a smile before turning back to the unfinished drawing, “I vill.”
Charlie finished his meal slowly, turning his sudden idea over and over in his mind. He had a couple more hours before his next patrol so he walked over to visit Morleen, but this time, instead of spending the entire time watching her and the eggs he explored the small area she had chosen to live in. It was warm enough both from the Dragon’s presence and the fire that blazed beside her nest and there was the large pool she liked to bathe in nearby. The mountain face was hard to climb, but after a half hour of exploration he was rewarded with a very convenient discovery.
Charlie almost ran back to the small brick house and even losing his schedule- again- didn’t bother him. He didn’t stop for the next two hours except to copy the schedule from Nicola, on his arm this time, and cast a charm to keep it from rubbing off. He was practically bouncing on his broom during patrol and Nicola seemed very concerned, but Charlie just smiled at him.
……
That night, a very tired (but still smiling) Charlie ate his dinner and took a quick shower before packing all his belongings and leaving the cottage. Nicola, who was very concerned, and a smiling Lyth followed the boy at a distance and watched him make his way over the small ridge to Morleen’s nest.
He scaled the mountain side and then disappeared into what appeared to be a cave. They followed slowly, jumping when Morleen swished her tail, and finally found him unpacking his things in a large cave that was now equipped with a fire, a very comfortable looking mattress, pictures of several red-heads on the walls, a large tub of water to wash his hands and face in, and an assortment of sweets.
“Hey, John, come take a look at this!” Lyth called down to Morleen’s keeper. The man scaled the mountainside nimbly and came to stand beside a grinning Lyth and Nicola.
“Reminds me of you when you were training, Lyth,” John said amiably, “Only you had the bloody schedule tacked to the wall and your charge wasn’t anywhere near as beautiful as our lady Morleen.”
Lyth laughed out loud and even Nicola burst into pales of laughter when Charlie said: “Oh, good idea!” and magically copied his schedule to the wall of the cave with dark purple ink.
Later that night Charlie cast a whispered charm over the open mouth of the cave and plopped himself down onto the mattress. The last thing he saw through the mouth of the cave before falling asleep was an elegant Ukranian Ironbelly rising to take a nighttime flight, her belly gleaming silver in the light of the blazing dragonfire below her.
