Charlie
C1, part one, Charlie pov
“Bloody hell, why is it so cold here?”
Charlie Weasley rubbed his hands against his arms, shivering.
Snow covered the ground in a blanket that looked comfy (but definitely was not).
“It’s winter.”
Charlie turned to the boy standing next to him, who somehow managed to be a head taller than him. He was dressed in fur-lined black robes reaching his ankles, with a silver pattern of roses at its hem. His hair, white, resembled the snow upon which they stood, yet the aspect of his appearance which struck Charlie the most was the vibrant green of his eyes. He was older. Probably had graduated around two or three years before, whereas Charlie was approaching the end of his school years.
“No shit, Blondie”.
The boy turned towards him, his expression sour.
“First of all, never call me ‘Blondie’ again. Second of all, stop complaining. I graduated three years ago and yet I’m here, freezing my ass off because of a stupid ball that Dumbledore’s holding for students and alumni. I’d rather be back home in Romania, but no. I have to listen to a kid complain about the cold. Amazing.”
“You live in Romania?”
“Why is that the only thing that you got from what I said?”
Charlie laughed, as the boy -although ‘man’ would be more appropriate here- looked even more annoyed, were that possible.
“Cause dragons.”
The other’s expression softened in an instant the instant those two words left Charlie’s mouth, and an unexpected flame lit up in his eyes.
“Dragons interest you?”
There was a newfound excitement in his voice, which vibrated with joy.
“I’ve been fascinated with them ever since I opened an image book at an old book store in Wales, at six years old. I still remember the colorful illustrations, stretching across the old pages, and how I begged to get it. It’s been on my bookshelf ever since.”
“Wait. Is it Scales and Claws by Winter Raven?”
Charlie gasped.
“Yes. How did you know?”
A smile stretched across the boy’s lips, and in that instant Charlie found him beautiful, with nearly invisible specks of snow crowning his white hair and green eyes as a field of fresh grass in a spring’s morning.
“A gorgeous illustrated old book about dragons? It could only be that one, since it’s the only one of Studies of Dragons that’s missing from my collection. You know that this book is unique and that it has no other copies, right?”
In fact, Charlie did not know that. The book’s value seemed so much more important now.
“I’ve been looking for that one for years. And it was you who had it all this time… What’s your name?”
“Charlie. Charlie Weasley. You?”
The boy winced.
“Just Felix. That’s it.”
Felix looked away, seemingly lost in thought. Oh. So he had family issues.
But Felix… where had he heard that name before? It was definitely familiar.
“Weren’t you head boy?” Charlie asked.
“Yes. And do you still play quidditch? You were quite good, I recall.”
He didn’t look as sad now. Not that he’d really looked sad before.
“Yeah. I’m captain of the team now.
“You have a good memory.” Charlie laughed, earning a smile from Felix. The only time he’d actually seemed happy was when they had been talking about dragons.
“Eh, my memory’s alright, but not that amazing. I just specifically remembered you, that’s all. You’re quite a memorable person“
Even in this cold, Charlie’s cheeks managed to heat up. Had Felix meant that as a compliment?
“I am?”
“Bah t’es trop mignon, évidemment que je me souviens de toi.”
What. Was that german? Or french? Charlie was terrible at languages.
“Excuse me? What did you just say?”
Felix smirked.
“Oh, sorry. I just wanted to say that your red hair is very recognizable.”
“You sure that you’re not confusing me with a brother of mine?”
Felix turned towards him again, an eyebrow raised. Charlie noticed that his brows were dark, nearly black. They’d been hidden by Felix’ pale hair, but he could clearly see them now. Did he dye his hair?
“Why would I remember your brothers? Aren’t you the one who rescued a cat on the roof of the astronomy tower?”
“Oh, yeah, that was me.”
Felix smiled again. He had a very cute smile.
“It was mine. Never got to thank you, by the way. Too caught up in my applications for dragon sanctuaries, I s’pose.”
Charlie nodded. It had been Tonks who’d told him about the cat, and he’d rushed to his broom to go up there and get it back. He still had scars on his arms from the animal’s claws, but he didn’t regret it.
“You’re a cat person?”
“Nah. It was my brother’s.”
Felix didn’t elaborate, and Charlie guessed that it was a sensitive subject, just like his family was one.
“So… what exactly are we doing here?”
Felix rolled his eyes. It was deserved, honestly, as Charlie, who’d been summoned in the middle of Charms class, had barely paid any attention to Dumbledore, too busy admiring the headmaster’s phœnix. He had no regrets: the bird was beautiful.
“Didn’t Professor Dumbledore tell you? We’re s’posed to act as an escort to some important person. Should be here by now.”
“Why us, though?”
“A quidditch captain prefect and an alumni who used to be head boy and top of his year? Of course it was going to be us.”
“Oh.” Charlie thought for a bit. “Wait. How did you know that I was a prefect? I didn’t tell you that.”
“Professor Dumbledore did, didn’t he tell you anything about me?”
Charlie stayed silent for a bit, doing his best to remember what the headmaster had said.
“Oh, yeah. He said ‘You two will get along quite well, I should think’.” Quoting Dumbledore, Charlie deepened his voice, earning a snort from Felix. The redhead exaggeratedly gasped.
“My lord, do my ears deceive me or did you snort?”
“Oh, shut up!”
Felix grinned and pushed Charlie who fell into the snow.
“Hey! You little…”
Charlie immediately reached for Felix, pulling his coat, causing him to fall too.
Soon, both were laughing, covered in snow, cold, but happier than they’d both been in a long time.
“Ahem.”
Charlie’s head swiveled in an instant. Standing near them was a man who looked somewhere in his 60’s with grey hair and a vaguely amused expression on his wrinkled face. And oh boy, did Charlie know that face.. The boys scrambled to their feet, faces flushed.
“Mister Scamander!”
Charlie’s idol smiled.
“That would be me. At least, that’s what people call me, so yes. I’m Scamander.
“We are terribly sorry. We didn’t see you here and-”
“No need to apologize. I just arrived, anyway.” Newt Scamander looked different than what Felix had pictured, to be honest. The only photographs he’d seen of the man dated back from when Scamander was young, which was enough to recognize him now. This older version had more wrinkles, yes, but also some scars peeking from his collar and above his brow, showing that the man had led a tumultuous life. “So, if I understood well what Albus told me, you two like dragons?”
Charlie’s eyes widened. Dumbledore had told the Great Newt Scamander about him?
“Yes!” Charlie answered, excited.
Newt Scamander smiled.
“I’ve always loved seeing other people just as enthusiastic and vibrant as I was at that age… So you two are Charlie Weasley and Felix Rosier, am I correct?”
Charlie would have jumped in excitement had Newt Scamander not finished his sentence. Rosier? Felix was a Rosier?
Oh. Charlie now understood why the boy had wanted to steer clear from his name. Being associated with Death Eaters was never a good thing.
“Yes.”
Felix’ face had darkened, probably at the mention of his surname, and Charlie reached for his hand and squeezed it to show his support. He nearly regretted the action when Felix squeezed back, nearly cutting off all of the blood circulation in Charlie’s hand, but, as it seemed to help, he deemed it the right thing to do.
A smile danced on the old magizoologist’s lips as he saw their intertwined hands, yet he didn’t say a thing.
“Well I already know the way up. Do you two want to stay here? I’m terribly sorry if I interrupted anything.”
There was something in his voice that made Charlie’s cheeks heat up, and he quickly let go of Felix’ hand.
“No! We were asked to escort you, so escort you we will!”
Charlie turned towards Felix, who had a strange expression on his face that Charlie couldn’t quite read. Oh well. He’d figure it out later.
“Charlie’s right. We are coming with you, sir.”
“Just call me Newt. May I call you by your first names?”
Charlie could have passed out right there.
“You can call me whatever you want, Mister Sca- Newt!”
“I do have a preference for Felix, if that doesn’t bother you, sir.”
“Of course!” the man smiled warmly at them “And I told you to call me Newt. Now shall we get going? It is quite cold here.”
Charlie nodded, smiling, and the three of them made their way up to the castle.
“Very nice looking Thestral you’ve got there, sir.” Felix then said. A Thestral? Here? Was that how Newt had arrived?
The old man’s expression darkened, and he gravely looked towards Felix.
“You’re too young to know what a Thestral looks like. Wars are truly horrible things. people die, and children survive remembering it.”
Newt Scamander continued talking a little, before falling silent.
The rest of the walk held no conversation, and all Charlie could think about was Felix. The more he learned about him, the more mysterious and interesting he seemed. He’d seen death (of a loved one perhaps?)
Apparently, Felix didn’t want to tell him yet, and Charlie decided to respect that decision despite his gnawing curiosity. Felix Rosier, the son and brother of death eaters. Felix Rosier, the head boy at the top of his year. Felix Rosier, the boy who loved dragons.