Starting Fresh
“We’re excited to have you here in Romania. Your reputation certainly precedes you,” The stocky gentleman in front of Charlie glanced at his notes, “Weasley, isn’t it?”
“Oh, uhm, yes. That’s me.” the red haired young man anxiously switched his rucksack from one shoulder to the other. He glanced around at the bustling lobby of the Romanian Ministry Building. “I’m excited to be here, as well. They say Romania is the place to be for Dragonology, I’m anxious to begin.” His gaze landed on a trio of witches a few feet away. Their attention was focused on a Wizard with a similar brooch on his robe to the gentleman speaking to Charlie, one that designated them as liaisons to foreign wizards. He wondered where they were from, and where they’d be staying. This reminded him of one question he had for the man welcoming him. “I do have one last thing to ask of you. The position listing mentioned lodging, but was hazy on the details of what would be provided…” He trailed off as his eyes met the gaze of one of the foreign witches, she offered a quick half smile, and turned back to her group.
“Ah, yes.” The man flipped through the brown folder he carried. “Of course you will be welcome to stay in the staff quarters near the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. Now the flats there are a bit small, and made for two people, so you may have a flatmate, but I can ensure you’re assigned to one if needed, though I can’t guarantee they’ll be on the same assignment as you are. There are a few other departments that use those quarters as well.”
“Yes, please, staying with someone else isn’t a problem with me at all!” Charlie beamed. He was well past the point of being embarrassed, and quite eager to leave the events of his time at Hogwarts behind. He longed to spend his life building his knowledge about dragons, and hoped to bridge the gap between wizard and animal kind. Having grown up in a large family with a small house, and then moving into the Gryffindor Dorms with 4 others, having a roommate was a non-issue for him. He was on his way to make his dreams a reality.
“Well, your portkey leaves in 3 hours, if you want, you may put what luggage you have into this cart, and we’ll have it for you at your destination! Here is the information you need about the location you’ll be staying, please feel free to explore all that we have to offer here in Romania. And again, we’re happy to have you here.”
“Thank you so much.” Charlie said, dropping his rucksack into the cart. He left the ministry building, and stepped into the rainy streets of Magical Bucharest.
Stepping out of a local Apothecary (after purchasing a few healing salves, he anticipated he would need), a small, sun tanned witch in a short black dress and tall black boots nearly bowled him over. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Morrigan Sworn, I’m such a clutz! My mama said I was born with noodles instead of legs!” her words flew as fast as her feet had, as she took note of the items that Charlie had dropped, “Oh here, let me grab those!” She grabbed the wet, but unharmed jars, and pressed them into Charlies hands. He hadn’t even had a chance to process what had happened, when the conversation moved on. “I’m Wren. It’s technically short for Katherine, but nobody calls me that. Wren Mason.” She spoke with an American accent, she swung a bag over her shoulder, and adjusted the fit of her dress, revealing lines of paler flesh where her skin had not seen quite as much sun as the rest of her. “Oh. Charlie. Charlie Weasley.”
“Rad! You’re from England, aren’t you? Did you go to Hogwarts?” She asked, eager to learn more about him.
“Uhm, yeah. I did. Sorted into Gryffindor, like the rest of my family. And you?”
“I went to Ilvermorny. I chose Thunderbird. But, My family is No-Maj, so I’m the first of my kind, as it were.” Charlie had so many questions, ‘Chose?’ ‘No-Maj?’ ‘Morrigan?’ he began to realize the scope of living outside of the English Magical Community. There was so much he didn’t understand, and he started to wonder if he would be able to fit himself into this new life.
Wren took a breath, looking slightly embarrassed, and continued on a bit slower. “Sorry, I talk a lot when I get nervous. But I recognize you from the Ministry, are you starting a project here, too?”
Charlie paused, smirking, “Yeah, actually, I’m hoping to be a Dragonologist, so I’ll be taking on some assignments at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. I’ll be staying in the housing nearby.” He said proudly.
“No way! Me too! Well, about the housing, not the dragon part. I’m actually planning on becoming a historian, and there are some amazingly interesting ruins and excavations in the area!”
The sounds of running, and shouts of “Wren! Wren!” interrupted their conversation, and two others who appeared to be the same age as Charlie and Wren came bounding up to them. “Where have you been?” one asked. Her braided hair thudded against her back as she stopped suddenly. The braids revealed streaks of blue and green, along with a dark brown that nearly matched the skin on her shoulders and collar bones. The bottoms of her blue jeans were dark from dragging in the rainy streets, though her light green sleeveless top was dry. “We’ve been looking for you since we left the bakery!” They reached into the pockets of their green cargo pants, and pulled out a small pastry bag. “Got you a Plăcintă cu mere” Wren’s face wrinkled in curiosity. “It’s vaguely like a cookie bar. It’s got apples in it, you like it, trust me.” Wren shrugged, and took the bag. “Hey guys. Let me introduce you to Charlie. This is Richelle, and Alex.” she indicated the two friends who joined them. “Charlie’ll be over at the Dragon Sanctuary.” She turned to address Charlie. Pointing to the friend who had given her the pastry, she said, “Alex is training to be an Apothecary. There’s a great program at the Sanctuary that focuses specifically on dragons and other magical creatures. Richelle is planning on being an Archivist at the library in the area. We’ll all be staying in the provided housing as well.”
“Which reminds me,” Richelle said pointing at the large clock affixed to the front of the bank across the street, “It’s great to meet you, but our portkey leaves very soon…”
Charlie glanced at the clock, and replied, “Mine does as well, do you mind if I walk back with you?” Richelle and Alex raised their eyebrows at Wren, who’s face betrayed a confused look as if wondering why they were deferring to her. Richelle answered, “Sure, no problem!”
The group made their way back to the Ministry Building, only to find that they would be using the same portkey to get to their flats. Alex and Richelle exchanged glances again, as Charlie sidled up next to Wren and placed a finger on the bent metal watering can in front of them. Soon, the watering can glowed blue, and Charlie felt a pull behind his naval. His insides felt as though they were stretching and pulling in on themselves, until all of a sudden, all four ended in a heap on the ground. “I do not travel by portkey enough to ever make that look graceful” Alex complained, as Wren pulled them to their feet. Charlie stood up, and offered a hand to Richelle, who took it gratefully, and stood quickly. “Thank You.” Richelle said, “I think that’s the housing building over there.” She said, pointing at a moderately sized squarish building in the center of what seemed to be a small town, similar to that of Hogsmeade. Charlie shielded his eyes from the sun and slow drizzle of rain that was still falling to get a good look at the area. There were small shops, a tavern, a grocery, places to buy potion supplies and books. More shops and offices seemed to go on after the housing building, but he couldn’t identify what they sold. His gaze settled on the large sanctuary, whose gated entrance was just outside of the town’s boundary. Charlie spoke up, “It was great traveling with you lot.” He said, shaking hands with each of them, “I’m going to go check out the Dragon Sanctuary, but I trust we’ll see each other again soon, yeah?”
“Absolutely. See you around!” Wren said, as the others laughed their goodbyes and made their way up the road.
The Sanctuary was massive, as Charlie had predicted, with different departments in different wings, each set to study different aspects of Dragonology. It reminded him of Hogwarts in only the best ways. He became more and more excited to begin. He knew his position would be menial at first, but he didn’t much care for that. He’d shovel dragon dung if it got him closer to his goal (and he was sure that’s EXACTLY what he would be doing.) After a couple of hours of exploration, the sun began to set, and he made his way back to the housing building to see how he’d be staying for the next few years.
The small wizard at the front desk took Charlie’s name and gave him his flat assignment and luggage, which had been delivered earlier that evening. As Charlie made his way up the stairs and down the hall, he wondered who his new flatmate would be, and how they would get along. His mind raced with the new possibilities. He checked the apartment number against the paper in his hand, and entered the flat.
There was nothing there.
Well, to be fair, there was a kitchen, a sitting area, a bathroom, and 2 doors that he assumed lead to the bedrooms, but there was no furniture, no cooking supplies. Somehow, Charlie had forgotten to ask about furniture and household necessities. He glanced around, looking for evidence of a roommate.
“Hello?” he called out into the barren apartment.
“Uhm, Hello?” came a response from one of the bedrooms. The door opened, and Wren emerged. “Oh! Charlie! Are we sharing a flat?”
“I guess we are,” Charlie said. He had mixed feelings about this. On one hand, he had enjoyed what company he had with Wren throughout the day, and thought they could be great friends. On the other hand, whenever Charlie had tried to grow a friendship with girls, (or women, he guessed he should start calling them, as they were of age, and out of school now,) it always had grown complicated when they developed feelings for him, and he ...did not.
“I don’t suppose you prepared for the...significant lack of anything useful?” Wren asked.
“I did not,” Charlie answered. “How long have you been here?”
“Not actually that long,” Wren said. “After you left, Richelle, Alex, and I went to explore the town. It’s cute, definitely has what we need, but...ah… I don’t exactly have enough money to get everything all at once.”
Charlie frowned, “Neither do I,” he muttered. “No Matter. Let’s make a list of the essentials, and then we’ll add to what we have gradually.”
“Agreed.” She nodded.
After they had made a list of what was immediately needed, Charlie and Wren left the flat to pick up what they could. They stopped at Richelle and Alex’s place, (they had been assigned the same flat), and discovering their apartment similarly empty, invited them along.
The four wizards wandered the streets lightly. “Imagine the luck that you two were assigned a flat together!” Alex had said at one point, their eyebrows raised, seeming to have a silent communication with Richelle and Wren.
“Luck, or alphabet?” asked Wren, shaking her head, but chuckling, “Seeing as you’re Alex Bennet, and Richelle’s last name is King.” She rolled her eyes, “Leaving Wren Mason and Charlie Weasley in the other flat.” She nudged Charlie, and nodded in their direction, “Though I don’t hear either of you complaining too much about it!”
And it was true, Richelle and Alex were holding hands as they walked a little ahead of Charlie and Wren. They eyed Charlie suspiciously, but if Charlie had noticed (which he had) he didn’t give any indication of caring (which he didn’t).
“There’s the shop we’re looking for!” Wren had pointed out a shop front with a faded red awning. The sign out front read “Craven and Erdi Consignments” and it seemed to be filled with the sort of things that one would indeed need to furnish a new house (as well as utterly useless trinkets and items) after about an hour, they all felt they had the bare essentials necessary to take them through until they were paid. Realizing just how late it was once they emerged from the store, they decided to get a small meal at the tavern, electing to shop for necessary groceries the next day.
As they took their seats, and ordered their portions of food, the four found themselves asking and answering questions about their past, and their respectively different schools. Charlie knew very little about the American wizarding school, only that it’s name was Ilvermorny, and that it was vaguely similar in that it had four houses, much like Hogwarts. Wren, Richelle, and Alex, similarly, knew only of Hogwarts’ name and it’s similar house structure. They regaled each other with stories of their younger adventures, and what their houses meant to them. Alex explained the sorting process at Ilvermorny, the statues, and the Gordian Knot, how their Native Ancestors traded magical knowledge with the co-founders and helped the school to flourish and grow. They talked of how their house, Pukwudgie, represented the heart of a witch or wizard, and generally favored Healers. Richelle told of how the school was founded by a witch and her No-Maj Husband. Charlie guessed that “No-Maj” was an American term for “Muggle”- one born without magic. She described her house, Horned Serpent, and described how it represented the mind of the Witch or Wizard, and how the house valued Scholars. Wren spoke of how every once in a while, more than one carving will try to select the same student, and that student will be able to choose. Wren went on to tell that she had been selected by both Horned Serpent and Thunderbird, and she chose Thunderbird, the house of Adventurers, representing the soul of the witch. Charlie, excited to be able to have something to talk about, explained how Gryffindor house valued bravery, and daring, was constantly at odds with Slytherin House. He went on to say that there were very few Dark Witches and Wizards that did not come out of Slytherin house, which was known for it’s focus on blood purity, and seemed to be proud of his family’s current status as “Blood Traitors” (which he still waved off as completely irrelevant, and indicated that no one actually cared, except those he had no desire pleasing). This information still seemed to put Wren at ease, considering, she revealed again, her parents were both No-Maj’s, and had been bracing herself for the prejudices of the European Magical Community.
The conversation continued through the night, and when they had had their fill, they walked back to the housing building, their furniture had already been deposited unceremoniously in their respective living rooms. Exhaustedly, Charlie and Wren used their wands to move their beds into each of their rooms, and closed the doors. Charlie fell onto his bed in a heap, almost debating the merits of changing into pajamas. Before he fell asleep, he recounted his day, the new friends Richelle and Alex (who he had discovered at dinner were very much dating). And Wren, the one girl he had ever met who seemed to actually just want to be friends. Finally.
Charlie had had several significant others throughout his time at Hogwarts, as many juveniles and teenagers were known to do. Unlike with most juveniles and teenagers, Charlie had never actually found himself desiring more with any of them. They were wonderful companions, and he even enjoyed being close, holding hands, or hugging and cuddling while they read or talked, but that was where Charlie was most comfortable stopping. He hadn’t understood when others talked about their needs or desires, or fawned over their classmates at school. He could recognize what would make another person attractive, had preferences for certain aesthetics in partners, but couldn’t quite make the connection from those feelings to that which his friends had described. He had no hunger or compulsion to become more intimate with anyone else, and this (he suspected early on) actually complicated things even more than the “normal” relationship woes of his classmates. The unrequited loves, the longing for more contact, he wished he could understand what they spoke of. His relationships failed spectacularly, almost all for the same reason, his lack of desire for the other person.
It was for this reason Charlie considered himself a loner, an outcast. Others may have seen him as a mysterious and coy object of their affections, but it took a long time for Charlie to stop seeing himself as merely broken, incorrectly made. Sometimes, he tried to “fix” this aspect of himself, in a “fake it ‘til you make it” kind of way. That never seemed to be the answer, however, and often complicated both friendships and relationships even more than just accepting his lack of this apparently common feeling. He resigned himself to a lonely life, filled with adventure and intrigue, but not of companionship and affection. Most times he was fine with this, but sometimes he allowed himself to admit that he did, indeed desire companionship, and even affection. He just didn’t want the physical intimacy that seemed to be expected to accompany them. Perhaps Wren, Richelle, and Alex would be those people for him.
Charlie awoke the next day to the smell of eggs, toast, and bacon. He emerged from the room and almost banged his knee on the pile of furniture still in the center of the room. Wren stood in the miniscule kitchen, a large T-Shirt fell almost completely over a short pair of pajama shorts. Her dark brown wavy hair fell just below her shoulders, and she wore a pair of dark, square shaped glasses. On her feet were two mismatched socks. She was swaying to a song only she could hear, and when she turned slightly, and noticed him, shirtless, in a faded pair of maroon pajama bottoms, she smiled a friendly smile.
“I ran down to the market and got some groceries, at least for breakfast and lunch.” She pointed to a plate. Two pieces of toast sat on the plate, with eggs sitting inside. A few strips of bacon sat on the side of the toast.
“I figured we should go back later for some staples that will hold us over until we each get paid.” She became flustered all of a sudden, “But you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to, or have somewhere else you want to be. I can just grab what we need.”
Charlie grabbed the plate and smirked, “I don’t have any plans for today. Except to make sense of this.” He waved his hand to indicate the furniture in the center of the room. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, though, It’s not like it’s a lot”
This was true. Between Charlie and Wren, they had only deemed it necessary to purchase two floor lamps, a comfortable, but well worn sofa, a large trunk that would serve as both storage and coffee table, their beds, some small shelves, and a mess of kitchen necessities. A few pots and pans, a cutting board, dishes, flatware and a single chopping knife had already been arranged in the kitchen area by Wren in order to make breakfast. Charlie took another look at the woman standing before him.
“You went to the market in your pajamas?” He asked, curiosity peaked.
Wren rolled her eyes, “Is this an embarrassment thing? You don’t get to be embarrassed by me.” She eyed him suspiciously, he almost recognized the look in her eyes, as one he wore many times. The look of “I hope you’re not starting to complicate things…”
Charlie smiled reassuringly, “Not in the slightest. It’s a ‘Thank Merlin I don’t have to try to impress you’ thing.”
Wren laughed, and wrinkled her nose, “Thank Merlin? Is that a thing here?”
“Yeah. Well, in Britain it is. Meanwhile, you’re just going to brush off ‘Morrigan Sworn’ as if everyone in the world says that?” He asked playfully. He finished his plate, and placed it near the sink. With a wave of his wand, the dish began to clean itself, and sat back down on the counter.
“I guess i never thought of it like that,” Wren said, finishing her own plate, and doing the same with her dish and the pan that breakfast had been made in. “The founder of Ilvermorny was named Isolt Sayre, but her nickname was Morrigan. I guess it makes sense that it really is just an Ilvermorny thing.”
Together, Wren and Charlie arranged the furniture in their living room, and set off to the market. They purchased food for the next few days, and explored the town in the light of day. Charlie showed Wren where the entrance of the Dragon Sanctuary, while she showed him the office of the historical society. “Of course,” she had said, “I probably won’t be doing anything particularly exciting for a bit. Lots of carrying and translating, and the like.” They moved on, and made their way back to the flat. They stopped to see what Richelle and Alex were up to, and found them just getting back from a similar excursion to get food and explore the town. The group made their way to Charlie and Wren’s flat, where they made a small but hearty dinner. They talked for hours, establishing a rapport with each other, and getting comfortable with each other.
The days passed much the same during that first year in Romania. Charlie was right to assume that for much of that time, he primarily had been assigned menial labor. Shoveling dung, inventory of necessary items and the like, however, by the end of the year, he had began to be entrusted to work directly with the Dragons under the direct care of the Sanctuary. Caring for those that were being actively rehabilitated, or were not able to be released at all was one of Charlie’s favorite jobs to begin with. They afforded him the ability to study, up close and personal the many amazing things that were so integral to the development of a dragon.
His parents and younger sister, Ginny, came to visit that Christmas, and though his mother, Molly, seemed to have something she wished to say about the young American woman that Charlie shared a flat with, her tan having faded in the Autumn to Winter months, sporting some new tattoos (a latin phrase on her right shoulder, and her astrological sign -Gemini on her left) there was not much she could mention. The housing had been assigned, and both had their own separate, very lived in bedrooms. Despite her attempts to surreptitiously convince one of them to admit they were together, neither did so, and both her husband, Arthur, and 10 year old Ginny reminded her even after they had left that nothing that Charlie OR Wren had ever said or did indicated that they were anything more than roommates or good friends. As such, exactly as Charlie had predicted to Wren once his family had left, they entirely forgot to badger him about the subject (Charlie had a sneaking suspicion that was due to his brother, Ron’s new controversial best friend, Harry Potter.)
Wren’s time at work was also spent, as predicted, doing mostly office work, which left her anxious to do new and exciting things when she clocked out for the night. Sometimes the foursome would go out explore the surrounding countryside, though most often they stayed in, eager to save as much of their paychecks as they could for the day when housing from the Romanian Ministry would no longer be free (Which would come at 1 year after they moved in). This is the reason that when Charlie received an owl from his youngest brother, Ron, that someone at Hogwarts had hatched a baby dragon, Wren was almost beside herself with excitement.
“Of course you’ve got to go! And I’m going with you!” she exclaimed, snatching up her small satchel, and searching for her boots.
“Now wait a minute, wait a minute. We can’t just leave now…” Charlie laughed, silently admiring her adventurous spirit. “Hagrid won’t even know we’re coming. Besides, have you ever BEEN to Britain before?”
“No. I haven’t. But who cares? We wouldn’t be staying, we’ve both got work in the morning!”
“And that’s another thing, work! He exclaimed, “Besides, is it really a good idea to just take an illegal dragon off of someone’s hands in the dead of night?”
Wren thought for a second, “No, I suppose it’s not. But we’re both free on Saturday this week. Promise that you won’t go without me I’m dying for some excitement!” She nudged him playfully from her perch on the arm of the sofa.
Charlie laughed, and then sighed. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll talk to Moldovan tomorrow, and see if we can take it in. Should we ask Richelle and Alex if they want to join us?”
“Absolutely, what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t offer them this once in a lifetime experience?”
Unfortunately, Richelle and Alex had already planned to go back to America to visit their families that weekend, so gallivanting off to Hogwarts was a no-go for them.
“But tell us, Charlie, is Hogwarts usually this exciting?” Richelle teased.
Charlie brushed his hair out of his face. “Honestly, yeah, at least, for my family.” He explained the events of his years at Hogwarts, including searching for cursed vaults, the death of his friend, Rowan, and the terrible organization known as “The Cabal.” Richelle and Alex gasped appropriately at all the right places, and patted his arm reassuringly when he spoke of Rowan. He also recounted how his youngest brother seemed to have gotten himself mixed up with Harry Potter, and that he suspected that there was more to the story of the dragon egg that Ron was not telling him, whether it was through intentional omission, or just the ignorance of an adolescent.
But that had brought up the whole question as to how much Richelle, Alex, and Wren knew about Harry Potter, You Know Who, and the circumstances of the first Wizarding War. Charlie was both comforted and anxious to learn that they knew quite a bit. That Voldemort had sympathizers all over the world.
“Of course,” Alex had said, “The ones in America were a bit more...hidden as it were by then.”
Richelle nodded, “Yes, Ilvermorny was co-founded by a No-Maj, so many that come from the school have at least a tolerance for the American No-Maj community,”
“And yet, more than you would think continue to bring up the subject of blood purity.” Wren had interjected.
Alex looked at her apologetically, “Yes, I suppose you would have felt more of that than we would. I’m sorry, Wren.”
But Wren did not seem to be offended by Alex’s words. “We all had our own battles to fight against during school, and even now.” She indicted back to Alex, “I’ve certainly seen what people have to say when they’ve decided you don’t fit perfectly into their gendered labels, and when they see you and Richelle together. Or being darker skinned than many of the people we encounter,”
Richelle put her hand on Alex’s leg, “Or having your culture deemed barbaric in one century, and then trendy and ripe for cherry picking the next,”
“We’ve all faced obstacles to get here,” Wren said, “But we’ll keep fighting if we have to, especially against Dark Magic, and Blood Purists.”
Charlie nodded. He could feel something changing in him, he felt uneasy, and unsure why, but he resolved to be an even better friend to these witches, who had fought so hard to just be allowed to exist. He didn’t know how he would do that, but he was sure that the more he listened, the more he’d learn, and that would have to be a good start.
That Saturday, Charlie and Wren prepared to catch their portkey to Hogsmeade. It had been relatively easy to acquire, and they planned to make a day of it. They would explore the town, for the day, and then meet up with Hagrid to take in the baby dragon at nightfall. Charlie was excited to show Wren the school where he almost grew up, the small village where he spent his weekends, and the forest where he had so many adventures. He hoped she would love the places as much as he did, and was surprised to find himself feeling a bit nervous that she might not. He pushed the thought from his head, and reminded himself of her penchant for adventure, and her more recent desire to do something besides work, and go back to their flat. He didn’t blame her. He felt the same way. Their flat was wonderful. It was comfortable, homey, and interesting still in all the best ways. But it was not the adventure he had always been seeking.
“Ready to get going?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What? Oh. Yes. Absolutely.” He got up, made sure that his wand and his small rucksack were packed and ready to go. As they left the flat, they met up with Richelle and Alex.
“Hey, do you still have room for two on your trip to Hogwarts today?” Richelle asked?
Alex explained, “My parents wound up with tickets to see Celestina Warbeck, and Richelle’s mom is abroad, I think somewhere in Canada.” Richelle nodded.
“Heck yeah,” Wren exclaimed, “We made sure the portkey was set for at least 4, just in case!”
“We were hoping you guys would be able to come along,” Explained Charlie.
They made their way to the spot the portkey first dropped them a few months earlier, and found the old garden trowel on the ground. They sat down and waited a few minutes for it to glow, and were soon standing in front of the post office in Hogsmeade village. It was around 11 a.m. and they elected to make their way into the Three Broomsticks. Charlie waved to Rosmerta, and they sat down at a comfortable table.
Alex looked at him, “Alright, Charlie, tell us about this place. It’s cozy and all, but it’s not particularly exceptional… Is it the memories here that make it worth visiting?”
Charlie chuckled a bit, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” He said, turning his gaze to the window next to them, “We would get permission once a month to visit Hogsmeade when I was in school. We’d come, visit the shops, stop in here at the Three Broomsticks, or if you were particularly courageous, the Hog’s Head. Then there’s the Shrieking Shack if you’re VERY courageous. He winked at Wren. No one knows what goes on in there. It’s supposed to be the most haunted building in Britain!”
Wren’s eyes lit up, “you don’t say!” and with that, the doors to the tavern opened, and a host of children in Hogwarts robes entered.
Charlie’s eyes grew wide. He hadn’t realized it would be a Hogsmeade weekend. The one thing he didn’t count on was the prospect of running into one of his brothers. The twins, Fred and George were fine, but Percy...Percy would definitely tell mum that Charlie had been in Britain, and hadn’t visited. And then, he’d have to explain Ron’s letter. Initially, he thought he’d be able to just get the dragon from Ron under the guise of being one of his own friends, visiting, and have Wren do the talking. Ron wouldn’t say anything, even if he recognized Charlie, but now...this was slightly concerning.
His reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone in the group.
“Everything ok, Charlie?” Richelle asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, I just hadn’t realized it was a Hogsmeade weekend at the school. He explained his predicament to his friends, who were, blessedly, on board with laying low.
“No problem at all.” Said Wren mischievously, “Why don’t we go check out that Shrieking Shack?”
Charlie lead the way up to the path that would bring them to the Shrieking Shack, Richelle, Alex and Wren close behind. When they arrived, they looked out at the deserted building.
“I’m honestly surprised it’s still standing,” commented Richelle, peering over the fence.
Wren, however, was already at the gate, ready to push it open.
“Maybe not the best idea,” Alex warned. “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping a low profile?”
Wren frowned, “But, it’s the MOST haunted house in Britain! Why wouldn’t you want to get a closer look?”
Richelle sighed fondly, “Because if it’s NOT actually haunted, and we’re caught, then we’re in deep for no reason. Look at it, does it really seem haunted, or just decrepit?”
That argument seemed to have worked well enough, as Wren took her hand off the gate and turned around. They came to a clearing near the forest, and Richelle conjured a blanket to sit on. Alex laid across Richelle’s lap, and Wren flopped down next to Charlie.
“So, Charlie, tell us more about Hogsmead trips. What’s the Hog’s Head? What else is there to do here, besides look at a haunted house and drink some butterbeer?” Wren asked.
Charlie took a breath, and told them all about Zonko’s Joke Shop, a few of the interesting shops in the village, and the odd circumstances surrounding the owner of the Hog’s Head.
“And then there’s Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. That’s pretty much the go to place to take a special someone on a date.”
“What!?” Richelle said incredulously, “You took us out here to the Shrieking Shack when we could have gone on a date to Madame Puddifoot’s Tea Shop!?” The playful sarcasm dripped from her voice, and Alex swatted her leg.
“How many special someone’s did you take there Charlie? Was it tons?”
Charlie smiled charismatically, “Now that you mention it…” He pretended to start counting on his fingers, “I’m only joking, I’ve gone on a few dates there before, but as evidenced by my lack of a significant other, none of them panned out well enough.”
“What!? No!” Wren exclaimed in mock surprise. The rest of the group laughed comfortably. There was little to do in Romania but read the paper and talk, so they had become quite comfortable with each other, and had quickly become the sort of friends that he had hoped he’d make after the events of his final few years at Hogwarts. After the death of his friend, Rowan, Charlie had to be convinced to even return to finish school. He withdrew into himself, and he was glad to be able to open up again.
“Charlie, you say that these woods are called ‘The Forbidden Forest,’ yeah? Why is that? Are they dangerous?” Alex asked, cautiously.
He took a breath in, and started a story he had never told to anyone before. “Well,” he began, “Yes, sort of. There’s a lot going on in there. Many fantastic beings and creatures make their home in the Forbidden Forest, Centaurs, Werewolves, Acromantula. They say there’s Unicorns, and Thestrals, as well. It’s also a good hideout for...selfish, and evil people. Those who like to do their shady business under the cover of night. But that being said, I spent a lot of time in those woods while I was at Hogwarts. I admit, I was truly hoping to discover a dragon there, though I never did.”
“That all sounds so interesting.” Wren sighed, “I never thought I’d learn so much about Hogwarts, besides that our school was modeled after it.”
“Was it?” asked Charlie, “I never knew that.”
“Yes,” said Richelle, “One of the founders, Isolt Sayre, had heard stories of Hogwarts, before she was hunted by her blood purist Aunt, and fled to Massachusetts. Initially it was a small shack with 2 teachers, and two students. But word got out that they were teaching magic, and more and more students began to show up.”
“The initial students were of Indigenous tribes in the area,” Alex continued, “They traded knowledge of wandless magic for training in wandwork.”
“Hang on,” Charlie said, surprised, “Wandless magic? I realize it’s been known to happen, but you lot were trained in it?”
“Oh yeah,” Alex went on, “Wands were a European invention. Of course, wandless magic is tricky, and volatile, so students at Ilvermorny are primarily trained in wandwork.”
“Grindelwald was particularly good at it,” Wren said darkly. And then her demeanor changed suddenly, “But, I’m starving. Any chance one of the places to eat are free of Weaselys?” She smirked at Charlie, “But I’m not setting foot in that Puddifoot’s. Let no one misconstrue this as a weird 4 person date.
They all laughed, and Charlie said, “Yeah, we’re probably safe at the Hog’s Head”
The group walked to the Hog’s Head Inn, and ordered their food. Soon, it was almost midnight, and time to make their way up to the castle. “Hope you all like brooms,” Charlie said, after they left Spintwitches with their own second hand brooms. “We can’t Apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts, and walking out with an illegal dragon is not going to look good on my upcoming evaluation at the sanctuary.”
Richelle, Wren, and Alex, laughed, “We’re fine,” said Alex, “We actually each played Quidditch for our house teams. That’s how we met.”
“Really? I was captain of the Gryffindor Team” Charlie exclaimed, beaming.
“Well aren’t you fancy,” Richelle teased.
They kicked off, and followed Charlie to the Astronomy tower, hovering slightly when they got there, as there seemed to be a teacher and a student that were definitely NOT who they were there to meet with.
“What position did you play?” Richelle whispered, partly to pass the time, and partly to keep her nerves in check. She was decidedly NOT as adventurous as Charlie and Wren, and this minor stray from the plan seemed to have thrown her off slightly.
“Seeker,” Charlie replied, “What about you?”
“Alex and I were Chasers. Wren was a beater.”
“Nice. My brothers, Fred and George are beaters. Heard Harry Potter is the Gryffindor seeker this year.”
“That’s pretty impressive. Isn’t he only 11?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Oh, hold on…” He peered into the tower, “I think that’s them.”
They landed in the tower, and, as discussed, Wren spoke out, “Hello there! Are you Ron’s Friends?” Charlie had expected Ron to be there, but he only saw a small young witch, and a boy with messy hair, glasses, and an unmistakable lightning scar on his forehead.
“Yes, yes we are,” Harry replied cautiously.
“Alright, then, I guess we better get a move on!” Richelle and Alex showed the two children the harness they had rigged to carry the crate between the four of them. The box jumped and bounced along, small growls echoing from inside. After they had secured the crate, they bid goodbye, and flew off.
They returned home early sunday morning, exhausted, and exhilarated from their adventure. Charlie brought the Norwegian Ridgeback to his mentor at the sanctuary, who, luckily asked no questions about the matter. Afterwards, he barely made it home before collapsing on his bed.
In the upcoming months, they had few nights as exciting as this one, and Charlie and Wren began to fall into a comfortable sort of existence. They shared the sofa more often than not, even though they had picked up two plush armchairs to go along with it, Wren frequently leaning across the whole seat, usually with her legs across Charlie’s lap as they read books, or the paper, or letters from home. Towards summer, they spoke of mounting unrest in the magical community as a whole. It was a subtle change, really, and anyone who wasn’t muggle born, or who cared for one who was probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but still, there was just a little bit more open contempt for them. More loud jokes at the expense of Muggleborn, more instances of hearing the derogatory word “Mudblood” were heard in passing. It was barely noticeable, but it came just in line with Ron’s account from his first year at Hogwarts, of Giant Chess matches, and the Philosopher’s Stone, of the mysterious death of his Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, and the worrisome idea of an encounter with the Dark Lord
“Something is coming,” he said one day, seemingly out of the blue, “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not good, and it won’t be quick.”
Wren looked up, “You feel it, too, huh? I can’t put my finger on what or why, but I feel like everything is going to change, very soon…”