Chapter Three
Pansy ran into Elena in the kitchen that following morning, hard at work and covered in flour. Despite her efforts in resisting, Pansy reached for one of the apple tarts presented on the counter, popping it into her mouth. This was the first time she had tried one of Elena’s tarts, and her eyes immediately flicked to the older woman in slight disbelief.
“Elena! These are bloody amazing.” Her mouth was full of course, another blatant example of her proper upbringing.
Elena beamed at the praise, her round face glowing. Her hands never stopped their work on the tarts, kneading the dough and coating them with butter before popping another tray into the oven.
“Thank you, Pansy! I made them with the last of your uncle’s Romanian Sunshines. They make for the best tarts.” Elena hadn’t looked up, but Pansy watched her in slight bewilderment.
“So, my uncle told you about his hybrid apples?” She plopped down in one of the chairs at the table, taking another bite of the apple tart. Elena wiped her hands on her apron, turning her gaze to Pansy fully for the first time.
“Of course, dear. He would go on and on about them. It was getting him to stop talking about them that was the trick.” Pansy actually giggled, but she didn’t allow it to show for long. She still didn’t like the woman, though she hated her less. “He was so proud of his work.” Elena’s eyes appeared distant then, as if she was lost in another time. Pansy tried to offer her a comforting smile, despite the physical awkwardness when she pulled her lips upward. She could only hope it looked more genuine than it felt. Elena removed her apron and sat across Pansy at the table. “You know, I had always hoped you’d come. Your uncle had always said such nice things.” She smiled, the lines on her face showing it was something she did often, though her eyes were proof she hadn’t in some time. “He never did do your beauty justice though.”
Pansy was startled at the comment as Elena stood up again to continue her work. She knew she was beautiful, obviously. Pansy fucking Parkinson was nothing short of gorgeous in her own eyes, but it was nice hearing it from someone else.
“How does that work, exactly?” Pansy was fidgeting with her nails. Elena peered over her shoulder, a wash rag in her hand. “The part about what to tell you and what not to. With magic I mean.”
She hadn't meant to stumble in her words but she was genuinely curious. There she was, in a country with a trace on her wand yet her uncle dove head first into muggle territory with an orchard full of magic infused apples. None of it made sense. Elena contemplated her question, packing up the last of the batch of tarts into another mint green box before turning to face her completely. She leant against the counter.
“I’m surprised you haven’t inquired on this sooner, Pansy.” The older woman smiled at her. “There was much to explain as you can imagine. Although legally he wasn’t allowed to tell me anything until we were married.”
“And how long were you together before you married?”
“Some two years or so.” Elena closed her eyes, and Pansy imagined she was reminiscing of the time her uncle was still alive, courting the woman before her. She almost grinned at the thought.
“So you never suspected anything?”
“Well, your uncle was a very private man. Marriage never changed that. And before I came along he had two loves and two loves only. This orchard and you.” Pansy met the woman’s eyes, catching the purity within them. There was no jealousy as Pansy held onto, but something else entirely and Pansy shrugged it away, blinking the tingling sensation behind her eyes.
“He was the father I’d wish I had until-” Pansy paused, flicking her eyes away from the other woman and clearing her throat. “So, what is the story with these apple tarts? You just hold up in this kitchen all day or?”
Pansy was notoriously cunning in changing topics. Her father had called it good business sense; her uncle called it deflection. She sided with her father on this one.
“It’s an old family recipe. I suppose I got lucky marrying a man with an orchard, yeah?” Pansy gave a half hearted laugh in response. She didn’t see it as luck at all. “Well, it was my tarts that hooked him I think. We had met at the bakery in town where I used to work. I would make them special just for him.” Elena once again lost herself in her youth. Pansy, scrunching her nose, tried to keep her face neutral - and was failing.
“How does one make an apple tart exactly?”
It was something she actually cared little to know, but Pansy was resisting the urge to tug her ear with the overload of sugar in this kitchen that had nothing to do with the baked treats. Elena perked up.
“I could show you, if you’d like. I had hoped-” Elena trailed off only to present Pansy with a matching apron. “Come. Let’s get started.”
The baking ammensed over the course of the next several hours, Pansy following Elena’s lead in a grueling and slow process until she finally began getting the hang of it. She was surprised at the amount of laughs the two shared, and the number of memories that spilled over like the batter in Pansy’s bowl. It was nice, if not needed. For both of them. Pansy still didn’t like the woman, but it was comforting to know there was someone other than herself who understood the pain behind her loss.
When they had finished, they had enough tarts to feed half the village - or simply a few dozen. They were all boxed up and tied with little black bows.
“I suppose I should take some of these up to the bakery. They pay a decent penny for them.” Elena removed her apron and put the kettle on. Pansy licked the last of the apple filling from her finger.
“I could take them. I need some space anyway, seeing how the orchard is typically overrun with idiots or an idiot I should say.” Pansy mostly said that second part to herself, but she could see Elena to her side grinning.
“I would like that,” she chose to ignore the comment about Charlie. “Before you go, there is something I’ve been meaning to apologize for.”
This piqued Pansy’s interest.
“Oh?”
“That mattress up there is a bit unruly, but I do hope it isn’t too troublesome.”
Pansy felt her eye twitch. She hated that mattress, and the rush of complaints involving it came to the front of her mind. Yet, all Pansy could think about was getting those blasted tarts to the bakery, so she shrugged it off and smiled instead.
“It’s loud, but I’ll manage.” Elena started loading some of the tarts into a basket. Pansy groaned. An extension charm would do wonders in this situation. “Can you bring the car around?”
“Oh, Pansy. I’m afraid the only ride I have to offer you is my trusted old bike.” Another twitch befell Pansy’s left eye, but she scooped up the large basket of tarts anyway, following Elena out the dutch door to an old rusted bike leaning against the siding of the house. “She’s old, but sturdy. The village isn’t far. You sure you don’t want me to go?”
“It’s fine. Really.” Pansy waved Elena off, setting the basket in the front of the bike. She swung her leg over, straddling the seat and kicking off with confidence. Unfortunately for Pansy, she hadn’t actually ridden a bike before, so she wobbled and jerked down the narrow drive. She saw Elena waving goodbye to her back from the faded side mirror. She clung onto the handle bars for dear life as she struggled down the street.
The wind was blowing in the opposite direction, causing Pansy’s hair to constantly smack her in the face. She didn’t anticipate the weather to be so breezy, the rusted pale, old bike cold to the touch, but there she was. The ride from the cottage to the nearby village was not just around the corner as Elena claimed, but a gruelling fifteen minute bike ride.
There was nothing smooth about the ride, one of the wheels causing her to bounce from being bent somewhere, and the cracks in the seat created a less than pleasant pinch to the left cheek of her bum. She pedaled and groaned and whined the entirety of those fifteen minutes, until she slowly came to the front of what she could only imagine to be the bakery as the sign held a rather cliche muffin displayed on the window pane. Pansy was less than impressed.
In the worst attempt to park her bike, Pansy managed to run over her foot, improperly stop the bike in time before slamming it into a curb, and broke off the kickstand, toppling the bike to the side - twice. Luckily, however, she had already plucked the packaged tarts from the basket and hooked the handle on her arm for safer travel.
She watched as the bike fell to the ground beside the bike rack and peered about to ensure no one saw. The street was empty aside from a few muggles down the street huddled outside a stucco building. Music poured out every so often when the door creaked open. Pansy wondered what the time was for such an establishment to be booming so early in the day, then again she didn’t anticipate much else to do in a village such as this.
She ignored them, setting her gaze to the bakery behind her. When she popped inside, the ringing of the bell over the door welcomed her. A plump woman with yellow hair greeted her behind the counter.
“Something I can get you?”
“Actually I have these apple tarts here for you. Elena sent me?” The plump woman’s cheeks shined, and she breathed in with gleeful surprise.
“You can’t be Perseus’s niece? Look at you! A lot older than I imagined you. Oh, I am sorry for your loss.”
Pansy tried to hide the sneer. She appreciated the courtesy but people weren’t her forte. She awkwardly set half of the tarts from her basket onto the counter and stood, waiting for what Elena had previously called a pretty penny. Neither women moved, both staring at one another in a lingered silence. That is, until, the shirtless wonder appeared to her right.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Hello to you too, Pansy.” Charlie gave a wave. His eyes flicked to the tarts on the counter, then to the woman behind it. “Apologies for Ms Pansy here, Mrs Swallow. Ladies such as this one tend to have hired help for simple tasks such as delivering tarts.” He gave her a quick wink. “If you could add that to Elena’s account, we’d be much obliged.”
The woman, who she now knew as Mrs Swallow, nodded and took the tarts into her possession. Charlie guided Pansy from the bakery before she had a proper opportunity to argue.
“Get your hands off me, Charlie! I came here for payment.”
“Look, there is a way we do things here that-”
“What, muggle things?” Pansy half shrilled, she wasn’t particularly keen on being dragged out by the sleeve of her jumper. Charlie placed a hand over her mouth.
“Mind keeping it down a bit with the muggle talk?”
Pansy jerked her arm from Charlie’s hold, who had lingered his touch longer than she might of liked. She hated to agree, but he may of had a point about calling muggles, well muggles, out loud.
“If you’re finished with the lectures, I’ll be off. Surely you have someone else in this blasted village to annoy!”
He watched her struggle to pick up the bike, the basket still clinging on her arm. She jerked the bike to one side as she climbed onto it, pedaling unsteadily for a short time before running into a post box. She could hear Charlie laughing behind her, which only fueled her desire to flee faster. If only the laces of her trainers didn’t snag the front wheel. She groaned as she leant down to retrieve it from its tangled hold.
“Need a lift?” Charlie was standing over her, and Pansy dragged her eyes up to his face. His hands were on his hips, and he held a stupid grin. “I’ve got a truck.” He pointed to a rusted red pickup truck across the street at the meter. Pansy gave an audible huff.
“No, Charlie , I don’t need a ride. I’m perfectly capable of getting back on my own.” Naturally, it was at this moment her body chose to fall on her bum when she attempted to push off again.
“Oh, sure. Looks like you have everything under control.” Charlie’s mockery did not go unnoticed. “You made it a whole two kilometers that time before falling.”
“Go away , Charlie!”
“Do you always enjoy viewing the world from the ground up? Or is this your way of enjoying Romania’s sights?”
Pansy had never imagined she would miss the nauseating pull of apparation as much as she did now. She swore she was growling at this point, but jerked the bike upright and walked alongside it, pulling it by the handle bars.
“Why am I not surprised you’d choose mockery over manners, Charlie? Is it so impossible to act like a gentleman? I’ve had quite enough of you for one day, thank you.”
“Impossible? Did I not just offer you a ride?” Pansy opened to rebut, but stumbled just enough for Charlie to continue. “I hadn’t realized ladies were taught to be so stubborn. Now, get in the truck.” He scooped the bike up with one hand and walked it over, tossing it in the back.
Pansy was left standing next to the sidewalk, stomping an untied trainer and holding the basket of remaining tarts.
“Give me back my bike!” Charlie had walked back over to Pansy, allowing her to shout and curse as he took the basket from her hands. She let out an exaggerated gasp, but before she was able to argue further Charlie had bent down and hauled her over his shoulder.
Pansy kicked and flailed as he took her across the street, setting her down after opening the passenger door. She had her finger pointed at his face, shouting something about being a barbarian as he lowered her into the car by placing his hand over her face.
“Buckle up!” He said, leaning over and fastening her inside. Pansy crossed her arms and turned her face toward the window. She had her lip stuck out in the largest of pouts.
She eventually gave up though, watching the fields and mountains go by as Charlie drove her down the road. When he passed the drive to her uncle’s cottage, however, she spoke up again.
“So we can add kidnapper to your long list of disappointing traits, now?”
“Calm down. I figured you could use a break from muggle life.” The truck was bumpy, and Charlie’s arm flexed as he changed gears. Pansy wasn’t entirely sure what he had meant.
“I can’t use my wand, genius. They put a trace on it.” Charlie let out a booming laugh.
“Seriously? Well that explains a few things. Well, don’t worry. Once your uncle’s will comes in, they will likely remove it. It’s just a precaution.” He tucked off the main road, driving down an uneven path of dirt. After awhile, Pansy felt the calming sensation of wards.
“Where are we, Charlie?”
“Welcome to my domain. The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.” As if on some sort of que, two dragons emerged over the hill in full flight, tumbling and flying together. Pansy’s eyes were wide. She hadn’t seen many dragons up close before. Sure her father had dealt with clients who carried dragon eggs through Knockturn, but that wasn’t something you generally spoke about, and she highly doubted Charlie would have been amused.
“Huh, so the beasts Elena mentioned. She meant dragons?”
“Actually no.” Charlie parked the truck next to an old white stucco building. “The sanctuary never came up in conversation.”
“Wait a second. So, you’re telling me these dragons are here yet no one in this area has seen them?” Muggles can’t be this stupid.
“You felt the wards, right? Muggles can’t see them. In fact, similar wards were in place at the orchard before your uncle-” Charlie looked away. “Sorry.”
She chose to ignore Charlie’s insensitive slip, having a few questions of her own. “Have they flown over the orchard before?”
“There are barriers where you’d be able to see them in parts but, we tend to keep a close watch on them.” Charlie clapped his hands together, tossed her a wink, then removed himself from the truck. Pansy followed suit, already knowing he wouldn’t open the door for her - the barbarian.
“Charlie! You get my scones?” A handsome man with smooth dark skin and spiked hair approached them by the truck. He noticed Pansy for the first time and flashed a smile. “Well, forgive me. I did not know there was a beautiful woman present.”
“Charmed.” Pansy was, in fact, charmed and held out her hand for him to take. She flipped her hair, giving one of her signature moves she would pull back in London. “I’m Pansy.”
“Beautiful like the flower. I’m Noah. The pleasure is mine.” He kissed the hand she presented, and she cocked her head to give Charlie a smirk. To her surprise, he had a less than pleasant expression.
“Alright, alright. You’ve made your pleasantries.”
“Excuse me, Charles, but just because you haven’t a gentlemanly bone in your body doesn’t mean you can deny others to present theirs.” Pansy had crossed her arms, meeting Charlie’s blue eyes. She swallowed, the fire in his gaze setting flame to her stomach. She shook her head to ignore it, looking back over to Noah with a smile.
“It’s quite alright, Pansy. I have to be off anyway. New Chinese Firebolt litter just hatched. Just came up to get my scones Charlie promised.” Noah clapped his hands together expectantly. Charlie groaned, tossing his head back.
“I forgot the bloody scones.”
“I’ve got some extra tarts?” Pansy spoke up before she could stop herself, but was happy she did because the response was instantaneous.
“You are as lovely and giving as the sun in spring. Isn’t she, Charlie?”
“Oh, sure, she’s a peach.” He accepted the box from Noah, who had taken a tart out for himself. “You sure you should be giving all of Elena’s tarts away?”
“If you must know, I made these.” Charlie’s eyebrows shot up.
“Did you now?”
“C’mon mates! Breakfast!” Noah flashed her a pleasant wink. Pansy could have blushed.
It was like she had opened the door to the heavens, dragon trainers and healers alike poured out of the building to taste Pansy’s tarts. She was starting to understand the appeal of Elena’s long days in the kitchen. She peered over to Charlie so she could boast from the attention, but he appeared indifferent overall. It wasn’t until the last of her tarts had been eaten did Charlie steal her away.
He led her towards one of the nearby nests, hatchlings running and nipping at one another. Pansy nervously assessed the area, fearful of the mother’s unknown location.
“Don’t worry. These common welshes were imported so, no mama dragon to worry about.” Pansy ignored how he was able to read her mind. It was obviously due to his expertise in all things dragon and not at all because she reflected fear outwardly on her expression.
He hopped down, allowing one of the green beasts to climb up his arm. He motioned for Pansy to follow. Pansy had quite literally hoped when Charlie had told her she would be around magic that she could stretch her arm with a wand. Playing with baby dragons was most certainly not the first thing she had considered. It was though, really cute perched up in Charlie’s arms, so she closed the distance between them.
“This little girl here is Vera. Her litter was rescued from poachers.” Pansy pet the dragon’s head and tickled it’s chin. “Careful with that! You don’t want to-”
The dragon sneezed, causing the tiniest of fire balls to cough out from the dragon’s mouth. Luckily for Pansy, the dragon had more manners than Charlie and had turned its head. It did snag her finger though. She winced, doing her best not to drop Vera to the ground. Charlie scooped her up and set her back down.
“Here, let me have a look at that.” He had tugged his wand, but the burn was minimal. Still, he held her hand firmly in his, inspecting the tip of her index finger. Pansy swallowed hard, feeling her bottom lip curl beneath her teeth as she watched Charlie attempt to nurse her back to health. He kissed her finger lightly, neither fully understanding it had happened until he dropped her hand and Pansy jerked back. “Should be fine, just a bit sensitive for a day or so.”
“So! Dragons. What sort of things does one do around here?” Pansy pinched her finger from holding it too long, causing a tiny sting to emerge. She immediately placed it in her mouth, sucking the pain away. She met Charlie’s gaze, remembering this same finger was just touched by his lips literally a moment before so she yanked it out, hoping Charlie didn’t see. He most certainly did. Grinning, he motioned to follow him further onto the grounds.
“There is a lot more I think you’d enjoy.” Charlie clearly had more faith in her likes and dislikes than she did, but she entertained him by following his steps into a wooded side of the sanctuary. After all, the feel of magic in the air was comforting.
He guided her through the grounds, showing her his favorite places and educating her on the different dragons they held at the sanctuary. She could tell he was truly passionate about his work, proud of the way the dragons responded to his touch and commands. Pansy stayed back overall, observing the red headed beast in his natural habitat. She was surprised when he offered to take her home, losing hours of the day to laughter and easy conversation. She hadn’t noticed the sun had began to descend until they made it back to the truck, climbing inside so he could drive to the cottage.
It was a short drive, but Pansy didn’t miss the way her mouth refused to curl anywhere but upward. She waved goodnight to Charlie, then inside to Elena before climbing the stairs to her room and sinking into bed where her mattress screeched her to sleep.