Charlie sat on the bench, leash in hand, waiting. The day was bright and sunny, the bright blue sky only occasionally dotted with clouds. A soft breeze kept it from being too warm. If Charlie closed his eyes, leaned back, and breathed deep, he could almost imagine he was back in Romania on the dragon reserve instead of in a park in Scotland.
Even with his eyes closed, he recognized the footsteps approaching. And he smiled. “Good to see you, Neville.”
“See me? You can’t see a thing right now.” Neville’s lips touched Charlie’s cheek. Neville’s body pressed up against Charlie’s side. And Neville’s hand slid onto Charlie’s thigh, teasingly close to something that couldn’t be touched out here in the open a public park.
Charlie opened his blue eyes to see Neville looking adoringly at him.
“I believe proper introductions are in order?”
A nod meant Charlie agreed. He stuck out his free hand. “I’m Charlie Weasley, newest employee of the Protection of Magical Creatures squad at the Ministry of Magic.”
Neville took of proffered hand and shook it. “Good to meet you, Sir. I’m Neville Longbottom, Herbology Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and head of Gryffindor House. And this is…?” He pulled his hand from Charlie’s and gestured downward. A small, albino bloodhound lay at Charlie’s feet.
“Wood.”
A laugh burst from Neville before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry?”
“Wood. After Oliver Wood of Puddlemere United.”
“Ah. I forgot about you naming your pets after Quidditch players. I remember Roddy and Vlad.”
Nodding, “I miss them. But Wood’s good for filling the loneliness.”
Neville snorted with laughter, clapping his hand to his nose and mouth. “Do you know how that sounds, Char?”
“Like I’ve been missing you fiercely?”
“Aw.” Neville leaned forward, and Charlie kissed his cheek. Neville offered his hand and the dog snuffled at it, apparently expecting a treat and getting only new smells. The dog started licking Neville’s hand, giving kisses of his own. They started out sweet enough, but after a while, Neville’s hand was nearly dripping. “Hey, that’s enough!” The dog didn’t stop.
“He’s deaf,” Charlie said. “Just pull your hand away. He’ll get the picture. He’s smart, this one. Won’t respond to verbal commands, so he’s no good in the unit for hunting nogtails, but that’s no reason he can’t have fun with me.”
Neville’s heart leapt. He knew how much Charlie loved animals, but he’d forgotten how much Charlie loved animals that others would have given up as hopeless cases. Who else would make a Ministry-bred albino bloodhound a pet? “What do you say we take the dog for a walk and then we can find a nice inn and we can take the dog for a walk.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Charlie agreed. He gave the leash a tug to signal to Wood it was time to get up.