a/n: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter world. I'm just borrowing it. I also don't own any of the quotes at the heads of chapters. Various other authors own those. Any characters you don't recognize are ones I created.
Dragons Fly
by
The Geeky Quill
"'Well, Master Underhill,' said Strider, 'if I were you, I should stop your young friends from talking too much. Drink, fire, and chance-meetings are pleasant enough, but well - this isn't the Shire. There are queer folk about.'"
From The Fellowship of The Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien
Chapter 1: The Prancing Pony
This story begins, as many trite stories do, in a bar. Three wizards sat at the table in their corner of The Prancing Pony, a place as familiar and comfortable as an old boot, and it smelled rather like one. Two were having a lively debate about the existence of true love and the third was listening with a reluctant interest. The stocky one leaned one mountainous arm on the table causing it to tip slightly and rumbled, "You're so jaded, Martin. You wouldn't know true love if it hit you between the eyes." He lifted his glass and let some of the amber liquid pour down his throat and burn ever so mildly. Then, as he wiped his mouth with the back of one calloused hand, he looked at his opponent with the dark beady eyes and grey flecked brown hair.
"Jaded?" he laughed, "You're right there, Charlie me mate. I'm completely bolloxed!" He raised his glass in mock-salute to his sturdy ginger-haired friend.
"Martin, you were born bolloxed, but I meant you were cynical" said Charlie.
"Charlie," said the beady-eyed wizard leaning closer, "you say this girl is the love of your life and yet here you are in a bar getting sauced with two ugly wizards."
"Speak for yourself," slurred the third, rather round wizard as he sloshed ale down his front.
"Oh, sorry, my suave friend." The dark-haired wizard tipped his fedora to him. "As I was saying, here you are in a bar with one ugly bloke and Mr. Handsome over there," he said with some irony, as he considered himself to be the better looking of the three. "And where is this truly remarkable young lady you speak of? She's not even in this country! Easy to talk of love when the wench isn't around to nag your arse off."
"She's coming," retorted Charlie. "I have my house now, my job's secure. After we're married, I won't be hanging around pubs...well, just this one pub really, with you sorry lot anymore."
"What? You'd give up your mates for a bird?" interjected the pudgy faced wizard.
"Damn strait!" bellowed Charlie slamming his empty mug on the already distressed oak table. "And you would too, Nod, if you could get one."
"I can get a girl anytime I want!" protested Nod, waving his wand at Charlie.
"Yeah, if you don't mind the price," chortled Charlie.
"Or the STD's! And put your wand away. You're liable to jinx somethin'," said Martin. "Save it for the ladies, lad."
Charlie and Martin clinked glasses and roared with laughter. Then Charlie peered somewhat perplexed into his empty glass.
"Another round?" offered Martin.
"No, I'm through." He looked around and fumbled for his cloak.
"Care to make a little wager?" challenged Martin.
"Eh?" Charlie squinted at him.
"You said that for love you would give up everything," said Martin.
Charlie put his hand over his heart and nodded. "My life, even."
"Sure," Martin scoffed. "You have an unseen connection, unspoken understanding," he sneered.
"That's what I said. What are you driving at?" Charlie was getting a little annoyed.
Martin cocked his head and looked at him sideways. "Prove it," he said challengingly.
"You're drunk and so am I." Charlie stood up to test his legs. The room wobbled a little. He glanced at Martin who was still eyeballing him. "Yeah, ok, whatever," Charlie agreed vaguely.
"What shall we wager?"
Nod looked at Martin in astonishment. "You're serious," he said, his voice cracking.
"Deadly," he answered.
Charlie gave a good natured laugh. "Alright, if I'm speaking the truth about my love for Madeline, which I am, you have to buy six cases of butterbeer for the wedding." He started to walk away.
"And what if I win?"
"You can have the satisfaction of always being right," said Charlie.
"That house your always rattling on about."
Charlie turned. "My...No, you can't have my house. It's finally paid for. Madeline hasn't even seen it yet."
"Unsure, are we?" Martin smiled sardonically.
"Yeah, ok, whatever, then a barrel of wine in addition to the butterbeer." Charlie gave a halfhearted wave over his shoulder, took a few steps, spun on one heal and was gone with a "crack". In the morning he only hazily remembered the conversation.
