A Winged Adventure.

Set after the Battle of Hogwarts and running with the idea of dragons. Contains minor crossover concepts with HTTYD. Charlie plus OC.

All through the summer school had been getting fixed. The Battle of Hogwarts had reduced a large portion of the castle to rubble. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, had defeated the Dark Lord. Everything had changed. We may have won but we had lost so many. We had been given time to mourn the losses of our classmates and those adults who had chosen to defend and fight with us.

Professor McGonagall was to be our new headmistress but still teach Transfiguration. Professor Snape, who turned out to be a good guy, had also died leaving Potions empty. Professor Sprout was also toying with the idea of retiring leaving Herbology open.

There were to be many more changes.

Neither Hogsmeade nor Diagon Alley had been left unscathed. The Alley was recovering, the shops reopening though old Fortescue had been captured and probably killed. I would miss his lovely ice cream.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had a small corner dedicated to an array of curious coloured eggs which caught my eye from a distance. It appeared that so had most of the other student body who were milling about. Finally getting to the front I see my classmate Ginny along with an older guy. I presumed he was a brother, with the infamous red hair tied into a bun atop of his head haphazardly with tendrils escaping. His friendly face was unshaven and a mischievous twinkle glinted in his light blue eyes. Smiling she greets me, introducing Charlie, the dragon one. A magicked bird cage contains a small red and black pygmy dragon; it's shell still beside it in a speckled pink and grey pattern. It was palm sized and curled up sleeping, small puffs of smoke evaporating from its nostrils.

Across the table in careful nest boxes were various coloured eggs, all due to hatch before we go back to school for our final year. I was drawn to the grey egg with a sparkly light blue effect scattered across its shell like deep watery valleys of the unknown. Ginny commented that it looked like an opal effect of sorts. It was rather beautiful. Choosing that one, Charlie places the egg into a small wire cage which had been stacked beside him. The metal bottom scattered with leaves and twigs moulded to create a lumpy landscape. The egg is nestled into a dip in the earth, protected from rocking about. He places a small heat pad over the top with nimble fingers. A magical countdown ticks by on the top. Twenty-five days; a little under a month.

I pay Angelina the twenty galleons for it at the till, I shuffle through the shop casting a glance at Charlie and Ginny receiving a smile and wave in return. Ginny digging her brother in the ribs as we hold gazes. Biting my lip, I feel my cheeks burn, quickly ducking out the door as soon to be first years enter.

Each day the timer counted down. I grew more impatient each day, constantly checking instead of focusing on preparing to back to school. The grey and turquoise shell never flinched under my constant gaze. I watched on eagerly as the timer turned from days to hours to minutes. At the timer finally reached the five-minute mark my mother shouts from downstairs; we had visitors. Silently I curse, tempted not to go down and be polite.

A knock on the bedroom door is followed by a red head. Ginny peers around it, a grin on her face. The door widens, Charlie follows her. They both stroll across my room to the window in which I was sat in front of. They take either side. Ginny to my right, Charlie to my left. His hands, I noted, were that of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. They looked rough and blistery, his nails bitten short. They fascinated me. Out the corner of my eye I watch him. Taller than me and Ginny, though shorter for a male with broad shoulders. Currently he was in a dark blue t-shirt. It suited him. The muscles in his toned arms strong and defined with scars where he had been burnt. I'd put him in his mid to late twenties making him nine or ten years older than us.

As the last few seconds count down, I hold my breath. A large fracture zaps across the shell dissecting the two colours. A small rounded snout pokes through the crack followed by a long jaw and wide eyes. The smooth grey diamond shape scales have an iridescence to them. Charlie helps it from its shell, fingers delicately and expertly helping the reptile unfurl. Down it's back there's a lovely turquoise ridge from the top of its head down to its arrow shaped tail which is also blue tipped. The small wings with three points are darker in a petrol teal shade. As it shakes they open majestically rising and stretching out. Coughing it snorts a puff of smoke. It's beautiful.

Charlie's large hands cusp around the reptile as he passes it to me. "Give her a name, Evelyn." It's the first time he's addressed me. I love the way his name sounds on his chapped lips.

"Um," I suppose I hadn't really thought of it. The grey and blue reptile curls up, tucking its tail under herself and furling its wings around her body. "I'm not sure." I meet Charlie's gaze, conveying my thought process. "Something old, ancient? Mystical? Blue and grey? Or to what affinity it has?" I simply shrug, placing it back in its cage. "I'll think of something and let you know."

He squeezes my shoulder as he stands. "Please do, Evelyn. I'll look forward to it." We both shoot Ginny a look as she hides a comment of 'lame' behind a fake cough.

By the time I find Gin on the Hogwarts Express the dragon had a concept for a name. I had slept on it; her blue and grey toning made me think of the moon, sea, winter and skies. I run this through with her and Luna, who'd mentioned that her brother, strangely, had never shut up about me. This, I was told, was a rare thing. Charlie was too interested in dragons to form relationships. Finding parchment that evening I sit at the small desk in our dorm room and write.

Dear Charlie,

I have decided to name the dragon Skadi. The Norse Goddess of hunting, skiing and winter. Highly appropriate due to her colouring, I think. She also seems to be able to find cold spots and prefers lying in the shade. Surely this is unusual?

I'd love to hear from you, Evelyn Ashdown x

I send it off with my owl Henry. Ginny simply rolls her eyes from her bed. Hermione, the brains of the golden trio and returning for her final year, simply smiles in return as she looks up from her thick book.

At dinner Charlie's dragons were everywhere. A lot of students had them curled into their pockets of their cloaks where the pygmy reptiles were fast asleep. Students could be seen sneaking small umps of meat into them so they could be fed.

A response comes from Charlie the following weekend in person. He popped into school to check over the dragons, staying for the month until the end of September with his family. Headmistress McGonagall had built a building to house the pets if need be. A large garden landscape of trees and mountains and flying space complete with a deep pool to satisfy the water loving dragons like my own. I had found Skadi in a cauldron of water, splashing and diving when she was days old and still palm sized. The red tone dragons could breathe fire and had a habit of igniting things relying on the water dragons to extinguish them. The green coloured dragons were fond of digging and burying themselves in the earth while the yellow tones preferred swooping and flying.

As he enters the common room, both Ginny and Hermione greet him. His pathway towards the sofa in which I was sat on followed by the gazes of fellow lionesses. He reclines in the seat next to me, feet propped on the coffee table. Skadi flutters over to his lap, now the size of a new born kitten. She nuzzles into his outstretched fingers while his other hand grazes my shoulder from the back of the comfy seat. A cheeky grin and a wink gets thrown my way when I look at him, heat spreading across my face at the attention.

In our dorm Skadi's cage was replaced by an enlarged tank that muggles would use for turtles. Made with part land from stone and sand which slopes into water, she was happy to bask under the heat lamp or dash through the water plants. Skadi would become a flash of blue and grey as she waves through the greenery. With an open top, she was free to come and go wherever in school, after finding the other dragons in the den outside.

Charlie's letters from Romania would tell of full size beasts and his heroic tales of trying to tame them or whichever new burn had appeared because he'd let his guard down. His love of the pygmies and allowance to breed and sell them exclusively to WWW brought him home every six weeks. This pleased his family, they were all still finding it hard recovering from Fred's death so having him closer helped.

His first return clashed with our Hogsmeade trip. I'd accepted his enquiry about catching up over a butterbeer or two at the Three Broomsticks. Both Ginny and Hermione simply rolled their eyes. Ginny commenting how much older her brother was although he seemed happy which was all that mattered. I swore not to hurt him. The lioness had a temper to match her hair.

In the Broomsticks, I find him in a chair by the inglenook fire, two mugs of warm butterbeer upon the small table. He stands as I approach, helping me out of my coat and pulling me into a hug. Breathing in I'm surrounded by him. His body strong around my own and scent that is masculine and simply him. "Hey Charlie." I smile, taking a step back. Sitting in the chair opposite we reach for the mugs, the butterscotch taste and warmth thawing me out.

We chat easily about Skadi and the other pygmy dragons. He'd discovered another breed back in Romania. It was similar to a Hebridean Black about the size of a kitten at its largest. Instead of rough black scales the new pygmy had smooth purply black iridescent scales and a long silvery grey ridge down its back to a pointed arrow shaped tail like all the other pygmy breed do. The famous brilliant purple eyes of the Hebridean had also been found in the pygmy although the males had silvery eyes instead. He wasn't sure about its abilities yet but he and the other Dragonologists were busy researching it.

He also mentions that Ginny commented that I was a chaser along with her, smiling that he could have been a pro seeker, eve had the trials but had chosen dragons instead. He'd loved playing the game in school, being captain too. The Weasley's played it in their orchard back at the Burrow when the weather was nice, he missed those. I recall our latest match against Ravenclaw, Ginny and I and our other chaser Dean had done well. Demelza had been injured in our first game of the season back in September against Slytherin.

Snow starts to fall as we wander through the village. The scattering of shops decked for the festive season. The afternoon goes by far too quick as he walks me back to the castle gates. He tucks a strand of my dark hair behind my ear before pulling me into another hug, commenting to stay safe. I repeat the sentiment, adding that I would keep him updated with Skadi's abilities along with the other pygmies. I make him promise to keep me updated on the new Black ones in Romania too.

By summer I had been invited to the Burrow instead of going home, my parents traveling the wizarding world improving communications as diplomats or something to do with politics. Graduating from Hogwarts was bittersweet though I was looking forward to what would entail.

The Burrow was as I had expected it to be; comforting and homely with a countryside freedom. I'd grown up on the coast, used to salt air and waves rather than quiet and insects buzzing. I'd be sharing a room with Ginny and Hermione, nothing new there. The brothers all scattered about the upper floors with Charlie residing in his old room that he shared with the now scarred Bill.

The second day of the holidays, Charlie arrives home. Perched upon his shoulder was the black pygmy that he had mentioned at Christmas. He'd kept quiet about its abilities, briefing over it and wanting to show me in person. The small dragon narrows its eyes as me as I reach for it. It puffs smoke into my hand, smelling like damp. As I touch its smooth head, it vanishes, blending into nothingness though I could still feel the scales under my fingertips. This pygmy could become invisible. The purple tinted black and silver dragon with the same abilities as a demiguise. The other pygmy colourings capturing the elements. I wondered if they were an entirely separate breed from the giant reptiles that Charlie usually worked with or whether they were simply scaled down variations. I wasn't exactly sure of the exact biology of them but I had no doubt that Charlie would, or would be researching it.

As night fell the black dragon, now classed as a Night Fury, curled up in the armchair akin to a cat. The Fury and Skadi as a water dragon got on rather well. Skadi seemed to be able to find the other dragon even when it was invisible. Though the other dragon didn't seem to like water which is where Skadi spent a lot of time. It preferred the stony embankment part of the expanding tank.

Charlie and I grew closer over those lazy days. We celebrated my NEWT results with a large game of Quidditch in the orchard with Hermione and Fleur spectating with Molly and Arthur. Myself, Charlie, George and Angelina were on one team. Ginny, Harry, Ron and Bill on the other. The Weasley's were super competitive. I knew from sharing a pitch with Angelina and Ginny that they were just as bad as the boys. Harry was great too. I was in fond company.

By late evening Molly called for a time out. She'd cooked dinner later so we could play but put her foot down at eating any later than eight. The scores were level as we traipsed into the kitchen. Too full from food we call it a day, resuming tomorrow morning and lounging about the house.

As the round moon sits high in the sky Charlie and I sneak out the house into the garden with the dragons. In seeing the moon Night Fury's purple eyes widen, the black scales an iridescent violet under the glow. Skadi even looks metallic, her grey scales resembling unicorn blood and the spines down her back appearing a petrol shade of blue rather than turquoise.

"Evelyn." A hushed voice from my icy blue-eyed friend who meets my own sapphire eyes. "Your hair…" My black hair would appear inky in the moonlight, similar to that of Night Fury.

"I know Charlie; thanks." I smile, sitting beside him in the grass and curling into his side. To me the decade age gap didn't feel like ten years. We'd connected on a level that I didn't have with people my own age.

"Come back to Romania with me?" his whispers carry across the night. "Come and see my dragons."

"That," I intertwine our fingers, "is what I was planning on doing. I'm a Trainee Healer at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. Every time you get burnt you'll come see me. Madam Camelia Balaur is planning to retire come Christmas. They're sending someone from St Mungo's to tutor me." I sigh softly knowing how much work I had in store so I could help the Dragonologists.

Days later Charlie and I were due to apparate to Romania. I'd packed a never-ending rucksack with all of my things including Skadi's tank even though I'd been assured that she would be in good company and habitat without it. With Charlie's hand in mine and the pygmy dragons across our shoulders we apparate into the sanctuary's accommodation.

The large open area in which we have apparated into had comfy looking sofas and a large fireplace, the dragons leaving our shoulders to go bask in the comforting heat. Large arched windows looked over lush greenery on one side and a large paddock to the back through the kitchen. Dark oak covered most surfaces in the open plan area with a large wooden table linking the sitting room and kitchen.

Charlie leads me to a large door which opens into a hallway. Stone steps with a wrought iron handrail leads to upper floors. Here the handful of doors were identical, only one not having a metal bathroom sign attached. The top floor was the same as the floor below, but this time a door was wedged open.

The simple room with cream walls and dark oak wood matched the rest of the building. A large double bed, chest of drawers, a vanity with a mirror and a large wardrobe. A few shelves were stacked either side of the large window overlooking the paddock.

Charlie helps me to unpack, lugging Skadi's tank across to the bare wall. Some things were best done without magic. I pause from putting clothes into a drawer, watching the firm muscles under his t-shirt dance. He looks up, a grin playing on his lips. "Caught you looking, Ev." He chuckles lightly as I feel my face flush. He takes a couple of long strides to where I stand, an arm wrapping around my waist, the other hand brushing my hair out my face, callused fingers lingering.

"You know, Ginny told me something…" he raises a single brow waiting for me to continue. I trace my thumbs over his collar bones and round his neck, weaving my hands through his auburn hair. "She says you have a magicked tattoo and have to hide it from Molly." I can't help the smirk that graces my lips at the thought.

He chuckles lightly, his lips brushing my own. "Gin's not wrong, Ev. Mum would go mental."

Nodding, I agree. "It's true then?"

Stepping backwards he holds a finger up, motioning for me to give him a minute. He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his neck over his head. Taut abdominal muscles are revealed. A palm sized dragon similar to Night Fury dances across his chest and around the area of his heart. He runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly. I find myself drawn back to him, fingers itching to follow the flowing ink. He drops the t-shirt, his now empty hand curling back around my waist, the other pressing my fingers to his chest as if to read my mind. With gentle and cautious fingers, I trace its path, his breath hitching slightly. Our mouths reconnect momentarily, the red stubble grazing a path from my lips down my neck to my collar bones. Tangling my fingers into his hair our hips mould, the backs of my knees colliding with the bed.

My dark hair fans behind me over the pillows like an ink leak. His pale blue eyes meet my darker ones asking permission to continue with his mouth further. I simply nod a little. Fingers grasp his wand from his boot, casting a silent spell to shut and lock the door and another swish for a silencing spell. Shifting further down the bed his fingers graze the hem of the vest top, slowly he peels it upwards kissing a path up my stomach, keeping contact as my fingers find his hair. In reaching my chest he catches my eyes once again. Sitting upright I take the fabric from his fingers and pull it over my head. Soft turquoise lace covers what he seeks, the colour somewhere in between both our eyes. Ice blue eyes freeze and melt in a moment, emotions swirling as he meets my own. Whatever he seeks he must have found as he continues his ministrations, placing kisses on exposed skin long into the night.

Waking up in his arms the following morning was rather bliss. Dawn was breaking on the horizon, clearly through the window I could see dragon shapes casting shadows across the sky. The distant mountains silhouetted against streaks of brilliant pinks and purples. The orange tones of the rising sun reflecting upon the lake at its base and the winding river towards the reserve. It was beautiful. Next to me he stirs, sleepily planting a kiss upon my shoulder.

After a quick shower, I shuffle to my wardrobe finding a simple pair of jeans and a tee. Today I would be exploring the expanse of the sanctuary with Charlie's guidance. He grudgingly gets changed into his clothes that had been littered about. At breakfast, the large wooden table is surrounded by new faces. Here I meet Madam Balaur. The woman in question was tall and lithe opposed to matronly like I had been expecting. Her lighter hair was pinned back into a bun off her slim face. She looked relatively young but would be in her hundreds in wizarding years. She chats easily in English, introducing me to the other healers and medi-wizards and potion masters as well as conservationists and other Dragonologists like Charlie. In total, there were about twenty-five of us, but only six of us were medics headed by Camelia.

From the house, we head around the side of the building into the paddock, the river and mountains beyond. Here, Charlie explained, was where the dragons could be mildly tamed if there were any need to due to veterinary attention, the sleeping draught in large dozes coming in handy. The space had been made to be impenetrable but secure for the animals.

Round the front of the building the forest stretched for miles as far as the eye could see. The dragons camouflaged but still audible. Taking a left, we come across another gothic building. The hospital set into beautiful archways with more dark wood. The two-story building split into two wings. Through the large oak front door was a reception type area where any injuries would be catalogued by a jinxed quill. A duplicate copy would be received upstairs in the office. The back of the building contained a small kitchen and classroom. I had no doubt that I would be spending a lot of time here. A large sweeping staircase arrives us on the upper floor. To the left and centre, separate white, clean and clinical rooms for the males while the right-hand side contained a few of the same for the females in which there were only seven in total including myself and Camelia.

Once acquainted with these rooms we head back outside, joined by Skadi and Night Fury. Towards the river we come across an area purely for the tamer pygmy breeds. It was similar to the set up in Hogwarts but several dozen times the size combining the landscapes that they lived in. Skadi and Night Fury swoop, sweep and swish around each other as we near the environment. Here, the wild pygmy dragons come closer to Charlie though were understandably more reproachful with me.

Skadi comes and settles around my shoulders. This seems to draw out the other water dragons to me. They're similar to Skadi, grey and petrol blue but with variations of the patterns across the scales and about the size of a standard house cat. Crouching I reach for them as they snort puffs of harmless smoke over my outstretched fingers as I go to rub their heads. They startle a little as a rustle comes from Charlie's jean pocket. There was something there beside him. As Night Fury puffs smoke in the direction of the offending area another one of his kind appears through the smoke surrounding the invisible shape. Charlie simply laughs at this and at my amazed expression. As it reveals itself it has more of a purple tinge. Charlie explained this was due to it being female while the one I was familiar with was the male. We follow her into a caved area, the male following her with its back to her, keeping an eye on us. In one of the dry alcoves left by a once upon a time river is a nest primarily of leaves and twigs. Hidden in its depths was a black bobbly looking palm size rock as if it were covered with layers of push pins. The female curls herself around the single egg as the nameless Night Fury gauges our reaction. From deeper in the nest there's squawking and flapping of wings. Two small Night Furies appear, snorting smoke at the male, looking at Charlie and I with wide and cautious eyes. The male softly tackles them mid-air, nudging them our way a little before looking at their mother.

The inky egg cracks a little, a chevron appears down the length of it. Charlie takes a deep breath. Quiet tapping from a milk tooth reveals a snout. It strains against the shell as the mother nudges it with her nose in an attempt to help. Tiny wings unfurl as it shuffles ungracefully out the shell. We had just witnessed a Night Fury being born. I was privileged. A grin spreads across my face as its siblings tumble over to it, snorting and squeaking. Charlie tugs at my hand. Taking the hint, we tiptoe backwards out the cave. I strain and blink a few times as we exit into the light of the forest and river adjust as we head back onto the trail following Skadi.

Once in the comfort of the house we recall what we had witnessed. The scratch of quills against parchment fill the air while Charlie sketches things from memory, his fingers a flash across the page. I never knew that he could draw. The detail of the egg and the tiny dragon coming to life on the paper. His concentration never wavers.

Madam Balaur pulls me aside to go over basic paperwork and duplicates. The dragon nerds discussing the reproductive patterns of a Night Fury compared to the other pygmies in animated chatter. In the kitchen, I double check everything. Tomorrow would be my first day as a Trainee Healer. Now that I had been shown around, the serious work was to begin.

At six am the alarm startles me awake, yawning I stretch out. My Trainee Healer uniform hangs in front of the wardrobe. The dark green cotton robe with the familiar bone and wand symbol upon the chest was a little more wearable than the lime of St Mungo's.

After a stressful first day of recalling knowledge from school in order to understand my capabilities, the following days were a little easier.

Christmas Eve brought a delivery of a few mini replica dragons from England; the ones used in the Triwizard Tournament. They were still bird sized and rather cute and spent time nesting in the rafters of the living room. By the time Camelia's replacement arrived from St Mungo's for her retirement the following day, I was adept in treating basic injuries. I'd had my fair share of burns and scalds from fire; rips, tears and shreds from talons, bites and smoke inhalation. I'd memorised the mix for burn healing paste and could make the thick orange gloop in minutes as well as having other antidotes to hand including a large supply of dittany which grew in the garden of the property. Dragon pox could appear in a moment's notice, the purple and green blisters were all sorts of nasty, the revised cure working better than the original.

This was my life now. Charlie and I were in a good place, our relationship going from strength to strength each day. Each day I thanked Merlin that I had met him and gave me this opportunity for a new life.