For the Heroes Hunt (write about someone who tries their best but still fails) and Ultimate Patronus Quest (ant: Write about your OC). A special shout out to Sam, the beautiful creator of Zoelie.
Warning: depictions of animal cruelty.
The Auror, Natalia Greenbeam nods to them as they catch up to her. "The perpetrators were apprehended," she announces. "Those that didn't pop out the second we broke through."
Zoelie feels her stomach grow sour as she looks around the makeshift arena. Fresh blood still glistens through the wire cages, littered with scales and hide. She wipes a tear from her eye and turns to Charlie who has gone white as a ghost. "You don't have to be here," she says softly. "The others are getting the survivors and handling the dead, Charlie."
He shakes his head. Of course he won't walk away. Someone- a lot of someones, really- has taken his beloved creatures and used them for fighting. Zoelie supposes it's best that the law arrived on the scene before Charlie. Her partner would not have been as merciful. Zoelie reaches out and takes his hand, offering it a gentle squeeze.
"Most are going to need rehabilitation," Charlie sighs as a group guide out a Chinese Fireball whose face is marred with scars, its right eye clearly blind.
"Weasley! Beauchene!" Ivan calls. "Need you two in here."
Zoelie turns to assure Charlie again that he can wait outside, but he's already several steps ahead of her. She quickens her pace to catch up. "Whatever is in that room won't be pretty," she says. "Deep breaths, okay?"
Charlie waves a dismissive hand, and she sighs deeply, bracing herself.
It's worse than anything she could have imagined. A Welsh Green, only a baby, small in size is bound tightly at the snout. Its claws have been crudely removed, leaving its fingers a bloody mess. But that's the least of its troubles. Zoelie covers her mouth as she takes in the many bites and scratches over its skin. Some are so deep that bones are exposed. In some areas, heavy infection has set in, giving off a putrid smell.
"Best to euthanize the poor bugger," Ivan says. "It won't make the trip back to Romania."
Charlie shakes his head. "No. No, we can heal him," he insists.
"Charlie," Zoelie whispers.
She wants to tell him that there's no hope for the pitiful creature, but she can see the fire in his eyes. He will do whatever it takes to save him.
"We leave first thing in the morning," Ivan says. "Do your best."
…
"His body is rejecting the potions," Zoelie says.
Charlie shakes his head. "I can't just abandon him, Zo," he insists. "He's been through so much. Someone has to look after him."
Zoelie nods and steps back, watching as Charlie casts a cleansing charm. The Welsh Green gives a weak groan, and she tries not to notice that his breathing has grown shallow. If Charlie sets his mind to it, he can do it. She has to believe that.
…
Zoelie's eyes open at a strangled, weak cry. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she leaps to her feet, her heart breaking as she realizes the sound that's woken her came from the Welsh Green. Silence follows, tense and heaven, only broken by Charlie's string of cursing.
"Charlie," she says gently, stepping closer. "Charlie, it's over. There's nothing else you can do."
"There has to be something," Charlie says, shaking his head stubbornly. "Something I haven't tried. Something… Something…"
Zoelie wraps her arms around her dearest friend, pulling him close. Charlie sobs against her shoulder.
"I couldn't save him," he whispers. "I tried and tried, but it just wasn't enough."
"You can't save them all," she says, stroking his hair.
"I should have," he says. "I should have."