Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction based on the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. Everything you recognize is created and owned by J.K. Rowling, and I do not claim any ownership. Everything you do not recognize resulted from my own imagination. The story is not purported or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story canon. It is written for entertainment only and I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of it.

I admire J.K. Rowling and her work and am forever grateful for it.


Dragon Burns

"You're getting fat, Jasper," Charlie said.

Charlie threw him a little titbit which the dragon caught mid-air and swallowed whole, before he opened his snout and clicked his tongue, demanding more.

Jasper was a baby-dragon, rescued from a farm in Asia and brought to live in the dragon sanctuary that Charlie Weasley worked at in Romania.

The dragon was as little as a sheep – a fat sheep – as Charlie would point out if asked. He was too young to remember the maltreatment from humans and thus, Jasper was an exceptional clingy dragon baby.

"No," Charlie said firmly and pointed a finger at him.

Jasper made that gurgle sound that announced his displeasure with his trainer.

In two weeks Charlie would not dare point a finger in Jasper's direction. Or put any limb in fang's reach. In two weeks Jasper could grill him and eat him as an appetiser.

But that night Charlie watched from above how Jasper curled up at the base of the rock Charlie sat on and pouted.

He doesn't pout, Charlie, he plans how to kill you best, a voice sounded in his head.

Charlie sighed and so did Jasper.

The stars twinkled from above, but to Charlie they had lost their usual brightness. Coloured leaves rustled around them, but Charlie thought they had lost their promise of change. He watched Jasper close his black scaled eyelids. Maybe in two weeks he'd go home and visit his family. And maybe he just wouldn't come back.

"Nurrr."

"I don't know, Jas. I'm thinking about it."

"Nurrr."

"What? You don't need me here. You couldn't tell the difference. Maybe today, but not in two weeks."

Jasper opened one eyelid and blinked up at him. "Nurrr?"

"I know mate. I'd miss this, too."

Charlie let his eyes travel the area. They were at the end of the sanctuary, not too far from the camp's lodges. This part was always quiet. There they kept the needy dragons, like Jasper was, and the most harmless ones. There, Charlie could hide away. From the hustle and bustle of everyday activities, or from the world in general. Watching Jasper gave him the impression of being in another sphere entirely and he could force himself to shove all else, all the problems of his other life, to the back of his mind.

"...nurrr..."

"I know, Jas." Charlie said absently trailing the long scar that run down his left forearm with his index finger.

Maybe he should go home. Bill was back in England, too, happily married to Fleur. Charly, mon chéri!, her voice sounded in his head and his mouth twitched. Fleur.

Now he was the only one living abroad.

Percy worked his way up in the ministry – he could use someone, someone who abducted him from work and switched a nightshift with a night out.

And the twins? They had their little store in Diagon Alley.

"Much like dragons," Charlie said, "sitting on their gold."

Fred and George, when did those two trouble makers grow up?

And Ron, who could use someone to tell him to man-up and ask the girl out already.

And Ginny. His little baby sister, for who he could go scare off all those blokes trying to bewitch her.

His parent sure be happy to see him.

"Nur-urrr."

"Yes, they would." Charlie disagreed. "They love me. I'm their favourite."

"Nurrr."

"Alright, got me there. Still, I miss Mum's pudding."

"...nurrr..."

Charlie ran a hand over his face.

"Jas?"

Jasper raised his head and blinked up at him.

"What would I do in England?"

Jasper blinked twice with his right and once with his left eye.

"Yeah. I don't know either. I'll drop in at home for a visit in two weeks, but I guess you will be seeing me again after all."

Jasper clicked his tongue.

"Alright, you whiner, there you go."

Jasper chewed happily and hastily.

Charlie looked down at the scar on his forearm. It was his most prominent one and it had long ceased to sting. But dragon burns, he learnt, weren't the most hurtful thing.

"Thanks for the talk, Jas. Mind if I stay a little while longer?"

Jasper shook out one of his wings and curled up again, purring.

You talk about them like they are kittens, Charlie, her laughter-light voice echoed in his head.

Dragon burns - he could live with. But life had taught him that there were things burning scars deeper into skin than dragon fire.

That he considered leaving Romania and the life he loved had nothing to do with the scars covering his body, but everything with that little, black velvet box in his pocket, in which a ring remained that he had hoped would sit on a finger by the end of the night.


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