That year, Charlie threw himself into his work more than ever. He worked with dragons because they were exciting. There was something thrilling about the fact that they were some of the most dangerous creatures on Earth, and there was a possibility of serious injury if you turned your attention away for just a few seconds.
Which meant that they were an ideal distraction. Focussing on the dragons meant that there was less room for worrying about the tiny snippets of news he'd heard from the papers and his colleagues. It sounded like Wizarding England was becoming very different from how he had left it.
They were beautiful, dragons. In their own way. They were fiercely loyal creatures, and the sight of a mother tending to her newborn baby had always warmed Charlie's heart.
But seeing their loyalty also made him feel guilty. He'd waltzed off back to Romania, leaving his family to deal with whatever horrors were taking place. It was his duty to support the family, and he was sure that the Order needed all the help they could get. But dragons were fascinating creatures, and Charlie was a coward. He couldn't quite drag himself away from them.