Charlie mooning after dragons. Pansy mooning after... not Charlie.
Accolades and butter beers go to BlackImp, Sabrina Weasley, Clumsy Tonks, Tsumomo, crazy's way i aim 4, thearcherballet and various guests- you've all been far too kind in your encouragements, and it's lovely to know people are reading.
And for those wondering how on earth P & C end up together (...if they do), I have sketched it out. There is a plan. A mad, maniacal plan. (Mwahahaha).
Charlie stamped his feet. It could be chilly in the Carpathian Mountains, and the autumn air was beginning to get a bite to it. They were in a rather desolate valley, close to the dragon quarantine caves. The train tracks that had magically appeared earlier that morning were empty, and the remaining group of dragon wranglers were getting impatient to see their new guests.
"Ten Sickles says that I can get the Hebridean Black into the cave before Baldrick even gets the Ironbelly out of the train," challenged Marcus, stretching his muscled arms.
Charlie laughed. "Hardly fair. You know Ironbellies are so groggy when they wake up that it'll take them at least an hour to remember they're dragons. Also we are not getting them out at the same time. Wynne would cook my liver."
"Fine, my friend, fine. If you're chicken…"
"If you're so confident, why don't you take the Ironbelly?"
"Don't insult my ego. They're like kittens when they wake up," muttered Marcus, darkly. "No fun. Hebrideans at least try to kill you."
"You are a strange, strange man."
Finally, the train appeared in the distance, like a sapphire snake with a pale white mane streaming behind it. When it finally pulled up at the agreed place, the five men and three women gathered eagerly to see their new pets.
"Okay, guys- split off into your teams, we want the Hebridean out first," Charlie's voice boomed light and confident. They were all masters at getting the dragons into the temporary caves, located down the tracks embedded in the mountainside. However it was the first time they had done it with Charlie in charge. A couple of them, included Baldrick and a wizened fellow named Kerov, looked somewhat bothered by having someone as young as Charlie boss them around. If Charlie noticed their furrowed brows, he didn't show it. "Marcus and Toothpick, levitate the cow carcass- and Caesar, you poke your head in and make sure she's looking undamaged."
The door of the train opened to reveal the thin figure of Rolf Scamander, and a tall, thunderous looking girl. Rolf, despite layers of coats, was shivering and looking around with a slight air of desperation for anyone to talk to. The girl, who looked like she was cloaked in darkness with black clothes, black hair and a blacker expression, looked too stubborn to allow her skin to even prickle at the cool air.
"She looks intense," said Charlie as her gaze passed over him and stopped with a look of open disgust at the bloody carcass floating in midair like a gory ballerina.
"That's one way of putting it…" muttered Marcus, wiggling his eyebrows from behind the floating dragon snack.
Striding over, Charlie extended a warm grasp to the Professor. "It's good to see you again, Rolf, and you must be…"
The girl looked almost affronted as she gazed at Charlie, but she stuck out her hand and gripped his. She had unusually large hands for a woman, and that dark-eyed gaze was striking. Charlie felt a little guilty for a moment realizing how sandpapery his calloused palms must feel in hers.
"Pansy, Pansy Parkinson." She stated this in a bold way, her eyes very watchful.
"Well, it's good to meet you. I'm Charlie-" he began.
"Weasely?"
He laughed good naturedly, rubbing his hair in a manner that was both self-conscious and relaxed. "The hair gives it away, huh? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you- it'll be quite refreshing to have some new blood around the place. Are you planning on staying, Rolf?"
"No no, just as long as it takes to make sure the dragons are safe and in one piece. Pansy seems like a very…" Scamander's eyes took on a slightly spooked look, "…able and assertive student, so I'm sure she'll be just fine sorting herself out. I'll be heading back to Greece shortly. The dragons seemed very peaceful on the way down- just a couple of snores, so I'm quite happy to leave them in your able hands."
"The Hebridean looks great!" shouted Caesar, his robust body hanging off the side of the train. "Shall I wake her up?"
Charlie excused himself, and suggested that the pair of academics stood a safe distance behind the line of wranglers.
"Right, ready the carcass. Open the door, and let's get this dragon out of here!" yelled Charlie, as everyone rushed to their positions.
Clambering up to the side of the heavily reinforced carriage, Charlie did a quick check to see the Hebridean was napping peacefully before opening the gate with a clang.
The dragon looked deceptive in size with it's black bat-like wings enclosed around it's body. The spikes spanning it's back lifted and dropped about a foot with each slumbering breath. The Hebridean's face was a similar shape to a horse, except for being larger, scalier and being topped with small horns and decorated with black, serrated teeth.
Very quietly, and with the upmost gentleness, Charlie crept forward and climbed over the beast's large head. In the carriage already lay the iron head gear which he hefted over the dragon's muzzle and clamped shut on both sides.
"Claustrum," he muttered, tapping the wicked-looking contraption. With a groan it slithered shut around the dragon's teeth, locking them closed. The dragon let a small, sleepy growl but stayed still.
Charlie then rested his palms on the closed eyelid. It was dry and warm under his touch. The dark, toothy beast before him looked utterly harmless in slumber and Charlie could feel the comforting rise of the dragon's breath, in and out. Not for the first time did Charlie smile with glee at the fact he had the best job in the world. Carefully, he stroked the dragon's eyelid with his rough palms until an inch wide slit appeared, revealing a wicked purple eye. Dragons had hides so thick that they were almost impervious to magic, so any spells had to be carefully aimed at the more tender areas like the gums or cornea.
Slipping out the carriage again, he noted that Scamander and Pansy were standing a good distance away and were watching the proceedings with interest.
Pansy's expression was hard to read from here, but she looked a bit nervous so Charlie gave her a friendly wave to let her know it was all alright. Only Scamander heard her mutter, "Bloody Gryffindor bravado."
Moving back to a safe distance, and making sure that everyone was in the correct position, Charlie aimed his wand. "Vigoro."
A red spark leap from it's end and made a bee-line for the violet slit, whizzing like a firework. Like a bullseye it hit, instantly making the dragon reel back it's head as if it had just taken a nose-full of pepper. The clunky metal head gear hit the ceiling with a bang, and the Hebridean opened it's violent violet eyes wide and furious.
With a puff, a stream of midnight smoke coursed from the dragon's nose as it shook it's head viciously in an attempt to rid itself of the metal bridle. It's wings flapped weakly, still heavy from sleep, and the beast fell out of the carriage in an incredibly inelegant manner. The black claws made ugly grating sounds across the pavement as it rediscovered it's feet, then paused taking in the scene before it.
"Ventus," muttered Charlie, and from his wand burst a gust of wind that cleared the obstructing smog flowing freely from the creature's muzzle. "Marcus, bring the cow forward. This beaut looks pretty hungry."
The bloody body swung forward in the air, Marcus and Toothpick expertly levitating the cow at a distance just beyond the dragon's reach. The violet eyes distracted from the smaller, less interesting pieces of meat, watched the cow floating above it's head with ravenousness intent. It's serpentine neck spat out toward the body, but the witch and wizard deftly swung it higher. The dragon, wings failing to lift it in the air, was forced to follow the tempting morsel down the tracks toward the line of caves set into the mountain wall.
Bless it, thought Charlie. Dragons weren't the brightest sparks once they've just woken up. It had even forgotten that the metal muzzle stopped it from even opening it's mouth.
Marcus nodded to the bony figure of Toothpick. The pair began scampering back towards the caves, towing the bovine treat and bracing themselves against the gusts caused by the beast's flapping wings. The dragon's, still sleepy appendages, made it unable to fly after the floating body. So it was forced to scuttle after it, jabbing it's large head in it's attempt to reach it. In formation, six of the wranglers encircled the Hebridean, hands gripped tight on their wands.
Pansy watched the sight, mesmerized. The wranglers moved like a perfectly oiled machine, each staying a specified distance around the Hebridean- just far enough to avoid the angrily, flicking tail but close enough to jump in encase Marcus or Toothpick got into trouble. Not that the pair looked bothered by the situation at all, in fact from their smiling faces it seemed that they were exchanging jibes as they teased the beast like a cat with a play toy.
They all seemed utterly fearless.
Occasionally, Scamander would jump in with an "interesting fact" about the Hebridean, but it was obvious Pansy wasn't listening. Rolf had realized in the few days he had spent alone with the girl that she wasn't the easiest company to keep. Partly this was due to her blatant anger at being assigned to what she casually referred to as the "Placement of Certain Death." Though it was also due to the half-veiled comments she occasionally dropped about inappropriate relationships between teachers and students. Even Rolf, who wasn't the sharpest tool when it came to picking up social cues, felt the need to address these references and thoroughly assured her that he had no such romantic interest in her. Pansy had coolly consoled him that this was not what she meant, and that her tastes ran to wealthy, emotionally-detached gentlemen who looked like they had a touch of consumption- not ridiculous professors who were obsessed with beetles, tartan handkerchiefs and Luna Lovegood.
This comment had made Rolf choke on his tea, and they hadn't really exchanged many words since.
As the dragon neared the caves, Charlie jogged over to see how they were doing. "Beautiful, isn't she?" he said, looking at the captivated expression on Pansy's face.
Rolf nodded. "Quite the specimen. A little on the small size for her age, she'll probably only breath fire in a range of fifteen feet- but very well done on getting her sorted out so efficiently."
Charlie grinned. "Thanks, but she's not in the caves yet…"
Pansy blocked the chattering pair out. The dragon was, in it's own way… beautiful. It's neck had a swan-like grace, yet their was no questioning the power and strength in those jaws. It's tail almost slithered along the ground, and it was beginning to become elegant in it's limbs as the sleep wore off. Pansy had not expected it to be so captivating. The way it moved, it's size and the impossible black of the scales and poison of it's purple gaze seemed too fantastical to be real. Yet there it was in its dreadful glory. A thing of power and flight and fire. A beast all feared… all feared except these maniacs surrounding it.
Pansy had seen dragons at the Triwizard Tournament- the Chinese Fireball, the Swedish Short-Snout, the Common Welsh Green and the Hungarian Horntail. But back then she had been less worried with how impressive and terrifying the dragons were, being more entertained with the hilarious looks of fear that crossed the champions faces as they entered the arena. Oh, karma…
There was something strangely attractive about having such control and fearlessness around a creature so further up the food chain. Especially when that control and boldness was coupled with an attractive blond face, chiseled physique and mocking grin.
"Are you alright?" asked Charlie, concerned- completely interrupting the inappropriate thoughts Pansy was having about the blond fellow levitating the meat. "You look a bit flushed."
"Pansy was a little anxious about working around dragons," said Rolf- a sentence that would have preceded his imminent demise had there not been so many witnesses. "I'm afraid she may have wound herself up a bit on the train journey."
Pansy raised an imperious brow. Afraid? She was petrified. But she would rather die a thousand fiery deaths than let any of these weird dragon zealots know that she even felt a little uneasy.
"I feel fine, thank you. I've just never worked with dragons before. If anything, I'm nervous about choosing the correct topic for my dissertation," Pansy retorted proudly.
Charlie managed to stop himself chuckling, though his eyes crinkled at the corners. Even he, in all his awe of dragons, had been a little nervous at his first encounter. "You sound a lot like my brother's girlfriend! Did you know Hermione at school?"
Pansy just about stopped herself from vomiting at the insult, and was saved from answering by Charlie's bizarre need to reassure her. "I wouldn't worry about the dissertation, we're all Magizoologists here so feel free to bat round research ideas with any of us. And in terms of working with the dragons, it'll be fine. Once you've built your confidence up with the drakelings, you'll be bursting to interact with the large bulls."
Pansy regarded Charlie, her eyes narrowed. Other than having a complexion so poor and freckled that it already looked tanned, he was adorned in burns. There was a pearly one on his inner arm, a raised scar to the left of his eye, actual tooth marks on his collarbone… The boy's skin looked a battleground. If it wasn't for his insatiable good humour, perpetual grin and ridiculous hair, he would have seemed rather intimidating. Pansy was fully expecting that by the end of this escapade she would either look the same, or be dead. Luckily, though, without the luminous red hair.
"I can't wait," she replied, her words dripping with sarcasm. Charlie seemed to miss this, and instead gave her a bright smile and an amiable punch on the arm. Oh Merlin, he's just as mad as Luna, Pansy thought helplessly. If not worse.
"That's the spirit," Charlie said. "Right, they're just at the caves. I just need to check all the wards go up okay."
And with that the burly shape of a dragon-loving Weasley ran off with near childish enthusiasm.
Marcus and Toothpick, with practiced aim, levitated the carcass into the nearest cave just as the dragon shot in after it. The two wranglers then cast a spell causing iron bars to rise out of the ground. Four others then joined them and the group cast and recast spells of strengthening, fire-proofing and whatever else was needed to keep a dragon imprisoned.
"Well done, Char," said Mona, patting his back. "Not bad for your first time as the Bossman."
"Hey," Marcus interrupted, with a faux-insulted voice. "We did most of the work!"
"As ever, so under-appreciated…" agreed Toothpick giving Charlie an affable smirk, her bony elbow catching him in the ribcage.
The six began their stroll back down the train tracks, all in high humour. Distantly, they could see Baldrick and Kerov beginning to unlock the second carriage door.
"Hey!" called Charlie. "Wait till we get there! And poke your head in to make sure she's okay-"
An ominous clang echoed.
Charlie froze. Scamander had said one of the dragons had been snoring on the way over. Dragons don't snore in Titan Slumber.
The sound of ripping metal sang throughout the landscape, and an archaic roar reverberated from the train. Instantly, the six began running just as they saw the figures of Baldrick and Kerov fall, and a gargantuan metallic monster unleash itself into the air.