Romania

If there was one thing Charlie Weasley hated about working in Romania, if was his isolation from the British wizard community. Sure, there were wizards in Romania, but places where dragons were located were often in remote areas of the country, and if there was even a small town nearby, he considered himself lucky. Plus, people didn't parade the fact that they were witches and wizards around hundreds of Muggles, so even if a wizard was tucked under his nose, he probably would never have realized it.

Those with him on the dragon reserve weren't great company themselves. They were all very brainy and stuck-up, and had almost no sense of humor. They somehow remotely reminded him of his brother Percy. But even thinking about his least-favorite brother made him homesick. Sometimes he missed his family and friends so much that it almost seemed worth it to quit his job, despite his love of magical creatures.

It was a day when he was feeling down about all this. Letters from his mother were short, infrequent, and often secretive. "We're just busy with things for the Order," she would write, or "Your father was hurt a little while back. He's fine now, but I can't say any more about it here." The news - or lack thereof - was making him more homesick than ever.

After work that night, he found himself near a small town. He decided to go and have a look around. Anything to get his mind off his feelings. He found himself wandering until he stopped under a wooden sign, swinging in the gentle breeze. He couldn't understand written Romanian too well, but the picture of a mug above the words told him that this was a tavern. He went inside and sat down at the bar.

In mangled Romanian, he ordered a drink. He had been living there for - how many years? - and he still couldn't get the hang of the language. The bartender smirked at his accent, but seemed to understand and gave Charlie what he had ordered.

Charlie sipped it and tried to stop feeling sorry for himself. A man sat down on his right and began to joke with the bartender. Charlie sighed. He wished he could understand well enough to laugh, too, and he resolved to start trying harder to learn. Maybe discussing his problems with a bartender would be a good help to him. Although, he didn't really think the bartender would be able to give him much advice on how to deal with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The man left and Charlie signaled for another drink. He was almost halfway done with this one when a woman entered the bar and sat down a few stools away on his left. She ordered something in Romanian, but she had a different sort of accent from the rest of them. As the bartender slipped her a drink, she smiled sweetly at Charlie.

"Hello," she said in Romanian.

"Hello," he answered stiffly. This woman was quite pretty, and he wished he could talk to her properly.

"How are you?" she asked him.

"Fine," he answered shortly. Embarrassed by the way he was speaking, he drained his cup, said a quick "Goodbye," and left the pub.

* * *

Charlie was still working in the same area, but he had avoided the pub since that night. He didn't want to meet that woman again until he spoke better Romanian. Every night, after he had dinner, he practiced the language, using a book he had bought several years ago but had never actually used. Finally, a week later, he decided to try again. He didn't know how long he could stay in the area; the dragons were getting rather hostile, and recently, he had received some rather serious burns. Magical ointment did well enough to heal them, or at least keep the pain away, but the worse the burns were, the longer they took to heal, even with magic. He had to go back to the tavern tonight, or he might never see that woman again.

He found the pub with no trouble, sat down at the bar, and ordered his usual. He finished this drink and ordered another. The woman didn't come. He had another drink, but she still didn't show up. He was about to have another when he realized that if she did show up, he was going to be drunk and make even more of a fool of himself. He had waited a whole hour, and was about to give up when she walked in.

She sat down, only one seat away from him this time, and ordered her drink. He could still hear a distinctly different accent and tried to figure out what it was. German maybe? She smiled at him again as she took a drink, then spoke.

"Hello again."

"Hello," Charlie answered. He tried to think of a complimentary phrase from his book. "You're looking pretty tonight," he said quickly.

To his surprise, she laughed.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she said in plain English. The accent in her voice had been an English one!

"You speak English!" Charlie cried. Thank goodness!"

"I saw that you were struggling with Romanian. How long have you been here?"

"Quite a while," Charlie answered, feeling slightly ashamed.

"That's okay," she said quickly. "Some people just aren't good at other languages. Where are you from?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Not too far from London, really. How about you?"

"I was born in York, but I've lived in London, too."

"That's such a coincidence! So what brings you to Romania?"

"Work."

"Yeah, me too." They seemed to have run out of things to say.

"That's a nasty burn on your arm. What happened?"

Charlie froze. This was a Muggle woman! He couldn't tell her that he had got it off a particularly hungry Romanian Longhorn. He had been so concerned about being gored by its golden horns that he had forgotten about its mouth. "I'm a firefighter," he explained. It was the only profession he could think of that would explain a burn while impressing the lady.

"Oh, wow! But don't you get scared, fighting fires and all that?"

Charlie launched into an impromptu retelling of a time he saved a small boy from a collapsing house. The woman listened in awe, and he was sure that if the bartender could have understood English, he would be listening, too.

Charlie agreed to meet the girl, Kristina Bornington again the next night, although, when it came time to head into town, he was having second thoughts. Suppose the girl found out he was a wizard? Would she get scared and run away? Would she tell the authorities so that he and the other dragon researchers would have to leave the country? What if he couldn't think of enough fireman stories to retain her interest? By the time he reached the pub, he was already feeling quite sick.

"It must be hard to work with the other firefighters when you can't speak Romanian that well," Kristina said, after he had finished telling her of a time when he had put out a huge shopping center fire single-handedly after his partners had been hurt by falling debris.

The sick feeling left and now Charlie felt like his stomach was full of lead. At the dragon preserve, all the wizards and witches spoke so many different languages that they didn't even try to talk to each other directly. There were several interpreters there to translate research and observations so others could read them. Kristina already knew he couldn't speak Romanian that well. What was he going to say now?

"I…erm…"

"I know! Why don't I help you learn?"

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be fantastic!" he exclaimed. Kristina was an English teacher at the local Romanian high school, so if she couldn't help him learn the language, no one could.

* * *

Charlie was soon transferred a short distance away, in a different section of the preserve, but he was able to travel back to town to be tutored in Romanian. Things were going well between them. Charlie was less lonely now, and things back home didn't worry him as much. He grew tired of telling fire stories, but Kristina didn't seem to care that he had stopped. Instead, she told him about children in her school, her family, and anything else they could think of.

Weeks passed, then months. Charlie and Kristina had fun together, and when he went home for a week's vacation, he told his family all about her. There was just one thing he kept from Kristina: his true identity.

He had been feeling particularly guilty about this the last month or so. When he had gotten his vacation time to go back to England and see his family again, he had badly wanted to take Kristina and introduce her to them. After all, even his youngest sibling, he had been told, was now dating somewhat seriously. Kristina wanted to see her parents just as well, but her modest wages didn't allow for many trips back and forth. Of course, Charlie didn't need any money: he just used his broom, but he couldn't tell Kristina this. The thought of keeping this secret from her was eating him up inside. He had lied to her and told her that his vacation was actually a business trip. And what if their relationship grew really serious and they wanted to get married? He would have to tell her the truth then, and he wasn't sure what she would say. Some Muggles reacted harshly to being told their husbands were wizards. And not only was he keeping this secret from her, it had branched out. Now he was telling his parents lies of Kristina's true identity. It all had to stop before he exploded from keeping all these secrets bottled up inside.

He found himself telling this to an Antipodean Opaleye one afternoon while trying to focus on his work. This Opaleye was one of the most docile dragon on the preservation, and Charlie liked to talk to it when he was having a problem he couldn't seem to solve. Talking out loud seemed to help his organize his thoughts so he could figure out what to do. He was supposed to be taking noted on what the dragon did when old meat was thrown in its cage. But the Opaleye didn't seem to mind not having to hunt its own prey, and was happily ripping sheep meat off the bones. The Opaleye was one of the most peaceful breeds of dragons, so Charlie could get fairly close safely, as long as the dragon didn't feel he was threatening it.

"I suppose I'll have to tell her the truth," Charlie said to the dragon, as it licked blood off its snout. "Wish me luck," Charlie said, getting up from the ground and gathering his notes. "I have to meet her in an hour."

The dragon growled softly, which Charlie took to mean "Good luck," and he Apparated off the scene.

* * *

They were meeting at a classy restaurant tonight. Kristina said it was so Charlie could practice ordering food correctly in Romanian, but he knew it was because it was one of the most romantic places in town. He was as nervous as the second time he had waited for her in that pub many months ago. He had decided that tonight was the night. And if she didn't love him after finding out he was a wizard, so be it.

She met him outside the front door, and he walked her in.

"We have reservations. Weasley," he said to the hostess in perfect Romanian. She led them to their table, a cozy, candlelit place in the corner. Charlie pulled out the chair for Kristina and they both sat down.

The restaurant was crowded, people were absorbed in their own conversations. Hopefully, no one around them spoke English. He didn't want anyone to overhear what he was going to tell Kristina tonight. They ordered a bottle of wine and their meals. Kristina offered a toast to their relationship, and Charlie smiled weakly. Hopefully, she would still want him after she found out.

Their appetizers came out. Charlie picked at his, but he was too busy worrying about his own problems to realize that Kristina was hardly eating either. Finally, he had to say something.

"I have something to tell you," he blurted out. Strangely enough, Kristina had said the same thing simultaneously.

"You go first," she said, as shyly as he had ever seen her.

"I'm sorry, Kristina," he began. "I've been lying to you from the start. I'm not a firefighter; I study and tame dragons. My family is full of witches and wizards, and I'm no different. I'm so sorry. I just wanted you to like me because you were so kind a beautiful. I'll understand if you don't even want to see me again."

He stared down into his plate, but his speech had earned him no response. He looked up. Kristina was crying, hands over her face, but Charlie didn't know what to say to comfort her. "I didn't want to have to lie," he explained lamely. "Things just got out of hand. Don't cry."

Kristina fished a handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed her eyes. Then Charlie realized; she was smiling.

"That's just what I was going to tell you, Charlie," she said between sobs. "I'm a witch. I'm no English teacher; I'm a researcher for Gringotts. That's why I know so many languages."

A huge smile broke across Charlie's face, and soon he was laughing so hard he was crying, too.

~*The End*~