Charlie's Romania
Chapter 1
From his hilltop perch, Charlie examined the Romanian village below him. It resembled nothing close to the vibrant, buoyant villages he had witnessed when he first came to Romania. Back then, the villages had reminded him of home. Bustling with children and laughter, they had made him feel at home even though he was a long way from the Burrow.
The sun would be setting soon and he had to find shelter for the night. Night seemed to fall earlier these days, and the dark was far more dangerous than ever before. Darkness attracted Death Eaters, dementors, and even more dangerous creatures.
A few days earlier, three Death Eaters had happened upon him. Before Charlie was able to escape, he had been wounded. His left side now ached where one of the Death Eaters had sliced him open. Despite Charlie's best efforts, the wound now seemed to be infected. This was not a normal infection. It was an infection spawned from Dark Magic. His best hope now was to get back home to the Burrow.
Charlie's attention was caught by the sound of a woman's voice. She sounded like she was calling for a child. He found her with his eyes. A slender, young woman with long, black hair was searching frantically through the trees and brush below.
"Dominic! We must get home," she called, in her native tongue. "You know it is too dangerous to be out at night now! Dominic!"
Charlie searched further around, and thanks to his aerial view, he spotted a small, dark-haired boy who seemed to be caught in a patch of brambles. Despite the pain it caused him, Charlie apparated to a spot near the boy. As Charlie approached the boy, he noticed that the boy's eyes were not open and he was not moving. Fear clenched his heart. The boy looked to be no more than three- or four-years-old, but he knew that Death Eaters did not differentiate between adult Muggles and Muggle children. To them, a dead Muggle was a dead Muggle, even a tiny, black-haired Muggle with skinned knees.
"No!"
The exclamation rushed from his lips without his noticing. But, he did notice the boy's jerky, surprised movement in response to his shout. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes. Now that he looked closely, he could see the rise and fall of the boy's chest. The boy was just sleeping!
Charlie had just reached into his cloak to retrieve his wand, planning to break away the thorny brambles, when a woman burst through the bushes. It was the same woman he had spotted earlier, the woman who was looking for the boy. She surveyed the scene with scared and accusing eyes.
"What have you done to him?" she cried, rushing to the boy's side. Disregarding the surrounding thorns and brambles, she lifted the boy into her arms, crushing him to her. She didn't notice the thorns that tore at her arms and dress. "Dominic, sweet boy, are you okay?" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
"It's alright," Charlie whispered, matching his tone to hers. He knelt down to a less-threatening height, trying to put her at ease. "I heard you searching for him. I just found him. I was going to call for you. I think he got caught in the brambles and just fell asleep."
The woman looked astonished to hear him speaking her language. She glanced at his brilliant orange hair and his highly freckled face. "You are…not from here," she said, hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure that she should be talking to him.
"No, I'm from England, but I have worked in your country for many years," Charlie said, relieved that she had spoken. He noticed that she was still regarding him suspiciously and said, "My name is Charlie."
Charlie held out his hand to her, wondering if she would shake it or spit at it. The woman merely looked at his hand. Charlie looked around as if looking for answers. He didn't find any, but he did notice that the sun had set.
"Let me see you home," he said, rising to his feet. He held out his hands to her once more, this time to help her to her feet. When she still didn't respond, he said, "My father would never forgive me if I left you here alone. I would never forgive me. It is dangerous to be out at night now. Please, allow me to see you both back home."
Charlie's gaze was open and honest and appeared to convince her. With a slight nod of her head, she gave him her permission. Stifling a grimace, Charlie helped her to her feet. She still held the child, who now had his eyes open.
"Perhaps you should lead the way, since I don't know where you live," Charlie said, trying to block the pain in his side.
The woman nodded her agreement. She started off in the general direction of the village, walking slightly ahead of Charlie. The boy had yet to say a word, but when he realized they were going back home, he let out a scared little sound.
"It's okay, Dominic. Your father is gone. He won't be bothering you tonight," the woman assured the boy.
Overhearing her whispered remark, Charlie wondered what kind of monster the woman's husband was, but he carried on with his self-appointed duty. Occasionally, the woman glanced back as if to make sure that he was still there. Each time, Charlie smiled reassuringly, but he didn't feel "assured" at all. With each step, the pain in his side seemed to double. By the time they stopped at a meager cottage, beads of sweat had popped out on his brow. He really wasn't up to a row with a demented husband.
The woman opened the door and handed the boy to a girl who looked about 10-years-old. When she turned back toward Charlie, he was slumped up against the doorframe. She seemed to notice for the first time that he was ill and in pain. "You are hurt. Why didn't you say something?"
"I'm okay, really," Charlie managed to say. "I'll just get out of your way. Don't want to…cause trouble…with your husband…"
The woman looked torn between what to do. Finally, she took his arm and said, "Come with me."
"No. Your husband…no trouble," Charlie muttered, straining to make the words come out.
"I have no husband. Let me help you."
Charlie barely glimpsed a clean, tidy living room and kitchen before he was in a comfortable bed and everything went black.