When told that several dragons from the Reserve would be transported to Britain for the Triwizard Tournament, Charlie thought they were joking. He hoped they were joking. Whoever had organized this particular task had to have been completely mental if thinking that bringing dragons into a school filled with children was in any way an excellent idea. They were dangerous animals, tame or wild, and he had the scars and burns to prove.
Any kind of safety precautions—any—and he'd be happy. But the wizards in charge either knew next to nothing about dragons or lacked any sense at all. He had his galleons on the latter.
The dragons hadn't been moved out of the Sanctuary for things like this in years and so Charlie had watched the first couple rounds with mild worry. The queens had not reacted well to such a drastic change in their nesting grounds and they were taking that out on the young humans who had been tasked to face them. And though the students weren't safe from the dragons, that didn't mean the Champions wouldn't be able to harm them in return.
While the Diggory boy had cleverly attempted to draw the queen away from her nest with a Transfigured rock, the others had gone for more direct approaches that had left Charlie with a bitter taste in his mouth and his teeth on edge.
The point was to get the egg without harming the queen or the other eggs in the process. But that didn't mean the eggs were safe when the queen spotted an aggressor going for her nest. She was as liable to crush them as protect them. There was a reason dragons were endangered species. And once you added seventeen year old witches and wizards who didn't understand dragons into the mix . . . Charlie thought the whole thing was a stupid idea from the beginning, and had said so multiple times while preparing the dragons for transport to Britain. No one had disagreed, but there was nothing they could do anyway.
Unwelding his back teeth, Charlie glared down into the arena as the Hungarian Horntail he'd just helped situate got comfortable around her transplanted nest of eggs and one gold fake. The handlers had been curtly dismissed back to the stands, another bad decision in the lost list of bad decisions. The handlers needed to be on hand if things got out of control. But the organizers had claimed everything would go smoothly.
He could hear Fred and George gathering bets during lulls between Champions, their loud voices overlapping and blending with the chatter. He'd have to catch them sometime after the Task, catch up with them without the possible threat of their mother dominating the conversation. Leaning his scarred forearms on the railing, Charlie let his gaze wander to the stands, instantly picking out the bright shock of Ron's hair. His youngest brother was growing into his height, looking less like a child and more like a man. More like Dad.
Ron was hanging over the railing with a brown-haired girl beside him—and when did he get a girlfriend? It was obvious they were waiting for the last round, Ron's best friend.
When Harriet Potter was introduced as the next—and last—Champion, he could feel something cold settle between his ribs. He knew Harry—well, knew of her. And any eleven year old with the guts to smuggle a dragon hatchling out of Hogwarts had his whole-hearted respect. It didn't hurt that almost every one of Ron's letters in the years that followed mentioned the girl in some way or another. So while Charlie had never met the girl in person, over the years he felt he had gained a general sense of her personality.
Which was why he was surprised at just how tiny she was, dressed in her Triwizard robes and blinking up at the sun. Charlie wasn't sure why that bothered him.
The other contenders were seventeen years old, legal adults in the Wizarding world, they knew how to protect themselves. Harry . . . She was like Ron. And he couldn't imagine Ron in this same scenario. Fourteen and prepared to face down a Hungarian Horntail, the most savage dragon they had in the Reserve.
And right now—he had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
She was standing in front of the gate, wand raised but not moving. She looked like she'd lost her nerve.
He swiped the omnioculars from Stavos and peered down into the arena. The Horntail was watching Harry with suspicion, her long tail flicking ominously. He knew the moment Harry moved towards her, made any motion towards the nest, the game would be on.
When Harry flicked her wand and her lips moved in a spell he couldn't hear from this distance and nothing happened, there was an awful feeling of surprise and sinking despair. The silence was deafening and he felt mortified for her sake.
He hadn't expected the broomstick. After years of Quidditch stories from his brother, he should've. He really should've.
It came soaring into the arena and Harry grabbed it with an ease that spoke of long hours of practice and an innate love of flying. Mounted up and zipping around the edges of the arena in seconds, she was suddenly the most interesting thing to the Horntail queen. Everyone in the stands was on their feet, hollering and cheering her on.
It was obvious she was unwilling to inflict harm on the Horntail, no matter how vicious the queen got. Charlie found himself leaning forward on the railing, watching the girl's movements. She was sharp on a broom and he could now understand Ron and Wood's ravings over the girl's skills as a Seeker. It'd been so long since he'd played an actual Quidditch match himself, not counting the pick-up games on the Reserve with the other trainers. And while he'd prided himself on being one of the best Hogwarts Seekers in a hundred years, he could tell this girl had the clear beginnings of one even better.
Apparently Stavos had the same idea, as he gave a low whistle from beside Charlie. "She's almost as good as you are. Someone said she plays Seeker too?"
"Started when she was just eleven, if you can believe it." He couldn't look away from that small crimson streak, Tournament robes snapping behind her.
"I can believe it. It's like watching an actual Quidditch match."
Charlie shared a glance with his fellow handler. "Could you imagine Quidditch with dragons?" They stared at each other before bursting into laughter. Charlie could easily envision the adrenaline-soaked insanity.
He watched as she executed a complicated twist to avoid a gout of flame and then dropped into a dead-on dive. His heart jumped into his throat while around him the crowd roared with approval. He knew that move, had attempted it only twice playing for Gryffindor. The second attempt landing himself in the hospital wing with a broken arm and fractured collarbone. He could hear Ron and his brown-haired friend screaming over the ruckus. "Pull up, pull up, Harry!"
But with a dragon on her tail, she wouldn't break from the dive. Charlie's eyes narrowed as he examined her trajectory, mentally calculating the exact moment she'd let up. Even from here he could see the intense focus on her face. The Horntail surged after her, and with another sharp twist Harry had pulled up and away, leaving the dragon to slam into the ground.
Enraged, the queen was back on her feet and Stavos was practically hanging off the railing, shouting alongside the rest of the crowd. Charlie's fingers tightened around the railing, almost as if he could feel the handle of a broom himself. Ron said she spent every school holiday at the Burrow. The next time he forced himself to return home for the hols, he might just challenge Harry to a Seeker's match, just to pit her skills against his.
Harry led the dragon around the perimeter of the arena, her robes snapping behind her as if taunting her pursuer. The magical barrier the organizers had placed over the arena didn't keep them from feeling the heat of dragonfire.
"Her laps are kind of pointless, aren't they?" Stavos hummed.
Pointless? The never-ending goose chase with the dragon on her tail was anything but pointless. "She's trying to tire out the Horntail," Charlie murmured in response. "Smart girl. No need to fight when you can run."
His friend gave him a side-glance. "Got a crush, do we? She flies better than you."
"You're no less starry-eyed than I am," Charlie snorted. "Admit it, you're already thinking of ways to get her an internship at the Reserve."
"True," Stavos concedes with a grin. Whatever else he was about to say was drowned in a surprised roar from the crowd as both broomstick and dragon shot towards the sky, towards the apex of the protection dome the Tournament organizers had cast. The Horntail's massive wings propelled it after Harry, fury in the dragon's eyes. It was instinct to chase away any intruders from the nest, but Charlie could see the faint lag in the Horntail queen's wing beats as she glided back down after her small prey.
"We're on standby," Stavos said abruptly, pointing down at the arena gate. Charlie followed his fellow handler's gaze to where Iulia was gesturing to them. Charlie pushed back from the railing, only to freeze as Harry sped past him. It was only a glimpse, but she was tilted nearly sideways on her broom and there was a look of such intense concentration on her bespectacled face.
Another blast of fire whipped after Harry, close enough to singe the trailing hem of her robes. Charlie could feel the heat of it against his chilled face.
"Get prepped," the other handler said before slipping away. Charlie scrabbled distractedly for where he'd deposited his dragonskin gloves, tugging them on. He wasn't sure why this round felt so much more different than the other three. The uneasiness he'd felt with the other Champions had been completely absent from Harry's go, all there'd been was the excitement he'd felt when seeing the World Cup for the first time.
A roar of sound shattered his thoughts and Charlie came back to himself just in time to realize it was the sound of cheers and exultant screams. The egg has been retrieved, he distantly heard an announcer call. It was suddenly over and he'd missed it.
His attention snapped back to the girl flying above the arena, the sunlight glinting on gold in her hand. It was a dragon's egg, not a Snitch, but it made no difference.
Charlie Weasley was in love.
.