One problem that was often stressed to the point of lunacy was poaching.

The Dragon Patch had been created to deal with this problem and that it did. Poaching was much rarer these days and more easily prevented, but at times, Charlie felt his head was going to pop if he heard another word about it, not to mention listen through Amira's lectures and rules.

But while Amira's lectures were nearly bearable and made sense at times, Charlie found the rules intrusive and patronising.

For the first year, nobody was allowed to send out letters without checking them by the supervisors first. Apparently, many poachers tried to infiltrate the reserve and send their friends details about the way things worked. The first letter Charlie sent was just a week after he'd gotten there. The ones following that were shorter and sketchier, written half-heartedly, almost out of obligation.

While he received many letters from his family and absolutely ached to write back, his enthusiasm was cut down by the knowledge that someone else was going to poke through his letters and find out all these details about his personal life and his family. He considered magically coding his letters, for a time, but realised they'd probably figure it out and he'd be kicked out.

Charlie never really understood the insane amount of precautions at first.

---

Flavius Pallady was a middle-aged man with dusty brown hair and thick glasses. He had a stiff demeanour, he rarely smiled (and even then, it was in a distinctly eerie fashion) and he could always be found at Amira's side, either reciting the rulebook or making mental notes (he had a frighteningly good memory). But most of all, he creeped people out.

Flavius was Amira's second cousin several times removed and had been assigned as her advisor (or secretary, some would say) by Ariadne Dragomir. It was common knowledge that Flavius had his fair share of biases against Muggleborn wizards, if only because it had been instilled in him since birth.

Despite this, Flavius was integral to the workings of the Dragon Patch, mainly because of his knowledge of English, German, French, Russian and, to some extent, Ukrainian. This was part of the reason he creeped people out; no one was entitled to know so many languages. At any rate, in such a multi-cultural space, a person of his skill was necessary.

At times, Charlie had heard him be reffered to as "the bad omen." According to Morgan, when Flavius came to talk to you, it was either because you'd been blacklisted or because they're throwing you out.

So when the Weasley saw Mr. Pallady (as the workers were supposed to call him) purposely heading his way, he was filled with a sense of dread. For the shortest while, he wondered if they'd somehow found out he'd wanted to code his letters home, before realising how ridiculous that thought was.

"Weasley?" he asked with that dark, rumbling voice of his. Charlie nodded, feeling his stomach come up to his throat. "In Amira's office in fifteen minutes."

Then, Flavius turned on his heels and left.

Charlie just wanted to run in the opposite direction, but Morgan nudged him and gave him a reassuring wink.

"If he wanted to send you off, he'd have said so. Go on, it sounds important."

Charlie only nodded numbly.

---

After a few seconds in which Charlie and Amira stared at each other, each apparently intent on looking more sulky than the other, Flavius cleared his throat. Amira glared at him, but returned to look at Charlie.

"As you know, poaching is a serious issue for us," she started.

"Is this about my letters?" Charlie asked in spite of himself.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow. "No, it's about Marika."

"Marika the... dragon, ma'am?" Charlie's voice was full of dread. Marika was a Norwegian Ridgeback living on the mountains just outside his window. Charlie would often wake up in his decrepit shack, feeling sore and displeased, but one look out the window at Marika's nest, and he'd immediatly perk up, reminding himself that he was here because he loved dragons and that his job was perfect, after all.

Amira sighed.

"We counted her hatchlings this morning. There are only two." She seemed to get sulkier by the minute. "Last spring, we counted three eggs."

"Someone stole an egg?" Charlie asked, amazed. "But how? The security measures-- Marika guards her egg all the time-- she--" He stopped, at a loss for words.

"Last summer, Marika got sick," Amira mumbled, something akin to embarassment in her voice. "We had to drag her over here and keep her under supervision for the night. We left the eggs unattended for half an hour, because we were short-handed. I think... there was an inspection from the ministry at the time. One of them could have... stolen the egg."

"What!" Charlie asked again, this time nearly yelling, "They're the ones that're supposed to make sure the dragons are alright! Why would they steal an egg? What kind of Ministry of Magic do you people have here!"

Flavius glared. Amira scowled. Charlie realised that screaming at one's employers is rarely a good move, unless you plan to not have employers anymore.

"The reason you're here," Amira hissed, "is because we need someone to check the records at the Ministry and find out who was part of the inspection that month."

"Why don't yo go?" Charlie asked, now put off and feeling exhausted.

"Because we never have anything to deal with the Ministry and they'd find it suspicious if we went there and asked to see public records. They'd most likely refuse to show us anything. You, on the other hand, are the newest worker and foreign on top of that."

"Not to mention they've called you," Flavius added serenely.

"Called me?" Charlie dryswallowed.

"Called you," Amira nodded. "Something about an application you submitted that didn't quite go through."

"What do you mean, 'didn't go through'?"

"A loose owl ate it," she replied gruffly.

"Ah."