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CHAPTER 2
*** CHARLIE ***
As I walked down the London streets towards MZP, I felt more nervous than I ever did when approaching a nesting dragon. While Hermione had assured me that Pansy did not hate me—that she'd just been having an off day—I still felt uneasy about meeting with her again. I'd felt instantly attracted to her and it was obvious that she didn't return the sentiment.
But I wanted her to.
Since I'd returned to Romania, I'd been trying to think of ways to woo her, to make her see me in a different light. I knew she hated my brother, so I wanted to make myself stand out as different from him in every possible way.
Ron was lazy and liked to take the easy route, relying on his fame to attract women. Most of the time, I just let women come to me as well. Being a dragon tamer had its perks; they usually thought I was a bad boy with a wild side. And I could be. But, more than anything, I wanted to find the right woman to be bad with.
And I wanted to be bad with Pansy Parkinson. Very, very bad.
I wanted to get under her lab robes and figure out exactly what got her cauldron bubbling, for lack of a better term.
So I did something I never would've imagined.
I bought another fucking copy of Advanced Potion Making and I started studying. I read through all the recipes, looking for rare ingredients that were easy to come by if you worked at a dragon sanctuary with access to magical creatures and plenty of exotic flora and fauna. As I read, I made a list. And after I'd read through the whole bloody textbook, I set out to gather all those rare ingredients.
In addition to the dragon scales, I had several phials of dragon blood, raw dragon claws that had been shed, a few dragon heartstrings that had been collected and then passed over by wand makers, and more plant samples than anyone could know what to do with.
If she wasn't impressed by this lot, I wasn't really sure what I'd do next.
When I arrived at the imposing glass-fronted building, I checked in with the receptionist and then moved back to the windows, looking out on the busy street, the anticipation building in my stomach. I'd asked to see Pansy, not Hermione, and that was a gamble.
Hermione could be the perfect buffer until Pansy warmed up to me, but I wanted to see if she behaved the same away around me this time.
The lift dinged and it took all of my self-control to not whip around and make a beeline for her, like some sort of overeager puppy who'd been alone all day and was ready to beg for attention. I waited until I heard her heels hit the floor.
One, two, three, four, five clicking steps…
And I turned.
As I laid eyes on her, I lost the words I'd carefully selected. Her heels made her almost the same height as me and made her legs go on for days. She was wearing fitted trousers and a turquoise blouse that made her eyes look more blue than green. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail; the entire look was both professional and sexy as hell.
She'd stopped about eight steps into the lobby and was looking me over, as well. I walked towards her and smiled.
"It's good to see you again, Pansy," I greeted, and she arched an eyebrow.
"I don't think we're quite that familiar yet, Mr Weasley."
I laughed. "Well, last time I saw you, I did insist that you call me Charlie, given the large number of Mr Weasleys in this part of the world."
"Well, as far as I know, I'm the only Ms Parkinson," she replied. "So you can stick to that for now. This is just business, after all."
Even if she was being a little standoffish, she had already managed to speak more words to me in a matter of seconds than she had the last time I'd seen her.
"Okay, Ms Parkinson. Let's head to your office. On top of the dragon scales, I brought you a few more things to consider."
Though she played it cool, I could tell I'd piqued her curiosity. The corners of her lips quirked up the tiniest amount and she gestured towards the lift.
I let her lead the way since this was her turf. I would give her every advantage if it meant I'd eventually get a shot.
We rode up in silence, Pansy looking anywhere but at me. Her cheeks were a bit flushed and it looked like she was squeezing her thighs together, though I couldn't be sure.
Once we stepped out of the lift, she said, "So, will you always be the one bringing the scales?"
"Not sure, but it's convenient. I get to come and visit for a day or two."
Pansy nodded, guiding me down the corridor to her office. Hermione's door was closed, but I caught a glimpse of her through the door of Draco's office, smiling as she leaned over his shoulder and looked at something.
With a huff, Pansy said, "They're so happy it's disgusting."
My breath almost caught at her words — this was my chance. It was my chance to let her know that I was happy for Hermione, that I didn't side with my brother, that I thought what he'd done was unforgivable.
"She deserves nothing but happiness after what Ron put her through."
My words were simple, to the point. They made my stance clear enough.
Pansy led me into her office without answering. After I entered, she waved her hand, closing the door. "I'm glad you feel that way. If you didn't, you'd be out on your arse faster than you could even imagine."
I held my hands up in surrender. "I promise you, Hermione is my friend. Ron may be my brother, but he's an arsehole."
"Fucking right he is," she responded. "Why don't you sit down?"
Before I settled in, I took the bag of ingredients out of my pocket. Opening it up, I found the requested dragon scales and handed her the jar. Our fingers almost touched as she took it from me, and I was nearly mortified that I was feeling sad that they hadn't.
Her fingernails were painted black today and I found that surprising, given her high-society pureblood upbringing. Pinks, natural tones, reds… Those were the norm. But black was edgy and I liked it. It showed that she was different.
"These are excellent, Charlie," she said with a small smile. "I've never seen scales preserved this well."
"It's easier to preserve them in that little jar than to heal them and protect them from the sun in the wild," I replied. "They should always look like that, Ms Parkinson."
She looked up. "If you really hate your brother, I suppose you can call me Pansy. I had to be sure of your character before I could allow it."
"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," I teased. "I guess I didn't need to bring this extra stuff for you, after all."
Tilting her head to one side, Pansy examined me warily. "You brought me more things to try and win me over?"
"I did."
"I'm not the kind of pureblood girl who can be swayed by gifts—"
"What about ingredients, potion girl?" I interrupted.
"Potion girl?" she repeated. "What kind of name is that?"
"I like it. I think it's cute, and it suits you. I think that's what I'll call you."
I could tell she was trying to look angry, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that told me she actually loved it. "I just told you that you could call me Pansy."
With a wave, I said, "Everyone calls you Pansy. I'm not everyone." She didn't answer, and I was afraid I'd taken the teasing too far. "So, you never said if you could be swayed by ingredients."
Looking at me coolly, she replied, "It depends on the ingredient. Let's see what you've got in that sack, Charlie."
My mind debated making a filthy joke, but I thought it might be too soon to be that forward with her, so I reached in and grabbed something at random.
"So, item number one is a piece of heartstring taken from a Chinese Fireball."
She wore an unimpressed look. "I'm not a wandmaker. That's useless."
"Item number two," I began, pulling out a small glass jar. "Seedpods, or hips, from Romanian Dog Roses, Rosa canina."
"And what do you think I can do with seeds for a rose plant?"
I shrugged. "These roses are native to Romania. I figured there might be something different about them. At the very least, I'm sure Hermione could plant them and grow them."
"Next," Pansy said, like she was taking customers in a checkout queue.
Looking into the bag, I found the next item. "Freshly shed dragon claws?"
Her eyes widened. "Did you powder them?"
I shook my head. "The potions book said it's best to powder them closer to the time of use."
"You looked it up?" she asked.
"I did. I wanted everything to be right for you."
Once again, her cheeks flushed the tiniest amount. "Right. I appreciate that."
"So, have I won you over yet? Or should I keep going?"
She smirked. "Keep going. I want it all."
"I also have some dragon blood," I said, pulling out the unbreakable bottle. "We had a fight between two males this week, hence the shed claws and the blood. It's too hard to draw blood from a dragon without sedating it, so this is pretty rare."
"Isn't there some kind of extraction spell?" she mused aloud. "If there isn't, someone should develop one."
Shrugging, I pulled the next item out. "A cluster of celestine."
As she looked at the pale blue crystals, she smiled. "It's pretty, but I'm not really sure what you expect me to do with it as an ingredient."
"You use powdered moonstone and other stones in potions, yeah?"
"I suppose. I'll have to do more research, see if it's good for anything."
With a grin, I said, "You're a hard woman to impress, Pansy. I'm all out of offerings."
Rising to her feet, she gestured that I should do the same. "Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. I'll take you on a tour of the lab if you'd like. I don't have students today, so it's far less chaotic."
"I'd love that, potion girl. Lead the way."
She rolled her eyes. "Do not call me that in front of my staff. I will hex your bollocks clear off."
"But what about my future children?"
I had wanted to tease her, to say what about our future children, but she was still too skittish to accept that kind of flirtation.
"There are enough Weasleys already," she replied, but I could tell she didn't seriously mean it. "I don't think you need to worry about the family name living on."
"Well, that's true enough," I conceded.
Laughing, Pansy led me back to the lift and we rode down to the second floor, heading into her lab. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she wrapped a lab robe around her shoulders and pulled one from a shelf for me. I raised an eyebrow.
"Everyone that comes in here for more than a quick introduction has to wear one. It's to protect you and the integrity of any experiments in progress," she explained, her voice steady and sure, the complete opposite of the last time we were in this room. "If you want to see what we're working on, you need to wear the robe."
I took it from her and shrugged it on, buttoning it up the way she had. Once I was properly dressed, she gestured for me to follow her.
"As you can see, we have twenty-five different stations here. When I'm not teaching in this main lab, we're generally brewing things we have to mass produce."
Her fingertips ran along the stone bench we were passing by, drawing my eyes to her fingernails again and making me think about how they'd feel clawing at my shoulders, scratching down my spine, digging into my thighs as she balanced on my lap. Gods, I wanted that, to feel those little bites of pain while I pleasured her.
"—not for research. I don't let the new recipes into this lab until I'm certain they're perfect," she continued, and I hoped I hadn't missed anything truly important while I was fantasising. "Honestly, I hate how this lab looks, all sterile and boring. But Draco insists that everything be like this."
Again, she gestured with her hands, drawing my eyes to them and driving me crazy.
"It's like the lobby," I said, trying to focus on the conversation. "Nothing extra or unnecessary."
Pansy nodded. "Yeah. Neat and orderly. Honestly, if he were anyone else, I would've told him to shove his rules up his arse." Her words were biting, but she smiled. "But Draco, Blaise and I have been through a lot together, and I love being here, especially now that Granger's on board, too."
"She does seem to fit in."
"Anyway, through that door over there, I have my private lab," she said, changing the subject and continuing the tour. "But between the main lab and mine, there is a big storeroom for ingredients that aren't used frequently enough to keep them out in the main space."
Examining my surroundings, I realised there was no one in the lab at all, and she'd mentioned having a staff.
"Where is everyone?" I asked.
"I'm sure they're all having lunch or coffee or something," she replied, averting her eyes and making me wonder if she'd told them to clear out.
Had she wanted to be alone with me in here?
"Right. Well, keep the tour going, then. I'm enjoying it thus far."
Looking at me quizzically, she spread her arms. "This is it. Did you want a detailed map of where we keep everything? To inspect each individual cauldron?"
I laughed. "No, of course not. You haven't shown me your lab, though."
Pansy cleared her throat. "I don't let just anyone into my lab, Charlie."
"Why not?"
"A woman's lab is very… personal."
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress my smile. "Personal? How is a lab personal?"
When she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, I knew I hadn't managed to keep a straight face. "How do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"Make me say stupid things!"
"Potion girl, last time I was here, you hardly said anything at all," I answered, taking a step towards her. "I'm glad you're not tongue-tied this time. And what you said wasn't stupid."
"You wanted to laugh. I could tell."
"I thought it was cute."
Immediately, I knew that had been the wrong thing to say. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not cute."
Since I had no idea how she would react, I just met her eyes, hoping she saw that I was being serious.
She huffed. "Why do you think it's cute?"
"You're just… different. Unexpected. You know you command attention, but when you get it, you try to hide. And now that you're all flustered, it's actually quite adorable."
It was honest, and she seemed to take it at face value.
"I'm like Granger. She's brilliant, but hates the notoriety."
"Are you saying you're brilliant?"
She gave me a haughty look. "I'm not Granger brilliant, but I can hold my own."
"I'm sure you can." I dared to take her hand. "But don't ever compare yourself to her."
"Why?" She scowled and ripped her hand from mine. "Because I'm beneath her? Because she's a genius and I'm not?"
"No, that's not what I meant." I leaned in and touched her cheek. "You are not her, and she's not you. You work in different fields, and from what I've seen, you are a genius when it comes to all of this." I glanced around quickly, then returned my gaze to hers. "Hermione is a brilliant witch, everyone knows that, but so are you. And I won't let anyone, including yourself, say otherwise."
Her scowl dropped and she fought her smile — unsuccessfully.
"You're quite the sweet talker, Charlie Weasley. I'm surprised you don't have a line of starry-eyed bints behind you."
"Who says I don't?"
She glanced over my shoulder making me laugh, then looked back at me. "Not seeing any."
"Well, I may have lied. I don't really go for the bints. I prefer smart women, the ones I can actually talk to. Women who went to school to learn, not just fawn over the boys. Strong women who aren't afraid to speak their minds, who know what they want and don't let anything stand in their way."
"Smooth," she chuckled. "Did you do an extra year at charm school?"
"No. I was taught respect from the strong woman who raised me."
"Molly did well with you at least."
"She did well with most of us."
I let my words hang between us, let her decide for herself exactly what I meant.
She nodded and smiled. "Well, thank the goddesses for that."
"Every one of them," I agreed. "So, have I charmed you into giving me access to your lab?"
"Fine," she huffed through a laugh. "You haven't charmed me, but I'll let you into my lab. Keep your hands to yourself, though. I don't need you touching anything of mine without permission."
I held both my hands up and grinned. "I wouldn't dream of touching anything of yours without your permission, potion girl."
She bit her lip, holding something back, and I longed to know what it was. Before I could think of a way to ask, she turned and started moving towards the door that led to her lab. I followed in her wake, my eyes roaming over her.
"So, it looks a bit different from the rest of the building," Pansy began, her voice sounding like a warning. "But I told Draco that my personal lab was mine and that we never had to show it to anyone."
"I work with dragons," I reminded her. "I don't always have tidy conditions. I'm sure I won't be shocked and appalled by the state of your lab."
But as she held open the door and ushered me through, I was somewhat surprised at the state it was in. The absolute sterility of the main lab was not reflected in here. This was more like the potion dungeon at Hogwarts. A large wooden table held place in the centre of the room, four cauldrons that had seen better days sat atop it. Ingredients were strewn across the table and surrounding workbenches, potion bottles were toppled over, and the floor didn't look like it had been swept in weeks.
It was yet another glimpse into who this woman really was.
"Don't judge me," she said, biting her lip again. "I'm not usually this untidy, but it's a mess in here because it should be. Draco doesn't agree, but potions are meant to be messy—"
"I'm not judging you," I assured her and picked up a toppled over bottle. "This reminds me of potions class; it's how things should be."
She glanced around, "Snape would never have allowed this."
"No, probably not. But like you said, this is your space, you can do as you wish with it."
Her eyes flicked to the front of my jeans before she quickly looked away. I bit back my smirk; with one quick glance she confirmed my earlier observation. And I wondered if I could actually convince her to allow me permission to touch something of hers and discover just how tightly her thighs were squeezed together.
I picked up another bottle, and held it up. "What are you brewing?"
"Um…. actually it's, ah, a longer lasting contraceptive potion." Her cheeks flushed and she fidgeted with a stray leaf on the workbench.
"Longer lasting?"
"Yeah," she replied, but didn't look up. "It would only have to be taken once a week instead of every day. It's more expensive than a single daily dose, but less expensive than a week's worth of potions."
"And you came up with this?"
She nodded in response.
"Well, the women of this world will certainly thank you."
"It's not just for women." She finally looked up at me. "Men can take it too."
"Men? Wow," I shook my head in wonder at her. "I think my statement was correct. Women will definitely thank you."
"Maybe, but our biggest problem will be getting all of you precious men to take it."
I uncorked the small bottle and sniffed. It had a slightly pungent odour but wasn't unpleasant. "It's safe?"
"Perfectly safe."
I winked at her and swallowed the contents of the bottle. "I'm good for a week?"
"Yeah." She frowned at me. "I'm sure the line-up of bints will be grateful."
"And I already told you, there's no line up."
"So why'd you drink it?"
"I live in hope, potion girl." I placed the bottle back on the workbench and stared at her. "I always live in hope."
*** PANSY ***
After Charlie walked out of my lab, I looked around and examined the mess more thoroughly. Yes, potion making was supposed to be dirty, but even I had to admit that this was on the extreme side.
The previous night, I'd spent hours working on a new brew and by the time I was finished, I couldn't have cared less about wayward bits of ingredients and tipped-over bottles. I'd bottled the potion and then locked up, Apparating back to my flat and collapsing into bed.
It had been after ten o'clock, and I'd arrived at MZP around eight that morning.
With a sigh, I started cleaning up, casting a gentler cleaning charm than a Scourgify on the cauldrons and vanishing the spare bits of sliced valerian root and dried-up newt spleen. I thought of Molly Weasley — the consummate housewife — and I couldn't imagine her space ever being in such a state. Hell, even Ginny Weasley was masterful at household spells, and she'd been away playing Quidditch for years. Gods, I could only imagine the looks on their faces.
And then I started to wonder why the fuck I cared about what the Weasley matriarch would think of me and my messy workspace in the first place.
While I was tidying up and trying to burn off this feeling Charlie had caused in me, I hardly noticed time passing or the sounds around me. A chuckle came from the doorway and I looked up, finding Draco leaning against the door jamb.
"Don't let me stop you, Pansy," he began, a teasing tone in his voice. "I was just wondering what the special occasion was."
Narrowing my eyes, I said, "Fuck off."
"If you're cleaning this disaster area, I'm genuinely concerned."
I dropped my wand onto the workbench, making a satisfying clatter. "What do you want? Don't you and Granger have somewhere to be? Like at the beach house shagging?"
He looked at his watch. "It's only three. I'm not due to shag her until six."
With a shake of my head, I moved to the other side of the room and started organising the askew jars on the shelf.
"Did you actually need something? Or are you just here to bother me?"
Draco moved closer, stepping up beside me and straightening a few boxes. "I ran into Charlie when he was on his way out. He said he brought you some ingredients."
I couldn't stop my traitorous lips from smiling.
"He did. Good stuff, too. Dragon scales and blood and shed claws and some other things I'll have to research a bit," I began, continuing to neaten the ingredients I kept in my private stores. "He even looked up how to preserve and store everything."
"Well, that was good of him."
"Brilliant, really."
In my peripheral vision, I saw Draco examining my face, and I wondered if Blaise had put him up to this. If he had, I'd Avada him so fucking fast.
"Blaise told him we'd all like to come out to Romania for a look at the dragon sanctuary." He turned towards me and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Charlie said he would try to make arrangements for that."
Shaking my head, I said, "I've no interest in going to Romania. For anything. I already told Blaise that."
"But they have baby dragons there."
"I'm well aware, Draco, but I've got a lot on my plate presently. I'm in the middle of developing or improving at least five potions, and I can't be away from the lab for days—"
"We have a perfectly capable staff, Pansy."
"Yes, well, I can't entrust these projects to just anyone," I stated, hoping he'd understand that I was quite literally begging him to stop pushing. "It's not like we have another potioneer at my level, and I don't think we're at the point where we can hire one yet."
"Fine. If you don't want to come to Romania, you don't have to. But Blaise—"
"Blaise needs to mind his own fucking business."
He held his hands up in surrender. "I get it. He likes to meddle but, if I'm not mistaken, you weren't exactly silent when things started between Hermione and me."
Groaning in frustration, I moved away from him. "Yes, well, I watched you pine after her for years. I have interacted with Charlie Weasley exactly two times now. There's no need for the two of you to get involved. It's like I told Blaise — he lives in Romania and I live here. There's nothing to meddle in."
"Pansy—"
"Stop. Just because you're disgustingly happy and in love doesn't mean I am too. Or that I need to be, for that matter."
He just shook his head. "I don't understand why you have to be so difficult. The bloke seems interested in you. He was smiling when he talked about seeing your lab."
That made me pause.
"And then he told me that he'd be coming back later this week."
I felt my throat tighten, so I cleared it. "Why's he coming back?"
Draco shrugged. "Not sure, since there's apparently nothing to meddle in."
And, like the maddening arsehole he was, he turned and walked out, leaving me to think on what he'd just said.
