A/N: I'm so overwhelmed by how much you guys are liking this one. Thanks ever so much for all the delightful reviews you've been leaving for me. They're all so sweet and wonderful and I adore you all. I hope you like this chapter. More soon, I promise. Much love! xx-Kitten
Let it Burn
By Kittenshift17
Chapter 4: Simmer
He strode ahead of her, using his wand to unlock the gate. Hermione watched carefully as he did it, committing the wrist movement and the incantation to memory for future reference so that she'd know how to get in on her own.
"You won't be able to get in here unescorted for a few weeks," Charlie told her as he let her through the gate, "They have to make sure you're not some crazy person here to smuggle the dragons, steal the eggs, slay the dragons or otherwise interfere with the purpose of the dragons. Those inside the sanctum are the most at risk because they're sick, injured, in need of monitoring or nesting females. Until we're certain you're not going to bail on the job or do something reckless, you won't be able to access the area. Your magical signature as to be added to the wards otherwise any magic you do to try and open the sanctum won't work."
Hermione nodded her head as she walked beside him, entering the sanctum for the first time in her life. It was warm inside.
"Once you're inside, your magic will work when it comes to self-defense spells if the dragons get stroppy with you or try and eat you or me. You'll need your wand on you at all times because they're unpredictable, especially when they're sick or nesting," Charlie went on, leading her into a long corridor with a supply room at the end.
He led her inside and began gathering supplies. Hermione watched as he grabbed two wheelbarrows and began filling them with things. Scrubbing brushes with long metal bristles. Shovels. Buckets. A number of products and things. When both were full, he led her back out of the room, and into one filled with potions, vials, and injections before assembling a tray.
"Now," Charlie said when a number of supplies for the day's tasks were organized. He stopped and stood before her, his arms folded over his chest as he stared down into her eyes.
Hermione found her gaze jumping to the way his arm and shoulder muscles bulged when they were bunched up like that and she tried to ignore the way the simmering, lusty fire low in her belly began to grow.
"How much did Suzy tell you about the first day of training, Hermione?" Charlie asked her and Hermione lifted her gaze to meet those smoldering brown eyes.
They were like the color of tea with sunlight shining through it. Rich and warm and inviting. Hermione was sure she could stare into them all day long and still never be able to name every color of those striations. Like the rich shades of autumn, they were bright a beautiful and she'd never thought anyone had eyes as beautiful as Charlie did.
"She said you guys put the newbies through the paces, pulling out every disgusting, nauseating, dangerous and horrible thing that this job can entail on any given day to make sure you don't waste weeks training someone who will bail at the first sign of scale-rot," Hermione told him truthfully, "That you prefer to scare off the newbie who can't handle it before having to bother with teaching them things and giving them responsibility they end up shirking."
Charlie nodded his head, watching her eyes carefully for any sign that the idea bothered her. Hermione knew he wouldn't find any.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Hermione," Charlie told her, "But today is going to suck. It'd have been hard enough on you getting through your first day with Marla, but you're probably going to want to hex me by the time we knock-off tonight. The fact that I know you from outside of this job means everyone thinks I'm going to take it easy on you. I'm not going to do that. Do you know why?"
"Because it will interfere with my ability to be an effective part of the team if I'm ill-prepared, and because it will make both of us look bad if anyone thinks I was spared the need to do or learn something just because we're practically family," Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not going to ask you to go easy on me, Charlie."
"If Marla hadn't been hurt, I'd have been able to look out for you without making your life hell," he told her quietly, his eyes dancing over her face, "I know you can handle hell, but that's not really the point. They're all going to be watching you pretty closely and people like Amy will rat you out if it looks like you're not being trained properly or like our relationship outside of the job is in any way affecting the professional relationship."
"I know," Hermione told him, "I get the feeling she doesn't like me much."
"She's jealous of you," Charlie informed her, "You're a celebrity who helped take down the most powerful Dark wizard of all time. You're a genius. And you're friends with me."
"Why does she care that you're friends with me?" Hermione asked, fishing for details on just what kind of relationship he and Amy shared that would make her think Hermione was a threat to it.
"We dated for a bit," Charlie admitted, "But it burned out when I realized she's not what I'm looking for. She hasn't forgiven me or moved on yet."
"I see," Hermione said quietly, frowning at the idea that he'd been with Amy in the past even if he no longer was.
The idea bothered her more than it had any right to until Hermione remembered that she'd once dated his brother. She imagined that idea probably bothered Charlie too. Or might do if he ever realized she fancied him.
"Anyway, they're going to be on the lookout for any sign that you're getting an easy run. I'm not going to give you one, Hermione. As a boss, I'm an arsehole. This place isn't run nearly effectively enough and we're on the brink of the breeding season. Things are about to get crazy and it's the worst time to have three of the Tamers out of commission with their injuries but there's nothing for it," Charlie shook his head, "It means you're in for a pretty rough ride. I'm a hard-arse on newbies at the best of times, and I'm going to push you harder than I push anyone else because I know you can handle it and I know that you won't thank me for taking it easy on you. You like being challenged."
Hermione nodded, pleased he knew that much about her.
"They weren't kidding either when they said none of them would be able to take on the entire sanctum alone and that it was insane to make you do it," he warned her, "But I am going to make you. I'll be helping you for the first week or two, but after that, the sanctum will be your domain, Hermione. It's hard work. The dragons are ornery. They're messy and there's more to this part of the job than the other things Tamers usually handle with the dragons in their enclosures out there. But I need you to handle it. With the breeding season, plus Marla's shit all landing on me until she's back in the game, I'm going to be hard-pressed handling my own shit so the sooner you can handle things here, the easier it will be."
Hermione nodded again, absorbing his words and realizing that all that intensity of his was going to get the entire reserve through the breeding season with as few incidents and as many pregnant female dragons as possible.
"I can handle it," Hermione told him, "Show me what to do."
Charlie smiled at her then and it was a wicked, sinful type of smile that almost made her knees buckle.
"First we feed 'em. Now, don't bother trying to get their medicine in their morning meal because they won't eat it and they'll be bastards for the rest of the day as a result. Every dragon has a schedule for what they need to be fed, what they need to be dosed with, and whatever else they need to be done to make sure they're being looked after," Charlie explained, uncrossing his arms and beckoning her as he strode off down a hall and through a door.
Hermione wrinkled her nose slightly at the smells as they entered a feedlot. It was filled with cattle. Charlie glanced at her for her reaction at the idea that they were the food the dragons would be fed. The room he led her into was a platform that overlooked the feedlot where the cattle were fed, showing where they were kept. They looked healthy and happy if she was being honest. They fed from the grain bins and they milled around together. It was a large space to accommodate the large number of cattle they needed to keep on-site to feed the dragons.
"This is actually the easy part of the day," Charlie told her, "Now of a morning, the dragons are all fed one each. Are you watching?"
Hermione looked away from the milling cattle to where he was standing in front of a switchboard of some kind. She watched as Charlie began to push the buttons. Large metal segmentations began popping up around the feeding cattle, enclosing them in a sealed metal cage. They came out of the floor, closing around the cow before lowering into the ground once more, leaving that grain bin empty.
It was done in such a way that the other cattle didn't even flinch and Hermione marveled at the ability of magic once more.
"Now each one that's grabbed is transported into those cages down a pipe that feeds into the dragon enclosures. It deposits them out in the dragon cages and generally the dragons do the rest. They prefer to roast them before they eat them, but keep an eye on them to make sure they do actually get eaten. Nothing worse than going into a cage with a dragon who hasn't had his breakfast while the meal races around in a panic, bawling, and lowing to be set loose."
"Delightful," Hermione wrinkled her nose at the imagery.
Charlie chuckled, "Now, there are a few exceptions for feeding. Prometheus is blind and doesn't know how to hunt, so his breakfast needs to be delivered pre-cooked and ready to eat. Which is this button."
Hermione watched Charlie push another button that killed and roasted one of the cattle inside its cage before it slid down a tube and into a trough inside the enclosure that must belong to Prometheus.
"And the nesting females won't leave their nests to hunt don't the food, so generally they don't get fed. They're a bit like chickens in that regard. They start nesting and they stop eating while they sit on all those eggs."
"So how do I clean their cages, medicate them or care for them if they're egg-crazed and hungry?" Hermione asked.
"We give them some treats," Charlie told her, "Come on, I'll show you."
He led her to a separate panel that was labeled 'Nesters'
"Now the nesting enclosures are smaller than the others because the females don't need much space while they're all curled up on their eggs. They generally like to be left alone to hatch their eggs and since they aren't eating much, they usually don't need to have their cages cleaned very often either because they aren't shitting either."
"Right," Hermione said, "My parents never kept chickens. I didn't know that. I mean, I'd read that they stay on the nests and didn't leave them, but I suppose I didn't think about their bodily functions while that happened."
"Most don't," Charlie nodded, "But you don't want to give them too many treats while they nest, otherwise you've got to go in there and clean up the mess they make. Nesters are usually the easiest to keep in the sanctum because they make their nest, they sit and they don't need much. But they're hard because they need to be checked on often to make sure all of the eggs are getting enough sit-time and that the mothers don't get stroppy and start stomping the eggs. We had that happen last year when one of the males broke out of his enclosure and busted in here wanting to breed. They'll smash a female's eggs if they can because it will bring her back into heat and mean their offspring are hatched instead."
Hermione nodded, her mind racing with the knowledge. It occurred to her as she stood there that if a female was to be removed from her eggs and exposed to a powerful male, she would breed again and lay more eggs. She would need to look into the theory but it had the potential to be used as a means to increase the dragon populations.
"How many eggs are there in a nest, usually?" Hermione asked, watching Charlie consult a chart that listed when the females had last been given treats. There were only two that were currently nesting but that wasn't unusual as it was out of season for them to be breeding just yet.
"It varies based on species," Charlie told her, "But most average about fifteen or twenty eggs a nest. Not all of them hatch. Some get squashed, or some don't gestate properly and go rotten."
"What would be the amount a dragon could effectively sit on and still have most of them hatch?" Hermione asked.
"I've seen some female hatch upwards of forty eggs. It depends on the breed. Welsh Greens, for example, can hatch up to fifty or so eggs in one nest because they're a large dragon, but the eggs are small. Ironbelly's have the biggest eggs, on par with their larger size at maturity, but they only hatch about twenty a nest."
"They could hatch more, though, couldn't they? If they laid more, they have the body space to hatch more, don't they?" Hermione asked.
"Yes and no," Charlie mused, clearly deciding that the nesters weren't due for any treats, "If they laid thirty or forty eggs, they'd most likely be able to sit on them all, but it's be a struggle. If they were to move around too much a few eggs might be dislodged from the next and accidentally trodden on. That can sometimes happen anyway, but more eggs in the nest would increase the likelihood."
Hermione nodded slowly, thinking carefully about the entire thing. She didn't share her theory yet. She would need to study the nesting females up close and find out if it could be done.
"Now, when you've fed them, you need to mark the chart," Charlie told her, scribbling his signature to sign that he had fed the dragons in the sanctum for the morning, "Otherwise someone else will come along, think they've not been fed and feed them again. We don't want to over-feed or it messes with their medication and makes them really lazy."
Hermione chuckled at the idea.
"And now that they've been fed, we need to look at the cleaning schedule," Charlie went on, "You want to wait long enough that they eat their breakfast and settle down for a mid-morning nap. They tend to get sleepy after they eat. That's the best time to clean the enclosures because they're unlikely to worry too much about your being there."
He led her back to the room with the wheelbarrows and Hermione picked up the handles on hers, following after him as he wheeled his off down the corridor.
"Develop a system. You want to start with the dragons that burn through the food the fastest or they'll wake up on you before you're done cleaning," Charlie went on, "Opaleye's, Vipertooth's and Fireball's have the quickest metabolisms, so always start with them. Ironbellies, Horntails, and Ridgebacks tend to digest the slowest, which gives you longer to get to their cages."
"Right," Hermione nodded, wishing she'd brought a pen and paper with her but figuring she would just have to commit it all to memory. Most of what he was telling her, Hermione already knew. But it didn't hurt to be reminded when those facts related to her ability to do her jobs here.
"Now, comes one of the least fun parts of the day, Hermione," Charlie told her, stopping her outside a solid steel door and tugging on a lock of her hair that had come free of her messy bun.
"The shit-shoveling part?" Hermione guessed, smirking at him.
"Yep," he nodded, "It's pretty messy work. We could just Vanish it, of course, the way we do with the mess the cattle make in the feed-lot. But it's worth too much to Herbologists."
"I know," Hermione smiled at him, "Besides, the way I figure it, as un-fun as shoveling might be, it's an opportunity to observe the dragon, check for injuries or illness; it's also a chance to be this close to a dragon."
She held her hands a foot apart, unable to contain her excitement.
"And it's an opportunity to interact with vendors, thus expanding my social network of people living in Dragonsmeade. It's also a chance to collect samples for testing to find out if something in the dragon diet or digestive system is contributing any problems with the breeding issue or indicating any other health problems each individual might be suffering."
"Did I just hear a newbie enthusiastically listing pros for shit-shoveling?" Jason appeared down the end of the corridor, calling out to them both obnoxiously.
Hermione noticed that though Jason had interrupted, Charlie was giving her one of those looks again. The intense, wild-eyed look like he wanted to devour her. The one that made her heart skip a beat
"Wait until you actually smell it when it's fresh," Jason continued, laughing, "You're going to hurl Granger. Ten sickles."
"I've got a pretty strong stomach," Hermione disagreed, "I'll take that bet."
Jason shook her head, laughing.
"She been in with one of the dragons yet?" he asked of Charlie.
"Not yet. Just fed 'em."
"And you're starting her right out the gate with Esmerelda? That's cold, mate," Jason said, his eyes widening, "You need me to spot you two? You know that shrew feigns sleep sometimes to catch you off guard."
"Spot if you want to," Charlie shrugged, "What are you doing here?"
"We've got a problem with the ordering," Jason admitted, "I don't know what Henry's been doing, but we're going to need to more than triple the order on everything we'll need for the breeding season. The Ministry's going to have a fit."
"How bad?" Charlie sighed, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"We don't have even half of what we need in the lead-up to the breeding season. We don't even have what we'd need to treat the Ridgeback's alone once their fighting for mating rites is done with and they all need to be patched up," Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Fuck!" Charlie snarled, his fists clenching, "Just… Order everything we need. The ministry can fucking deal with it. This is most likely why we ran out of shit last year too."
"I think he's getting some heat from above about how much it costs to run this place. He's been trying to cut corners and save wherever we can."
"Explaining why we charge more for the barrels of dung we sell the vendors even though it's of lesser quality recently because everything they've been eating is lower quality. The grain we feed the cattle is poor, the cattle are cheap and stringy, usually old and close to death anyway. This place is going to the fucking dogs with the Ministry tightening the noose every chance they get."
Hermione listened to the discussion carefully.
"They'll have a fit when they see how much stuff we'll be ordering if I put through for everything we need, Charlie," Jason said, lowering his voice a little, "You'll wear most of the heat for it too because you'll have to sign off on it."
"I'll handle it. Just get us what we need," Charlie waved his concerns away.
Hermione watched him closely, noting the way his shoulder tensed a bit as though he were already frustrated and feeling the added pressure of being in charge of the sanctuary while Marla was out injured.
"Alright Hermione, come here," Charlie told her, fixing his attention back on her, "You always want to check the vent and make sure the dragon is asleep before you go in for cleaning."
Hermione watched the way he pushed a small lever on the wall and the steel she'd believed to be part of the enclosure raised in a small section to reveal fire-proof glass beyond it in a small viewing station. Charlie beckoned her forward to look into the cage and Hermione held her breath as she peered through the glass at the dragon inside the enclosure beyond. It wasn't a very big enclosure, all things considered. About one hundred meters long and the same wide, it had a domed roof that allowed in the morning sunshine whilst keeping the dragon contained and protected with the containment enchantments.
And curled up inside the cage on a raised platform was a Peruvian Vipertooth the size of a bus. Her scales were copper and gold and they glittered in the sunshine. Her eyes were closed and she was sleeping, curls of smoke rising from her nostrils.
"She's foxing," Jason warned them.
"How can you tell?" Hermione asked him, watching the dragon carefully and trying to figure out what they saw that she didn't. Charlie was nodding in agreement with Jason's assessment.
"She knows she's one of the first cages cleaned every day, she tries to hold out and keep from sleeping until she can get a good bite in. She's kept in confinement like this year-round because if she's allowed out she endangers the other dragons in her sanctuary, tries to eat her handlers, and escapes the enclosure. She was captured in Peru four year ago after she ate almost an entire village worth of people," Jason told her when Charlie didn't speak, "She's Harvey's girl, our Esmerelda, but she'd trouble. You can tell she's foxing because of that there. Did you see it?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes on the dragon, noticing the creature had twitched her tailed the minute Charlie had reached for the door handle to her enclosure and given it a little jiggle.
"We'll give her another few minutes to get bored and she'll fall asleep for real," Charlie decided, "Come on, let's pay Rhydian a visit. He'll be conked out by now."
Hermione watched him turn and cross the corridor over to an enclosure on the other side of the walkway. He repeated the process to open the vent and check on the dragon before even considering entering the paddock. She scanned her eyes over the enormous Welsh Green that slept within, noting the rather undignified way the huge beast was sprawled on his side with on back leg cocked in the air and ticking occasionally as though he were dreaming. When she chuckled at the sight, Charlie slanted her a grin.
"Rhydian's in for scale-rot," he told her, "So he's pretty tired most of the time and he gets pretty stroppy because he's too big for most of the cages. You laugh now, but the stench of scale-rot will make you gag."
Hermione nodded her head, "Do we treat him for that while he's in here and asleep, or just clean his enclosure first?"
"Always clean first," Charlie told her, "You need to haul this inside each cage and fill it."
He kicked an empty barrel sitting outside the entrance to the enclosure, "They're all labeled with the breed of dragon that's in each enclosure, but always double-check that the barrel matches the dragon in the cage or you'll end up putting Fireball dung in an Ironbelly barrel and burn right through it."
"Right," Hermione nodded, watching the way Charlie showed her the name on the side of the barrel, stamped with the logo of the company that collected the dung and the words WELSH GREEN in big letters.
"Now you want to fill the barrel first and then levitate it or roll it back over to the door to where it is now, alright?" Charlie explained, "The Dung Beetle Group - the company these belong to - will send someone by later to collect the full ones and replace them with an empty one for tomorrow morning."
He pulled out his wand to levitate the barrel into the enclosure, wheeling his barrow inside and beckoning her to follow him.
"You're about to owe me ten sickles, Granger," Jason told her.
"Jace, clear off and get the ordering done so you can get to your dragons, yeah?" Charlie told the other Tamer.
"Don't be such a grouch, Weasley," Jason retorted. "I pity you working with him all day while he's hungover and cranky, Granger. I'm out of here before he loses that fiery Weasley temper at me."
The man saluted her before strolling away. Hermione heard Charlie muttering about his colleague being a bloody git.
"Weasley temper indeed," she scoffed. "As though I've never been on the receiving end of that before?"
"Come on," Charlie said after slanting an unfathomable gaze at her. "Let's get this over with. We've got a lot of cages to clean."
Hermione nodded her head in agreement, wheeling her wheelbarrow into the enclosure behind Charlie and feeling a flush of excitement run through her at the idea of being so close to a dragon. A wide grin began to threaten at the corners of her mouth as she approached the dragon, both she and Charlie heading for the large pile of dun in one corner of the enclosure. They had to pass Rhydian the Welsh Green to reach it and Hermione couldn't resist stopping for a moment to take in how large the enormous dragon actually was.
"How old is Rhydian?" Hermione asked Charlie, discarding her wheelbarrow for a moment to approach the slumbering dragon.
"Almost a hundred years old," Charlie told her. "He was hatched in the sanctuary and has been living here all his life."
"Is that why he's so big?" Hermione asked. "Usually Greens don't get this big, do they?"
"Usually no," Charlie agreed, and though her attention was fixed on the dragon rather than the man she'd been lusting after for many years, Hermione could hear the faint hint of amusement in his voice as she approached the dragon.
"Will he wake up if I touch him?" Hermione asked of the red-haired wizard seriously, lifting her hands and feeling them tingle with the need to touch the shiny scales of the dragon.
"No," Charlie admitted. "Rhydian never wakes at being touched once he's down for a nap. Not until we're halfway through scrubbing his scales to remove the rot. Then he gets stroppy."
"I'd get stroppy being woken from my nap if someone took to me with a metal brush too," Hermione told him, grinning a little.
She stepped closer and closer to the huge reptile as he slept and when she could reach, Hermione smoothed her hands over the scales of his exposed belly. Her hands tingled and she could literally feel the magic running through the enormous beast. A shiver ran down her spine, the hair on her arms and legs prickling at the raw feel of dragon scale under her hands.
"Oh, Charlie," Hermione sighed quietly, letting her eyes drop closed as she touched the creature. "They don't feel like this in gloves or boots or other products made from dragonhide."
She wasn't even aware of the way she moaned Charlie's name as she slid her hands over the belly scales of the Welsh Green, her whole body trembling finely as she leaned in closer until she could press her cheek to his stomach as well. The dragon slept on, heedless of the little witch leaning against his belly. The sound of the dragon's heartbeat hammering away steadily filled her head, overwhelming her senses and Hermione squeaked softly when her hands encountered the rough calloused flesh of her favorite Dragon Tamer.
Blinking her eyes open slowly, her body still pressing against the length of the dragon, rising and falling with each snoring breath he drew in and exhaled once more, Hermione met the wild-eyed gaze of the wizard she wanted to do unmentionable things to. He was giving her one of those looks that made her whole body ache and set her knickers on fire. There was something about his expression that was so far beyond words that she couldn't have described it if she tried. He looked so intrigued and so hungry and so pleased all at once that she trembled a second time, smoothing her palm over the back of his hand.
She could swear as she touched her skin to his that the same powerful feeling of magic and fire that she could feel inside of the dragon also ran through Charlie Weasley. As though he were a dragon himself, wild and unpredictable and dangerous and far more powerful than he let on.
"I'm never going to be able to leave," Hermione whispered to him, holding his gaze. "Not when staying means I can do this every day."
Charlie's lips twitched at that and though Hermione didn't think it was possible, his gaze grew even hotter as he stared at her.
"You like him?" Charlie asked, nodding towards the slumbering dragon.
Hermione nodded her head slowly, smiling widely as she leaned upon the ferocious beast.
"The one we rode out of Gringotts didn't feel like this when we touched him," Hermione admitted softly.
"He'd been kept chained too long," Charlie nodded in agreement. "Chained and half-starved and living in that dank place so far from the skies, that old Ironbelly was almost dead before you lot liberated him. Rhydian is still strong and healthy, though currently suffering scale-rot. You should feel the magic inside them when they're completely healthy."
"I'd like that," Hermione told him, smiling widely at Charlie and giggling just a bit when Rhydian snorted in his sleep and shifted slightly, his back leg kicking as he dreamed.
Charlie took her hand, tugging her away from the dragon before the great beast rolled completely, almost crushing them both in the process.
"He's restless today," Charlie commented without releasing her hand as they both backpedaled out of the dragon's space.
"You said breeding season began last night," Hermione pointed out. "Maybe he's feeling the stirrings?"
Charlie tore his eyes from the dragon to look down at her for a moment, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.
"Probably," he murmured, "And that means they'll all be restless and stroppy today. We need to get a move on."
Hermione nodded her head, following Charlie once more as he released her to begin wheeling their barrows towards the dung pile once more.
"Gloves on and grab your shovel, Hermione," Charlie told her when they were close enough to the pile.
Hermione looked on, her whole body throbbing once more as she watched the muscles in his bare arms work when he swung the barrel to the ground. Merlin, Hermione wanted to feel those arms flexing around her. She wanted to press herself against the length of his body as she'd done last night whilst drunk and she wanted to find out just how much fire Charlie Weasley had inside of him.
"Is this the part where I'm expected to vomit?" Hermione asked, scolding herself silently for her lustful thoughts. She just had to squash those feelings back down until Charlie was no longer her boss.
"Get closer and take a big whiff," Charlie replied, grinning at her wickedly and nodding her towards the dung heap.
Hermione took a deep breath as she donned her gloves, sternly lecturing herself inside her mind on how she would not be beaten by the likes of a pile of dung and how she was made of stronger stuff than any other girl that she knew, except perhaps Ginny. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione took up her shovel and stomped closer to the pile of dung.
And sweet Merlin, they'd been right. The stench was foul. She could practically feel the heat coming off the pile and the scent was thick and wretched, but Hermione refused to let it beat her. She recoiled only slightly at the smell before clamping down on her muscles and refusing to let herself back away. Twisting her shovel in her hands, Hermione walked all the way up to the pile and speared the shovel into the pile, scooping up a big, heaping load of it before turning right back around and carrying it to the barrel, where she dumped it inside.
Charlie was watching her with amusement glittering in his eyes and Hermione raised one eyebrow at him.
"They thought this would scare me away?" Hermione asked seriously. "Clearly they've never smelled Harry Potter's socks after living for months on end in a tent with the sod."
Charlie's expression turned to shock for just a moment, before he began to laugh, the sound bubbling up inside his chest and spilling free. Hermione found herself grinning as she listened to him chuckling at her words. Turning back to the pile once more, Hermione let her roiling stomach remain clamped and tense to keep from vomiting until she adjusted to the smell as she got to work. Kicking her shovel into the dung heap once more, Hermione scooped and dumped the foul stuff into its barrel until Charlie joined her, similarly scooping without complaint.
He was silent as he worked but for the occasional chuckle when a particularly nasty discovery in the middle of the heap made Hermione clamp her hand over her mouth and couch repeatedly as she fought the urge to vomit several long minutes later. Hermione found she rather enjoyed working with him, even if she was just shoveling. She liked watching the way he moved, and it intrigued her when he would pause mid-shovel to examine anything he thought might be out of the ordinary in the dragon's dung.
"Do me a favor, yeah?" Charlie asked when they'd finally shoveled the entire dung heap into the barrel. "Levitate this over and sit it outside the enclosure while I give Rhydian a once over before we look at his scales and do his medicines?"
Hermione nodded, accepting her orders readily as she laid down her shovel and did as she was told. When she was finished, she walked slowly towards where Charlie had begun climbing on the slumbering beast. Literally. He'd climbed up one of Rhydian's legs and was walking along the dragon's back, examining his scales.
"Do I get to do that too?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide as she watched him.
Charlie glanced down at her for a moment.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Come on up here, I want to show you what to be on the lookout for. Bring up the bucket with the metal brushes and the scale-wash in it, could you?"
Hermione did as she was told, grabbing the bucket and beginning to climb up Rhydian's back leg. She squealed when the dragon suddenly began kicking it while she was climbing and Charlie began to laugh at her. Hermione clung to Rhydian's foot for dear life until the kicking stopped.
"You're supposed to climb from the front legs," Charlie told her. "They kick the back ones, and never try to climb from the tail. You'll end up eating shit and falling on your face in the dirt, every time. If you do it to a Horntail, they'll spike you too."
"Right," Hermione commented, storing the information away.
"You alright?" Charlie asked, watching her as she walked unsteadily up Rhydian's back, a bit shaken.
"It's a bit higher than I thought it would be," Hermione admitted.
"You're afraid of heights, aren't you?" he confirmed.
Hermione nodded. "I am, but I'll be fine. I can do this."
He watched her for a moment as she came towards him,
"What?" she asked when he kept staring at her. "I can do it."
Charlie's lips twitched. "I have no doubt, Hermione."
Hermione felt a pleasant warmth simmering in her blood at his words. She beamed at him for a moment before offering him the bucket, recalling that she was meant to be learning how to be a Dragon Tamer, not daydreaming about leaning over and kissing that crooked little grin from his lips.
"Alright, show me the scale rot and how to treat it," she smiled at the wizard and he smiled back at her. "We've got, like, fifty more dragons to handle today."
Charlie nodded his head in agreement, continuing to watch her for a moment longer even as he took the bucket from her hand.
"This part will likely make you vomit, Hermione," he warned her quietly. "Fair warning."
"I'll be fine," Hermione assured him.
She wasn't fine. When Charlie led her a little further up Rhydian's back to his right shoulder and the back of the reptile's neck, Hermione laid eyes on the extent of the scale-rot he was suffering.
The stench of rotting flesh was putrid and Hermione's stomach heaved violently. Clamping a hand over her mouth, Hermione refused to look away. Pus oozed from under many of the scales, some of them bloodied, others squishy like jelly and souring to a wretched shade of yellow instead of the bright, emerald green they were supposed to be.
"You alright?" Charlie asked, not even trying to hide his grin when Hermione gagged.
Hermione nodded stubbornly, refusing to let this get the better of her.
"I…" Hermione took her hand from her mouth before clapping her hand over it once more and trying to hold back the vomit, her eyes closing for a minute.
"Give it a minute. It gets easier," Charlie offered kindly, tucking one of her curls behind her ear that had fallen free of her hair elastic during the shoveling. "I need you to pull it together. Vomit if you have to, but I've got to show you how to treat it, so I need you paying attention, Hermione."
Hermione nodded her head, her eyes still closed for a moment before she reached for the steely resolve that had gotten her through being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange and had seen her survive Antonin Dolohov's curse. She could do this. A little rotting flesh was nothing compared to some of the more disgusting things in life.
"Alright," Hermione said, blinking her eyes open and pulling her hand from her mouth, snagging hold of her resolve firmly and meeting Charlie's gaze unflinchingly. "Show me what to do."
She thought her knickers might go up in flames when Charlie held her gaze for a long moment before he whispered, "There's my girl."