School: Hogwarts
Year: 1
Theme: Creature Injuries
Prompts: It's not whether you get knocked down, it's whether you get up [Quote] (Main)/Charlie Weasley/This was not a good idea. In fact, it was possibly his worst idea yet (First line)
Story Title: So you want to be a Dragon Keeper?
Word Count: 2,026 words
So you want to be a Dragon Keeper?
This was not a good idea. In fact, it was possibly his worst idea yet. That's saying a lot for someone whose last name is Weasley. Why would he do that? Oh, right. Yes. It was 28 degrees outside, and he would have boiled if he hadn't succumbed to the short sleeves. Now he was thirty-whatever years old and being lectured by his mother over a scar that was inevitable considering the career he was in. Charlie shuddered to think about how she would react to find out about the one on his back.
"Charlie! Are you listening to me?" Molly screeched. "You should be taking care of yourself. Are you even considering your poor mother when you get yourself into these situations? I mean… you just… wretched boy." She huffed as she turned to finish preparing dinner. Charlie smiled affectionately at his mother before pressing a small kiss to her cheek. She scowled and hit him with the tea towel in her hand. He let out a small chuckle.
"Uncle Charlie," a small voice spoke up, "how did you get the big scar on your arm?" Charlie turned to face Teddy's big round eyes. Harry rolled his eyes beside him. Charlie smirked at his brother-in-law, the former idol of Teddy's life.
"Well, that is a story from a long time ago, young Teddy," Charlie started. He plopped himself down in a chair, having picked up Victoire on his way past and settling her on his knee. Teddy scrambled to sit beside his adventurous uncle with rapturous attention. "It began like this…"
Seventeen Years Previously:
It was the beginning of Charlie's adventures at the dragon reserve in Romania. On arrival, he'd had a quick chat with the senior keeper who told him that they wouldn't be taking it easy on him. He was handed a small pot of special reserve burn salve and a bottle of Skele-gro before being sent on his way to an enclosure to move a Chinese Fireball into a different section. Actually, handed is a bit of a strong word. They were thrown at him accompanied by "Hvis du er dum nok til at komme i ildens vej, så brug dette" which roughly translates to "if you're stupid enough to get in the way of fire, use this."
Charlie stood bewildered in front of the Chinese Fireball. He hadn't moved from this position in about an hour. This is not what he expected he'd be doing on his first day. It's his first day. He expected to be shown round the reserve, not sent to be killed by a very visibly pregnant dragon while the lead reserve keeper spectated.
Okay, so that may be a bit of an exaggeration but it's not that far from the truth. He may not be getting killed but injuries were definitely a given. In all honesty, it wasn't the most difficult job but the hormones raging through the beast were against him. She was going to try and protect the precious cargo she was carrying.
The reserve keeper, Alexandru Bogdan, was a giant of a man, both literally and figuratively. He was someone who commanded attention and Charlie was desperate to impress him. If he did, he'd be kept on but if he failed, he'd be sent home, away from his dream, likely to never return.
He took a deep breath and dropped his bag beside the edge of the fence that surrounded the area. Breathing deeply but calmly, he edged closer to the bulging dragon. He gripped the rope tighter, anticipating the challenge ahead.
The dragon spotted Charlie before he could get too close and spewed a warning in his direction. The heat hit Charlie's side, warming up his insides. He yelped and jumped out of the way. Scowling slightly, he tried again. Getting closer this time, he checked the rope but didn't notice the dragon aiming again. He looked up just in time to dodge being burnt to a crisp. Charlie could feel the effects of burning along the edge of his arm. He looked down at the melting flesh, the pain registering as cold heat. The angry, red skin glared out at him. He winced as he prodded it gently and gasped at the sudden, sharp pain. He examined the bubbling blisters that erupted on his once clear skin. The wobbling tops seemed to beckon him to feel them. So focused on his burn, he missed the dragon turning near him.
She readied herself for attack. Her long tail covered with spikes whipped towards him. It connected with his abdomen, sending him flying like a Bludger. Despite the lead reserve keeper refusing to intersect, he had the foresight to send a Cushioning Charm to the tree. Charlie landed against a large tree, his ankle colliding with the ground at an awkward angle, and he heard a sickening snap.
Despite Bogdan's handy charm work, Charlie was still a little dazed. His vision blurred as pain took over his entire body. This did seem to be a good thing. With so much pain in so many different parts of his body, he seemed unable to focus completely on any single section. After regaining his sight, he spied his bag in the grass where he'd abandoned it. Using a simple summoning spell, he retrieved the brown, leather bag. It showed signs of wear but that was only natural after all the time the bag had been lugged around when he was a teenager.
Deciding the first thing to do was to deal with the breakages, he dug around for the small bottle of Skele-gro and set it on a mossy rock beside him. Charlie forcefully straightened his leg, wincing in pain. The daggers edging up and down indicated the severity. Definitely broken. He leaned his head back on the bark of the tree behind him. Taking a deep breath, he popped the lid from the vial and plugged his nose before downing the potion. He hesitated before feeling the familiar crawling pain emanating from his ankle.
He dug around in his bag again and extracted the reserve's burn salve that was buried in the bottom of his bag. Opening the container, the yellow-coloured cream shone out at him before attacking him with a horrific smell. Charlie wrinkled his nose up and dug out a generous portion. Disregarding the almost instantaneous tingling on his fingers, he rubbed the mixture into his arm wound. It didn't seem to be doing anything until it suddenly began to burn hotter than before. Letting out a whimper, Charlie stopped rubbing the cream just in time to see the remaining skin around the wound begin to smoke. He watched as small lumps began to appear on the wound as an almighty needle drove itself harder and harder repeatedly into his wound. He cried out in pain, tears coming to his eyes.
He yanked his leather bag out from under his ankle, not noticing the dart of pain he got from the abrupt movement. He rummaged through it trying to find a bottle of water or something to cool and stop the ever-increasing smoking billows. In his panic, he had forgotten he was a wizard and was capable of creating water with his wand. Tossing a few things out of his bag, he landed on a small metal container. A label covered the top that read "I still don't approve but just in case you need it."
He uncovered the container and found his mother had sent her own homemade burn cream with him. An interesting concoction of dittany, aloe vera and lavender were the basis for it and as most mothers with multiple children, she had perfected her recipe. Although it was often irritating to have her mollycoddling, sometimes it was a good job she did. Even though it wasn't the most attractive balm ever, Charlie knew it would work. It was thick and green; it looked remarkably like flobberworm mucus. He lobbed a large amount of it on his arm and gently massaged it on the gaping wound. Instantly the cooling agent of aloe vera began to work and calmed the angry skin. Charlie watched the dittany start to close up the wound while the floral scent of lavender filled his nostrils.
As the burning softened, Charlie picked up the reserve's container and turned it over to read the ingredients on the bottom. Dittany… Aloe Vera… It all seemed the same as his mother's until he finally reached the ingredient that caused the problem. Turmeric. His mind flashed back to a potions class where they had been using turmeric for their potion.
Although Charlie hadn't noticed at the time, his hand had begun to tingle as he was handling the turmeric. When it had come to trying the substance to make sure it worked, he and his partner were handed vials. His partner hadn't had any problems, but Charlie's throat had begun to close up and his tongue had swollen. He had been rushed to Madam Pomfrey and she administered a needle into his thigh. When Snape was listing the components of the potion, the only new one that popped up was turmeric. Pomfrey had informed him that he had an allergy and was advised to avoid it at all costs. She had shown him a spell that would indicate if it was in his food before sending him on his way.
To this day, he had avoided turmeric and it was only this disaster of a situation that had made realise just how bad his condition was. It also made him very thankful for his mother, as mad as she may be.
While pain still ebbed around his body, Charlie sat back against the trunk of the large oak tree behind him. He watched the graceful body of the Chinese Fireball stomp around the field. He contemplated his choices. He could give up, admit that he wasn't able to do it and return home. His mother would be happy to see him. He'd be able to… get a ministry job?
Charlie sighed heavily. That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be part of this. He wanted to help these animals; coax them to new pastures and suffer injuries. He watched the large red beast as she moved her head with the wind, her belly trailing along the ground. Charlie began to imagine the little babies that were going to be around in the next few months. New life was being formulated. He grinned at the prospect.
Feeling the pain begin to fade, the red head shuffled around and awkwardly managed to get to his feet. He placed pressure on his injured leg and was pleased to find it didn't buckle immediately. Glancing down at his mauled arm, Charlie noticed that the wound had closed but there was still a horrible looking mark trailing its way down. He frowned as he had hoped that the second salve would have healed the whole lot. Looking up at the dragon again, he rubbed absentmindedly on the mark. Maybe this was a sign. If he couldn't survive getting a scar from a dragon on his first day, he wasn't capable for this job. Making a quick decision, he decided to wear his scar proudly. Gathering his remaining courage and confidence, he began to walk back towards the reptile, the rope gripped firmly in his hand. He had a job that needed to be done.
Present Day:
"...and that is why if you really care about something, you never give up," Charlie concluded his story to the wide-eyed children. "If I had, we wouldn't have had four baby dragons hatched three months later. That big dragon was the one that protected the eggs in the Triwizard tournament when Cedric went for them. She was on her second batch of hatchlings."
"Wow, Uncle Charlie," Teddy breathed, "your job is the coolest. I want to be like you when I grow up."
"Why? It's only dragons. I defeated Voldemort," Harry grumbled from his corner, much to the amusement of his in-laws.
"Well, you could have used my burn salve as well, but you refused," Molly scolded.