A/N: Yes, I'm back again, and this has been fun writing! I mean, no one really knows the truth about Charlie and his gang, so anything goes! My friend said that

he's impressed that I have the patience to write, and I thank you! Haha, in that case, this chapter is dedicated to you and another friend, you'll know who you are,

Kari, Coraine's best ever friend! Please please try to review everyone else…thanks. Alright, this will be in Charlie's perspective, and yeah. Like normal, I don't

have that much to say, only that you enjoy the story!

Thanks again to Do you know Emily Davison, you've been a great help!

Chapter 3: Problematical Import

Charlie Weasley

"Urgh, what's taking the import so long? Maybe she had to travel through the toilet pipes to get here…" my work partner, Jodie, groaned in frustration. I snorted in amusement;

sometimes she had such a wild imagination. I didn't need ridiculous notions filling my brain; I was quite content with the large chocolate chip cookie heavenly floating down in front

of me in my mind…

"Did you just go to the…what's that? Oh yeah, the dentist? Because I swear, I never noticed you dripping saliva before." Jodie quirked an eyebrow, nodding towards the thin,

silver trail of secretion dribbling down the left side of my mouth. I hurriedly produced a silver handkerchief from my jeans pocket, and immediately rectified the problem. I would

have to keep my inner fantasies to myself more. The minute people knew I stored chocolate chip cookies under my bed, I was in big, big trouble, those people were like tigers, and

they would pounce on my cookies like beasts on a rampage. Jodie was still staring at me queerly, and I knew that she could fabricate a story out of thin air. (Like the time she

threatened to tell the other workers I enjoyed acting like a woman when she found a low-cut dress on my side of the room, since the two of us shared rooms. And the worst bit

was, the dress was hers, and she swore that she'd tell the world that I stole it if I didn't ask Fred and George to get her a can of the 'canary-thingys' the next time I owled them.)

So I gave her a sheepish grin and said that my razor had accidentally cut a little too deep and it only didn't hurt if I arranged my face that way. (I know, I shock myself with my

brilliance too.) She gazed at me suspiciously for a moment, but shrugged quizzically and turned away after a moment or two. I mentally deflated with relief.

BANG! The two of us were startled by a loud sound, and we stumbled back a bit, looking around us. When flying pieces of grass and dirt had stopped assaulting our faces, we

saw that there was a terribly dirty girl kneeling in the middle of the mess. Her head was bowed, and her tangled hair covered her face like an ebony curtain. Oh no, I thought

subconsciously, this one's a weeper. Then, feeling slightly guilty for sizing a person up so quickly, I mentally reprimanded myself. I was about to approach the girl, to help her up,

but she suddenly swung her head around, and we could see she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Urm, are we actually allowed to use magic in this part? Because I'm not sure. I think I need to tidy up a little. Don't you think so?" She had a surprisingly low voice for someone

with such a good face. And obviously, she was a little…slow in the head as well. Jodie and I exchanged skeptical glances; how would she survive in a dog-eat-dog world like the

one we lived in? Only the strongest survived, and the impeded ones got…ahem…left behind. Jodie nodded slowly, as if talking to someone on the edge of a mental breakdown.

The girl beamed at us, hopped to her feet, and with a flick of her wrist, all the grime vanished. I was caught by surprise, actually. Her hair was not black, rather bistre, a dark shade

of brown, which shone gold in the sunlight. She didn't have the typical 'almond shaped eyes', but two arcs carved deep into her flesh, one concave, another convex, both dipping

down to meet just an inch above the bridge of her nose. When I took a closer look, I realized that her pupil was not the standard brown or black combination; instead it was a

green metallic color with specks of gold and rainbow, ringed by a thick layer of black. Her eyebrows were a perplexing brownish-gold color, never seen before. Like a well-baked

cookie…I thought dreamily. Her skin was fair, looked nearly translucent, but then I was never a good one for seeing colors.

A snap of fingers and a very annoyed female voice brought me out of my daze. I shook my head a little to clear the fog, and saw one irritated Jodie crossing her arms and tapping

her feet, and a curious stranger tilting her head while looking at me inquisitively. I gave them both a hangdog, guilty look and grinned. I didn't want to upset two highly

temperamental females.

"Hey, my name is Laurie, I just came from Greece, so help me out here, right?" Laurie stuck out her hand, swept a strand of hair away from her face and smiled. I gave her my

huckster smile, and took her hand. For a petite girl like her, her hold was really, quite firm. I released her, and bent down to pick up her suitcases.

"Oh no no no, I can do that myself, no worries!" She had a peculiar accent, like one muddled up, of different origins. She jumped over a puddle, or at least attempted to. Within a

second, she tripped over a twig and she landed facedown in the muddy water. I could hear a nasal groan, but I was not sure from which female, until I saw a string of bubbles from

the water. I heard Jodie mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'nutcase', and I stifled a laugh. This girl was one big klutz.

She bounded up again, using a drying charm to help herself, and struggled to get to my side to take her luggage. I managed to dissuade her from carrying it herself; for fear that she

fell again, this time taking cases with her. Finally we started off, with Jodie muttering inaudible snide comments. I attempted to make small talk, as we trudged towards the

compound.

"Well, Laurie, is that right? Where are you from? You don't seem much like a Greek to me." I asked, interested. Beside me, Jodie mumbled something like, 'that's because

lunatics don't usually sound like anything.' I suppressed my mirth again, intentionally stepping on Jodie's foot to shut her up. I was sure that Laurie didn't hear her, because she

started to answer.

"That's because I'm not from Greece, I mean, I'm from America, but I went England, France, Spain, China, Canada and Russia, so I guess my accent is slightly funny. And the girl

next to the boy, I heard that and technically, lunatics do sound like something because they actually talk, and clearly at that, not rambling under their breath like they're about to

drop dead if someone hears them." Laurie replied placidly, blinking at Jodie. This time, I couldn't help but snigger; these two would be fast friends if they didn't hate each other

already. Surprisingly, Jodie laughed as well, and it didn't seem forced at all. I guessed that Jodie liked someone who stood up to her.

"Good one, Laurie, and my name is Jodie, the boy next to me is Charlie, and he's a bit of a tag-along if you don't mind." Jodie smiled genuinely and bent forward to look at Laurie.

I pretended to be mock-outraged, and stuck my nose in the air, to which Laurie retorted, "Are you sure you're not a girl, because only women stuck in male bodies would do that."

I smacked a hand to my head, and Jodie threw her head back and roared with laughter. Oh whoopee, two girls ganged up on me; that was what I just needed for 2 kilometres

back to the compound. Someone shoot me.

Unfortunately, I spoke that out loud, and the two girls complied by spurting water through their wands at my face. Trying to distract them, I asked Laurie.

"Laurie, that can't be your real name, can it? What's your real name? And why did you go to so many places? Do you like dragons? Have you even seen a dragon?" I shot off

questions, desperate that she would answer them. She gawked at me for a while, and answered hesitantly, like talking to a madman.

"What's this, the Spanish Inquisition? (This elicited a fresh round of giggles from Jodie.) Anyway, my real name is Laurelle Kaye, but you'd do better not to call me that because

girls have rather heavy mood swings, and I trust you don't want to be caught in one of them. That and I'm sure you don't want a bump on your head for the rest of-oh let's see-

your life? Yeah, and unless you count the little furry things my Mom gave me when was younger, I can safely say I've never seen, or met a dragon face to face. Does that answer

your questions or do you have more to slaughter me with?" She answered smartly.

I rolled my eyes; must be her time of the month; that explained her crabbiness. Either that or she was naturally made to be the goddess of crankiness for the rest of eternity. Jodie

didn't seem to think so. Suck-up.

Don't make me live with this, I beg you Merlin. I'd do anything to get away from these people, ANYTHING! Okay, other than really disgusting things, but I meant that figuratively,

so don't take up my offer.

We continued to plod through the thick vegetation, the two females joking (about me) and getting to know each other. Imagine this, guys, traipsing through trees which cling to your

clothes, and on top of that, have two nutcases beside you chattering a thousand miles per hour. Then you'll know what torture really is. Never mind, life has its ups and downs

sometimes! This is the pit bottom; you can't go any lower. I was just waiting for the building to come into sight, so that I could flee from the monsters beside me. We did not want to

Apparate there, because the sounds might disturb the dragons' sleep, whereas in the building it would be possible, since we soundproofed it.

Tramping for a little more distance and…yes! There it was! My heaven!

Thank Merlin.

Alright, I know that there's hardly any action yet, but I need to set up the well, setting before I start the real deal. This chapter kind of didn't really go anywhere,

but it introduced the characters, could you tell me if it's a little confusing or anything? Thanks, once again, review!

Signing off (and willing you to press the button),

persona-alacarte