A/N: Hope y'all like this fic. Special thanks to Ash-Castle for alpha reading this, and for making the aesthetic. Thank you to Disillusionist9 for cheerleading!

Come find me on Tumblr: Chiseplushie

+ For more, go read my fic Long Days (which takes place completely after this fic... but can be read as a stand alone piece.)


Stars and Bold Coffee (Charlie x Luna)

Chapter 02 - March (takes place the following year, or 3 months after Ch. 01)


Like all things on the dragon preserve, the stew was rustic and smoky in flavor. The rough hewn furniture inside the tent was dented and nicked from being knocked over one too many times in as many years, and everything was dusted a thin layer of dirt and soot. Four small beds, trunks, mismatched furniture, lopsided bookshelves, a wood stove and crates surrounded the dining table which sat in the middle of the tent.

Charlie leaned over his bowl, his chair creaked while he sopped up the leftover dregs of stew with pieces of bread made from dark grains.

The tent flap rustled and Lewis came stomping through tracking in bits of snow, a scowl aging his face ten years. His hair and beard had seen better days, grizzled and streaked with grey. The Head Keeper threw himself into a chair against the table, the force of his momentum pushing the table and knocking over the almost empty bowl and last bit of the redhead's supper.

"The fuck is the matter with you?" Charlie's curt words were softened by the mild tone of his voice.

In answer, Lewis picked apart a piece of parchment he had previously crumpled in irritation and flattened it on the table.

Charlie lifted one eyebrow in question as he picked up the slip.

Dearest Lewis,

I hope this message finds you well.

I am sorry to inform you that I will arrive a few days later than initially planned. I have been waylaid in the Alps, and had I known the water spirits were so sociable this time of the year, I would have planned my arrival at the preservation more appropriately.

I apologize for the lack of thought on my part. Will you please pass on my regards to Matilda as well? She lives in the village, and she mentioned to me that you are familiar with her.

Your friend,

Luna Lovegood

Naturalist

Independent Magizoologist

"She detoured in the Alps? It's colder there than a witch's tit, and it's almost Spring." Charlie smirked. " 'Dearest Lewis'? An old flame?"

The older man sputtered. "I've never met her. If anything, I thought you might be familiar with her family. "

Charlie scrubbed his neatly trimmed ginger beard and hummed as he looked over the letter again.

"She's from Britain?" At Lewis' nod, Charlie said, "You know I haven't spent as much time in Britain as I should. The name rings a bell, but other than that, I know fuck-all about Lovegood or her family. Wouldn't be able to tell you how she takes her coffee."

"Probably bleeds tea. If she doesn't turn up, I am going to send that bugger Scamander a Howler about this referral of his."

"Bes is an arsehole," Charlie laughed. "I don't blame the man for running away."

"He made it out here the once, and hasn't come back since. The bastard." He complained. "There aren't many willing Dragonologists around here, at least not ones willing to look at Bes. Unless you count the ones from Bulgaria. You know Bes hasn't been right since the pixie infestation." Lewis replied, pulling a face at the thought of bringing more foreigners onto the preservation. "So you have no idea what Matilda would want with her then?"

"I'd say you'd have to go ask the woman yourself, Lewis." At the expression on the other man's face, Charlie said, "Scared, Lewis?"

"Of Matilda? Never." He scoffed.

"Last time, you came back singed and looked like you fought with Cee Cee and lost."

Cecelia was the most subdued Welsh Green on the preserve. She was a gentle giant.

At Lewis' scowl, Charlie murmured, "Don't worry. She'll show up. Why don't you see what you can wrangle from Matilda since you're so worried?"

~ o ~ o ~

Charlie wasn't sure what he expected when Luna Lovegood arrived.

The other Naturalists and Dragonologists that came to examine Bes ranged from scruffy day campers decked in their traveling gear to wizards and witches properly dressed in fitted robes. Others came outfitted in what could be loosely called dress robes underneath warm fleece-lined winter cloaks. He figured they weren't thinking about Romanian winter when they showed up wearing robes with delicately trimmed cuffs. At least now Spring was slowly making an appearance.

Some Naturalists sported a mixture between wizard and muggle clothing. Looking back, Charlie thought he had expected someone dressed properly, wearing trousers, hiking boots and a proper travelling cloak made for the vast amount of snowfall in the Alps. Possibly lots of wool. Lots and lots of wool.

Charlie was knee deep in dragon dung when he looked up and saw the mismatched pair hiking up the trail a few hundred yards out. He waded out of the dung to meet Lewis and Luna Lovegood.

She was dressed in an overly large knitted grey sweater that was more like a long fitted tunic, with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Layered on top was a cropped black vest, with small silver buttons that accentuated her figure. The witch's blonde hair was loose and tucked behind both ears. On her head flopped a dark grey knitted beanie, topped with a large fuzzy pom pom. Small beads were sewn into the stitches, winking in the sunlight.

As they drew nearer Charlie saw that she had on dark brown boots which were laced up to her knees, the grey over-the-knee cable knit socks pulled up as high as they would go. The boots were scuffed, the softened leather looked like it was being held together by one too many Reparos.

He wasn't sure which surprised him more about her pants - the tight way they clung to her, because how were her legs not fucking cold - or by the pattern, which featured shimmering galaxies and falling comets, complete with sparkling tails. Stars and comet tails that glittered.

Her wand was snug in a slim arm holster secured to her left forearm. A thick woolen jumper with large wooden toggles and traveling cloak were folded neatly over one arm. She gestured with her free hand while she talked, and as they got closer he saw her patched satchel slung across her chest.

There were multiple brightly colored carabiners hanging from the long strap of her bag, several types of rope and a petite handmade doll, were just a few of the items clipped around the fabric. The bag and its trinkets bounced lightly on her hip.

Looped around the other end of the strap and piled precariously on top of the bag was a small mountain of fabric that turned out to be a knitted scarf with thick white and blue stripes.

If he didn't recognize the witch by now, Charlie was pretty sure the radish earrings with bright red and yellow beads would have clued him in. He met her before.

He didn't remember much from that December morning, but Charlie knew how she took her coffee.

Her lips quirked upward in a knowing smile. "Hello there Charlie Weasley."