Dragons
A week before Halloween Argus Filch, the grumpy caretaker, stopped by Charity's office and dropped off a bucket and several cleaning supplies. He responded to her questioning look by saying with a mean smirk, "The headmaster will explain it all to you at the staff meeting tonight." Then he pointedly readjusted a can of rodent repellent in his pocket, and shot a menacing glance toward Bnickel while his malevolent cat, Mrs. Norris, wound hungrily around his leg.
"He's not a rodent," Charity said in defense of her pet.
"We'll see what the Headmaster has to say about that," Filch said with one last flash of his yellowed teeth. Just to be safe, Charity locked her bunny in her room before going to the staff lounge where Dumbledore announced that the delegations from the wizarding schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving in one week's time. Charity soon found out what that had to do with the cleaning supplies when he explained that as a junior professor, she would help Filch oversee a head-to-toe cleaning of the castle.
Any students unlucky enough to receive a detention during that week were sent to either Charity or Filch and made to scrub, dust, polish and scour anything that Filch deemed in need of scrubbing, dusting, polishing and scouring, which was pretty much everything. Word spread and the students were unusually well behaved that week, which meant Charity ended up doing much of the work herself. She didn't mind de-webbing chandeliers and ceiling corners; it was actually kind of fun pointing her wand and simply sucking them up. She couldn't understand why Filch insisted on climbing his ladder and struggling to reach the webs.
Charity's least favorite job was portrait cleaning. The charm to clean paintings was fairly complicated, and the first and only time she tried it she removed a horseman's long flowing hair and wasn't able to replace it with anything more than a very short, choppy buzz cut. The horseman was a bit of a dandy and apparently had taken great pride in his long locks. For the rest of Charity's tenure at Hogwarts that particular horseman's horse would be kicked in its hindquarters and told to "giddy up" any time she came near. Not willing to take any more chances, she stuck with the Muggle techniques that Filch was so fond of. She individually scrubbed each of the portraits with a soft cloth, although you'd have thought she was coming at them with sharp daggers the way they complained about it:
"Oh you, yes Lord Flannery told me all about you."
"You're going to scrub the paint right off, my dear."
"Ouch!"
A rotund woman in a pink satin dress insisted that she had "only been refurbished just last year. Honestly, you don't know who I am do you? I happen to be one of thee most important portraits in the building, if you know what I mean." Charity had no idea what she meant, but apologized and kept scrubbing. In truth, she much preferred these complaining stationary subjects to the ones that took off into other portraits before she could get them fully scrubbed. She spent many wasted hours just chasing them down. One Sir Cadogan, a fully suited knight, had given her a particularly hard time. He rode his fat pony from painting to painting, and insisted on defending the occupants against this "marauder most foul who seeks to torture and maim the innocent."
One long afternoon, Charity was just beginning on the second floor portraits when Cadogan showed up yet again, saying, "Abandon your vile weapon of destruction or face me, defender of…"
"Shove off Cadogan," said a young witch in one of the portraits as she stuck his pony with a fire poker. The horse reared and ran off, carrying Cadogan's declarations of chivalry into the distance.
"Thanks," said Charity as the portrait subject turned to face her. "I've been dueling with that one all day. So…um, looks like you're next," she said apologetically.
All together there were ten young ladies in the portrait. They appeared to be having some sort of a tea party, several of them were holding ornate china tea cups while others held small plates of the most delicious looking chocolate cake. The majority of the young women were sitting in chairs that had been assembled in a semi-circle, while a few others either served cake at an oak sideboard or stood looking out a narrow window. When Charity mentioned that they were next to be cleaned, the standing subjects scurried to their seats in some excitement. They kicked off their shoes and held out their hands to Charity.
One girl said, "It will be just like…what is it called?"
"A spa," said another girl while the others twittered.
"Yes, a spa. We've been looking forward to it."
"Well wonderful!" exclaimed Charity, grateful for some relief from all the bickering. The girls were dressed in long mantuas with cuffed sleeves at the elbows and elaborate petticoats. Their hair was a riot of curls stacked high above their foreheads and gracefully flowing around their young faces. Charity judged the portrait to be at least a few centuries old. It seemed it had been almost that long since it had last been cleaned as well.
"What is that you're using, dear?" asked one of the girls.
"Just a varnish remover and neutralizer," Charity answered.
"Really?" chimed in another girl. "You may want to try an emulsion cleaner next time, it can work wonders."
"Thanks, but I'll have to run it past the head caretaker first."
"Oh, what he doesn't know won't hurt him," said a dark-eyed girl with a wink.
It was odd - the girls appeared to be only Charity's age, maybe even younger because the formal clothing probably added on a few years, but they spoke like older women. The hour spent with them fussing over her and asking her all sorts questions about the current state of Muggle Studies and a multitude of other topics passed quite pleasurably.
When Charity somewhat reluctantly left them to have another go at Cadogan, one of the girls told her, "Don't worry about him. Once he sees how brilliant we all look after you've finished with us, he'll come crawling to you."
Sure enough, a few days later, helmet in hand, Cadogan approached Charity and said, "Fair maiden, I fear that I have misjudged you. You have served the portraits well." He fell to his knees, saying, "I beg your forgiveness. Please, cleanse me with your wondrous cloth."
"Oh, brother," Charity muttered. She gave him an extra thorough exfoliation for all the trouble he'd given her.
Despite working so closely with Filch all week, Charity's relationship with the caretaker didn't improve one bit. Her usual attempts at flattery and charm had absolutely no effect on him whatsoever. When she complimented his steadfast appreciation of Muggle techniques, both he and his cat only glowered at her and stumped away. Meanwhile, Filch took advantage of every opportunity to belittle Charity. When she struggled to open an unyielding door to de-web the room beyond, Filch walked past and cackled nastily, "That tower's been blasted off for almost three hundred years!" Charity decided her best course of action with Filch and Mrs. Norris was to simply avoid them as much as possible.
The exhausting week wasn't a total loss, however, as the intense preparations resulted in a positively gleaming castle - just in time for the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. As the students and staff lined up to greet their guests, Charity finally stopped to take a breath and noticed that the rest of the teaching staff was whipped into an absolute tizzy. She sensed that the competition between the schools extended far beyond the Triwizard tasks.
"Straighten up Longbottom. For heaven's sake put those away you two!" McGonagall hissed, while Snape eyeballed his line of Slytherin students, roughly straightening collars and smacking any heads that were turned the wrong way. Even Dumbledore's smile seemed to have a somewhat plastered look to it. The guests arrived in dramatic fashion and were ushered into the Great Hall. Once assembled, Dumbledore explained that any student aged seventeen and up who wanted a chance to compete in the Triwizard tournament would have the next twenty four hours to place their name into a golden chalice – the Goblet of Fire.
The actual selection of champions occurred at the Halloween feast the next evening. On that night the golden chalice produced among glowing blue flames the name of one student from each school to represent that school as its champion. A very pretty girl, much admired by most of the boys in the hall, named Fleur Delacour was chosen for Beauxbatons; Victor Krum, who also happened to be a famous professional Quidditch player, for Durmstrang; and Cedric Diggory for Hogwarts, a handsome Hufflepuff boy much admired by most of the girls in the hall.
Charity clapped along with the crowd as she'd done with the Sorting Hat, but had no idea at all how it really worked. She only understood that this was an ancient form of magic and that the goblet was considered infallible; whatever names it produced were not to be challenged. The entire room was surprised when a fourth name appeared in the blue flames – Harry Potter, a Hogwarts student in the Gryffindor house. This was astonishing not only because everyone thought there would be only three champions, but also because Harry was well under-age at only fourteen.
The school soon became consumed with the tournament and speculation about how Harry had managed to get his name in the draw. The Muggle Studies classroom was dominated by Hufflepuffs, most of whom seemed angry that the rule-breaker was trying to steal their champion's glory. It was all Charity could do to keep the students focused on their class work. She tried going with the flow by introducing the ancient Olympic Games in Greece, but soon found out that javelin throwing and chariot racing couldn't compete with what was in store for the four champions.
On a late November day the students and staff of Hogwarts marched out to the grounds to pack into bleachers that were set in an open area around the edge of the Forbidden Forest. What they saw in the clearing was astonishing – an enormous silvery-blue dragon with long pointed horns and a stunted snout. Charity had only ever seen dragons in pictures, so the reality of what was before her took a moment to sink in. It was a gorgeous creature. Magnificent. She was beginning to understand Professor Hagrid's affinity for such creatures. She looked around for him and saw that, sure enough, Hagrid had a front row seat. The look on his face was pure ecstasy.
Her attention snapped back to the dragon when it let out a loud snarl. She glanced fearfully over the crowd of students and considered that it seemed a bit risky to place all of them in such close proximity to the beast, even with the short fence that separated the crowd from the clearing. When she looked back at the dragon, she noted that it didn't seem to be paying the least bit of attention to the crowd. Its snarl had been at a large bird that had swooped too close.
She noticed that her view of the enclosure was somewhat clouded. Looking down to the end of the fence, she saw little Professor Flitwick, the Charms instructor, tapping at the edge of the barely visible smoky wall. Charity figured it must be some sort of large-scale charm that had been placed in front of the crowd to shield it from the Dragon's view as a precaution. Additionally, she now noticed wizards in dark, and presumably fire-resistant, suits and hoods stationed at intervals around the enclosure with their wands at the ready. These were dragon handlers, the specialists Dumbledore had told them would be poised to step in if the task got out of hand.
A whistle blew and Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts entered the ring. Several girls in the crowd shrieked in excitement for the handsome and popular dark haired boy. Clearly, the task had begun, but there'd been no announcements ahead of time to explain what the champions had to do. The crowd figured out soon enough that the objective was for each champion to extract a golden egg from among a nest of the dragon's real eggs. Diggory paced back and forth as the dragon began snapping and snarling furiously in defense of its eggs. He pointed his wand at a large rock in the enclosure, and the rock began to turn black and change shape. It transformed into a black Labrador Retriever, and the crowd screamed. Charity could hear Professor McGonagall clapping furiously and yelling, "Well done Diggory!"
The dog ran for it, and the dragon went for the chase, while Diggory drew nearer to the eggs. The dragon's maternal instincts were too strong, and she turned in time to shoot a blast of fire that knocked him back. The crowd yelled as Diggory ducked behind another rock just in time to avoid being completely barbequed.
"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow. He's taking risks, this one!1" said Ludo Bagman, head of Magical Games and Sports for the Ministry of Magic, who had finally stepped up to commentate on the task.
Diggory performed a series of tricky spells to try and further distract the dragon but to no avail. Luckily, the unwise dog circled back and caught the dragon's attention just long enough for Diggory to dive at the nest, grab the golden egg, and roll behind another rock. The crowd burst into applause, and the dragon handlers rushed to the field to subdue the dragon. To Charity's great surprise, three of the handlers waved their wands in the air around the dragon and a watery looking shield rose all around until it encompassed the dragon. At that point the entire dragon, nest and all, completely disappeared from view. Meanwhile, three other handlers waved their wands in another quadrant of the clearing and an entirely different dragon appeared, this one smooth-scaled and green.
Another whistle sounded, and Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons entered the ring with her silvery blond hair flowing behind her. She gripped her wand tightly, and there was no mistaking the terror on the poor girl's beautiful face. Charity could see the Beauxbatons headmistress (she was at least as large as Hagrid and rather hard to miss) nervously flourishing her wand in a mock charm. Delacour took a deep breath and mimicked her headmistress' exact movement with her wand. She repeated the movement several times before the dragon's eyes became dazed and the green giant gradually fell into a deep sleep. Unfortunately for Delacour, it fell asleep right on top of the eggs. To make matters worse, the dragon snored. Random flames shot from its snout and ignited Delacour's skirt. She quickly doused the flames with a water charm and steered clear of the dragon's snout as she dealt with the problem of removing its ten tons from the eggs. A few prods of her wand and a tickling charm later, the dragon rolled onto its side, exposing the nest, and the golden egg was hers.
Krum was up next, and the surly athlete's performance was nothing short of stupendous. Avid fans throughout the crowd rallied as Krum fearlessly faced an odd-looking red dragon with tiny gold spikes surrounding its pointed face. The creature sent mushroom-shaped fire clouds from its snout as Krum daringly approached it head on. He hit the dragon with a powerful jinx to the eyes that caused the dragon to shriek in agony. The crowd sucked in a unified gasp at the horrible sound. Krum was not abashed and continued on directly toward the thrashing red monster. Charity noticed a thick puss oozing from the dragon's eyes. The puss obstructed the enormous creature's vision and obviously caused extreme pain; its scarlet and gold head rolled back and forth on its thick neck, and the agonized creature began pounding its huge taloned feet on the ground. Charity could feel the bench beneath her vibrate with the force of each step. One of its feet landed right in the nest. To her horror, Charity saw that some of the real eggs had been smashed.
Krum was dangerously close to being smashed along with the eggs when Bagman announced, "That's some nerve he's showing – and- yes, he's got the egg!"2
The final champion entered the ring. Charity was suddenly struck by how much smaller Harry Potter was than the other champions. He had the fiercest looking dragon yet, with thick black scales, vicious yellow eyes, and huge leathery wings. Worst of all, its tail was equipped with six-foot long spikes. Potter's stride was not as confident as Krum's. He waved his wand and yelled an incantation while he held his other arm outstretched. The crowd was breathlessly waiting to see what was going to happen next when a broomstick suddenly came zooming over the bleachers, nearly knocking two students off their top bench. Potter had summoned his racing broom. He mounted it and flew high above the cheering crowd. It seemed as if any hard feelings over how he'd managed to enter the competition had dissolved the moment his small figure entered the clearing to face his formidable opponent.
Potter dove toward the dragon and pulled out just before getting scorched with a burst of flames. Ludo Bagman yelled, "Great Scott he can fly! Are you watching this Mr. Krum?"3 as the crowd roared its approval.
Potter taunted the dragon with some very smart flying. Just as the dragon spread its wings to take off and get him, he dove and grabbed the golden egg. The crowd clapped and cheered; the sound was nearly deafening. All the champions had outwitted their dragon! Charity found their performances amazing, especially since none of them had had any clue what was expected of them until just before they'd entered the clearing.
Once the last champion received his marks (Potter and Krum tied for first), Charity rushed off to the Owlery. Her father, who was hoping to come see at least one of the challenges, was very disappointed to have to miss the very first, so Charity had promised to send him a play-by-play update. His disappointment was sure to increase when he found out that he'd missed one of his favorite Quidditch players, Krum, fighting a dragon! On her way back up to the castle, she looked toward the place where she reckoned the blasted-off tower Filch had chastised her about should be. Sure enough, nothing was there except a mess of bricks that she supposed had once been the base of that tower.
She reached the Owlery, which was a slender turret at the corner of the castle. It was the equivalent of a Muggle post office. Students and staff came here to send their letters and packages, and owls rested here in between deliveries. There were no windows, just curved openings so the owls could come and go freely. Just as Charity finished her letter and rolled up the pressed-flower parchment, a stocky young man walked into the Owlery. He was dressed in black, leathery-looking pants and turtleneck, and his red hair was tousled as if he'd just pulled off a hat he'd been wearing for a very long time.
"Charity…Charity Burbage?" asked the newcomer with a bit of hesitation.
"Charlie Weasley!" Charity yelped and jumped up into his slightly scorched, outstretched arms as the old friends recognized each other. Charlie and Charity had met many summers earlier at a magical adventure camp when they were still students.
"I'd heard you were off working with dragons somewhere. I should've realized you'd be here!" Charity said.
"Well, we had to keep everything top secret, you know. How about that challenge! Unbelievable, wasn't it?"
"Incredible," Charity responded, still in awe of it all.
"So, what're you doing here?" Charlie asked.
"Oh, Charlie - I'm a professor!"
"Really?" he asked, trying to cover his surprise with a big smile.
"Yes," she laughed. "Don't worry about it, Charlie, no one is more surprised than me."
"What'd' you teach?"
"Muggle Studies."
"Muggles! Does my dad know? He'll flip - he's nutters for them y'know."
"Oh yeah – I'd forgotten about that. Maybe I'll have to have him in as a guest speaker some time.
"He'd sure love that," Charlie said. The two old friends stood smiling at each other and arranged to get together one more time in the nearby, all-wizard village of Hogsmeade to talk about old times before Charlie was off again to return the dragons to Romania.
Before popping into the Three Broomsticks, a cozy Hogsmeade pub, Charity and Charlie visited many of the shops; Charlie, who usually found himself in the depths of a remote forest or on the vast plains of some Dragon habitat, was eager to stock up on as much as he could from civilization. As they walked from shop to shop along the wide street, they made fast friends with one of the local strays. The mangy black dog waited for them to emerge from each shop and then trotted along beside them to the next, probably because Charlie slipped him a sweet from Honeydukes every time. Along the way, Charity had the oddest sensation that the large, scruffy dog was actually paying rapt attention to their conversation, particularly when they discussed thrilling details of the first Triwizard challenge and the possible dangers to face the champions in the future. She wondered if it was perhaps the dog Cedric Diggory had transformed from the rock.
The dog became very affectionate when Charity knelt down to give him a good rubbing behind the ears. He'd jumped up with his paws on her shoulders and licked her face and neck so vigorously that he almost knocked her over before Charlie yelled at him, "I'm serious, get off of her!" The dog immediately backed off and seemed genuinely abashed, although Charity thought she detected a new swagger in its step afterwards. On future visits to Hogsmeade, she was sure to remain resolutely upright when patting him on the head while he gobbled whatever sweet she'd given him. She never did see the dog again after her first year at Hogwarts. She hoped he was okay - and that he'd found himself a girlfriend.
1 Text is exact quote from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling p.352
2 Ibid, p. 353
3 Ibid, p. 354