((Two chapters in one day...this must be some kind of record with me. Truth? I actually forgot that I had chapter five written, but I figured I might as well upload it, considering six and seven are both on their way to completion, as well. You'll be seeing those, soon.
A BIG thank you to everyone who favorited or is following this story! Words cannot describe how much I appreciate that. I would, however, love to hear more from you. Let me know what you think!
Enjoy the chapter!
P.S: Time zones = haha, fail. I don't actually know the difference (if there is a difference?) and to be honest, with school and work and all else, I didn't have time to find out. So we're just pretending there is none.))
Dear Miss. Morse, the second Ministry letter began, we are delighted to hear of acquiescence to this new post. We truly believe that you shall aid our effort in improving the techniques of dragon training. Should any problems arise you may, of course, return to Icarus Farm and your old post. As we said in our last missive, you should be prepared to leave immediately. An owl has already been sent to Romania. We have received your luggage, and it will be waiting for you upon your arrival. Please Disapparate immediately.
Thank you.
The good-byes had been enacted the night of the first letter, her bags had been packed. There was nothing left to do. She had made her last visit to each barn, had said good-bye to her favorites and spent a good deal of time amidst her thestrals. When the owl tapped on her window at quarter after one in the morning, there had been nothing to delay her. She had thrown on a coat, took one last, longing look around her bedroom, spun on her heel, and Disapparated into the light of early morning.
When the vaguely unpleasant sensation of Apparition had dissolved, leaving her standing and only slightly disoriented, Shay was left to gaze around in bewilderment. She was nowhere. Nowhere recognizable as a town or even a small village. Instead, a thick bunch of thistle-like bushes crowded to her left while a forest stretched away in all directions. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled his long, good-night song.
"Where am I?" Shay whispered, peering blindly into the dark.
"Off your target, that's for sure."
Shay jumped and whirled around sharply with her wand drawn to face…Charlie Weasley. Catching her breath, Shay lowered her wand.
"What are you doing here?"
A single eyebrow rose in response.
"Are you Shay Morse?"
"…Yes"
"Then I'm here to take you back to base. Unless you'd prefer that I leave you here…?"
Oh. Shay felt her face flush, felt the blush creep around to the back of her neck.
"Thank you," she said stiffly, her embarrassment making her shy. Charlie shrugged.
"C'mon, then. This way."
He set off on an unmarked path through the forest, hands in his pockets. Feeling as if they hadn't had the best of introductions, Shay stumbled along as best she could without a word. Better not to exacerbate the situation, she decided, by saying anything. She was too tired and nervous and unsure of her decision to trust anything she might say, in that moment. Instead, she watched Charlie walking from the corner of her eye.
He looked much the same as he had the day she'd seen him in Diagon Alley. Although, considering the short stretch of time that had been, it was really no surprise. He wasn't built like Fred and George, the tricksters. He wasn't tall and gangly, and had really never been through the my-limbs-are-too-long phase that had made his brothers seem like straggling young colts. He was shorter, stockier, built more along the side of strength than height with skin scarred by burns, teeth, and claws.
"How long are you here for?" he asked suddenly. Shay shrugged, trooping along just behind him as if she were playing follow-the-leader.
"They didn't tell me, really," she said quietly, pulling her coat closer around her shoulders. The night was dark, still, and just cold enough to make her bones stiff and shaky.
"Why?"
Shay glanced up at him with furrowed brows.
"I don't have a clue."
"No, why are you here?"
The irritation in his voice had become more than a note, rapidly rising with each question. Why she warranted this treatment, Shay couldn't guess.
"They think I can help, I suppose," Shay replied.
"We don't need your help," he said, voice low and deceptively steady. "We're managing just fine on our own."
"With stunning spells and chains, I'm sure," Shay said finally, snapping. "And by the looks of your scars, I'd say that's not working too well."
They traveled on in silence, the breeze ruffling the tops of the trees. The branches clicked together like fingernails and old, dry grass crunched beneath their feet. After what seemed like days of walking, firelight flickered against the darkness of the forest, and the unmistakable sound of large animals simply living shifted to her ears.
"Here we are," Charlie said as they approached the source of the light and noise. "Home sweet home."
The base was no Quidditch World Cup; it was a permanent establishment, so tents had long ago been abandoned for sturdier methods: huts had been erected, big enough to house up to three people comfortably. Probably under enchantments to protect against fire, Shay supposed, though they looked as if they were made of wood. Further off were the larger buildings Shay supposed had to be the dragon enclosures.
"There are ten cabins," Charlie said, drawing her attention back to the cluster of smaller buildings. "Four for women, six for men. There is currently an empty female cabin, which you may take, unless you choose to share with one of the others. Dragons are kept in those enclosures back there. They're currently sedated, so you won't see them 'til morning. Laundry is done on Wednesdays at the crack of dawn, so if you want clean clothes you'll get them to the annex at the back of The Hall. Got it?"
Shay nodded, mute, blood still uncomfortably close to boiling. Had he always been this way? She remembered a gentleman from Hogwarts…or as close as a teenage boy could get to one.
"It's too dark to show you much tonight," Charlie continued wearily, running a hand absently through his red hair. "So we'll have to continue in the morning. Here, I'll get you settled in somewhere."
He set off with long strides across the grass, stopping in front of one of the huts. He knocked quickly on the door and it was opened by a wiry middle-aged woman with steely eyes and dark hair pulled back in a severe plait.
"Yes?"
"Anna, this is Shay," Charlie said, waving a hand abstractly toward the newcomer. "She's the winged horse trainer they brought in. Needs a place to stay tonight, are you at capacity?"
Anna shook her head, folding her leanly muscled arms over her stomach.
"Isn't there a vacant cabin?" Her voice was rough, like Muggles who had smoked too many cigarettes in their lifetimes. Charlie nodded.
"Can't get in, tonight," he replied. "Evan's asleep, and you know how he is if you wake him. Can't get the keys until tomorrow."
Anna nodded, scrutinizing Shay as she stood just behind Charlie, out of reach of the doorway.
"Itty little thing, isn't she?"
Charlie turned, suddenly focusing all of his attention on Shay, who felt it acutely. Never one to be the center of attention, the feeling of four scrutinizing, calculating eyes felt like nine hundred. Charlie simply shrugged, then turned back to Anna.
"Smaller than most, maybe. See how long she lasts," Charlie replied with a grin, the hint of a spark in his eye the only thing that hinted at even the shadow of a joke. "Ministry seems to like her. And those Abraz-things…"
"Abraxans," Shay corrected quickly. Charlie held his hands up in mocking surrender.
"Those Abraxan things are pretty damn big, themselves."
"Maybe she just got lucky with those," Anna said, eyes still on Shay. "They're close enough to Muggle horses, after all."
If her blood had not been boiling before, it had certainly started that way by now. At least she knew the slightest bit about dragons. They, apparently, knew nothing of winged horses.
"Point is, she needs a place to stay for the night," Charlie said. "You have an extra bed, yeah?"
Anna nodded. "Good. She'll stay here for the night, be out by tomorrow. Can you live with that?"
"For the moment," Anna replied. "Just stay quiet, would you? And don't get too comfortable. No unpacking."
"Couldn't even if she wanted to," Charlie said before she could respond. "Her luggage is with Evan, at the moment. You'll get that back in the morning, by the way," he added to Shay. "You'll just have to make do for the night. Ta."
With this, he jumped from the doorstep, swaggering off to his own cabin.
"Come on," Anna said from the doorway, "Before you let absolutely all of the cold in." Shay scurried through the door and into the cozy interior of the cabin. The furniture was an eclectic mixture of antiques and more modern pieces, shoved into the small rooms haphazardly. The faint sound of snoring issue from a back room.
"That's Claire," Anna said in a hoarse whisper, "You'll meet her in the morning." She led Shay down a short hallway and thrust a door open on a small room containing a bed, desk, dresser, and mirror. The bed was thankfully dressed, pillow and blankets ready. "You'll be staying here," Anna said. "'Night." She left, disappearing around a bend in the corridor. Moments later, a door shut somewhere in the cabin.
"Good night," Shay muttered, dropping heavily onto the bed and thinking Well, this is off to an auspicious start. She fell backward, head on the pillow, and folded her hands over her ribcage, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep would be almost impossible tonight, she knew. Her mind was already racing. Rolling over onto her side, she gazed through the small, floral-curtained windows into the night sky and hoped that the dragon researchers were only this cranky at night.
Morning came sooner than she would have hoped, even before the sun had risen as her cabin-mates began to move. The sounds of their normal morning routine had woken her as efficiently as an alarm: plates, cups, and silverware clashed in the kitchen. Shay blinked the sleep from her eyes, rubbed her knuckles wearily across them, and slid to the floor. Day one, and it was time to begin. No matter what awaited her.
The cacophony in the kitchen was caused by a plump young witch with glossy black ringlets and olive skin, cooking entirely without magic. She turned and smiled when she heard Shay in the doorway.
"Good morning!" She said cheerfully: her eyes were an odd shape of amber with pupils like a cat's. "You're the new girl?"
Shay nodded mutely, squinting into the brightly-lit kitchen. "What's your name, love?"
"Shay Morse."
"Shay, hmm? That short for something, or are your parents just creative?"
Shay smiled.
"It's Saoirse, really, but it's kind of clumsy and awkward to use. Everyone just calls me Shay."
"Saoirse." The young witch who must be the snoring Claire rolled the name around on her tongue. "It's not clumsy, it's beautiful. Would you mind terribly if I used it?"
"Not at all, if you don't mind being the only one who does," Shay responded with a grin. The girl reminded her of Addie, and was the first friendly person she'd met.
"Well, I've always been a bit different," she replied. "I'm Claire, by the way. Please, sit down. Eggs and bacon?"
"Oh, yes please."
Claire seemed to brighten visibly.
"Ah, a girl who eats," she said. "Finally. Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee, please," Shay said. "With milk, if you have any."
"Of course," Claire replied, bustling around happily. Shay rose to help, but was waved away near-violently.
"No no, you sit," Claire said. "I've got all of this. You just sit down and relax."
Shay sank back doubtfully and glanced around the kitchen. Pewter pots and pans hung from the ceiling, the windows were curtained in cheery yellow, and there were lights everywhere. The whole room was full with the smell of coffee brewing and bacon spitting grease in a pan on the stove.
"Why don't you use magic, if you don't mind my asking?"
Claire shrugged.
"Cooking is just different," she said. "Special. The best food just has to be made by hand, you know?"
Shay didn't, but nodded anyway. Claire poured milk and coffee into a mug and handed it over along with a piece of buttered toast on a plate.
"The rest will be along in a moment," she said. "How are you feeling on your first day?"
Shay shrugged, running a finger along the rim of the mug.
"Like I could use a little more sleep," she replied. "But other than that, I guess I'm alright."
"Ever been around dragons before?"
Shay shrugged.
"Most of what I know about them is theory," she responded. "Books and studying, that kind of thing. I've never actually been up close and personal with one."
"You're in for an adventure with our beasties, then," Claire said. "They've all got enough personality to fill the oceans twice over. I take it you've met Charlie?"
"He seemed…kind of surly, but yes."
"Oh, he's not generally. He's really very sweet. And don't tell him this, but lots of the girls on the base rather fancy him. He's good with the beasts, kind to 'em, you know?"
Claire, it seemed, was the kind of person who assumed people held encyclopedic volumes of knowledge in their heads. Shay played along, nodded her head for what seemed the thousandth time, and took a deep sip from her coffee to occupy herself.
"I imagine you're getting the full tour today, then, Saoirse?"
"I believe that's the plan, yes. And then I'll be moving in to whatever empty cabin I'll…"
"Empty cabin? Why can't you just stay here?"
Claire paused a moment to ladle portions of scrambled egg onto three plates.
"I…don't think I'm wanted,"
"Not wanted? Nonsense! The more the merrier, I say. Who told you that you weren't welcome? It wasn't Anna, was it?" Claire didn't wait for a response before continuing. "Don't mind her, she's just cranky all of the time because she wasn't made leader of this base, and she thinks she should be. No. You can stay here, of course you can. I'll talk to Evan and get you your own key straight away. Anna will come around, she always does. You were comfortable in that spare room, weren't you?"
Overcome by this flood of speech, Shay gazed absently at the other girl, then slowly nodded. Again.
"Good. Oh!"
The door had swung open after two short knocks to reveal none other than Charlie Weasley himself, his dark hair messier than usual. There was a new, shiny burn on his right forearm which Claire noticed immediately. She clucked her tongue in disapproval, ushering Charlie to a seat and pushing a plate of breakfast toward him.
"You're going to get killed one of these days, the way you are with those things," she said disapprovingly. Charlie snorted, shook his head, and dug his teeth into a piece of toast so heartily buttered that some slid down the grain of it.
"It's my job, Claire."
"I know that, you great buffoon. By the way, don't you bother going to Evan about putting this girl on her own in an empty cabin, she's more than welcome to stay here."
"You sure Anna will be alright?"
"She can get over herself," Claire said, plunking her own plate down. "Orange juice, anyone?"
"Please," Charlie said. Shay waved the offer away with her hand, chewing on a bit of egg. "Have you said this to Anna, yet?"
"She's still asleep. You know her, she never eats in the mornings."
Beginning to feel more and more like a fly on the wall, Shay cleared her throat briefly, earning just-as-brief glances from the other two.
"What do you say, Morse? Willing to stay here?"
"I don't see why not."
Charlie looked at her: his glance was not what she had been expecting. It was level, unsmiling but not unkind, calculating without the edge of manipulation that would have given it menace. She didn't know what to make of it, but held his gaze, anyway: if there was one thing she had learned from years upon years spent with animals, it was the value of eye contact. Winged horses did it, to convince each other of dominance. Although they paired it with nips and kicks, which Shay certainly hoped wouldn't be necessary, here. If she dropped Charlie's gaze, she was submissive. If she held it too long, she was a threat. After what could only have been a few seconds, she angled her gaze away from his eyes to the center of his forehead, then up and away to the window. Finally averted, she returned to breakfast.
The silence that fell amidst the clinking of silverware against plates was somewhere between tentatively friendly and awkward, lingering longer than it was probably meant to. Finally, when all three plates were cleared, glasses and mugs drained of their contents, Claire waved her wand (the first Shay had seen of it) and cleared the dishes away.
"Alright," Charlie said, "let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
"Alright," Shay echoed, pulling herself to her feet, dreading the fact that she would have to spend the next who-knew-how-long alone with Charlie Weasley who, apparently, despised her. Or thought she was a threat in some way, which had the possibility to be worse than hatred.
"First thing, we'll talk to Evan about getting your things sent to the spare room in there," Charlie said. "And see about getting you a key. Then we'll head up to the dragon dens and get started."
The cabin they were headed toward was a bit more ramshackle than the others, one window thrown half-open to the morning breeze. The door listed slightly to the left on its hinges, and the steps were swept over by leaves. Charlie cleared his throat and stepped up to the door, knocked thrice, sharply, and then stepped back. A few moments passed without any movement from within.
"Maybe you should…"
Charlie raised a hand, cutting Shay off mid-sentence.
"He's coming," Charlie said. "Trust me."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the door swung open, revealing the largest entirely human male Shay had ever seen. He was close to Hagrid in height with bright red hair and a red beard like a wood-cutter's, scraggly red eyebrows etching lines above flinty grey eyes.
"Yes?" He rumbled. The man burped, and his breath smelled like stale alcohol. Shay winced, shying away, slinking around behind Charlie as if he would shield her.
"You're in for a nasty surprise if he scares you," Charlie said. "Dragons are ten times worse."
Expecting the man to take offense, Shay peered at him warily around Charlie's side. He didn't react but to grin crookedly and scratch the back of his neck.
"Dragons aren't people," Shay said quietly. Charlie seemed to understand (or so the look in his eyes would have her believe) and turned back around to face the man in the doorway.
"Evan, this is our newcomer, the Pegasus girl. Shay Morse. Be nice, will you?"
"Do what I can," the man replied, squinting into the bright light to a space just above Shay's right shoulder.
"Shay, this is Evan. Keeper of the Keys, and right useless at just about anything else. While you're here, he can get you anything you need concerning the cabins. Right now, Ev, we need the key for Number 4, and her luggage sent there as well."
"Right" Evan nodded and swung back into the darkness of the cabin, returning in moments with a brass key, a number "4" engraved on its head.
"Here y'are," he said. "Don't lose it, only got one more."
Charlie took the key and passed it behind him to Shay, who took the slender brass thing in her hands, turning it between her fingers and slipping it into an empty pocket.
"Thanks, Ev. Sure she won't. See you around, and don't go too heavy on that Firewhiskey, we clear?"
"Sure thing, boss."
The door closed, separating Charlie and Shay from Evan.
"He's back at it as we speak," Charlie said, voice rough. "Always is. He's a good man, though. Just a bit too fond of drink. Good at his job, and that's all that really matters."
Charlie continued walking, his strides long and purposeful. Shay had to take two just to keep up until she was all but trotting alongside him.
"We keep the "camp" at a good distance from the dens," he said finally. "Just to eliminate the slightest chance of danger that could arise. They're all fireproof, of course. As are the dens. There could be any number of dragons here at any given time, some just stopping through on their way to a different reserve. We get lots of the European breeds, not so many of the Asian ones. Lots of Welsh Greens and Hungarian Horntails, a couple of Chinese Fireballs. Mostly your more common varieties, though. I trust you know what those are."
"I did my homework," Shay replied dryly.
"You were a Ravenclaw, weren't you?"
Shay glanced up quickly, then nodded.
"Yeah, I was. Through and through." "I think I remember you," he said. "Oliver Wood's cousin, right? You came to every game."
Hearing his voice without the bite of sarcasm or the tilt of information was a shock. This was pure, friendly conversation and it was strange to hear it from his voice.
"You remember that?" Charlie shrugged.
"Vaguely. I remember Oliver pointed you out once, and then I caught sight of you a couple of times after that. You didn't play ever, you just watched."
"I'm a bad flyer," Shay admitted. "When it comes to broomsticks, anyway."
"You fly with your horses?"
Shay nodded.
"All the time," she said quietly. "There's no feeling better in this world."
This sentiment she knew Charlie would understand: it was so close to the way he had to feel flying on a broomstick. But nothing could beat the lift and glide of strong, feathered wings. Nothing could beat the surge of energy as rider's heart kept time with the horse's. Nothing could beat the perfect synchronous breath as they circled…
"Here we are," Charlie said, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to Romania. They stood before two large, slanting roofs which seemed to have only an inch of wall space below them. "The dens are mostly underground," Charlie said. "It's cooler. Kind of like Gringotts. C'mon, you can get to know our friendly creatures." Charlie smirked, tapping twice on the wall. He murmured something unintelligible and the wall appeared to dissolve, melting in on itself to allow them entry. Stretching out before them was a magic-perfect circle of a tunnel, the Earth smoothed as hard and neat as marble. Torches were posted into the wall, casting spears of light on the path before them: at the end of the tunnel all light seemed to vanish, whirling away into the dark.
"Where…"
"Stairs," Charlie said with a grin. "Sort of. Freaked me out the first day, too. Think of Hogwarts, only worse."
Shay smiled hesitantly.
"Worse?"
"You'll see."
They started off down the tunnel, heading closer to the end where the light swirled away.
"No light at the end of this tunnel, hmm?" Shay murmured. Charlie chuckled.
"Way to touch upon the most cliché joke around this place," he said. "Watch your step."
They had walked the length of the tunnel, standing in a kind of perpetual dim that edged the "stairs" as Charlie had claimed. He bounded past her, jumping up on something, and it was as if he had disappeared. His hand appeared through the darkness, dim and nearly glowing.
"Step up," he said, the fingers on his hand waving her forward. "Take my hand."
She did as she was told, slipping her hand into his. Their hands touched for only a moment as he helped to lift her onto the first "stair", but it was enough for her to feel the buildup of burn scars and calluses that marked his palm and fingers. "Take hold of the rail," he said. "It'll start in a second."