((So, I'm starting to write this backward, from the last chapter. This is kind of a bridge chapter, so everything should start to happen a bit more quickly, now. Although you might want to kill me after the end chapter. Just a warning. We'll see, though, I might change my mind...
Enjoy the chapter! ))

"No. Shay, this is ridiculous, bring that thing back to Henry, alright?"

"Charlie, Henry just said..."

"That they can't take care of him? Yeah, exactly - if they can't, what makes you think you can?"

"I don't see why you're so worked up about this..."

"Can't see why I'm..." Charlie sucked in a deep breath, stared at the baby dragon in Shay's arms, aghast. "I just can't believe this. They aren't pets, love, you can't..."

"I'm aware of that Charlie," Shay said, swiftly becoming frustrated. "But I think I'm in a better position than most to take care of a dragon no one else is going to bother with. They don't have the time. I do. And if it's a choice that gives him a shot at life then damnit, Charlie, I'm going to take it!"

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Then why are you looking at me that way?"

"Because you're amazing, at the same time. Fine. Fine. But I'm not helping you, Shay, especially not with the feedings. You can have fun waking up every half hour to feed him."

"Oh..."

"Hadn't thought of that, had you?"

Shay wrinkled her nose in distaste for a moment, then sighed and shook her head.
"Well, if that's what it takes," she said finally. Charlie smirked and walked past her, then snuck his arms around her waist from the back, mouth by her ear.

"By the way," he told her, the breath from his whisper making her tilt her head toward his, "Those rules are outdated."

"Really?"

"Yeah...they boosted it to every hour years 's a bit better, yeah?"

"I'll figure something out."

"I'm sure you will, Shay." He kissed her cheek and then was gone, clattering around the kitchen in search of food. "Guess that teaches me to stay home from work, right? What are you planning on coming home with, next?"
Shay grinned and moved into the kitchen. She had to feed the dragon a vile mix of chicken's blood and brandy every hour, on the hour.

"One thing I've never understood," she said as she concocted the substance, "is the taste magical creatures have for alcohol. Single-malt whiskey for the Abraxans, brandy for dragons..."

"I wouldn't question it," Charlie said, spooning cereal out of an enormous bowl.

"You know you might as well use a serving spoon to eat out of that thing."
Charlie grinned, but continued to eat from his normal-sized spoon. Shay shook her head and waved her wand to heat the dragon food. Henry had given her what was basically a dragon-proof baby bottle, which she filled with the red mix. As she fed it to the dragon cradled in her gloved hands, she began to hum a song her mother used to sing to her. Strangely, her sister had heard a different lullaby - each of the girls with their own song.

"What is that?"

"Hmm? Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Not you, Charlie, the dragon, he's trying to tear this thing to shreds...stop it, it's not coming off no matter how hard you bite at it."

The dragon looked up at her and gave a strange, mewling growl.

"I know you're hungry," Shay told it, shifting its weight as she tilted the bottle, "But biting this is not going to help anything."

The dragon chick snapped its jaws but didn't seem to struggle with the bottle anymore.

"Anyway," Shay said, now that the dragon was happily drinking, "It's a lullaby my mother used to sing to me, when I was small. It gets...caught in my head, you know? Sometimes."

"Does it have any words?"

"Are you asking me to sing?"

"Maybe. I've never heard you sing, you know."

"That's not exactly unusual, Charlie, I've never heard you sing, either..."

"That's because I don't," Charlie said. "And you don't want me to, believe me."

"I'm not very good," Shay warned.

"If you can hold a tune, you're better than me."

"You really want to hear it?"

"Of course."

Shay sighed, then closed her eyes.

"After all is said and done
And the dark meets with the One,
Then the lion and the dove
Mingle tears and mourn their love.
In the day war meets its end
Then, the dove, it will be penned
To meet its fate, no more to sing
As freedom's sacrifice takes wing.
Only then when her time's done
Shall dark surrender to the sun."

The cabin's silence seemed, for a moment, absolute, as if the lullaby had taken so much sound there was none left over.

"That was your lullaby?"
Shay nodded, and set the bottle on the table - the dragon had fallen asleep, his chin resting on her wrist. She smiled down at him fondly, then walked him in to lay him down on the hearth, close by the fire.

"It's so sad."

"Many lullabies are," Shay replied with a shrug. "But it doesn't mean anything."

A tap on the window and an owl's screech drew their attention. A handsome screech owl stared imperiously through the window. Noticing both sets of eyes on them it screeched again, demanding to be let in.
Charlie threw the window open and let the owl hop onto his arm. Shay untied the scroll of parchment from the owl's leg and immediately recognized the handwriting of Albus Dumbledore.

"It's Order business," she said as Charlie set out water for the owl. "And it..."
She paused, eyes scanning the handwriting.

"And what?"

"...They want you to investigate a Vasile and Adelina Petrescu, a husband and wife. Dumbledore thinks they may be conveying information to Lord Voldemort and gathering followers for him, here."

Charlie started violently at the sound of the dark wizard's name. For a moment, Shay couldn't figure out what had caused his reaction.

"Sorry," she said finally, blushing faintly. "My family never called him anything else."
In front of the fire, the baby dragon began to snore, emitting faint puffs of smoke from his nostrils.

"Why is it always you?"

"What?"

"They always want you to do all of this," Shay said. "Not that you aren't qualified, Charlie, because you clearly are, but...why don't they ever ask me?"
Charlie tugged the parchment from her hands, and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Shay," Charlie replied. "You'll get a task eventually. And besides, you have to take care of our new friend, there."

"I know, but...I just feel so useless, Charlie."

Charlie shook his head and slipped a hand around the back of her neck, gently pulling her head toward his.
"You're far from useless," he assured her, and kissed her forehead. "I promise. Shay, I'd better get going. I promised Clifford I'd help him. And I now have Henry to talk to..."

"Don't you dare go off on him, Charlie Weasley, I told him I wouldn't let you kill him."

Charlie's eyebrows shot up, and he laughed.
"Wasn't planning on killing him," he said. "Just...roughing him up about."

"Charlie, I'm serious. Don't. It's not his fault, I was considering Imperiusing him if he refused..."

"Somehow, I have a hard time imagining that."

Charlie threw a coat on, then paused in the open doorway.

"See you soon, love."

"Bye, Charlie."

Once he was gone and she was sure the dragon was still asleep, Shay found quill, ink, and parchment and began to write. When the letter was finished, she tied it to the screech owl's leg and offered him an owl treat, which he readily took.

"Deliver this straight to Dumbledore," She ordered. "And if anyone else tries to take it, don't let them. Understood?"
The owl hooted somberly,but conveyed his understanding and took off through the window Shay had opened for him. She watched the owl shrink until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, then shut the window against the chilly breeze. A quick glance back into the other room showed that the baby dragon was awake and blinking sleepily.

"Morning, baby," she said. She pulled the gloves back on and picked him up. "What should we call you, little prince?"
The dragon blinked up a her and hiccuped, shaking out its wings - the misshapen one fluttered against his side, but did not move much, otherwise.
"Cadfael," Shay decided finally. "That's what we'll call you. 'Battle prince'. I think it fits, don't you?"
After assembling another feeding, she tucked the bottle into a bag she slung over her shoulder - she put the dragon in the bag as well, his head peeping out from beneath the flap. Laughing at the curious look on his face, she made her way back to "her" cabin. She'd promised Claire she'd visit and visit she would. Even with an unexpected guest and a bottle of chicken blood and brandy in her bag. Something told her Claire wouldn't mind too much.