Winter 1991
Ronald Weasley
Ron took deep heaving breaths through his nose as he raised the glass jug to his mouth and pressed it against his lips in desperation. The cold sensation of the water coursed through his mouth and down his throat spreading a pleasant chill through his chest. His legs, which had wobbled only a few seconds earlier, became sturdier under him as if the clear water was an elixir. Ron couldn't have imagined an elixir being more effective in the circumstance.
He stood in the centre of the room of requirement, which had transformed from its usual affair to a spherical shape that reminded Ron of some sort of Arena. He could almost picture an entire team of Quidditch players zipping through the sky above him, diving towards the far-curved walls to try and score in hoops that would have been in the same general area as a few dozen scorch marks that Ron had caused. Sal stood nearby, a small pleased smile on his face as he waited for Ron to finish drinking. Ron savoured his smile almost as much as he savoured the water.
"You're getting better," Sal commended as Ron finally pulled the jug away from his face. "I believe that if your progress continues at its current rate, boy, you will be winning competitions as an adult. Perhaps not against the best in the world, sorry to say, but also perhaps close. Truthfully, I am not an expert on the subject of modern duelling, I only know that you would have been quite an accomplished student during my time."
Ron returned the founder's smile, a small surge of pride rising in his chest. "You really think I could be that good?"
Salazar shrugged. "Well, I do not see why you could not be. So long as you remain devoted to learning the correct spells and likewise as devoted to mastering them. I am quite impressed, Ronald, that you were able to pick up the Reductor curse so easily. Although, I shouldn't have expected anything less. Two new spells in a period of only forty-eight hours is no laughing matter, I can assure you. Many wizards have tried and failed to be as adaptable."
Ron nodded, finally feeling as if his heart wasn't going to explode out of his chest. "I don't really understand why I would use the Reductor curse, why not use the exploding charm instead?"
"It's a question that many wizards have asked. I can assure you, boy, that there is a method to that line of thinking. Some wizards learn only the most powerful spells they can and it provides them an edge that is hard for the common wizard or witch to overcome. However, it is much more useful to have an arsenal of spells, even if some of them are rather similar. Any wizard can learn one spell, a duelist must have an arsenal at the tip of his wand. You've felt how the spells differ, how the exploding charm is powerful but how it exhausts you rather quickly, while the opposite is true of the reductor curse. There is a time for both, and you would beat an opponent who only knows one in almost every circumstance. Do you understand?"
"I think so," Ron answered. Although he would have much preferred to just blow up anyone who attacked him like he did to the troll, he could see how it might be useful to have another option.
"Yes," Sal nodded at him. "And think of what happened last time, and how you had to spend days in the infirmary? Had you only been meaning to destroy an object, that would have been a terrible use of your time. A reductor curse wouldn't have killed the troll in one attack, but it also would not have landed you in the infirmary. It is my mistake that I did not think to teach you the reductor curse first."
Ron grimaced, he wasn't sure if he would have survived having to attack the troll a second time. "It's alright," he mumbled.
Salazar narrowed his eyes slightly. "Well, I think, Ronald, that the day is coming to an end. I can feel the sun setting over the castle, and I would not want to keep you. You should rest before tomorrow, a big day isn't it?"
Ron bit his lip. A small swell of nervousness washed over him. He couldn't believe that his parents had agreed to let him go to the Greengrass' for Christmas. He had never spent Christmas anywhere but home before but was glad that he was doing it with his friends and not alone at Hogwarts. If he had stayed, he almost shuddered, he probably would have had to open his gifts with Percy and the twins. He wasn't sure he could handle that, not so soon after everything that had happened with his parents. He would much rather things distance is good.
"Your notion of the holidays is quite different from my own," Sal said a little wistfully. "So much importance is placed on perception and not reality…"
A small thin frown formed on Ron's face. "Er— you'll be alright, won't you? I mean, while I'm away?" He hadn't even considered that Sal would be left alone.
"You have compassion boy, had I not known what you were capable of, I would assume you had weakness in your heart. But, I think you are a rare breed, a wizard who is equally as caring as he is ruthless…" Salazar's voice trailed enough. "Yes, yes. I will be fine, Ronald. You know, I think if I had, in my youth, been more like you then perhaps the world would not be so distributed today."
Ron felt his heart skip a wants to be like me? What?
"I mean to say, I made many mistakes. It was only Godric who nearly pulled me out of them. I would not like you to make the same mistakes, boy. I would want you, as all teachers do, to surpass me in every way. If I had spent my holidays doused in the love that I am sure existed for me, perhaps I would have grown so bitter. Perhaps I never would have left this place." A small sad smile crossed Salazar's lips. "Enjoy yourself, Ronald, I do not think things are so dire that the school will crumble in your absence."
"I still haven't found the person who let the troll in…" Ron mumbled.
"No, nor have you acquired the book that I asked for. And yet, here we are, both of us still alive. Or well, you're alive and I am just a shadow of a man who once was. But here nonetheless. Enjoy yourself these holidays, Ronald. I will anticipate your return and I will think of more spells to teach you which might not exhaust you so heavily."
Ron nodded and gave his instructor a slight bow. "Happy Christmas, Salazar."
"And to you, boy."
- SS -
Winter 1991
Charlie Weasley
Charlie tugged at the collar of his jacket, the stiff leather hide had ridden up against his neck while he had been feeding a Short-Snout leaving a slightly red mark. It was the kind of mark that Charlie was used to, the kind that all dragon tamers wore beneath their clothes that marked the raw physical exertion of their job. Luckily, it was the only mark Charlie wore, and he let out a small relieved breath. He had come close to getting burned that day, his mind wandering elsewhere and the flames getting too close for comfort. Thankfully, he had managed to step aside, the ugly dragon's breath only serving to soak him in sweat at the smell of rotten meat. He was in a poor state to meet his parents, and yet he found himself looking forward to the moment.
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took the winding path from the eastern enclosures and up towards the central observation deck. One of the other tamers passed him by with a quick nod but neither stopped for conversation. Charlie instead listened to his own boots crunch against the gravel as he drowned out the sounds of screeching and snoring that came from the dragon pits. He felt a small surge of danger on the edge of his consciousness, the hairs on his arms standing and his heart beating a little faster than it ought to have been. He swallowed.
He had nearly been burned, and yet it was his parents who were making him nervous. He almost laughed out loud. He wanted to see them, of course, he looked forward to it, and he looked forward to showing the dragons to Ginny. But he was also worried that something else would happen. That maybe, he frowned, his mother hadn't gotten over what had happened during the summer. Maybe she had come all the way to Romania just to yell at him.
And, of course, Percy had written to him at the start of the year telling him all about how his parents had basically disowned Ron. It sent a quick wave of hot anger through his veins, Charlie could hardly believe them. He knew he would have to bring up the subject, he was too curious and headstrong to avoid it, and yet he was nervous too. He didn't want to be put onto whatever list Ron had gotten himself on, but he wanted to protect his younger brother all the same. A younger brother who had, at least the summer before, already been feeling the pressure of being the youngest boy in a cohort of seven. Rightfully, Charlie should have given him more. He regretted not taking Ron into one of the other shops that lined Knockturn Alley, it was all a shit hole, but even a shit hole had things which a boy might need. If his parents had truly disowned Ron then Charlie would be in a strange spot, a spot which he wanted to avoid just as much as he wanted to avoid the fire.
As he neared one of the larger habitats, Charlie slowed to a stop. A large male Welsh Green lay sprawled across a large rock, its scales shimmering in shades of emerald beneath the sun. With a gentle rumble that reverberated through the ground, the creature snored, its massive chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that seemed to calm the very air around it. Charlie leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the creature.
He had always thought that Dragons were rather simple. They didn't hold grudges like humans, they fought and killed each other only to act as if nothing had happened a moment later. When a dragon was angry, it roared. When it was content, it basked in the sunlight like the massive Welsh Green. Or so he originally thought, and perhaps it was that thought that led him to be a dragon tamer in the first place. It seemed like so long ago that he had made that decision. He knew now that there was some nuance to a dragon's emotions, the way its tail flicked or the inclination of its massive ears. And yet, he loved them all the same, huge magnificent beasts. And perhaps, his family was like that. They could kill each other one minute and then find peace the , I hope things are better.
He let out a long breath, his fingers gripping the railing tightly. The Welsh Green stirred, one golden eye cracking open to regard him lazily.
"Don't look at me like that," Charlie muttered. "You've got it easy. You don't have to worry about family drama or whether your mum's going to start yelling about something you did months ago."
The dragon snorted softly, a puff of smoke curling into the crisp morning air before it closed its eyes again.
Turning away, Charlie continued down the path, the knot in his stomach tightening and then relaxing with each passing step and each passing thought. But behind it all, he was still glad that he would see his parents. No matter what, he loved them.
Charlie stepped onto the observation deck, his boots scuffing against the smooth-laid stone. The platform stretched wide with thick fence-framed edges and enchanted glass inlays which allowed visitors to get magnified views of the dragons. A small layer of snow had settled on the surface creating mushy clumps of grey.
The Welsh Green that Charlie had been watching finally stirred from its nap, its bright wings stretching out over its head as it moved closer to the edge of its enclosure. Charlie found himself watching again, searching the beast's face and looking at the twitches of its muscle. The dragon, lazy and fairly sociable for a dragon, sighed gently.
"Charlie!"
A voice pulled Charlie away from the dragon and back towards the platform. His eyes landed on a flash of flowing red hair and a familiar face. Ginny ran towards him, the smile on her face breaking away whatever nervousness remained in Charlie's chest. Before he could say anything, she threw her arms around him, nearly sending him backwards due to the slippery snow. Charlie wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her and anchoring them both on the platform.
"It's good to see you," he said softly as his sister grinned up at him.
"It's been so long since summer," she said, "I've missed you. It's so much more lonely without Ron."
A small flash of worry cut through Charlie's mind, but he kept his face straight. "Are you excited to start next year? It's not long now."
Ginny nodded. "Someone has to take your place on the Quidditch team. Fred and George are good, but I'll probably be better."
Charlie snorted and ruffled her hair, breaking their hug. Ginny immediately leaned against the nearby fencing, straining herself over the top of the railing to look out over the dragon enclosures.
"A Green Welsh," Charlie said proudly, "She's a beauty isn't she?"
"Do you ever ride them?"
Charlie couldn't help but laugh. "No, I don't think anybody has ridden a dragon in a long time. Not since the medieval ages anyway: too dangerous. Most dragon riders got themselves burnt or eaten."
"She isn't giving you any trouble, is she?" Charlie heard his father's voice ring out behind him, Charlie's smile only growing wider.
He turned and embraced his parents, the warmth of their bodies driving any chill out of his arms.
"Ginny? She's never any trouble," he said, once again reaching over and ruffling her hair. Ginny shot him an annoyed look.
"Oh, Charlie, It's been too long," his mother added, reaching out and pulling him into yet another hug. A hug which Charlie silently savoured. It meant, at least for the time being, he was avoiding any scolding about buying a wand.
Arthur gestured over Charlie's shoulder to the large looming dragon in the distance. "Quite a site, isn't it? Your brother must work very hard here." He gave Charlie an approving glance. "How about we go get a closer look, Ginny? There's a viewing station a bit down the walkway, isn't there?"
Ginny looked up at Charlie and he just nodded.
His father gave him a slightly knowing look before taking Ginny's hand and leading her off towards the other end of the observation deck where the stairs and path began. Ginny glanced back once, giving her brother a small smile as she went.
Charlie turned back to his mother.I guess I didn't avoid the scolding after all.
"You're looking well," she said softly. "Although, dear, you must really get your haircut. I can't imagine what all of the girls must think of you."
That I'm incredibly sexy?
"I'll get it cut soon," he lied. His parents would go back home before he had to even consider it.
His mother took a long breath. "I asked your father to give us a moment alone…"
Charlie nodded. "I noticed that; he isn't very subtle."
"No, it's a wonder that that man hasn't given away all my secrets," a small thin smile formed on her lips. "Charlie, I wanted to say that I'm sorry… about how we left things at the end of summer."
A glacier inside of him suddenly cracked into pieces and started melting. A sudden sense of vindication and relief spread warmly throughout his skin. "I'm sorry too," he offered. "I shouldn't have taken Ron and Percy to Knockturn without your permission."
"I wouldn't have granted it," Molly said. "I mean, honestly, Charlie, Knockturn Alley? There isn't a worse place in Britain."
Oh, there definitely are.
"Yeah, but I couldn't afford a wand at Ollivander's," he said slowly.
His mother sighed. "You were right to get him a wand. Your father and I should have done that, maybe things would have gone a little differently this year. Your brother is… well, he's a Slytherin, I'm sure you've heard?"
"Percy told me," Charlie answered diplomatically.
"I'm sure he's told you more than that," Molly frowned. "More about what's been going on, and well, I've spoken to Albus Dumbledore about it. I think I was wrong, Charlie. Somehow I think my sons are beginning to outgrow me, and it's a lot for a mother to deal with. I've set things right with your brother, and I won't push him any further on being a Slytherin. Stupid boy, he nearly got himself killed just two months ago."
"Nearly killed?" Charlie raised an eyebrow. A small part of him burned fiercely wanting to both hug Ron and slap him.
"Killed a troll," his mother shook her head. "My poor son had to murder such a horrible creature."
A troll!? Merlin, Ron!The fire in Charlie's chest was suddenly replaced with a mixture of pride and confusion.
"It's been a hard year, and I don't expect you to understand the way that me and your father have felt. But I wanted to set things right with you, with you all the way out here in Romania it hasn't been easy to not hear from you for so long."
Charlie nodded, he had missed writing to his mother. It was something they usually did every few weeks but the process had been strained by their fight at the end of summer. "I miss it too," he said gently.
"So you'll forgive us? For the fight we had?" she asked.
He nodded. "I was just doing what I had to, as a big brother. It's hard, you know, to live with so many siblings. I'm only the second oldest and I know what it's like. I can't imagine how Ron feels. I don't think it's me you need to apologize to, it's him. You shouldn't put him last just because he's the youngest son."
Molly frowned. "We didn't try to put your brother last, there was nothing wrong with your old wand."
"It wasn't his," Charlie sighed. "You know that the wand chooses the wizard, you've been to Olivander's a number of times."
"Yes, we made a mistake…" she said softly. "I'm sorry."
Charlie nodded, "like I said, I'm not the one you have to apologize to."
A small smile caught on the edge of her lips, "I'm glad we're here."