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There was nothing better than playing Quidditch. Speeding through the air, dodging Bludgers and performing spectacular dives to catch the Golden Snitch to a screaming crowd. As Seeker, he was always the hero of the game and he loved it.
His first match captaining the Gryffindor team in his fifth year was the best moment of his life, and the first thing he was going to do when he graduated, was try out for every single team in the league that had an opening.
The Appleby Arrows would always be his top team, but they had just signed a new Seeker and they already had two reserves, so the dream of playing for them would have to wait. Once he was signed, the next step was to play for England. It was the ultimate honour to captain your country and Charlie Weasley, couldn’t wait to do it.
Seventh year was killing Charlie. He was never brainy like Bill or Percy, and he was scraping through his N.E.W.Ts by the skin of his teeth. All he had was Quidditch. He was predicted an O for Care of Magical Creatures which was no surprise, as it was his favourite subject by far. But, he was just pulling As in most of his other subjects.
Professor McGonagall had threatened to take him off the team if he didn’t get his Transfiguration and Potions grades up, but he knew it would take a complete disaster for her to follow through with that threat. She liked having the Quidditch trophy with Gryffindor’s name on it for too much and knew they wouldn’t have a shot without him.
However, the roar of the crowd had, over the past few months, been drowned out by another type of roar.
Dragons.
One of his friends had been arrested for keeping them over the summer before Charlie started his seventh year, but not before Charlie had got so attached to the little Welsh Greens, he cried when they got taken away. He didn’t even feel that sad about his mate going to Azkaban, because he knew he’d see him again in a few months or so, but the dragons were gone for good.
They were magnificent beasts. Spectacular.
Max Carter had been in Bill’s year at Hogwarts and he didn’t live too far away from the Weasleys. Charlie used to tag along with his older brother when he’d hang out with him as Charlie really fancied Max’s twin sister, Ivy. Not that she ever looked twice at him, as he was two years younger and a foot shorter, mind. Still, a pretty girl was a pretty girl, and Charlie was just happy to be in the same room as one.
Anyway, Max was always in trouble, doing things he shouldn’t and so when he turned up at The Burrow almost shaking with excitement telling Bill he had something cool to show him and he absolutely couldn’t tell anyone about it, Bill grabbed Charlie and they both set off after him.
He took the Weasleys into his garden shed and immediately Charlie knew it was some kind of animal he had to show them. It was about 100 degrees and the windows had been covered up. There was also a deep kind of snoring noise, as though a drunk man had fallen asleep with a really bad cold.
Max moved some boxes and garden toys out of the way and in a large cage, sat two little sleeping dragons.
“Oh, Merlin,” Bill snorted.
“Dragons,” Charlie breathed out. “Dragons.”
Charlie got down on his knees in front of the cage to get a better look. They were both curled up, but looked like they couldn’t be more than 10 inches each, in length. They were a pale green colour, and were breathing out straight puffs of smoke with every breath.
“I’m gonna breed them,” Max announced proudly.
“Breed them? Where are you going to put them? They’ll outgrow this shed in a week, if they don’t burn it down first!” Bill said, incredulously.
“I’ll think of something,” Max replied, happily. “Do you know how much I’ll get for the eggs? I’ll be rolling in galleons.”
“Where did you get them?” Charlie whispered. “They’re beautiful.”
Max scratched the back of his head before looking away. “Er, well, it’s a bit of a funny story.”
“Funny, ha ha, or completely illegal, funny?” Bill said, his voice squeaking a little. The eldest Weasley was looking panicked now as though he thought he would get arrested for just being in the same room as them.
Evidently, Max didn’t want to tell his friends how he’d come to own a pair of the most dangerous creatures known to wizardkind. What was also evident was that he didn’t have a clue what he was going to do with them as they grew, and hadn’t even contemplated how he was going hide them from his parents.
Charlie returned the next day with a pair of fire-proof gloves and his copies of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Dragons Have Feelings Too and How to Train Your Dragon. He carefully opened the cage and picked up the male and resting it in his palm, he brought him up to his face. The dragon eyed him cautiously, paused, then gave a little burp. A small jet of fire came spurting out of the dragon’s nose and singed his hair and possibly an eyebrow. Charlie didn’t care as the dragon was letting him stroke his back.
After just a week, the dragons had outgrown their cage and transpired that Max wasn’t as keen on getting close to them now they were getting bigger. Now, roughly the same size as donkeys, Max would hover at the shed door while Charlie went in and fed and played with them. The singeing hair hadn’t put Charlie off, he was spending more and more time at Max’s place.
“Dad reckons you’ve got yourself a girlfriend,” Bill told him one evening after Charlie had spent the whole day with the dragons - who he’d named Bowman and Gwenog after two Quidditch legends.
Charlie grinned, though he was pretty sure that he’d rather go and visit the dragons the next day than have a snog. Ivy, he might fit in while the dragons were eating, but even then, it would have to be a quick one.
It was in that moment, that he knew his future was dragons. Not illegal smuggling, or attempting to breed them in his garden shed, but a real job. He knew he wasn’t clever enough to get into the Ministry of Magic in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures office, but he wanted to do something.
How did one go about getting paid to look after dragons?
After flattening Slytherin in the second match of the year - Charlie’s final year at Hogwarts - he went to Professor McGonagall with some news. He wasn’t going to play Quidditch professionally and instead, was going to chase his new dream.
“Dragons?” She said, blinking rapidly. “You do realise what you’ll be giving up, don’t you?”
“Yes, Professor,” Charlie replied. “Kettleburn has got me an interview in the Easter holidays with the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. He’s recommending me and thinks I have a good shot!”
Professor McGonagall seemed to be struggling a little with what to say. Charlie was bouncing on the balls of his feet, still holding onto his broom in one hand and the Golden Snitch in the other, with a big grin on his face.
“But, Weasley,” she said, impatiently. “Have you considered dragons as a career for after Quidditch. You are good enough to play professionally, for England, even! You’d have to be mad to give that chance up!”
Apparently, he was mad, because two weeks after he graduated, he was taking an international portkey to Romania where he could spend every day studying dragons. He knew McGonagall would always think he had a screw loose and Max, who’d returned from a stint in Azkaban, couldn’t believe it.
But Charlie was going to work with dragons. Dragons!