Shadow and Flame

Hatchling

Her clothes arrived just before evening. The sweater and jeans fit well enough. Choppy white waves covered her face as she read.

He watched her, unsure of everything.

He wasn't allowed to keep company long at the cottage. Having her as a work associate would bring more complex questions. But as his bride, she could stay indefinitely.

The thought of proposing she change back certainly tempted him. But as she bit into a cookie, distracted in research, he realized just how lonely he'd been.

A colleague of his, Newton, came bumbling down the path to his cottage the next morning. She was still in his room, sleeping.

"My Weasley! Capital weather!"

"Indeed, sir."

Newton invited himself in, asking if he had any coffee to spare.

"And how was your trip? Mild I gather?"

"Quite." He fidgeted with the pot, hoping the woman would stay put.

"Splendid. See your family did you?"

"No, I didn't have the time." The scraggly man gave a grunt.

"What a shame. I'd suggest you go back, though the fireball's soon to hatch."

She stepped out, yawning and wearing one of his shirts as a night gown.

"Oh, goodness me!" Newton gave a fright. She looked just as unnerved.

"Mr. Newton is an associate of mine." He braced himself for what might follow the declaration. "Sir, this is Guinevere Smith. My fiancé."

The older gentlemen recovered. "Well, that's certainly good news." He eyed her dress uncomfortably. "I'll let you both alone, and see you in the hour. Delighted to meet you, young lady."

Newton let himself out in a hurry.

"I'm sorry." Just a whisper.

"This is why I planned. Go get dressed. We've a busy day ahead of us."

She headed back for the room, pausing at the doorway.

"You know, that was rather unfair." She tucked a strand behind her ear. "Considering I refused you last night."

-

They hiked up a good way north, and she noted the chill in the air.

"Guinevere Smith. Guinevere Smith." She stumbled along the path, and Charlie caught her.

"Take my hand." She reluctantly wrapped hers in his. Palms so calloused and rugged pulled her along. She feared more human interaction as they stepped into an open tent. That Mr. Newton was there, along with another fellow.

"So, I see you brought the lady then. Capital!" After initial introductions, the other man named Harold motioned her to their point of interest.

A red egg with flecks of gold scattered across it sat upright on a sterile table.

"Beautiful is it not, missy?"

"Shouldn't this be in a nest?" The men laughed at her.

"Why of course it would be, if it weren't for the mom challenging a Ridgeback. She died last week, leaving the wee one to us."

She reached instinctively for the egg. It was much smaller than she'd have imagined it to be. The shell began to move and she flinched into Charlie.

"It's alright." He whispered in her ear. "It's already hatching."

The little dragon was out in seconds, struggling to move it's little body around. Slightly bigger than a lizard, she seemed most intrigued with Eden.

"Here." Charlie placed the miniature dragon in her open hands. "Not so dangerous."

She couldn't tell who he was referring to, the infant or her. The little dragon nuzzled her thumb, curling into a cozy ball.

"What will happen to her?"

"She'll stay in our care until she's old enough to defend herself." She wished to take the little one with them, but then they told her how safe it was. Protection spells to ensure she couldn't leave and nothing could get to her. They called this spot the nursery, though dragon's eggs were rare to come by.

Heading back to the cottage, she felt the hair on her arms stand on end.

"Charlie, what's that..." He covered her mouth, ducking themselves behind a bush. Just then, a mass flew over them with a shout. She brushed his hand away when they were in the clear.

"Why couldn't you have been a herbologist?"

He flashed a smile, eyes set on the skies. "What can I say? I've always had a thing for dragons."