Four Weddings and a Dragon - Charlie Weasley

Chapter 14

"All I'm saying is that 'manipulation' is a strong word," Charlie said over his oatmeal.

Hermione pushed her bowl away, the smell of it making her nauseated this morning. She sat back in her chair at the kitchen table, rubbing her abdomen where the baby was making themself felt. "Not with Malfoy, it's not. I'm not afraid of him, but that doesn't mean I trust him not to try to manipulate us. There's a reason they sent us a book on fertility magic instead of the book I asked for. It's such a loaded, emotional matter for them - at least, it is for Astoria. How could they not notice themselves lending out a rare, valuable fertility spell book right when it stands to reason they would need it most? How could they get that wrong?"

Charlie nodded, taking in a deep breath. Hermione was having one of her bad pregnancy mornings and he didn't want her to take on any unnecessary stress - certainly not over the Malfoys.

Especially not after he'd woken up in the middle of the night to find her asleep in a chair, slumped over a huge book, its pages pungent with old, strange magic. Before he'd carried her to bed, he'd read the book's title and let it fall open to the page the previous reader had marked with a black ribbon marker affixed to its binding. Sleepy and bleary-eyed, he hadn't read the entire marked spell, just its name: Gravida Triadum. The name alone sent him shuddering, and now that Hermione was nervous too, he wished he'd taken the time to read it.

All he could offer this morning was an experiment. "Alright, assume it is manipulation for now. What could the reason be for it?"

"Well," she began. "If I was having trouble having a child - "

"Which clearly you are not - "

"Yes," she agreed. "If I was, I think I might want a healthy young father-to-be from one of the country's most reproductively successful families to lend me some expertise."

He raised his eyebrows. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, a laugh in his voice.

She gave him a shove across the table. "Magical expertise, not biological expertise, though you are well-equipped for either."

Charlie rose from the table, clearing the breakfast bowls away. There was no laugh left in his voice as he said, "What if the spells in that book called for a combination of both kinds of expertise?"

Hermione hummed. "I only managed to read through the first section before I nodded off, and it was mostly about tonics for stimulating ovulation. I think you're safe, Weasley."

He turned to face her, leaning backward against the sink where the dishes were washing themselves up. "You're too patient and thorough of a reader, darling. I'm afraid in the latter pages - "

He was cut short, Hermione jumping in her chair as a sound like a rock flying up from a gravel road to crash against a windshield rang through the kitchen. Charlie spun toward the window at his back.

"It's him again," he said, throwing the window open to the same eagle owl who'd nearly shattered their upstairs window over a week before. "Come here, you great ostentatious thing."

"Charlie, don't try to handle him. He isn't nice. He's Malfoy's."

Charlie scoffed. "And I would never hold that against any creature."

As it had with Hermione the last time it came, the owl refused to hold out its leg to politely offer its message. Instead, it stood as if guarding its leg, waiting for Charlie to dare to touch it so it could snap as close to his fingers as it could without actually biting him.

"Trying to intimidate us, are you?" Charlie asked. "That's bad manners, my friend. Who taught you such bad manners, eh? Who did it? How can such a fine owl behave so disgracefully? There's no need for it. No need at all..."