The Red Dragon | Charlie Weasley

Chapter 5

Even though the first days of June are warm during the day, the temperature this high up the mountain drops significantly once the sun has set. Dinner had been a festive affair and the food had been incredible. Kadrick agreed to do the dishes with Josué, they could talk about what the Andorran Hit Wizard had gathered thus far, and the others had split up. Most Dragonologists had wandered off to check on the dragons and Phillip had returned to the medical tent.

Haela is sitting at the bonfire as she waits for Charlie to show up. He said he had to grab something from his tent before they could leave. Haela has pulled the arms of her favourite sweater over her hands and stares into the flames, deep in thought.

"I recognise the sweater."

Haela looks up when she hears Charlie's voice. The man smiles at her, flashing his bright white teeth. He's holding a bronze lantern that contains a small flame.

"You played for your house team too?"

"Yeah," Haela answers as she stands up, "I was a Chaser for the Ravenclaw team. You?"

"Seeker," Charlie says as they start walking out of the camp in the direction of the mountains, "Captain, too."

"You were a legend at Hogwarts," Haela suddenly remembers the man. He was four years above her and they never played against each other since Haela joined the Ravenclaw team in her fifth year, but she had certainly heard of him.

"Were you a fan?" Charlie teases and Haela wants to shoot back that she wasn't but as she meets his eyes, she can see the twinkle in them.

"No," she says instead with barely contained humour in her voice, "I only remember you because Gryffindor got absolutely flattened by Slytherin the year after you left."

Charlie gasps and stares at Haela with wide eyes which makes the woman only laugh harder. They slowly make their way around the perimeter, Charlie pointing out the different spots of the sanctuary, before they encounter a broken-down, wooden gesture near the edge of the camp. Charlie reaches for his wand and wants to walk closer, but Haela stops him by grabbing his upper arm.

Ignoring how the muscle underneath the jumper the man is wearing feels in her grip, Haela answers Charlie's questionable look: "What's that?"

"A beacon," Charlie answers.

Unimpressed, Haela raises her eyebrows, and the man quickly adds: "It's used to signal the dragons at night where the camp roughly starts. This one must have broken down recently and nobody has repaired it yet."

With those words, Charlie wants to rip his arm out of Haela's grip, but she refuses to let him go. Even at dusk, with the dim light coming from the lantern Charlie is holding, she can see there is a thin layer of something glossy on the wood. Haela's intuition tells her the situation isn't what it looks like and she has learned over the years that her intuition is right most of the time.

From the back pocket of her jeans, Haela grabs her pair of thick dragon hide gloves and transfigures a small vial out of thin air. She tells Charlie to stay where he is as she carefully sneaks closer to the wooden structure while putting on the gloves.

With two fingers, she swipes over the wood. The glossy substance sticks to the glove and when she rubs it between her index finger and thumb, she notices how sticky it is.

"What is that?"

"I don't know," Haela answers and uses her wand to clean her fingers. Another flick of her wand fills the vial. "I'm going to figure out what it is. Until then, I don't want anyone touching this."

A few quick wards around the broken-down beacon make sure she is informed when someone comes too close and to stop anyone from touching the structure. When she stands back up, Charlie is eying the beacon with distrust.