Dragon's Core

Chapter Three- The Burden of Domestic Households

Chapter Three

The Burden of Domestic Households

                A kiss.

The shock of Fred’s sudden affections wore away –Corin felt herself drawing back reflexively, as she did Fred’s hand fell from her chin. She sunk down from standing on her toes, her lips parted in shock and she stared up at him. With a single brush of the lips he had side-stepped the barrier she had created.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

She regarded Fred, slowly rebuilding her characteristic atmosphere of nonchalance. Fred stared back at her, watching her face for her reaction. It seemed the kiss had entirely drawn him from the Veela’s capturing song. With surprising ease, Corin removed her hands from his ears.

Visually calm, Corin gestured for him to follow her –he did so with a catlike grin, remaining at her heels in the midst of the crowd. Corin did not trust her voice –afraid if she spoke her trembling voice would reveal her nerves.

                “Oi! Ginny!” Fred exclaimed suddenly, his voice had taken on a mocking-lit. “George, mate –what’d she do? Threaten to tell mum about the firecrackers you have hidden in your stockings?”

George was looking oddly pale, he stood adjacent to Ginny –who possessed a hardy scowl, her arms crossed over her chest in a motherly fashion. “You left me! If it weren’t for Corin I’d be left out there to die of hypothermia!”

Fred’s face creased guiltily –he cast a grateful look to Corin, and opened his mouth to speak-

                                “Fred –George, thank God, Ginny!” a sudden call drew their attention.

Two remarkably tall men- Arthur Weasley and a younger, ginger-haired man –presumably another Weasley brother, ran towards the cluster of teenagers, relief mingling across their faces.

“We’re Percy and Bill? And the others?”

Arthur exchanged a look with his son, “Percy and Bill are with Ron, Harry and Hermione. They’re back at the tent. How are you lot?”

“Bit cold,” Ginny remarked bitterly.

Arthur turned a look to Corin, his face creasing into something similar to a smile. “Seems we’re running into each other alarmingly often.”

Corin’s face softened and she gave a casual shrug. Arthur gestured to the man at his side, who was eyeing her as though he thought her familiar. “This is my son Charlie.”

“Dragon-boy,” Corin remarked, noting the scars and the burns marring his arms. She visibly eyed a long burned located on his forearm, “You ought to see my Papa once you get back to work.” Charlie grinned good-naturedly, eyeing her remarkably fair flesh, “Dweller-girl.”

“Look at that,” Fred gave a wide grin, “you two’ve already got pet names for each other.”

“Technically they’re insults,” Charlie corrected, at his family’s looks of confusion he hastened to explain, “Wizards who live up in the mountain have always had prejudice against the trainers who brought Dragons up into the mountains.”

The edges of Corin’s lips raised a tad, “My family has no problem with the Dragons –“

“It’s dangerous here! Where the hell have you been?” A low growl had cut her off, within the instant two large hands had violently seized her by the shoulders, roughly yanking Corin round to face him. Stefan seethed, muttering vile curses in Romanian; his thick, black brows were furrowed to the point where they left ugly creases across his face, his jaw set and teeth bared. His fingers were digging into her bony shoulders, no doubt leaving bruises.