"Hi, I'm Charlie. Charlie Weasley." Google seaʀᴄh 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾·𝗇𝖾𝗍
Harold raised an eyebrow at the familiar red hair in front of him — he hadn't expected Alistair to send someone he already knew as his guide.
"We met before, in Diagon Alley. Remember?" Charlie clearly recognized Harold too. He pulled a wand from the clasp on his sleeve."This is the wand you helped me choose. It's saved me from dragon jaws more times than I can count."
"Of course, I remember very clearly," Harold replied, glancing at the wand.
Its surface was smooth and clean, without any visible scratches or dents.
"You've taken good care of it," Harold said.
"Back at school, I didn't know any better. I thought a wand was just a tool, nothing worth fussing over," Charlie shrugged. "Now I know a good wand can make the difference — sometimes half a second faster on a spell can save your life."
He grinned, "Besides, I didn't want to get another lecture from Mr. Ollivander."
Harold chuckled. "My grandfather's usually very kind. He rarely scolds anyone, especially customers."
"I figured as much," Charlie said, laughing at himself. "Anyway, no more talk about that. This your first time at the Dragon Sanctuary? Let me give you the grand tour."
Charlie led Harold into a patch of forest. Harold had expected it to be like the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, but soon realized the trees were mainly there to block the view.
"That's a large Muggle-Repelling Charm," Charlie explained. "It's just like the one around the Leaky Cauldron — if any Muggles wander in, they see whatever they fear most...Wait, what was the one on the Leaky Cauldron again? Oh right — suddenly remembering some urgent appointment. Much more effective!"
"Do Muggles often stumble into the sanctuary?" Harold asked curiously.
"Not too often. Maybe one or two every so often. We can handle it," Charlie said, waving it off."Come on — I'll show you a beautiful girl. She's from Hogwarts too."
Charlie's voice was full of mystery.And the moment Harold heard "Hogwarts," he had a good guess what Charlie meant.
"Look — a Norwegian Ridgeback," Charlie pointed excitedly to a grayish-blue dragon perched on a cliff. "Hagrid called her Norbert, but we later found out she's female — so now she's Norberta.""By the way, you know Hagrid, right? The groundskeeper? He's the one who takes the first-years across the lake by boat."
"Of course, I know Hagrid," Harold said. "We're good friends."
"Then you must have heard about Norberta too." Charlie beamed.
Harold felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart.No, up until today, he had never seen a Norwegian Ridgeback — and Hagrid had never mentioned it to him either.
"When I got the letter from my little brother, I nearly had a heart attack," Charlie went on, oblivious to Harold's complicated expression."But Hagrid's amazing. Even the most experienced dragon handlers can't guarantee they'll hatch a dragon egg — and he did it. Raised her this big too."
The more Harold listened, the more uncomfortable he felt. Quickly, he changed the subject. "Is this the Norwegian Ridgeback area?"
"Not exactly," Charlie said, shaking his head."This is more like the adjustment zone. All dragons coming into the sanctuary stay here for a while first. We observe them and figure out their temperament.If a dragon's too aggressive, too territorial, we separate them from the calmer ones."
"Dragons can be calm?" Harold asked in disbelief.
"Relatively speaking," Charlie chuckled. "Like the Welsh Green or the Australian Opaleye — as long as you don't provoke them, they generally won't attack."
Charlie continued explaining various interesting things about the sanctuary while Harold nodded absently, all the while scanning his surroundings, looking for something.
"If you're looking for other dragons, you'll be disappointed," Charlie said. "Recently, not many new dragons have been brought in. Norberta's the only one here right now."
"If you'd come another time, I could take you to the real sanctuary — but not now. Big things are happening inside."
"I figured," Harold said. "But... aren't there Dragonblood Trees around here?"
"Yeah." Harold nodded. "I thought wherever there are dragons, there are Dragonblood Trees. But I haven't seen a single one."
"Ah, that's what you're looking for," Charlie said, understanding."You won't find them here. They're near the dragon nesting grounds."
"Tell you what, wait here a bit — I'll take you to see them."
Charlie rushed off, leaving Harold alone. He returned about twenty minutes later, holding two broomsticks.
"Can you fly?" he asked, handing one broom to Harold. "It's a bit far — over a mountain. Flying will save time."
Harold hesitated, then nodded. "I've flown a bit in flying class."
"Good enough," Charlie grinned. "I grabbed two old Silver Arrows. They're slow but stable."
As Charlie said, once Harold mounted the broom, it felt like flying class all over again — safe and steady.Charlie looked a little frustrated with the slow pace, but he tolerated it to guide Harold across the mountain.
Once they got to the other side, Charlie hopped off his broom and pointed."There — those grayish-brown trees. That's the Dragonblood Trees you're after."
Harold eagerly flew over, but quickly realized something disappointing — the trees were dead.
Dragonblood Trees were special magical plants. They didn't need rainwater but required dragonfire to thrive.When healthy, their bark would turn a golden-red and give off a scent that dragons loved.
But these trees weren't golden — they were dry and brittle.Harold snapped a branch with barely any effort; it crumbled in his hand.
At this level of decay, there was no hope of crafting a wand from them — even carrying them back intact would be tricky.
"No other Dragonblood Trees?" Harold asked, unwilling to give up.
"There are," Charlie admitted. "But like you said — they grow near dragon nesting grounds..."
He trailed off, glancing pointedly at the broom under Harold.
Even if outsiders were allowed into the sanctuary, Charlie wouldn't risk leading him there. If a dragon spotted them, escape would be impossible.