Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

Hermione blinked in surprise. Charlie Weasley, broad-shouldered and handsome in a neatly cut black dinner jacket, was coming down the stairs with an unfamiliar young woman on his arm: a black-haired beauty in a scarlet dress, who hugged his side so tightly that he almost seemed to be wearing her like a bracelet. No sooner had they reached the foot of the stairs than the girl had planted a kiss on Charlieś cheek, and disappeared into the crowd.

"Who was that, older brother?" George demanded as Charlie ambled over to them, eyebrows raised. "She was really — "

Jana elbowed him in the ribs.

"..Not somebody I´ve ever seen before," George finished somewhat lamely.

"No more so have I," said Charlie with a shrug. "She grabbed me at the top of the stairs and begged me to walk her down. Anyway, I was afraid if I didn´t, I´d end up walking down with Snape. He was standing just behind us and he didn´t have a partner either."

"She probably didn´t have an invitation," said Hermione, looking after the girl, but unable to locate her in the crowd.

"She said she was a Malfoy," said Charlie. "She looks like a Malfoy."

"Doesn´t mean sheś invited," said Hermione, who knew how convoluted and expansive the Malfoy family connections were.

"Itś done now," said Charlie in a tone that indicated that this line of conversation held little interest for him. He turned away from Hermione, towards Harry, and said something quietly to him. Harry nodded, looking surprised, then leaned over to Hermione and kissed her a bit clumsily on the ear, "I´ve got to talk to Charlie. I´ll be right back."

Hermione nodded, and glanced after him as he followed Charlie a little ways away. She saw with a jolt of shock at the base of her stomach that Harry and Charlieś heads were on the same level now. Harry was as tall as Charlie? When had that happened? A faint cold feeling began in her stomach. Some part of her wanted to think of herself and Harry as children, wanted to keep him as a child, as if that would keep him safe, safe from the forces that had taken Harryś fatherś life when he was only five years older than Harry was now.

Her eyes slid past Harry to Ron, entwined on the dance floor with Fleurś part-veela cousin. Oh dear. She looked hastily back at the twins, both of whom were staring back at the grand staircase with peculiar expressions. So, for that matter, were Angelina and Jana.

Hermione followed their gazes just as Anton bellowed out:

"Virginia Weasley and Draco Malfoy!"

"I´m glad you decided to come to the party, Charlie."

Harry held out his hand for Charlie to shake, and Charlie took it. It was a very, almost oddly, adult gesture on Harryś part, and Charlie felt something smart at the back of his eyes as he looked at the boy in front of him. He remembered the first time he had seen Harry —

small, pale, and almost lost in his black robes, staring anxiously at a pen full of dragons with Hagrid at his side. Charlie remembered thinking how brave a little kid he seemed, how stubborn, and how brightly his green eyes burned behind his glasses. He could almost forgive him for the way Professor McGonagall had famously evaluated Harry's capabilities upon first seeing him fly: Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it!

Hmmph. Well, what did she know?

Charlie gave Harryś hand a firm shake, and released it. "Happy Birthday, Harry," he said.

Harry smiled. "Thanks." He looked collected, relaxed and handsome, the dark green of his sweater bringing out the color in his eyes.

"I almost didn´t come." Charlie reached into his pocket. "But I wanted to give you your birthday gift."

Harry looked surprised. "Hey, Charlie, you didn't have to — I mean, after everything you've done for us — I don´t know how much dragon-keeping pays, but — "

"Hang on there, Harry. I didn't exactly spend much money on it. In fact, I didn't spend any money on it. It's a bit of an odd story, but I had to…have you got a moment?"

Harry nodded, curious. "Sure."

Charlie took a deep breath, not taking his hand out of his pocket.

"You know how close the dragon camp is, or was, to Slytherinś castle," he said. "Which isn´t surprising, considering that Slytherinś heirs kept dragons, so it was natural there´d be a lot of them in the area. Anyway. I know you were there the night the castle vanished — disappeared without a trace, didn´t it?"

Harry nodded. "Nothing left — just a sort of round, flat, grassy area and a few stones."

"Yes," said Charlie. "Well, about a week after what — what happened to you all, I saw some odd lights in the sky over the forest, so I took a dragon out and went to investigate."

"You rode a dragon to the place where the castle was?"

Charlie nodded.

"And was there something there?"

"There wasn´t something there," said Charlie edgily. "But there was someone there."

Harryś eyebrows rocketed up, and his question came out on an explosion of breath, "Who?"

"I don´t know," said Charlie, a bit miserably. "A man, I think. Tall, wearing a long hooded robe and gloves; he might have had an Obscurus charm over his face, because I couldn't make out his features. He´d been sending up green flares with his wand into the sky, but when I arrived, he stopped and greeted me civilly. Called me 'Dragonrider.´ He asked me if I thought I was a brave man."

"And you said…?"

"I said I tried to be one. So he reached into his robes and he brought out this, and he handed it to me." Charlie drew his hand out of his pocket at last, and with it, the object he had been holding. "He said, 'Dragonrider, take this to the Heir of Gryffindor, the One who Lived.

It will keep him safe when all else fails, when charms and spells prove useless, and his Magid powers have forsaken him. Give it to him, if you value his life.´"

"Bloody Hell," said Harry, and stared at the thing in Charlieś hand.

It was a rough sort of circle, made of a dark scarlet-black material that glowed like ruby syrup shot through with charcoal. It looked like glass, but when Harry took it in his hand he found it was much heavier and denser than glass, and more flexible, like a thin steel cable. It looked well-used — there were scratches all around the rim.

"What the hell is this?"

"No idea," said Charlie, miserable. "And I had a time, I can tell you, trying to decide whether to give it to you or not. I thought it might be something dangerous, something from You-Know-Who. I mean, bloody hooded men popping up in the dead of night, handing things over, then vanishing again. It doesn´t inspire trust. But what he said — I was afraid to take the chance of not giving it to you." He shrugged. "So I decided to make it your choice. You´re old enough, Harry."

Harry looked up at him, his green eyes steady. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Itś not much of a present," said Charlie, with a regretful smile.

"No," said Harry, closing his hand around the scarlet circle, "I meant thanks for trusting me and treating me like an adult."

"Oh," said Charlie, a cold misgiving coalescing in his stomach, "of course, Harry. Of course."

A peculiar feeling began in Hermione's stomach as she watched Draco and Ginny descending the staircase. She couldn't help but notice that they were holding hands. Ginny's face was tipped up to Draco's; Draco was looking straight ahead, but smiling. They both looked gorgeous, beautifully dressed, and as if they had been born to walk down elegant marble staircases in gigantic ancestral homes in front of crowds of admiring people. Which in Draco's case was true, but Ginny —

"Gin looks all right, doesn't she," said George, with older-brother pride in his voice.

Ginny did indeed look all right, Hermione thought. As Hermione had predicted, the deep red color she wore suited Ginny perfectly, bringing out the shimmering highlights in her scarlet hair. The delicate bodice of the dress emphasized her narrow waist and high shoulders. She looked almost fragile, although the sparkle in her eyes recollected the fierce young woman who had ridden a dragon to save Draco and Ron from the top of Slytherin's tower.