A Week at Dragon Park

Dragon Park

Tuesday

"And then, Uncle Harry came flying back into the stadium. He steered his broom down toward the golden egg, and snatched it right up."

"And he won?"

"Sure did. It was incredible."

"Is Uncle Harry the greatest wizard in the world?"

"Nope."

"Who is?"

"Your Uncle Charlie."

That made the girls giggle. I'm good at getting my nieces and nephews to laugh. Not as good as the twins, but I have a career working with fire breathing reptiles, they deal with jokes.

"No, you're the silliest wizard in the world, Uncle Charlie!"

"But I think Uncle Harry is still the greatest."

"Humph." I reached up and plucked the feistiest of all my nieces off my shoulders. "I guess you'll have to ask Uncle Harry for a piggy back ride then. What do you think about that?"

Charlotte Weasley grinned up at me. "I think you're jealous of Uncle Harry!"

"Yeah," her oldest sister chimed in, "you just wish you'd been in the TriWizard Cup so you could fight the dragon!" Audrey really was too bright for her own good.

"And you're just like your mother, you little know-it-all," I teased. I was rewarded with a quick hug around my waist.

"Thanks, Uncle Charlie," said the nine-year-old.

"Audrey, he called you a know-it-all," six-year-old Emily piped up. "It wasn't a compliment."

"Oh, but it was." I tugged on Emily' bright red pigtail. "Your mum was, and still is, the brightest witch of her age."

I wasn't lying either. Hermione Weasley was beyond bright. Her only downfall was falling for my youngest brother. Ron is a good guy and all, but I like to think I would've been a good catch myself. That's right. I'd been attracted to my sister-in-law, before she was my sister-in-law of course. I kinda like brainy women. Non-redheaded brainy women.

"Are we there yet?" Audrey asked. "I want to see the Godric Glumbumble."

"Right around the corner." I followed the girls as they began to run.

"There it is!" Emily and Charlotte each grabbed one of Audrey's hands and pulled her through the park gate. The three made a beeline for the big dragon-like play structure in the middle of the garden.

Jogging after the freckled kids I scanned the park. There she was. Sarah. A simple, pretty name for a simple, pretty girl.

Well, I can't really say she's simple. I hardly know her, but I know she is pretty, and she's not a redhead either. Her hair is a deep brown colour. It's tied back today, hanging softly just past the nape of her neck. She isn't tall, but neither am I. Her blue eyes are startling, not just because they're beautiful, but also because they hold a deep sadness.

I waved.

She waved back.

"Hi," she called out to me. Non-redheaded, and a great smile. Don't screw it up, Weasley. "An extra niece this time?"

"Well, I do have a lot of them!" Smooth, scare her off with dozens of kids.

"Hi Sarah!" Emily called out as she ran over with her sisters trailing behind her. "You look nice."

So Audrey isn't my only smart niece, I laughed to myself.

"Thanks, Charlotte."

"Emily."

"Sorry, Emily." Sarah blushed a little. She was even prettier when she blushed. I hoped I could make her blush too. "Hi Charlotte. And hello..."

"Audrey. Audrey Weasley. How do you do?"

Sarah smiled at my bright, though somewhat formal niece, and shook her hand. "I'm well thank you. My name is Sarah Pritchard."

"I know. Emily and Charlotte told me all about you yesterday."

"Did they?" she looked up at me, surprised. "And what did they tell you?"

"Well," Audrey began, "they said you're pretty, which is true. They said you were really nice," Audrey smirked slyly up at me, "and they said you made Uncle Charlie smile the whole way home."

Sarah laughed. I blushed. I really like her laugh. I'm not so fond of my blush.

"Audrey," I tried not to stammer, "why don't you take your sisters back to play on the Godric Glumbumble?"

"You mean, Audrey, take your little sisters away so I can flirt with Sarah right?" Charlotte whispered to me, lowering her voice a bit as she tried to imitate me. I looked down at her and she beamed up at me, her brown eyes full of mischief. Honestly, she and Emily were worse than Fred and George sometimes.

"How do you know what flirting is, my dear five year old niece?" I whispered back.

"I'll be six next month," was all the reply she gave me.

"Come on, Charlotte, you promised." Audrey grabbed Charlotte's arm and pulled her away. "Emily, you too."

"Okay," Emily began to follow, smirking back at me. "Good luck, Uncle Charlie."

Can't Ron control these girls? "Uh, thanks, Emily."

I shook my head as I turned back to Sarah.

"Sorry." I grinned wryly and shrugged.

She gestured to the bench and I sat. She sat down, but not as close to me as I would have liked.

"Are you really going to flirt with me?"

"Yeah." I scooted a little closer. "That okay with you?"

"Do I have to flirt back?" Sarah leaned toward me. She smelled nice, sort of citrus-y.

"If you want." I sucked in a breath and cringed. Did I really say that? Was I really this bad at talking to women? No wonder I'm thirty-nine and single.

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, I'll flirt back." She smiled again. My heart started to race a bit.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Okay, so I need to work on my flirting a bit. I don't usually flirt. I work with dragons. Most women I'm around know that. They tell me it's sexy. How huge stacks of dung and sweating from the heat of dragon breath is sexy, I'll never know. But it's always worked in the past. Of course, all the women I've known before have been witches. Now I'm trying to flirt with someone who doesn't even know dragons exist, and I'm not really sure what to do.

The silence is broken as the girls come running back.

"Can we have the picnic basket, Uncle Charlie?"

"Sure. Just sit down nicely while you eat, okay?"

"Okay, Uncle Flirt."

"Emily..." I trailed, giving her a Look, and briefly considered a wandless Silencio. She just giggled and ran behind Audrey who was carrying the food. I'd have to have a talk with Ron about the kids. Was Emily six or sixteen? "I guess she doesn't realise how bad I am at flirting, huh?"

"Well, I'm not much better." Sarah looked up at me. "This could get ugly."

Ugly? I don't wan this to get ugly. Think, Weasley. You weren't a brilliant Quidditch Captain for nothing. Of course, I can't talk about Quidditch now. Or dragons. Or, well, anything in my world. Not just yet. Bugger!

Ah-ha! I've got it. The Perfect Pickup Line.

"So, come here often?"

On second thought, maybe it wasn't the perfect line. At the very least, it certainly wasn't original.

"Every day for lunch actually," Sarah laughed. "Are you going to yawn and put your arm around me too?"

"Do you want me to?" Please want me to. Please.

"Yeah." Yes!

"Well, alright then." I cleared my throat and tried to stop my hands from shaking. "Gosh, all this baby sitting is wearing me out." I hope my sleepy voice sounds sleepy to her. To me it sounds like I swallowed a Cornish Pixie. Not sexy, no matter how many dragons I've worked with. I yawned as big as I could, hoping it didn't look as awkward as it felt. As I did, I stretched my left arm out and up, and swiftly brought it down on the back of the bench behind Sarah. "Ah. That's much better." I felt as though I'd earned Emily's title of silliest wizard in the world, and held my breath a bit. Relief came when she giggled.

She giggled! I made her giggle again! This wasn't so bad after all. Maybe there's hope for Uncle Flirt after all.

"Very smooth." Sarah laughed.

"Thank you." The breeze tickled my arm, sending goosebumps all the way up to the back of my neck. I looked over at the beautiful woman beside me. Yup, definitely beautiful, not just pretty. Her mouth was still smiling, her eyes were still sparkling. But there was still something buried, and I was overwhelmed with a feeling of wanting to know more about her.

"Well, now that we have the cheesy flirting out of the way," I let a few fingers drop down to gently touch her shoulder, "tell me more about yourself, Sarah."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"There's not much to tell really."

But I knew there was plenty to tell. I hoped she trusted me enough to share that with me. After all, I'm practically a stranger to her right now. A stranger with a bunch of freckled faced nieces following him around. I took a deep breath.

"How about telling me why you ran away as a teenager?"

The pretense of flirting was gone now. The scene had taken a very serious tone.

She paused and looked right at me. It felt like her eyes were boring a hole directly into my mind. It should have been creepy, but it wasn't. I hoped that whatever she could see made her trust me. Somehow in that moment, without saying anything, I'd convinced her to open up to me.

"Things really changed at home after my mom died. I tried really hard to remember her, try to keep something about her around, you know? I don't remember much now though."

"How old were you when she died?"

"Five."

"Then you can remember enough." I moved my free hand over to take one of hers. "What do you remember about her?"

"The way she smelled mostly. She always wore the same perfume. Gardenia Dream it was called. And I remember the way she smiled. The way she would tuck me into bed. She used to sit on my bed and brush my hair until I was asleep. And then one day, she was gone."

"What happened?"

"My father said it was an accident. A car crash. But I think she did it on purpose."

"Suicide?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"But why?"

Sarah looked down at our hands. "To get away from him. He was awful to her. My father I mean. The yelling. The hitting. Then once Mum was gone, he turned to me."

"Turned to you?"

"Yeah. It was terrible. My childhood ended when she died. But I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to stop it. When I was fifteen, I ran away. After that, I did a lot of things I'm not proud of. I spent years sleeping on couches and beds all over the place, running from boyfriend to boyfriend, trying to find someone to love me." She kept her gaze on our hands. Her thumb was running back and forth over my knuckles. "I know it's silly, but sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if my mum had lived. If we'd run away together.

"I'm so sorry." I wasn't sure what to say, but that seemed somewhat appropriate.

"Thanks." Her thumb was rubbing my knuckles roughly now, as though she were trying to pour her feelings into me without talking.

"So, how'd you end up working at the Zoo?"

"Well, when I was nineteen, I met Phillip. He sort of saved me. He got me a small flat. Got me away from the people who called themselves my friends, but who only brought me further down. He cleaned me up, you know. Found me a job at the Zoo. He loved me really. Without demanding anything from me. And one day, I loved him back," she said as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. I dropped her hand and brushed the tear away. "We were going to be married."

"Were?"

"Were." Sarah sighed and looked across the park. "He was killed. The collapse of the Brockdale Bridge back in 1996. He'd been driving across it. Driving to see me."

The bridge? Brockdale Bridge. Voldemort's Death Eaters. A chill ran down my spine, and my heart broke again for the pain the War had caused. She looked vulnerable as she finished her story. I wanted to gather her together and hold her tight.

"I remember the collapse. I'm so sorry, Sarah." Sorry my world didn't leave yours alone. Sorry the man you loved was killed. Sorry I know so well the pain you felt, and still feel. I wanted to tell her just how much I remembered, but it was too soon.

"Yeah," she took a deep breath and looked back at me, "thanks."

Her blue eyes were brimming with tears. I squeezed her shoulder with the hand that still rested just behind her. I let my hand linger near her neck. She tipped her head to lean against me. It felt nice, like my feeble attempt to comfort her was helping.

"I guess you're the better flirt." Sarah dropped the sharing tone and grinned wryly. "I sure spoiled the mood, didn't I?"

"Not at all," I told her honestly, "thank you for sharing that with me. I'm glad you felt you could trust me."

"Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I haven't really had many people to confide in at all lately." She looked me dead in the eye. My heart rate jumped. "It's been hard. These past, what, sixteen years. Wow, has it really been that long?" she asked herself. "I guess so." She shook her head, making her hair tickle me gently. "I think it's about time I had a friend again."

"And do I get to be that friend?"

"If you don't mind." Sarah smiled hopefully at me.

"Not at all."

We sent the rest of her lunch hour sitting there, just like that. She was cuddled against me, my arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and my thumb rubbed soft circles on her neck. The girls had their lunch, and played on the Godric Glumbumble. Sarah and I reminisced quietly. I assume she thought about her lost fiancé. I thought about all those we'd lost to the war, silently adding the name Philip to the list. By the time we agreed to meet again the following day and I made it back to Ron and Hermione's with the girls, I realized I hadn't eaten anything for lunch at all. Despite that I wasn't hungry.

That night after helping Ron tuck the girls in, reading three stories, singing two songs, and reading another story, he and I each nursed a Firewhisky on the couch. I told him I met someone. Without saying anything, he clinked his glass against mine, grinned slyly, and nodded goodnight. As I slept, I dreamt of sleek brown hair, blue eyes swimming with hope, and a beautiful girl crossing a bridge.