Dragon Metaphors

"Wotcher, Harry?" Charlie strode down the stairs two at a time while taking his singed leather gloves off of his hands. "Enjoying the exhibit?"

"Always." Harry had been appreciating the new fossils on display while waiting for the Weasley brother to show up. "I take it you've had a busy season."

"Like you won't believe." Charlie gestured at a photograph of a dig site that was posted on the wall beside framed pictures of dragon scales and teeth. "See that? Been working on that hole for the past few months. Didn't think I'd make it home for Christmas actually. Anyway… How did your work go?"

"Quite well." Harry was pleased with the result of his project. They had finished with two days to spare, thanks to the cooperative Bulgarian Aurors. So he had decided to visit the Romanian sanctuary instead of heading straight back to London. "Fancy a tour?"

Charlie was more than happy to share his passion with anyone willing. Truth be told, not many witches and wizards visited the conservatory during winter months. He was going stir-crazy seeing the same faces all day, every day. Including the dragons. "Norberta's been pretty active lately. How about a walk down to her den?" He knew Harry was one of the few who appreciated dragons as much as he did. "Keep your coat on."

Harry always marveled at Charlie's ability to talk for hours about his precious animals. As he followed the dragonologist down the slushy, dirt path winding around green hills, he was bombarded with stories about each dragon that wandered the sanctuary. Charlie spoke of them as though they were human. Each one had a personality and quirks. The tales he relayed at the Burrow were tame because he didn't want to scare his mother with the gory details. But he knew that Harry would be fascinated by the new scars on his arms. He was proud of them.

"Had to wrestle with a particularly feisty newborn last week," he said as he pointed at a healing scratch half-hidden at his collarbone. "Lives up to his name, Kai. He's a Lion Dragon. Beauty."

"Shouldn't you settle down before you're too hideous?" Harry asked. Charlie barked in amusement.

After a few hours in the hills, the sun started to set. So the men decided to take their conversation to the mess hall where a dinner rush brought down trainers, researchers and grunt workers under one roof. Harry had to actively avoid spilling his beer over himself by sidestepping loud clusters of jovial dragon tamers, something Charlie was quite used to doing after years of work. They found themselves a relatively tame part of the dining area to sit and eat.

"How are things with Ginny?"

Harry nearly choked on the asparagus. "Huh?" he coughed. Charlie never asked stuff like that.

"She is my sister, you know," the Weasley grumbled, miffed by the reaction his question had garnered. "I'm allowed to ask."

"Of course." Harry cleared his throat. "Um, it's… complicated."

"Always seems to be with you."

"I mean, we both travel a lot for work and it's tough." He shifted in his chair. "I really do care for her."

Charlie exhaled heavily. Something was most certainly on his mind. "Weren't you the one who told me to settle down a while ago?"

"Yeah, but I-"

"You're different?"

"… Yeah," Harry hesitated.

"And that's fine," Charlie assured him. "It's not a rule or anything, you know? I mean, Mum expects certain things." He shook his head in defeat at the thought of Molly's 'settle down' speeches. "I know you care about your career. So does Ginny. And you're still young."

Harry couldn't figure out where this conversation was heading.

Charlie chewed on his steak thoughtfully for a moment. "I just… I don't know… I feel like you're spoiling her," he admitted. "Is that strange?"

Harry shook his head slowly.

"It's something like this." Charlie set his fork and knife down. "See, over here," he gestured to one end of the table, "you've got Myra who is this flighty Hungarian Horntail that likes to migrate to the Far East when first frost moves in." He then gestured to the other end of the table. "And then over here is Albin. He's an Antipodean Opaleye. He likes to visit down south on the whim, no rhyme or reason."

"… Okay," Harry frowned.

"The two of them are absolutely fascinated with each other," Charlie continued. "I mean, Albin practically worships the ground Myra walks on. You'd rarely see them separated." He held up a finger. "That is when they return to the sanctuary." He folded his arms against his chest and sat back. "They are different breeds, Harry. Worlds apart, in fact. They like the exotic nature of their relationship, but there is no future. If Myra finds a suitable mate, she won't look back. Don't get caught up in a situation like that."

Harry managed a wry smile. "There aren't a whole lot of people who really know me like she does."

Charlie scoffed. "Tell me about it. You barely have a life outside of work."

"That's not a nice thing to say."

"And I'm saying it."

Harry really couldn't argue with that. He speared some asparagus half-heartedly. He didn't like unsolicited advice, especially not when it made sense.

When he got back to London the day after, the first thing he did was visit his godson. Teddy flung himself at Harry, practically knocking him down. "What did you bring me?" he sang out.

"Spoilt brat," Harry laughed as he squeezed Teddy tight. "Thanks for the lovely letter."

"You're welcome! It was Castiel's idea."

"Oh, I figured."

"He said maybe you'd like a joke. Did you like it? Wasn't it funny?"

"Hilarious," Harry answered sincerely. "You always know how to make me feel better."

Teddy puffed his chest out. "Yeah. I know." He wiggled to get back on the ground. "Presents?"

That night Harry stirred from his dream and cracked open an eye. He wasn't even surprised at the sight of Castiel leaning over him. "Hmm?" he mumbled, letting go of the book resting against his stomach when it was gently tugged away. "I'm fine." He had fallen asleep in the study.

"I know." Castiel set the book aside. "You should go to bed." He pulled Harry up to his feet. "You have work tomorrow, right?"

"I remember." No life outside of work indeed… Bed seemed like a great idea as he brushed past Castiel.

"Harry?"

He paused by the door, glancing over his shoulder. "What?"

Castiel shifted his weight and slid his hands into his pockets. "That is… Would you have felt better if I had written the letter?"

Taken aback by the question, Harry didn't answer for a beat. But Castiel was patient, eyes unblinking as he waited for a response. After some thought, Harry said, "I'm glad Teddy wrote it."

Castiel nodded once in understanding.

But Harry realized that he hadn't understood. "I'm glad, Castiel," he echoed.

"I know."

"I'm glad you keep sticking your nose in my business."

"Oh…"

"Night."

"… Good night, Harry."