Harry Potter: The Angel of Death C45 (Patreon)

Chapter 45: Charlie Weasley is the man

Harry arrived at the Burrow shortly after supper. It was a bit late, and he hoped the Weasleys wouldn’t mind the unexpected visit. The front door stood open, so he stepped inside and found Mrs. Weasley seated at the kitchen table, reading a magazine. He knocked lightly on the doorframe.

Mrs. Weasley looked up with a warm smile.

"Harry, dear! I didn’t expect you—come in! Have you had supper already? I can warm something up—"

"I’ve already eaten, Mrs. Weasley." Harry stepped further inside.

"Are you sure? Wouldn’t you like some pie at least? And some tea?"

"I’m fine, thank you." Harry smiled. "I hope I’m not being a bother—"

"Of course not, dear—why would you think that?" Molly shook her head. "We’re always happy to have you here."

Harry’s smile grew wider.

"Is Charlie around?"

"He is." She nodded. "Making the most of his break before he has to head back to Romania. He’s upstairs."

"Thanks."

Harry made his way through the Burrow, climbed the stairs, and stopped outside Charlie's room. 

He knocked.

"Come in!"

Harry pushed the door open.

Charlie's room was just as cluttered as Harry had anticipated. Dragon posters covered every wall, a few bookcases overflowed with volumes, and more dragon photographs were scattered across the desk by the bed. Charlie himself sat perched on the edge of his bed, absorbed in what appeared to be a field journal.

"Harry?" Charlie looked surprised. "Didn't expect to see you. Everything alright?"

"Actually, I came because I need your opinion on something."

That caught Charlie’s attention, and he set the journal aside, gesturing for him to sit.

"My opinion?"

Harry nodded and sat down in the only chair not buried beneath books.

"On reptiles."

Charlie blinked.

"Reptiles?"

"Very large reptiles."

The dragon handler leaned forward.

"You have my attention."

"Do you know what dinosaurs are?" 

"Never heard of them." 

Harry couldn't help smiling as he reached into his bag and withdrew several photographs. Charlie took the first photograph, glanced at it, then froze.

"What?"

He grabbed a second photograph, then a third and a fourth.

"Harry." He said with his gaze fixed on the dinosaurs. "What exactly am I looking at?"

Harry grinned, he knew Charlie would love dinosaurs; the boy—well, man—had always loved reptiles, the bigger the better.

"Dinosaurs."

Charlie looked up, his expression shifted into the exact look Harry had seen on children staring at the newest broom through the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. 

"Dinosaurs." He repeated, his gaze returned to the photos; in them, a Tyrannosaurus Rex was walking across an open plain, a herd of Triceratops was grazing near a lake, several Brachiosaurus were towering above the jungle canopy... 

"Tell me more."

For the next several hours, Harry did just that. 

He went over what dinosaurs were, how they had gone extinct, how they had been brought back, the science behind it, and the failed attempt to build a dinosaur amusement park. Charlie had questions—plenty of them—interrupting Harry every few minutes. Some were easy to answer, while others left Harry at a loss.

How large were the populations? What were their feeding habits? How intelligent were they? Could they reproduce naturally? Had anyone studied their social structures? What diseases affected them? How did they interact with one another? What happened when they encountered predators?

With each new question, Harry grew more certain that Charlie Weasley was exactly the right person for this and that he had made the right choice in seeking his advice.

Charlie was practically vibrating with excitement.

"This is incredible." He looked down at another photograph of a herd of Parasaurolophus. "No. Forget incredible. This is the single greatest accomplishment in human history."

Harry laughed. 

"And here I thought dragons were your one true love."

"Harry, dragons are amazing creatures, but they've been around for ages and we know practically everything about each species. We study them every day. These?" He waved the photograph. "These animals have been extinct for millions of years."

Harry nodded.

"Sixty-five million years, according to Muggle scientists."

"Exactly!" Charlie exclaimed. "Do you realize what this means? The opportunity to study and understand these beauties is priceless."

He began pacing around the room.

"The park itself shouldn't even be a priority."

Harry tilted his head.

"It shouldn't?"

"No." Charlie shook his head immediately. "Not for years."

He sat back down and leaned forward, his excitement only growing.

"The first priority is research." Charlie paced around the room with a jump on his step, barely containing his excitement. "Before anyone even thinks about visitors, the animals need to be studied properly. Their behavior, social structures, feeding habits, reproductive cycles, territorial instincts, preferred environments, stress responses, everything. You can't build safe containment around animals you don't understand, and you definitely can't put tourists near them."

Harry nodded. "That makes sense." That had also been his thought: first, they need to understand the animals. 

"The habitats need to be redesigned, too. Not just cages or paddocks built around what humans want to see. Each species needs an environment suited to its needs." Charlie leaned forward, his voice gaining energy. "The goal shouldn't be a park right now. It should be a controlled sanctuary. Natural enough that the animals can live properly, but artificial enough that researchers can observe them, monitor them, and intervene if necessary."

The more he talked, the more convinced Harry became that Charlie was exactly the person he needed.

"What is the situation on the island now?" Charlie asked.

"All human personnel are being evacuated." Harry leaned back in the chair. "As far as I know, only the animals are staying behind."

For a moment, Charlie stared at him, then a huge grin spread across his face.

"That's perfect!"

"Perfect?"

"Harry, do you realize how often researchers get a chance like this?"  Charlie leaned forward eagerly, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. "An isolated island ecosystem full of prehistoric animals with minimal human interference? That's a dream."

Charlie continued.

"I still have nearly two months before I need to return to Romania." His grin widened. "If you're willing to have me, I'd love to spend those two months on the island."

"You want to live there? Among prehistoric creatures we barely understand and that have already killed several people?"

"Absolutely!"

Harry shook his head in amusement.

"You're insane."

"So I've been told."

Yet the excitement in Charlie's eyes made it obvious his decision had already been made, and by the time Harry left the Burrow that afternoon, the dragon handler was already making lists of equipment he wanted to bring to the island. 

The following day, they met Zarok at Gringotts.

The goblin listened patiently while Charlie outlined his qualifications, experience with dangerous reptiles, animal containment procedures, breeding programs, habitat management, and field research.

By the end of the meeting, even Zarok looked mildly impressed.

"Mr. Potter, it seems you’ve selected a capable individual."

Charlie beamed.

"I should hope so."

After a brief discussion, the goblin finalized the paperwork.

Charlie Weasley would join the project as an independent consultant and field researcher for a period of two months. The contract granted him access to Isla Nublar, its facilities, and all research data, while also compensating him for his work.

When the final signature was placed upon the parchment, Charlie looked happier than Harry had ever seen him.

"You know," Harry said as he carefully folded his copy of the contract, "most people spend their holidays lying on a beach."

Charlie grinned.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Harry snorted.

"Compared to being chased by giant extinct predators?"

***

The final day of August arrived without a single cloud in the sky, and Harry intended to enjoy every minute of it before Hogwarts reclaimed him for another year.

The morning had been spent entirely in Sirius' company.

Introducing Sirius Black to Muggle entertainment had been one of Harry's greatest ideas. The man approached everything with the enthusiasm of a child, and nowhere was that more apparent than when Harry took him to an arcade in London.

Sirius had become ridiculously competitive within minutes, and the battles that followed were short of legendary. 

Harry had beaten him repeatedly at racing games, only for Sirius to become an expert after two hours and begin winning almost every race, but he still sucked at nearly any other game. He had nearly hexed a machine after losing a fighting game, then he claimed someone must have cursed him with bad luck. He also spent an embarrassing amount of money trying to win a stuffed dragon from a claw machine.

He finally managed it, though by then Harry had built up a small pile of stuffed animals from other claw machines, earning him a sour look from Sirius.

"You spent over an hour on that thing." Harry shrugged. 

Sirius muttered something about lucky brats and walked off with the dragon slung over his shoulder.

Harry laughed and followed him.

By the time noon arrived, they had moved on to lunch, settling into a small pizza restaurant not far from the arcade.

Sirius had already forgotten his earlier grievance and was looking at his pizza with sparkling eyes. 

"Still don't understand how Muggles managed this."

Harry looked up from his slice.

"Managed what?"

"This." Sirius gestured dramatically at the pizza. "They don't have magic, but somehow they invented food this good."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"They also invented electricity, airplanes, computers, and spacecraft."

"And yet pizza remains their greatest achievement."

Harry didn’t argue—pizza had its own kind of magic; you could never grow tired of it, and you could put almost anything on it.

The afternoon passed, and for a few hours, Harry was just a kid spending time with his dogfather. Unfortunately, reality was waiting for them when they returned to the Tonks residence.

The moment they stepped through the front door, voices drifted from the sitting room.

"... still think Greengrass has the best chance."

"Perhaps," Andromeda replied. "But never underestimate Malfoy's ability to gather support."

Harry exchanged a glance with Sirius before following the voices.

Andromeda and Edward were seated in the living room, cups of tea resting on the table between them.

"Talking politics?" Sirius asked.

Andromeda sighed.

"When are we not talking politics these days?"

Edward snorted.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"The election for the new Chief Warlock," Andromeda explained. "With Dumbledore stepping down, the Wizengamot has to elect a replacement."

"And the candidates?"

"Lucius Malfoy." Edward began counting on his fingers. "Lord Greengrass. Lady Zabini."

Sirius immediately grimaced and Harry glanced at him. 

"Zabini," Sirius muttered with disdain. 

Andromeda laughed.

"Still holding a grudge?"

Sirius muttered something under his breath, which only made Andromeda laugh even more. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Something happened?"

Before Sirius could answer, Andromeda spoke.

"Nothing dramatic."

Sirius made a doubtful noise.

"Years ago," Andromeda continued, "Iulia Zabini tried to court Sirius."

Harry blinked.

"She tried to marry Sirius?"

"Tried being the important word." Sirius groaned. "Merlin save me from ambitious women."

Andromeda ignored him.

"At the time Sirius was still heir to House Black, and House Black was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Britain."

"She practically stalked me," Sirius muttered.

Edward laughed into his tea, and Harry grinned, finding his misery amusing. 

"What happened?"

"I ran away."

"A wise decision." Edward agreed.

"And after Sirius lost his place as heir," Andromeda continued, "she shifted her attention toward Regulus."

The lightness drained from her voice, her eyes dimming briefly, and Sirius tensed.

"Regulus?" Harry asked, looking between the Black cousins.

Sirius gave him a small genuine smile.

"My little brother," Sirius said. "He told her no." 

"Repeatedly," Andromeda added. "He never liked people playing games."

Her expression softened and filled with several emotions, Harry read nostalgia, regret, and affection among them. 

"He was such a serious child," she said softly. "Too serious sometimes."

Sirius looked away and his smile vanished. 

"He deserved better."

Andromeda and Edward looked at Sirius, and he stood up abruptly. 

"I'm going to wash up." He tried to sound casual, but his voice cracked. Harry watched him leave before looking back toward Andromeda.

The older witch sighed.

"He still blames himself."

"For Regulus?"

She nodded.

"Sirius believes that if he had stayed, if he had endured a little longer, perhaps he could have gotten Regulus away from the family."

Harry frowned.

"He was a kid."

"I know and so does he," Andromeda stared into her tea. "But grief rarely listens to reason."

Her gaze lowered.

"And if we're assigning blame, I have plenty of my own."

Edward reached for her hand.

"Dromeda."

"No." She shook her head. "I was an adult. Sirius was barely more than a child when he ran away."

Her voice had grown lower.

"I spent years focused on my own life. My husband. My daughter." She smiled sadly. "I convinced myself that the younger Blacks would be fine."

Harry stayed quiet and listened. Lately, more and more people seemed to be unloading their problems onto him—maybe he really should pick up a few psychology books. He nearly snorted at the thought but stopped himself. Becoming everyone else's therapist before finding one for himself… That is his life, he guessed. 

"I knew my family supported the Dark Lord," she continued. "I knew what sort of people many of them had become."

Her fingers tightened around her cup.

"And yet I never tried to help Sirius, Cissa, or Regulus. Or any other young relative."

Edward squeezed her hand.

"If you had believed they were truly in danger, you would have."

Andromeda looked at him.

"You don't know that."

"I do." His voice was firm. "You believed they were safe."

He paused.

"Misguided," he admited," and surrounded by terrible influences. But safe."

Andromeda didn't answer.

"None of us expected children to be forced to become soldiers." Edward continued. "We assumed the adults would keep them away from the worst of it."

The bitterness in his voice suggested exactly what he thought of that assumption now.

Before the conversation could grow any heavier, the front door opened, and a moment later, Tonks stumbled into the living room.

Everyone turned towards her. Harry noticed two things: first, she looked exhausted; second, there appeared to be blue paint splattered across her Auror robes.

Without saying a word, she collapsed onto the nearest sofa and lifted her feet, dropping them directly into Harry's lap.

Andromeda's eyes narrowed.

"Nymphadora."

"What?"

"Manners."

Tonks opened one eye.

"Harry doesn't mind."

Both women turned toward Harry and the young wizard felt trapped between the sword and the cliff. He looked at Tonks, then at Andromeda, then back at Tonks. 

Nope! He shouted in his head. He had seen these two fight before and he was not getting in the middle of it. 

"What happened?" He pointed at the paint stains.

Tonks sighed dramatically.

"A riot."

That got everyone's attention, and both her parents straightened up. 

"A riot?" Edward repeated.

"In Liverpool."

Andromeda instantly forgot about the feet and began to fuss over her. 

"Were you hurt?"

"Nah."

Edward was already pulling out his wand, and several diagnostic charms washed over Tonks.

She swatted at him.

"Dad."

"Humor me."

"I'm fine."

The spells finished and Edward visibly relaxed. Sirius returned from upstairs just in time to hear the end of the conversation.

"What happened?"

Tonks groaned.

"People happened."

Sirius sat down.

"Meaning?"

"Some block distributed pamphlets that list every law that doesn't apply to nobles. Every special exemption, reduced sentence, and privilege."

Harry winced, and Tonks continued. 

"Every case where someone important got away with something that would have landed everyone else in Azkaban."

"People weren't happy, I assume" 

"Understatement of the year," Tonks muttered, looking at her dad. 

"How bad is it?" Harry asked.

She laughed.

"Harry, the country's been half a step away from open rebellion for two weeks."

Nobody disputed it; they had all seen it firsthand. The newspapers had been publishing one controversial article after another. Years of corruption were being dragged into the light faster than the Ministry could bury them. Normally, the papers would have tried to bury such stories and side with the nobility, but everything had become far too public after Harry and Sirius’s trials. There was no ignoring or hiding it anymore, so they chose to align themselves with the people. It was the most self-preserving decision—and the most profitable. The papers had made enormous profits over the past month, with several new publications emerging, and Harry had even heard that the owner of the Daily Prophet had purchased a small island somewhere in the Caribbean.

"People are angry." Tonks continued. "At the Ministry. At the Wizengamot. At the nobles. At everyone."

"And rightly so," Sirius muttered.

Tonks nodded.

"Yeah," Her expression brightened slightly. "On the positive side, Fudge is finished."

"That certain?" Edward asked.

"Absolutely." She sounded delighted. "The man's political career is already dead. He will resign any day now."

Harry snorted, his faith on british politicians could not be any lower- he stops his line of thought and hopes the universe does not take that as a challenge. 

"Who will take over after him?"

"Most people expect Amelia Bones."

That drew approving nods from everyone present; among the Ministry’s senior officials, Amelia Bones is widely regarded as the least corrupt. 

"Good," Sirius said.

"Very good." Andromeda agreed.

"If anyone can clean up the Ministry, it's Amelia."

Tonks stretched and let out another exhausted sigh, then she looked toward Harry.

"Enough about politics." She said. "Are you excited?"

"For what?"

Tonks stared at him with a raised eyebrow, looking at him like he was stupid. 

"Harry."

It hit him then—today was the last day of summer, and tomorrow he would begin his third year at Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts," she confirmed. "You start your third year tomorrow."

After everything that had happened this summer, he would be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow. It felt like ages since the summer had begun—so much had taken place over those two months—but now it was over.

And it was time to go back to school.

***

Author's Note: Summer's over—well, Harry's summer is, anyway. Ours is just beginning, and I'm already seriously considering moving to Sweden or Norway. Somewhere far enough north that I can actually sleep without waking up drenched in sweat... assuming I manage to fall asleep in the first place. 

We are in the first part of V3, so it might be late to ask, but what have you thought of Harry’s summer? 

PS: Is anyone else following the World Cup? Who are you rooting for?

As for me, I'm supporting Argentina, Spain, Japan, and Norway. Hopefully at least one of them makes a deep run.