"Hello, I'm Charlie, Charlie Weasley."
Robert raised an eyebrow as he looked at the familiar red hair in front of him. He hadn't expected that the guide Alistair had arranged for him would be someone he already knew.
"We've met before, in Diagon Alley, remember?" Charlie asked with a friendly smile. He pulled a wand from the buckle 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 clearly," Robert said, glancing at the wand.
Its surface was smooth and clean, without any visible scratches or marks.
"You've kept the wand in excellent condition."
"When I was still in school, I didn't understand how important wands were. I thought they were just tools—it didn't matter what kind you had," Charlie admitted. "But now I know how critical a good wand can be. Sometimes, casting half a second earlier than your opponent is the difference between life and death."
Charlie chuckled. "Besides, I don't want to get another lecture from Mr. Ollivander."
Robert smiled. "My grandfather is usually very kind. He rarely lectures anyone, especially not guests."
"I suppose so," Charlie said with a shrug. "Alright, let's leave that behind us. This is your first time at the Dragon Reserve, right? I'll give you the full tour."
Charlie led Robert into a nearby wooded area. At first glance, Robert had expected it to resemble the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, but upon entering, he realized the trees were merely a visual barrier.
"There's a powerful Muggle-Repelling Charm here, like the one at the Leaky Cauldron," Charlie explained. "If a Muggle somehow stumbles in, they'll immediately see whatever terrifies them most… What was it again at the Leaky Cauldron? Oh right—sudden urgent errands. This one works even better!"
"Do Muggles often end up wandering into the Dragon Reserve?" Robert asked with curiosity.
"Not really. Just once in a while, maybe one or two. We can handle them easily," Charlie replied.
"This way, I want to show you a real beauty. She's from Hogwarts too," Charlie added, his voice tinged with mystery.
The moment Robert heard "Hogwarts," he had a hunch about what—or who—Charlie was referring to.
"Look at that—Norwegian Ridgeback. Isn't she a beauty?" Charlie pointed to a young, greyish-blue dragon perched on a cliff not far ahead. "Hagrid named her Norbert, but we later found out she was female, so we renamed her Norberta."
"By the way, do you know Hagrid? He's the gamekeeper—the one who escorts the first-years across the lake when school begins and ends."
"Of course, I know Hagrid," Robert replied. "We're very close."
"Really? Then you must know Norberta too," Charlie said, beaming.
Robert felt a sharp pang in his chest. No—he had never seen a Norwegian Ridgeback until today, and Hagrid had never mentioned her to him.
"I was shocked when I got my brother's letter," Charlie continued, oblivious to Robert's reaction. "Hagrid actually hatched a dragon egg and raised her! Even veteran dragon handlers don't dare say they can manage that, but Hagrid did."
The more Robert listened, the more he felt a tightening ache in his heart. He quickly changed the subject.
"Is this area specifically for Norwegian Ridgebacks?"
"Not quite," Charlie shook his head. "This is an adaptation zone. New dragons brought into the reserve stay here temporarily while we assess their temperament."
"If a dragon turns out to be overly aggressive or territorial, we separate them from the gentler ones."
"There are dragons that are... gentle?" Robert asked skeptically.
"Relatively gentle," Charlie clarified. "Like the Welsh Green or the Australian Opaleye. As long as you don't provoke them, they usually won't attack."
Charlie went on to share more details about the reserve. Robert nodded occasionally but was visibly distracted, scanning the area.
"If you're looking for more dragons, you might be disappointed," Charlie said. "Not many have arrived recently. Norberta is the only one here right now."
"Under normal circumstances, I could take you deeper into the reserve. But not now—there's a major event going on."
"I know," Robert said. "But aren't there supposed to be dragon blood trees around here?"
"Dragon blood trees?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," Robert nodded. "I've read that wherever dragons dwell, dragon blood trees can usually be found. But I haven't seen a single one."
"Ah, so that's what you're after," Charlie said, understanding at last. "You won't find any in this area. They're all located near the dragon nesting grounds."
"Tell you what—wait here. I'll go make arrangements to take you there."
Charlie hurried off, leaving Robert behind. He returned twenty minutes later, holding two broomsticks.
"Can you ride?" Charlie asked, handing one to Robert. "It's a bit far and we'll need to fly over a mountain. This will save time."
Robert hesitated, then nodded. "I've only flown during school lessons."
"That's good enough," Charlie reassured him. "These are old Silver Arrows. Not fast, but incredibly stable."
As soon as Robert mounted the broom, he felt like he was back in flying class—slow, but safe. Charlie, used to much faster brooms, clearly struggled with the sluggish pace but flew patiently beside him.
Fortunately, the flight only required crossing a single mountain. Once they reached the other side, Charlie landed quickly and pointed to a patch of trees nearby.
"There. Those greyish-brown ones—those are the dragon blood trees you've been looking for."
Robert flew over, excitement bubbling in his chest. But his excitement quickly turned to disappointment when he saw the trees up close. They were completely withered and lifeless.
Dragon blood trees were unique magical plants. They didn't need water, but they required regular exposure to fire—preferably dragon fire—to thrive. When healthy, their bark turned a radiant golden-red and emitted a scent that dragons adored.
These trees were far from golden-red. Robert reached for a branch and, with the slightest pressure, it snapped in half.
They were too far gone. Not only would they be useless for wand-making, but it would even be difficult to transport them without them crumbling apart.
"Are there any more dragon blood trees?" Robert asked, unwilling to give up.
"There are," Charlie said thoughtfully. "But, as you said, they grow near dragon nests..."
He trailed off, casting a meaningful glance toward the broomsticks.
Even if entry to the main reserve weren't restricted right now, he wouldn't risk taking Robert there. Not when one wrong move could provoke a dragon attack—and that's if they were lucky.
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