Imagine this:
You have a secret crush on a girl in your class. Once upon a time, you actually got along pretty well, but something happened and now you're not on speaking terms. You've never breathed a word about her to anyone—least of all your parents. Then, out of the blue, your mum makes a big pot of soy-braised pork trotters and casually tells you she's bringing it over to that girl.
How would you feel in that moment?
That's exactly how Charlie felt when he heard his mother utter the name "Pussy."
Honestly, it was like running into Merlin himself in broad daylight—utterly unbelievable!
How in Merlin's name did Mum know about Pussy?!
Beyond the shock and embarrassment of having his secret exposed, Charlie actually felt a rush of relief and joy, so much so that his voice cracked with excitement.
Pussy—the extraordinary girl he'd met while searching for that missing dragon… He'd thought he'd never see her again, yet here was her name, tumbling from his mother's lips.
It was almost too much to take in.
"Why are you making such a fuss, Charlie?" Mrs. Weasley was startled by his outburst and gave him a light, reproachful pat.
"Mum, who exactly is this person you just mentioned?!" Charlie ignored her scolding, pressing urgently for answers.
"Pussy! A lovely young girl. She said she's your neighbor—well, her exact words were that she lives nearby, so I figured she must be, right?" Mrs. Weasley frowned, trying to recall the details.
"You saw her?! She's still around here? …Why haven't I run into her?" Charlie's voice grew softer, tinged with disappointment.
"Of course I saw her! I don't know this area well, so I couldn't have wandered far. I must've met her while out for a walk nearby." Mrs. Weasley thought her son was being a bit ridiculous.
She could also tell something was up with him emotionally.
Then she fixed her second son with a shrewd, appraising look:
"Wait, you and she—"
"No! Absolutely not! Don't even think it!" Charlie shook his head so vigorously it was a wonder it didn't fall off.
Seeing his reaction, Mrs. Weasley's curiosity was instantly piqued—her eyes lit up with the fire of pure gossip.
"Come on, tell me, tell me! What's going on between you two?" she urged, her tone gleefully nosy. Then she turned and called out, "Arthur, get over here—Charlie has something to tell us!"
Charlie's face turned crimson. He wanted to deny it again, but worried he'd only dig himself in deeper.
And truth be told, being misunderstood by his parents—even just a little—actually made him kind of happy, as if there really was something between him and Pussy… even though there wasn't.
His feelings were a tangled mess.
But since his mother had already sniffed out the truth, Charlie decided to just go with it. He stopped protesting and, with a bit of cheek, said, "Tell me first—where did you see Pussy, and what did you talk about? Then I'll tell you the rest."
That's right—her whereabouts were what mattered most to him.
"Alright, alright, I'll tell you," Mrs. Weasley agreed easily, adding, "But you have to keep your promise—after I finish, you have to tell me your part."
"Of course, of course!" Charlie nodded eagerly, urging her to get on with it.
So Mrs. Weasley began her story, starting from after lunch that day.
…
The thing was, Molly Weasley and her husband Arthur had traveled all the way here to visit their son, and they'd already been at the dragon reserve for several days.
The scenery was beautiful—if a little too remote and quiet for their taste.
This wasn't a typical dragon-breeding facility, either; it was mostly for research and support.
To the Weasleys, Charlie's daily work seemed a bit dull, and they didn't really understand much of it.
So, when Charlie went off to tend to the dragons, his parents each found ways to keep busy.
For example, Mr. Weasley had helped fix nearly every table, chair, and cabinet in the house. Today, he'd set his sights on the fireplace—a big project that would keep him occupied for quite a while.
Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, decided to go for a walk after lunch.
She didn't have any particular destination in mind—just kept heading east, careful to remember the boundaries of the dangerous zones Charlie had warned them about.
Gradually, she found herself enchanted by the mountain scenery. Even in the bleakness of winter, there was a certain stark beauty to it.
She didn't know how far she'd walked when she suddenly realized she was at the edge of the safe area.
Being a sensible woman, she decided to turn back.
But just then, she noticed a thin wisp of blue smoke rising from the riverbank nearby—it immediately caught her attention.
Shading her eyes, she stood on tiptoe and peered into the distance. Sure enough, she spotted a figure dressed in red.
"Oh my, there's actually someone out here!"
After being cooped up for days, Mrs. Weasley was delighted.
She hurried over to the riverbank with uncharacteristic speed.
As she drew closer, she realized it was a young girl, dressed rather lightly for the season in a red outfit.
"Hello… er?" Mrs. Weasley began, but her words faltered.
Because she finally noticed what the girl was doing: she was smearing mud all over a large, dead lizard.
Well, it was winter, so lizards would be hibernating—not easy to find, but not impossible either.
But why was she covering a dead lizard with mud?
"Hello!" The girl looked up from her work and replied with solemn politeness.
Immediately, Mrs. Weasley felt she was quite approachable, and all her reservations vanished. She switched into her best friendly-mum mode.
"Hello, I'm Molly—Molly Weasley. I hope I'm not interrupting your, um, work?"
She guessed this might be some kind of local custom, or maybe a way of preserving meat.
"Hello, I'm Pussy," the girl replied, then added, rather pointedly, "Just Pussy will do."
"Very pleased to meet you, Pussy!" Mrs. Weasley said, crouching down beside her.
"I'm happy to meet you too. I once knew another Weasley," the girl said, a faint smile flickering across her lips before vanishing.
"Charlie, you mean? He works at the dragon reserve over there! So you know him—what a coincidence!" Mrs. Weasley was now completely at ease.
"Yes, I know him," the girl nodded.
Since they were "acquaintances," Mrs. Weasley immediately grew more talkative and asked what the girl was doing.
Pussy replied earnestly that this was a delicious way to cook food—wrap the meat in mud, roast it in the fire, and it would taste wonderful.
"But I'm not very good at it yet. I haven't learned properly, and it always comes out wrong," she admitted, looking genuinely troubled.
With all her years of kitchen experience, Mrs. Weasley could only stare, dumbfounded.
"I've never heard of that method, but… I think you might be right about not being very good at preparing ingredients," she said diplomatically, eyeing the lizard—which hadn't even been gutted.
"Mm… it's a bit of a hassle. I don't know how," the girl replied honestly.
"That's alright. If you don't mind, I can help? My way of cooking might be a bit different from your mud-roasting method," Mrs. Weasley offered kindly.
"Alright, you do it!" Pussy thought for half a second, then got up and moved aside.
So Mrs. Weasley pulled a small knife from her bottomless bag of odds and ends and set to work on the poor, hibernating lizard—gutting, skinning, removing tendons, deboning, and finally cutting the meat into neat little pieces.
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