"Get the hell out of my way, Wonka!" Draco snapped.
"What? That hurts my feelings. I'm just here to chat."
"I've got nothing to say to you." Malfoy's eyes stayed locked on Harry and the others' retreating backs.
"Alright then. What are you about to do? You look busy."
"What business is that of yours?"
"Am I not allowed to be curious?" Charlie spread his hands.
"What do you actually want?" Malfoy's patience was running out. He glanced sideways—Harry and the others were almost out of sight.
"Fine. Straight to business." Charlie nodded. "Professor Snape wants to see you."
Malfoy shot him a cold look. "If you've got nothing real to say, try again. I don't know why Snape would want to see me. Besides, you were in the greenhouse two seconds ago."
"Didn't think you'd see through me that fast." Charlie raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised.
The way Malfoy treated him like an idiot clearly pissed the Slytherin off.
He drew his wand. "You'd better think very carefully about what you say next."
"Alright, alright. Do you want to visit the hospital wing?" Charlie changed tactics.
"Why the hell would I want to go there?"
Charlie smiled. "Because if you keep trying to mess with Harry and the others, I'm going to put you there myself."
Malfoy's eyebrows drew together. His nostrils flared. "What, did he pay you? You his bodyguard now?"
"None of your business. What you're going to do right now is turn around and walk back to the castle like a good little boy." Charlie's voice had gone flat. The playful tone was gone.
"You're not as stupid as I thought. At least you didn't actually go running to Snape."
"But you're clearly not as smart as you think either. You don't seem to understand what I'm really saying."
"What I'm really saying is: get lost."
"Draco, I remember every little thing you've said about me behind my back. I just haven't bothered to do anything about it yet."
"But I don't think you want me using those comments as an excuse to beat the shit out of you—today, or any day in the future."
Malfoy's knuckles went white around his wand. After a long moment he jerked his arm down, let out a sharp huff, and stalked toward the castle.
Charlie watched him go, then rubbed his forehead and sighed.
Midday.
Charlie reached Hagrid's hut. Harry and the others had already left. Hagrid greeted him with his usual booming enthusiasm and ushered him inside.
The hut was still sweltering. The second Charlie stepped through the door he heard a loud clattering coming from an iron bucket.
Chicken blood was splattered all around it. The whole place reeked of blood and alcohol. Two empty brandy bottles lay on their sides nearby.
Charlie started forward for a better look. Something moved inside the bucket. A ugly little head popped out.
It was a lizard-like head with white nostrils, a bumpy horn on top, and bulging eyes.
"Hiss—"
Those eyes looked more like a small dog with dangerously high intracranial pressure than any dragon Charlie had imagined.
The baby dragon flipped out of the bucket with a crash, spilling what was left of the chicken blood and brandy across the wooden floor.
Its wings grew from its back like a half-folded umbrella, the thin membranes drooping and tangled.
"Isn't he adorable?" Hagrid crouched down with a soft, adoring expression and held his palm out on the floor, trying to scoop the little dragon up.
The dragon stared at Hagrid's fingers for a second, then burped and spat out a few sparks.
The next moment it lunged and bit down hard on Hagrid's index finger.
"Look at that. Such a cheeky little thing."
"Yeah… definitely," Charlie said, nodding. "Hey, Hagrid. Would it be alright if I told my friends Anthony and Hector about this? I think they'd really like to see him."
"I trust them completely. They've kept plenty of my secrets too—though of course that's up to you. They don't know anything yet."
"Oh, Anthony and Hector—your two roommates, right?"
"Yeah. Those two."
"Ah, I remember them. They cheered Harry on during the Quidditch match." Hagrid nodded. "Alright. You can tell just those two. Got it?"
"Thanks for trusting me, Hagrid." Charlie smiled and nodded.
He headed for the door. "I'll go get them right now."
"Be quick about it. And be careful—don't let anyone else notice."
Charlie's mouth curved. He thought about his run-in with Malfoy that morning.
"Don't worry. You can count on me."
He found Anthony and Hector in the Great Hall, still chatting and laughing. He grabbed them both by the arms and hauled them outside before they could protest.
"Charlie, what the hell—" Anthony started.
"Remember that secret I mentioned this morning? I'm taking you to see something worth seeing."
"Oh, that thing?" Hector nodded. "The one you and Harry were talking about?"
"Yeah. It's actually pretty cool. If you two missed it I'd feel bad, because it really is something."
Charlie's only reason for bringing them was simple: they were his friends. That was enough.
A few minutes later the three of them reached Hagrid's hut. Hagrid opened the door, took one look, and quickly waved them inside.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hagrid," Hector said politely.
Anthony, already comfortable, raised a hand. "Afternoon. Did you eat lunch yet—wow, what's that smell?"
The heat, the booze, and the blood hit him all at once.
Then both boys' eyes locked onto the baby dragon.
Hagrid excitedly introduced it. "This is a Norwegian Ridgeback. He just hatched. Isn't he cute?"
He looked at Anthony and Hector with hopeful eyes, clearly waiting for them to agree.
"Oh, right—Hagrid, have you picked a name yet?" Charlie asked.
"Not yet. I've been thinking about it. Can't just give him any old name."
"How about Norbert?" Charlie suggested.
Hagrid played with the little dragon for a moment, thinking it over. Then his face lit up. "That's a great name, Charlie!"
He dropped to his knees and clapped his hands. "Norbert! Norbert, come to Mummy!"
The dragon immediately bit his finger again.
Anthony and Hector exchanged a look. They both quietly decided they didn't need to pet the dragon after all.
Even the most exciting things lose their shock value after ten minutes or so.
They said goodbye to Hagrid and headed back to the castle.
In the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor table, they walked straight into an argument.
"Tsk, tsk. Who would've thought the famous Harry Potter needs someone else to protect him."
"Malfoy, are you looking for trouble again?" Ron shot to his feet.
"Did I say something wrong? I'm just wondering what Harry Potter had to do to make Charlie Wonka his personal bodyguard."
"Must've cost him a fortune, right?"
"Maybe even enough to cover the Weasleys' food bill for a whole year."
Harry frowned. "What exactly are you trying to say? What does this have to do with Charlie?"
"You know exactly what I mean." Malfoy smirked. "But remember this, Potter—Wonka won't be around to babysit you forever."
He was still looking smug when something slammed into the back of his chair.
He pitched forward with a yelp and crashed across the Gryffindor table, one hand landing right in Ron's bowl of soup.
"Who the hell—?" Malfoy twisted around, furious.
"Oh dear. What are you doing, Malfoy? I don't remember giving you permission to polish my shoes with your ass."
Charlie stood there with his left foot raised, casually brushing off the top of his shoe.
He added, with clear disgust, "Disgusting."
"Wonka, do you want to die?" Malfoy's eyes flicked toward the head table.
"You can try," Charlie said quietly, voice cold.
The temperature in Malfoy's glare dropped several degrees. Any thought of running to a teacher vanished.
"You started this, didn't you?" Anthony said cheerfully. "If you get hit, you take it like a man."
"How was I starting anything?"
Anthony snorted. "When have you ever come over to the Gryffindor table without starting shit? You're like a clown that keeps jumping out of the box. Has Harry ever gone over to the Slytherin table to bother you? No. Nobody even thinks about you until you force your way into the conversation."
Malfoy's face turned purple. He glanced at the head table again, but still didn't dare say anything.
Finally he looked at Crabbe and Goyle standing beside him.
One sharp look from Charlie was enough to make both of them freeze.
"Fine. Fine." Malfoy ground the words out. "You just wait, Wonka. One day you'll understand how big the gap really is between us."
"All your little tricks mean nothing compared to the Malfoy family's power."
"Oh, absolutely. If I ever need to beg someone for help in the future, I'll be sure to come crawling to you." Charlie shook his head, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Malfoy's face darkened even more, but he had nothing left to say.
"Let's go." He jerked his head at Crabbe and Goyle and stormed off.
Harry let out a breath once they were gone. Hermione looked at Charlie, confused.
"Charlie, what did you do? Why was Malfoy saying all that?"
"No idea. Maybe it's because I stopped him from bothering you guys earlier."
"Wait, didn't you just kick him?" Ron asked, already spooning more mushroom soup into his mouth.
"Before that," Charlie said, watching Ron eat the soup Malfoy's hand had been in. His eyelid twitched.
"Before what? I don't remember anything." Ron looked genuinely puzzled.
"Don't be stupid," Hermione said. "Charlie already stopped the trouble before it started. Of course you wouldn't know."
"Bingo." Charlie winked at her. "Smart."
Hermione's cheeks went pink. "Charlie, stop treating us like little kids—"
"Aren't you?" Charlie teased.
He waved a hand. "Anyway, enough of that. Let's eat."
"Thanks, Charlie," Harry said seriously.
Charlie just nodded. Subjectively, he hadn't been helping Harry out of any real trouble. To him, Harry and Malfoy's fights were just noisy playground scuffles. He had no reason to step in before, and no reason to make a big deal out of it now.
While he cut into a pork chop, Charlie's mind was already moving ahead.
The baby dragon had hatched. Malfoy still didn't know about it. There wasn't anything urgent left to worry about for a while.
Summer was still a long way off, so no new natural essences to collect yet.
At this pace, he could probably finish the new automatic collector 2.0 in another two weeks.
Tonight he should finally solve that last little design problem—
Or not.
That night the rain came down in sheets, thunder rolling across the sky.
He still didn't know what spring thunder actually did, but spring wouldn't last forever. There wouldn't be many more chances to collect it.
Spending one more night gathering as much as he could was worth it.
Even if it meant the small design issue on his blueprint would have to wait one more day.
In the Slytherin common room, Malfoy lounged on a dark green leather sofa, face blank and cold. He stared at Crabbe and Goyle sitting across from him.
A fish from the Black Lake drifted slowly past the window on the left.
The silence stretched until someone new walked in and broke it.
"I heard you had another run-in with Wonka in the Great Hall at lunch," a tall girl said, stopping beside Malfoy's sofa.
"Ah—" Malfoy looked up. It was Gemma Farley, the fifth-year prefect.
"Yeah, Prefect. That guy's really annoying, isn't he?" Malfoy answered lazily.
"I know," Gemma said, and sat down in the seat across from him.
Crabbe and Goyle immediately stood up and moved aside without being asked.