wings and fangs [charlie]

[ASTRID ALVA ABRAHAMSSON]

March 2026

Astrid personally thought it was a dreadful oversight that school curriculums taught next to nothing useful about dragons. She marched up to the Care of Magical Creatures hut on a blustery March day to change that. She knew that Charlie Weasley, a former expert dragonologist like herself, had taken over the role, and perhaps he would be swayed to include dragons in the curriculum. At the very least, Astrid knew that she would get a fruitful discussion about dragon mating habits, perhaps from a different perspective considering Charlie had been mostly based in the Balkans.

Astrid had hemmed and hawed over taking action on the education of young minds, before ultimately deciding it was worthwhile. The study of dragons was no easy feat, and many people went into it not knowing what to expect, or thinking they would be able to train and ride dragons. They didn't always have the passion required, or the understanding that these majestic beasts were not to be tamed, but more understood. They were not murderous monsters either - they did what they had to do to survive. Dragons were a key part of the magical world, and Astrid wanted new students to understand the weight of their importance.

Stepping up to the hut door, Astrid rapped twice, then stepped back. She had written to Charlie yesterday, but had been too excited to wait for a response. It had been a long time since she had spoken with someone as passionate about dragons as she was. The only thing that had come somewhat close was when she had spoken to that druid, Virvatuli - she could transform into a dragon. Astrid had tried, and probably failed, to hide her jealousy that the young woman had an insiders knowledge, and a bad attitude to boot.

charles septimus weasley

[charles septimus weasley]

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It was far from uncommon for Charlie to receive letters from aspiring dragonologists and magizoologists; he had somehow found himself as a tenured and accredited author on the subject of dragons, the casual publication of his decades of research proving to be one of the largest collections on dragon research known to wizard kind. He’d known for years the distinct lack in books surrounding the subject, and back when he started out the only way to gain any insight on the creatures was to run off to Romania and hope you came back home for Christmas with all of your fingers and limbs still attached. Since then, there had been regulations and proper standards set up around the study of dragons, and with the longevity of dragonologists, it was now becoming quite a realistic career for more than the crazy and dragon obsessed witches and wizards out there. It also helped that the book he had put out was semi-fireproof, making it a viable tool around the grumpier of dragons out there.

The letter he had received via post the day before had been from a young magizoologist who had a multitude of questions about the current curriculum at Hogwarts surrounding dragons and how they were taught. Obviously that was a bit of a contentious subject with the Board of Governors, who ultimately controlled what was being taught within classes. Charlie did enjoy that he could take many more liberties than his professors had back in the day, and so far it seemed like most of his classes had been interesting in engaging. But bringing a dragon in was a completely different thing altogether. He had curated the dragons, along with dozens of other dragonologists, when the Triwizard Tournament had occurred in 1994. Not everyone was happy about that, and he couldn’t very well bring in a dragon on his own just to show off to the school. It didn’t work that way.

Charlie was a few lines into his response to Ms. Abrahamsson when there was a knock on the door to the hut that he called his office. It was funny how Hagrid had lived there for years, its legacy continuing on for the subject the half-giant had loved so much. Standing up from the desk, Charlie crossed the room and popped open the door to see a woman standing there. She definitely wasn’t a student. “Can I help you?” he asked.

ASTRID ALVA ABRAHAMSSON ● 404 ● The Poet and the Pendulum by Nightwish

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[ASTRID ALVA ABRAHAMSSON]

Despite the fact that she had penned a letter to Charlie Weasley only yesterday, Astrid was too excited to wait for a response. It wasn't an emotion she was entirely familiar with, though it was a pleasant one to say the least. She'd booked a place to stay in the village tonight, also to visit the MWRC when she was finished with Weasley. She'd only been to Hogwarts once before, and that was also on work business years ago. It reminded her somewhat of home, the frozen air, the swaying pines, the sprawling grounds. She wondered how much it showed.

Rapping on the door, it took Charlie Weasley only a few moments to answer. Astrid arranged her face into a dispassionate mask, though inevitably it would crack seconds into their discussion. "I'm Astrid Abrahamsson - I wrote yesterday but I was too keen for a response to wait," said Astrid, her cheeks colouring slightly. "I apologise for springing up on you like this but... it's so rare to find other people who care about dragons as much as myself. I've read your books as well, I can just see your respect for them," said Astrid quickly, words slipping over one another in their haste to spill from her lips. "I hope you don't mind... I did just want to have a little chat. Besides the fact that the curriculum has huge holes, I'd love to get your take on Longhorn motherhood rituals."

charles septimus weasley

[charles septimus weasley]

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The woman jumped straight into her introduction, and quickly confirmed that she was the one that had sent the letter only the day before. He didn’t see any harm in being the enthusiastic sort, though he would have preferred being given the chance to respond to her letter and set up an actual appointment time. Charlie wasn’t one to turn anyone away though, especially if it came to learning more about dragons. It helped a bit that the woman, Astrid was her name, started off her ramble with how she enjoyed his books. A lifetime of research and experience had been put into them, so he sort of hoped that his respect for the creatures showed in them. The Dragon Journal was slightly more analytical than his other one, which was A Brief Summary on Dragons, or as he called it, excerpts from when he wasn’t completely crispy from dragon fire.

“I’ve got a class in…” he paused to slide his sleeve back to check his watch, “An hour. So if that’s enough time?” He was interested in what she meant by the curriculum having holes. Was that about what he was teaching (or rather his predecessors)? Or in terms of magizoology? Because they were two very different things, and anything concerning the more niche aspects of dragons basically left one or two experts. So essentially him and Newt Scamander. The latter only because the man had been studying magical creatures far longer than Charlie had been alive, and those decades of experience really came in handy with dragons.

He stepped away from the door to the hut and waved Astrid inside, pulling a second chair away from the wall and setting it in front of his desk before taking a seat again. The two lines he had already started on the response to her were basically useless now, but there were worse things that could have happened than wasting a sheet of parchment. “So Longhorn motherhood rituals, huh?” Charlie repeated back to her, pulling out his own copy of the journal, the same one that had been published for the mass market. He started to thumb through the leather-bound notebook, which contained a number of uneven pages and odds and ends that didn’t look like they truly belonged in it. He’d added to it over the years, to the point where it was basically the bible of dragon research.

“I started in on that research about twenty years ago, you know, when we realized that they were being poached in areas outside of our purview. Did you want more of a description on the violence that can occur during the breeding portion of it? Because everything in my book is what I’ve observed in here.” Charlie tapped the journal with his index finger after finally finding the location of the Longhorn in it. Admittedly he wasn’t the definitive expert on the Longhorn, but that had been part of his work all those years ago. Anything noticed more recently wasn’t going to be directly under his supervision anymore.

ASTRID ALVA ABRAHAMSSON ● 508 ● I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0