I Tell Myself It Can't Get Any Weirder Than This [Charlie]

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George heard the shouting before he ever saw what caused it. He was in the back, rummaging around in the storeroom for extra Peruvian Darkness Powder, when the commotion started. He was selling out of the stuff in cases. Ever since his Hogwarts days, he had greatly modified the amount of powder that came in a packet, but it was still one of his most popular items. He also made sure that a background check was done on anyone that tried to purchase the stuff. The last thing he needed was a Hogwarts repeat.

The wizard dropped the box of powder and ran to the front of the store. People were screaming and running around. Young girls were cowering behind shelves. Grown men were standing on top of shelves. All eyes were directed toward the center of the store, where a reptilian creature was tearing into a box of candy. It looked like a small dinosaur, one of those that spit acid or whatever they did. George stood, flabbergasted, watching the creature continue to destroy his merchandise. He looked around at his terrified clientele, then back at the thing on the floor. He knew as well as anyone that it wasn't your common, everyday lizard.

"WHY THE BLOODY HELL IS THERE A DRAGON IN MY STORE?!"

charlie marie weekly

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I t wasn’t often that Charlie had to carry a baby dragon into Diagon Alley. He actually preferred not to, but today was a different story. It needed to be delivered to one of his coworkers to be brought out of the country. Again. This little bugger had already been removed once, but apparently the person that had hatched it found where they dragonologists had taken it and brought it back to London. What an idiot. Charlie always got frustrated beyond belief when non-qualified people tried to keep dragons. They weren’t pets. Sure, he had brought a few smaller ones home from time to time, but he knew how to handle them, and they were always under control. His kids loved them when they were little. His wife didn’t. The box he had the little guy in was sealed shut, a sleeping draught having knocked it out a few hours earlier. He didn’t like having to do that to the creatures, but it was the only way to safely transport them. Even the smallest of baby dragons could wreak havoc on unsuspecting people, and the average witch or wizard was defenseless against them. Charlie still had an hour before he had to meet up with his correspondent, so he decided to take a stop in his brother’s joke shop. It had been a while since he had visited the store, and it couldn’t hurt to talk to George if he was in. Box in hand, Charlies stepped into the store and started browsing the shelves. His brother had a huge variety of different gag items, some of which he recalled the earliest models of from back home in the Burrow. Some of which he had been an early test subject of. Setting the boxed dragon on the ground for a little bit to give his arms a rest, Charlie perused the shelf in front of him, unaware that the box was starting to shake at his feet. A low growl from below alerted him that something wasn’t right, and in a flash, the side of the box was blasted apart and the dragon climbed out. Reaching to pull out his wand, the dragon jumped up at Charlie’s face and let out a blast of smoke. He did his best to dodge it, but most of it hit him square in the face. He inhaled a large portion of it, the rest blocking out his vision. As he struggled to regain his breathing and sight, a series of screams and crashes emitted from around him. Wand in hand now, Charlie blasted the rest of the smoke that was around him away, and he chased after the dragon, a trail of destruction left behind it. He heard another series of screams from the shoppers, as well as a loud voice at the end of the aisle the dragon was in. Charlie tried to ignore the fact that George was going to be furious at him. He’d pay him back, “Sorry George! My uh…little friend here seems to have woken up from her nap.” Charlie sent a stunning spell at the dragon but missed. He had an extra sleeping draught on him, but he needed to stop the creature first. Stunning spells worked surprisingly well on baby dragons, but only long enough to knock them out again. “Don’t worry! She’ll be asleep again in no time.” 562 words @george Cynical by blink-182

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George couldn't help but laugh. His customers were all cowering and screaming in fear, he was going to be out a great deal of merchandise, but the sight of a baby dragon happily chowing down on candy was probably the highlight of his day. He only laughed harder when a middle-aged woman gave him a dirty look. He could only imagine why she was even in his store unless it was to accompany some overly eager child. And now, curiosity overwhelming their fear, many children were trying to approach the thing. George didn't blame them. Dragons could be pretty cool when they weren't destroying everything in sight.

He saw the swathe of red hair just as his laughing fit began to fade. He figured the dragon could only belong to one person, but he wasn't entirely sure why Charlie had stopped by to pay a visit. Or why he hadn't done a better job of keeping his luggage contained. He watched as Charlie shot a stunning spell at the dragon and rolled his eyes as the spell shot by harmlessly. His brother should probably stick to wrangling dragons, not trying to cast spells on them.

George took the hint and began to creep quietly toward the dragon. It had moved on from the candy and was now terrorizing the middle-aged woman, snapping at her toes while she danced around in terror. George was tempted to let the little show go on, but he knew the dragon needed to be subdued before it damaged more of his goods or decided it really wanted to hurt someone.

But, man, was it entertaining to watch her dance.

The dragon seemed thoroughly distracted and almost as entertained as George was, so it was easy enough to sneak up on the little creature. George withdrew his wand from his robe pocket and shot a quick stunner at the thing. The dragon swayed lazily on its feet before falling over. It continued to move sluggishly before finally falling still, and George was reminded how resistant dragons were to magic. He wasn't an expert like Charlie, but he had learned a thing or two from his brother's trips home.

George stood over the dragon, ignoring the woman as she cursed him, grabbed her giggling son by the arm, and stormed out. He looked over at Charlie, grinned, and said, "You know, you could have just sent a card."

charlie marie weekly

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A fter notifying George that the baby dragon belonged to him, Charlie watched carefully as it continued to attack candy, people, and whatever else was ankle high. He knew it wasn’t exactly funny to laugh at the customers running and screaming in fear, but it had been some time since he had seen something as hilarious as this. Baby dragons rampaging in joke shops was now an all-time favorite of Charlie’s. “You sure you don’t want to keep her? She really seems to enjoy the customers,” Charlie got out between laughing fits. Watching the one lady dance had made his day for sure. Keeping a close eye on the dragon, as well as what George was doing, Charlie quickly followed his brother’s motions, realizing that it was time to take the little bugger out. Wand still drawn in case George missed, and soot all over his face, Charlie watched his brother stealthily stun the sucker. Charlie was on the dragon in a mere second, dropping his wand to the floor and replacing it with the sleeping draught he had on him. Propping the still twitching dragon’s head on his leg, he popped the top off the flask and yanked open the creature’s mouth. A small puff of black smoke shot out of it, catching him off guard. He had thought it was waking up again. Razor sharp teeth gleaming at him, Charlie tipped the dragon’s head back enough so that the sleeping draught could be poured down its throat. Completing this simple task, he closed its jaw again and waited for it to stop moving around, the effect of the stunning spell having worn off near the end of all of it. A few of the people still in the store could be audibly heard sighing, relieved that the tiny terror had finally been taken down. A few beads of sweat had formed on Charlie’s forehead during the tense moments leading up to George’s intervention, and he smiled at his brother as he wiped them off of his face. “Well that was definitely entertaining! You have a spare box I can toss this little one in? Mine seems to have been…misplaced.” Charlie glanced around the joke shop, nothing the destruction that his dragon had caused. The box it had been in was somewhere amidst the chaos and rubble. The dragon was going to be out cold still by time he dropped it off with his contact, so any old box would suffice. He picked up one of the baby dragon’s wings and dropped it to the ground, carefully mind you, to make sure it was definitely knocked out cold. A loud thud from it was enough to please Charlie, so he scooped it up in his arms, cradling it like the baby it was. “You know how slow mail is these days, plus not even a howler could replicate what this tiny dragon just did. I give it props.” He patted the dragon on the head as it snorted out more smoke in its sleep. He imagined it was probably dreaming of biting off George’s remaining ear, or chasing after the dancing lady. 522 words @george Dosed by Red Hot Chili Peppers

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George watched as his brother deftly dealt with the dragon, then surveyed his shop for damages. As much as he had enjoyed the little lizard's shenanigans, a few galleons worth of merchandise had been destroyed in the rampage. He tapped the flower on the lapel of his robe, radioing in one of his part-time workers to come clean the mess up. He hadn't particularly enjoyed hiring the worker, but Angelina had nagged him about spending too much time in the shop. Begrudgingly, he hired on some extra help, and that appeased his life. If the wife was happy, everyone was happy and all that.

"You know," he said, beginning to pick up half-crushed boxes and other goods, "I think the upkeep on it would be a real pain." He picked up a few more items, placing them in a neat stack for the other worker to do away with, and smacked his hands together, rubbing the debris off. When Charlie asked for a box for the dragon, George gave him a long, hard look and then rolled his eyes. "A box? A box? Brother, you need a blood safe. Fireproof and everything. Send that thing down to Gringott's next time it feels like destroying something."

But he headed to the storeroom and rummaged around for a bit before returning with a reinforced box. Reinforced meaning he just shoved another box into it for a little extra padding. If Lil' Fangs and Claws decided nap time was over again, the flimsy cardboard would be no match, even for such a tiny dragon. He handed it over to Charlie, shaking his head and smiling. "Ya know, next time you feel like showing up and surprising me...don't." He waved Charlie away from the dispersing crowd and toward the storeroom he had just exited from, allowing them a little more privacy to catch up and less surface area for the dragon to destroy if it decided to wake up again.

"So what brings you and Ankle Biter to Diagon Alley?" he asked, sitting down on a stack of boxes.

charlie marie weekly

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C harlie watched as George looked at the destruction that laid before them. The dragon had only been out of the box for a few seconds, but that was long enough to destroy a significant amount of merchandise as well as scare away potential customers. Well, he wasn’t sure if having a dragon wreaking havoc in the store would be that much of a loss on George’s sales, if anything people would catch wind of it and show up to see what happened. It also wasn’t unlike the shop to have crazy things going on it; it was a joke shop after all, and by far one of the more popular ones that Charlie was aware of. Plus spotting a dragon was quite the novelty for the ordinary witch or wizard, especially in the middle of Diagon Alley on a fairly normal day. For those in the store when the dragon burst from the box, well, they probably wouldn’t be back for a while. From the look on the dancing lady’s face, the Weasley brothers were probably going to have to deal with an auror sooner or later. Good thing Charlie was licensed to carry the flying lizard around without any hitches. Stepping over a few broken pieces of merchandise, Charlie laughed as his brother figured the upkeep on the dragon would be awful. “And this is exactly why people aren’t supposed to keep them as pets. If I wasn’t here, you might not have a store left.” At the same time, George would still have all of his store intact, but it was a little late for that now. “But this one is on me. Apparently she has quite the resistance to sleeping potions.” Charlie paused a moment, thinking over how much potion he had used to knock the dragon out earlier that morning. He had brought two vials with him, only using half to put it to sleep the first time. After this last instance, he had used the remaining full one on the dragon. That would hopefully keep it asleep long enough for him to make the transfer to his coworker in an hour. He continued patting the sleeping dragon’s head as George left the main floor of the store for a few seconds, after mumbling about putting the dragon in a fireproof safe. Charlie, thinking about what that would look like, chuckled the entire time George was gone. Gringotts had utilized dragons in the bank before, much to magical beast activists and dragonologists alike, but that was for the protection of highly valuable items. The likes of which the public probably didn’t need to know about. Still, it wasn’t a laughing matter, and keeping a dragon hidden from muggles, let alone the magical population, was extremely impressive on the banks part. He had always been impressed by the amount of work they did securing and keeping magical objects safe. George eventually returned, box in hand, and gave it to Charlie. He assumed this wasn’t fireproof either, but it was better than walking through Diagon Alley with a dragon in his hands. Charlie took the book and placed the scaled creature inside gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely owl ahead of time if I’m bringing a friend.” Noticing George motioning him to follow, Charlie walked closely behind his brother into the storeroom. He sat down across from George, setting the boxed dragon on the ground in front of him, just in case it decided to wake up from its nap again. “Well, our little friend here was smuggled into London. For the second time. I had to remove it a few weeks back after it had hatched, and somehow the guy who had done the deed managed to find it again and bring it home.” Charlie crossed his legs as he settled in for the rest of his story. “So this time it took three of us to wrangle it in the guy’s tiny flat, trying to make sure the muggle neighbors didn’t notice. I don’t know how they didn’t, the bloody thing was sending tiny fireballs out the window. When we finally knocked it out, I was tasked with bringing it to a coworker in Diagon Alley that will transport it all the way to Romania, where hopefully it’ll stay for the rest of its life.” That was pretty much the entire story, save a few details about how the smuggler had been blasted in the face with one of those small balls of fire and his beard had caught on fire. Maybe he shouldn’t have left that out, George would have gotten a kick out of it. “But I had about an hour to spare so I thought I’d stop by the shop and let you check the dragon out. Not too often you get to see them as babies.” 803 words @george King For A Day by Green Day

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George shook his head in amazement. He couldn't understand why anyone would want a dragon for a pet. They were lethal, even at their earliest stages, as this one had already proven. His customers had mostly gotten over their fear, but many quickly made their purchases and left or just dropped items where they stood and bolted for the door. That wasn't good for business. He was sure he could find a way to spin the catastrophe in his favor, maybe by putting the Wildfire Whiz-Bangs on sale for a few days with the tag "SAFER THAN REAL DRAGONS". Yeah, that might work.

George lounged lazily on his makeshift seat, grinning as Charlie told his story. Dragons were very popular pets, especially among the richer witches and wizards, and it seemed that everyone wanted one. That is, until they started growing. He'd heard many similar stories from his brother and even some on his own, and he couldn't help but shake his head every time it was mentioned. He had even heard rumors that Hagrid had tried to keep a dragon at Hogwarts. It had never been confirmed, of course, but when Charlie mysteriously showed up on the Marauder's Map, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. He had never mentioned it, but the thought always made him smile. After the damage to his store, he could only imagine what one would do to that tiny, highly flammable hut.

He laughed out loud as the story continued, noticing with amused satisfaction that Charlie was really getting into the story. He could picture in his head the chaos of trying to wrangle the little beast while trying to keep the muggles oblivious. It was definitely not a job he wanted to have. He would take causing (mostly) harmless mischief any day. George eyed the sleeping dragon in Charlie's lap. They did make cute babies - when they were asleep and not destroying someone's livelihood. He reached out to stroke it, noting that the scales were actually fairly soft. Maybe that was just a baby thing, but he was expecting them to be sharp at rough at the very least.

"So what kinda dragon is it?" George had never really bothered learning the breeds. He only knew of the four that had been used for the Triwizard Tournament, and the Whiz-Bang dragon had been modeled after the Chinese Fireball. But, other than that, he was clueless. They were all just four-legged snakes with wings.

charlie marie weekly

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O ne of Charlie’s favorite things about being a dragonologist was watching others listen to his stories. For living in a world where magic was real, even the shortest stories about dragons drew insane interest from almost everyone. The looks of wonder, amazement, and horror alike always formed on his listener’s faces. George was no exception to that, minus the horror, of course. He had heard countless numbers of Charlie’s experiences of working with dragons, so the gory details were never spared, yet they didn’t seem to affect his brother much. Charlie had noticed this happen more than once over the years, and he had chalked it up to numerous things: George had seen too much in his life. Too much to the point where stories of dragon’s ripping unsuspecting people apart or destroying entire herds of livestock in one fell swoop probably seemed normal. Sure they were normal to Charlie because he had experienced all of it, but this was something he had never wished his brother, let alone anybody, to feel comfortable with. The other thing that had constantly crossed his mind was maybe George had always been looking for some way to make a wise comment about the stories, so the more horrible details were spared, replaced by idle laughter or jokes. Whichever it was, Charlie knew what the underlying cause probably was, but never wanted to bring it up. There were some things that were better left unsaid, and it was assuring to know George could still laugh. “It’s a Peruvian Vipertooth. Highly poisonous.” Charlie said smiling at his brother as he was petting the sleeping dragon. “You’ll be fine as long as you don’t touch its fangs. Even then, at this age, there’s no way its poison would deal a lethal dose if it got in your blood stream. The teenage ones are the most dangerous, since they’ll play around with you for a little while before giving you a nice chomp or two.” He had witnessed that first hand with the livestock that they fed the Vipertooths with. Extremely smart for being giant lizards, and both the dragons and dragonologists knew what was going on. The teenage dragons were the most unruly of the bunch, excluding babies, whilst the adults just went off on their own. It was kind of nice not having to deal with fully grown dragons all the time, and unless they wandered into muggle territory, usually they weren’t that much of a problem. “I hate to have to send it to Romania, since it’s from Peru, but taking it back overseas at this age is dangerous. It’ll start growing rapidly over the next few months, and it’ll be hard enough taking it to our area in time.” 456 words @george Little Giant by Roo Panes

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George massaged his temples in mock exasperation as Charlie described the dragon. It should have been real exasperation, really, but George rarely got exasperated by anything. His children were at the top of that list. Dragons? Hardly. But he could put up a good front. "So you mean to tell me that you decided it was a good idea to visit your wildly successful - not to mention, devilishly handsome - brother, with a 'highly poisonous' lizard? Not only highly poisonous, but also stored in an easily-escapable box. Am I getting this right? Did Mum put you up to this?" He was trying his hardest to sound upset, but he couldn't hold back the laugh in his voice. Sure, it would hurt sales for the rest of the day. But the moment "I survived the Peruvian Vipertooth" shirts hit the shelves, his sales would skyrocket again. But he couldn't tell Charlie that. His brother needed to sweat, even if it was just for a moment.

"And not only is this lizard poorly contained and highly poisonous, but it also appears to have a ravenous appetite for fat women's ankles. Are you trying to ruin me, Charlie? What on earth did I ever do to you?" George couldn't help it anymore. He couldn't keep up the angry store owner charade. The image of the little dragon snapping at that woman's feet made him lose it. He started guffawing loudly, doubling over with laughter at the thought. He should have been genuinely concerned for a paying customer, but the dirty look she had given him made him care a lot less. Even better, the glee on her son's face gave him a not-so-secret pleasure. He would have stories to tell his friends for years to come. George would enjoy that.

When his giggles subsided, he nodded to the gently trembling box before them. The dragon was snoring softly, and George wished he could sleep that deeply. "So do you think Puff here will wake up again before you make it back to Romania?" The thought of another spectacular display like what he just witnessed almost sent him into another giggling fit, but he was able to restrain himself. This time.

charlie marie weekly

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D espite George’s attempt to ice him, Charlie held steady in the “serious” talk, his grin not dipping for one second of it. George had never been mad with him before, and he had done a lot worse when they were younger. Plus. Charlie had been one of the only ones in the family that was easily amused by the twins’ expenditures in the joke business early on. Everyone else was…well, they had been through that too many times before and there was no reason to dwell on it now. They had become successful, and even more so after the war had ended. Thus, George being serious was only a possibility if he was either on his deathbed or cursed to say the opposite of what he wanted to. Even then, it would be hard-pressed to get anything remotely serious out of him. While George “berated” him with all the things Charlie had done up to this point, all he could do was manage to grin and nod, keeping back laughter. “I wish Mum had asked me to do it.” His grin widened as he realized how funny that would actually be. “Actually, maybe don’t bring this up to her the next time we’re all together. Might have my own family now, but she still scares me when she gets angry.” The next part of George’s commentary was apparently a breaking point for him. The minute he finished talking, he burst out into laughter. There was typical George. “Oh, nothing really. You probably did something to me at some point in time, so this was payback.” He flashed another smile. “In all seriousness, I’m sorry about the shop. Never would have imagined this little thing would wake up before I got rid of it.” He studied the small dragon a little more as they sat there. They were lucky that it hadn’t actually bitten anyone. What a mess that would have been. First it was illegally brought into the country, twice at that, and then a poisoning and destruction of property on top of that would have been too much paperwork. Charlie hated paperwork. “Hopefully not. I used more sleeping draught than I probably should have on it. By the way, you don’t happen to have any on you do you? Just in case?” Charlie pulled the little vial of potion that he still had left on him. There was absolutely no way the dragon would wake up again before he dropped it off with the other dragonologist, but it had already woken up once. The odds of it doing it again were significantly increased now, and he definitely didn’t have enough to knock it out again if it came to that. 451 words @george Reassemble by A Day To Remember

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George shook his head in amusement, his sides aching from the force of his own laughter. When Charlie brought up his fear of their mother, George nodded sympathetically. His wife made him cower at times, but nothing was as fearsome as Molly Weasley. The little dragon between them could grow up to be the most fearsome lizard on earth, and it would still tremble before their mother. Having seen what she was capable of during the Second Wizarding War, she was not someone he wanted to mess with. Prank incessantly as much as he did his siblings, sure, but never mess with. She had already ragged him several times about his poor relationship with Roxanne, and it was not a thought he wanted to revisit. There was also always that sadness when she looked at him. Everytime, without fail. No matter how happy she was, one glance at him made her instantly somber. It drove him nuts, that mixture of pity and blame.

He shook his head, shooing the thoughts away. But it could have easily appeared as if he was dismissing Charlie's apology. He was a little more serious now, but the happy light was still in his eyes. "No worries, Charlie. I'll get Fred to clean it up." A few pieces of smashed merchandise would hardly hurt his profits. Hell, half the stuff got smashed before it even made it to the shelves, and he still managed to be insanely wealthy. Sometimes, it was hard to fathom how exponentially the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had multiplied, especially since the end of the war. Voldemort Voodoos were still flying off the shelves almost as fast as he could make them.

"Sure," he said lightly, rolling his eyes. "I keep plenty of that on hand in case I ever need to knock out a baby dragon. Sorry, bro, you'll have to hit up the apothecary for that. The Shacklebolt girl works there now. She's a little weird, but she might be able to help you out." He laughed to himself. Him, calling someone else weird. Yes, that was a riot. "But if money is an issue, I can definitely help you out there."

charlie marie weekly

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C harlie nodded as his brother said he’d get Fred to clean everything up. What a great boss he was, making his own son do all the dirty work. Of course, things were extremely easy when it came to cleaning and magic. Their mother had done a good job showing them how to do that from a young age. Taking care of three growing kids had been a difficult enough job for him, he had no idea how their parents had managed with seven of them, all within a few years of each other. Throw in the fact that he had a slight obsession with animals from a young age and Fred and George were always causing havoc, and well, it was a miracle that they all made it this far without their mother killing them. The prospects of having so many grandchildren was probably what had kept her from doing so. “Speaking of Fred, how’s the family doing? Without Harper in school anymore, I feel like I don’t hear anything about Fred or Roxanne anymore.” The strangest thing had occurred with the next generation of the Weasley-Potter clan; they weren’t all in Gryffindor. Because of this, what seemed like familial connections were lost when it came to his kids. Harper had always done a good job keeping him updated with all the going ons with his nieces and nephews, for better or worse, whereas Ondina and Xavier were…well, they were their own people. The poor sorting hat probably got tired of putting them all in one place. He grinned again as his brother sarcastically responded that he had sleeping draught on hand. He had figured that wasn’t going to be the case, but George had such a strange accumulation of tricks and pranks in his shop, it didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility that he might have a vial or two lying around. “No, no, no, money isn’t an issue. Was just wondering. I should be fine as long as I don’t dilly-dally around shopping before I meet my person.” Charlie stared at the small dragon, hoping that it wouldn’t break through the sleeping potion again. The last thing he needed was it getting free in the middle of the street. Then he’d definitely be screwed. “You don’t assume one of those Fainting Fancies would work, do you? Haven’t had the pleasure of trying one yet.” 398 words @george A World Away by Inukshuk

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