Characters, settings, and story relating to the Harry Potter series of novels are copyright J. K. Rowling, along with Bloomsbury Publishing, et al. “Spirit of Fear” is not an officially published work, nor is it in any cooperation with J. K. Rowling or Bloomsbury Publishing. “Spirit of Fear” is entirely (with the exclusion of the aforementioned characters, settings, and story) a work by Thomas Holman.

Chapter Nineteen

Collection

Unsure of how Apolline would react to Chey and Fleur’s relationship, the two of them agreed to be mindful of how close together they were while in her presence.

The remainder of the ski trip passed without further injury or otherwise negative event.

“Are we still on for Romania?” Chey reminded Fleur at the end of the week.

“Absolutely!” she cried, all indications of apprehension towards the trip now having vanished, though for reasons Chey could not discern. “I talked to my mother, and we’ve decided that she and my sister will head home while we go straight to Romania.”

“She seriously had no objection to us being alone?”

“No, it’s strange. She hasn’t said anything to me about us at all. You?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to jump to conclusions and assume she’d approve.”

“It’s not like her opinion would change our decision, right?”

“Only if it changes your’s.”

“That’s sweet, Chey.”

Christmas, which incidentally was a day of perfect skiing weather, was their last day on the slopes. Gabrielle found it hard to decide between skiing and her newly unwrapped gifts. The day after, they parted ways, Apolline and Gabrielle returning to France by portkey, while Chey and Fleur apparated to Romania.

“There’s something I wondered, Chey,” Fleur asked when they appeared outside the reservation’s gates. “Why are you so unafraid to use magic outside school?”

“I’m a United States citizen, and therefore subject to their laws, which includes being eligible for certification to use unsupervised magic and apparition at the age of fifteen.”

“That’s two years before us!”

“Hardly seems fair, does it?” He smiled and led her through the gate, which opened to reveal a short cobblestone driveway lined with small office buildings, where the handlers worked and slept. Fleur refused to see any dragons before seeing Chey’s office, though he assured her there was nothing remarkable about it.

As they entered the door with the small bronze plaque with Chey’s name, it was clear that Chey was right. Nothing in his office was at all exciting to Fleur, except for everything that fascinated her. From pictures of American cars to books on spell theory, Fleur could not get enough of learning what Chey was interested in. She had even laughed at his old Durmstrang uniform, calling the colors everything from drab to dreary. Then her eyes rested on a pair of keys behind Chey’s desk.

“What are they for?” she asked, approaching them, failing see who had entered the door.

“Chey’s motorbike,” Chuck answered, causing Fleur to jump back and nearly topple over the desk chair. “It’s the black sportbike he keeps in the back.”

“Chey...you never told me you had...”

“Oh, yeah. Christmas present two years ago from the board of directors that handle my family’s finances.”

“How generous!”

“Yeah. Bummer there’s no decent roads to ride on in Romania,” Chey lamented, though only briefly. “How you doing, Chuck?”

“All right,” Chuck replied. “This the girl you were talking about?” he added, slightly glassy-eyed.

“Yep. Charlie Weasley, this is Fleur Delacour.”

“Nice to meet you, Monsieur Weasley,” she said in that intoxicatingly charming tone. “My, that’s quite a fiery head of hair.”

“Yeah, likewise,” Chuck droned, as though in a trance.

“You know, Fleur,” Chey piped in as he moved to the back of the room, sensing he had to save Chuck from the veela charm, “my bike’s right through that back door if you want to see it. I gotta have a quick word with Chuck. Business stuff.”

“Of course,” she said, walking through the door Chey had opened for her.

“So, Chuck,” Chey finally said after closing the door behind Fleur, “how’s Vipe?”

“...Yeah.”

“Chuck! Wipe the drool off your chin and focus!”

“What?! Oh. Sorry, Chey, it’s just...she’s pretty.”

“I know. But she’s way younger than you.”

“Not that much...”

“She’s still in school!”

“It’s not all that important...”

Chey slapped Chuck on the forehead to snap him out of it, and in the process cast a modified Impervious charm to protect him from the veela effects.

“You back with us now?”

“Sorry again, Chey.”

“‘S okay, Chuck. How have things been here?”

“Let me just say it’s good to have you back. Those new recruits we got last Fall would never have gotten past training back when I started.”

“Are they really that bad?”

“I have a hard time believing they know which way is up. A couple of them have nearly been killed.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t get too attached to them?”

Chuck laughed weakly, saying, “Good one, mate. But it makes sense. I doubt it’ll be long before this job gives rise to a recruit’s funeral, although whether it’s by the dragons’ teeth or my hand, I can’t be sure.”

“Chuck...”

“It’s these damn kids who don’t know what they’re getting into!”

“No, it’s not them. It’s the job. Handling dangerous creatures just isn’t glamourous anymore, there isn’t as much money coming in, and we’re no longer the heros.”

“What do you mean?”

“A long time ago, little kids would dream of doing something romantic for a living, like taming dragons or fighting the dark arts. But now their dreams have changed. The dragons have turned to lawyers and bankers, and now they fight their corporate opponents.”

“I see what you mean. It’s a sad day for us thrill-seekers.”

“Part of it’s our fault, though. We let it happen. Best we can do now is whip these recruits into shape like training should have.”

“Maybe we could run an ad campaign?” Chuck said, to which Chey laughed at the broken tension. “Anyway, you go pry your girlfriend away from your bike and I’ll fetch Vipey.”

“Good idea,” Chey said, opening the door through which Fleur had previously exited. He saw that she had lost interest in the bike, which Chey had customized to look even more sleek and slightly menacing, which sat in the room’s center, and was now admiring everything else in the room from still more posters to ornate swords to his old broomsticks. “Not a bad collection of stuff, wouldn’t you say?” he approached her.

“I can only guess the stories behind these things,” she said, gazing at a long-bladed knife that hung on the wall.

“Well, not everything in here’s so interesting, but that knife you’re looking at now definitely deserves mention.” He pulled it down from it’s mount and the blade turned from it’s dull gray color into a pure white. “No one’s ever been able to decide on a name for these, but they are incapable of penetrating human skin.”

“Only human...?” she asked, somewhat worried that the blade might take exception to her.

“I’m pretty sure us veela are safe. I’ve had the edge land on my bare feet several times, but not so much as a scratch ever showed up.” Fleur breathed a sigh of relief at those words. “What’s remarkable about it, other than being perfectly safe for the user, is that it can cut through anything else effortlessly, even the hardest substances on Earth. Always a clean cut, too.”

“That’s usefull.”

“This particular one was used to cut diamonds. Rumor has it that it made the original cuts in the Hope Diamond. It’s also never been sharpened a second time.”

“How did you come by it?”

“My dad collected a lot of stuff. Went to a lot of auctions, antique shops, car dealerships-”

“What was that last one?”

“He liked cars,” Chey explained, putting the knife back on it’s mount. “Had a whole garage full of classics, exotic imports, custom builds, all in perfect shape. His favorite was a ‘69 Charger that he bought new. Never made any changes to it or anything, just kept in pristine condition.”

“Your father sounds interesting.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think everything you just said was about yourself.”

Chey pondered this thought, remembering that Minerva had always told him how frighteningly like his father he was. “Scary thought. Are we going to sit in here all day or are we going to see dragons?”

The two of them left Chey’s office, and walked through the gate further down the driveway. Fleur was mesmerized by what she saw: an open field where so many different dragons relaxing, stretching their wings, and even chasing down sheep that had been let loose by the handlers. Immediately upon their entrance, a Romanian Longhorn approached them, gave Chey a sniff, then quickly licked him on the cheek before chasing after a sheep that had just earlier escaped a Ridgeback named Norberta which was now fishing a meal out of a small lake.

“They’re so tame...” Fleur commented. “I thought they were supposed to be vicious.”

“Well, you’re not seeing a representative sample. These are the only ones we’re comfortable showing to visitors. Hey, I think I see Constance over there!”

Constance was indeed huge compared to the others, even by Ironbelly standards. Though her size was impressive, her age had gotten to her, and spent much of her time sleeping away from the other dragons. As the two of them approached, she opened slightly one of her crimson red eyes, then closed it just as lazily, allowing them near.

“Just about all she does is sleep. Doesn’t even care if you stand on top of her. Won’t move or nothing. Go ahead!”

“W-what?”

“Stand on top of her head!”

“No! Chey, I’m not doing that!”

“C’mon!” Chey said, and levitated her on top of the beast’s head, which made no indication she’d felt her. Fleur stood rooted to the spot, fearing that some wrong move might awaken some wrath the dragon kept hidden. It was a while before Chey’s smile told her that all was well, and she relaxed.

The two of them laughed for a moment, after which Chey felt dozens of sharp pains in his shoulder, and Fleur’s eyes widened in terror.

“Vipe,” Chey said calmly, “Let me go.”

Vipey obliged, then licked Chey on the face repeatedly, knocking him down. Fleur, who still hadn’t grasped the hilarity of the situation, leapt off Constance’s head and drew her wand, ready to blast Vipey away from Chey.

“Vipe! Vipe! Knock it off! Stop! Go get Fleur! She’s over there! Get her!”

Fleur barely had time to react before Vipey’s copper colored face was right in front of her’s, giving her a sniff before giving her the same licking treatment he had only moments ago been giving Chey, knocking her down as well.

Chey, having recovered from Vipey’s onslaught of affection, now stood back to laugh for a moment before finally pulling Vipey away by the tail.

“I think he likes you, Fleur.”

“He’s just as spontaneous as you are!” she yelled as she dusted herself off.

“Must be what brought us together.”

Constance had not stirred once during all the commotion.

Chey and Fleur toured the field, with Vipey following them excitedly. They passed by Brian’s cell, and Chey described how he and Vipey first handled him, to which Fleur listened with rapt attention.

“And over there’s Norberta. She was the newest dragon here before I came in. From what I hear she was quite a handful.”

“But she seems so docile now,” Fleur remarked, while in the distance Norberta had ripped from the lake’s depth a rather tasty lunch with more enthusiasm than was necessary. “Well five minutes ago she did.”

“Every dragon, regardless of breed, is a pain in the ass when they’re a year old. She calmed down by the time I got here.”

“How do you do this everyday?”

“Do what?”

“Wake up and face this dangerous job every morning?”

“You just keep trying different things until you get it right. Nothing’s invented on the first try. And if it is, it was by accident. Either way, something’s been invented.”

Then, a voice rang throughout the entire reserve saying, “All available high-clearance handlers report to Horntail Confinement.”

Chey and Fleur exchanged glances: Chey one of apology and Fleur was worried.

“You have to...” she whispered.

“If I’m on the grounds, I’m on call.” He started to walk away, then called back “I’ll be safe! Don’t worry!”

Author's note.

You guys are bad at this "Spot the Reference" game. Oh, well. Mercy rule: The Red vs. Blue reference in Chapter Four is when Chey says "He has not tried to bite at all. Not since he bit me the first time," quoting Caboose in the episode where they first meet Crunchbite, the alien (AKA "Fluffy! The alien that only loves!").

Maybe we'll play again some other time. Blarg.

So lately I haven't been writing Spirit of Fear. I have 30 pages of script to write for a screenwriting class, as well as a combined 16 pages of research paper for two other classes. On top of that, I've had to do some video editing for work. Yeah, been busy.

In other news, my latest video project is online. Twilight Princess, a Music Video is compiled using footage from the Wii version of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess which I had captured personally, and set to Tyler Heath's "Pirates of Dragon Roost Island," a remix of the Dragon Roost Island theme music from The Wind Waker. You can find it in the Videos section of my website (link on my profile). Do enjoy.

I'm surprised at the surge of hits lately, and I'm glad people are reading. Only thing missing is your feedback. I'm lonely without it. It kept me company at night. It pushed me on the swings, and went fishing with me. It even buttered my toast. I miss it.