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The dragon, Onyx, nudged at something on the ground. Charlie wasn’t sure what it was. The moonlight was bright under the full moon but not enough to let him see it clearly. Onyx looked up at him and then looked down to nudge at whatever it was again, clearly suggesting he should come take a look. A wave of confusion rolled over him when he got closer and heard tiny whines coming from a basket.
Who would leave a basket with something in it in the middle of a dragon sanctuary? It was a miracle Onyx hadn’t just eaten whatever it was as a snack. Goose pimples broke out across Charlie’s skin as he rushed to find out what was in that blanket.
He had half expected a baby, but was surprised to find two tiny wolf pups wrapped up together in the basket. “Puppies?” he asked, looking up at Onyx as though she would have an explanation. The look she gave him suggested she didn’t have an answer but she did expect him to do something about them.
Charlie was still shocked that the dragon hadn’t eaten them as he picked up the basket and pulled his trusty broomstick from an inner pocket of his jacket, enlarging it back to regular size.
“I’ll take care of them,” he promised Onyx. She looked pleased as he took off, cradling the basket to his chest.
The puppies whined as they were lifted into the air, but soon the motion of the broom ride soothed them to sleep. Charlie had been a long way out in the field, where he was supposed to stay for a few more days, but this was important. There was only one person in the Sanctuary who would know what to do to help the two motherless pups survive — his own Hermione, the love of his life and the Sanctuary’s resident Magizoological Healer. The wolf pups didn’t need her magical knowledge, but she would still know how to help them.
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Hermione yawned as she made her way into the Healing facility, listening to the broody dragons roar back and forth over their nests in separate warded areas and the chirps and tiny attempts at roars of her youngest charges in their pens. Everything sounded right.
She sipped her coffee as she made her rounds checking on everything and everyone. The overnight shifts of egg-tenders and baby dragon handlers were filling out their final paperwork as the morning teams took over. None of the eggs, with or without mothers, had hatched overnight. None of the brooding Mum dragons were showing signs of egg sickness. All was well — until she looked outside.
In the early morning sunshine, someone was flying in by broom, a bundle of something at his chest. He was still too far away to know who it was except for the halo of fiery red around his head. Why would Charlie be headed in days early? Whatever he had found, he was bringing it to her. She was certain of it.
So she began to prepare for an emergency, whatever it might be.
A basket full of wolf pups was not what she had expected, but she loved Charlie’s heart and was more than willing to see what she could do for them. They would need milk rather than blood like dragon babies, but that could be accommodated. She listened to him explain how Onyx had found them as she prepared a couple of warm towels to wrap them each in.
Reaching into the basket, Hermione started to pull back the blanket when a tiny but very human hand shot out and wrapped around her finger. Stunned, her eyes shot up to Charlie’s. “You said they were pups!”
“They are,” he said easily, taking a warm towel from her and leaning in to pick one up. He froze at the sight of the hand on her finger, and it was Charlie who pulled the blanket back from the two little bodies inside, revealing very human babies, both with thick, brown curls on their heads and golden eyes.
He blinked down at them. “They were wolf pups. I swear it.” Looking back up at Hermione, she could see the shock on his face.
“Oh Merlin,” Hermione gasped. “Last night was a full moon.”
Charlie stiffened. “Infant werewolves? Is that even possible?”
“Yes, and no. Wolf shifters, more like. Those born with lycanthropy aren’t infected the way others are. They… well, I need to do some research. And… honestly, I’m not sure I’m the right person to see them since they’re human.”
“Are they human?” Charlie asked.
“They— yes. Yes,” she answered.
“So you think the human Healer would be better for them?” he questioned.
Hermione shuddered, thinking of the Sanctuary Healer. No, the tiny babies would not be safe with that angry old harpy. She could see in his eyes that Charlie felt the same way. “You’re right. They’re better off here for the moment, but Charlie, what will we do with them?”
She knew his answer before he said it. “Take care of them. Keep them safe.”
“Raise them, you mean?” Hermione asked, pushing for him to understand what he was saying. “Us?”
He paused. She could see he was really considering it. “Are you so sure you don’t want children?”
Surprised by the slight pain in his voice, Hermione blinked at him. “That wasn’t what I was saying at all,” she told him.
“It wasn’t?”
“No. I want… this isn’t really the time for that conversation, Charlie, but I want children with you.”
“Really?” he beamed.
“Really,” she said. “But I’m not sure we should go from childless to raising twins who can morph into wolves. Besides, what if their Mum comes back for them?”
“Hermione. I don’t know how they got where they were, but they were left in a basket in the middle of a Dragon Sanctuary. I don’t think their Mum is going to come looking for them. Even I can’t believe Onyx didn’t eat them.”
“She’s a Mum herself, you know. Just because her youngest could bite you in half now doesn’t mean she’s done being broody,” Hermione pointed out.
Laughing, Charlie said, “I wasn’t aware the broodiness would cross species that way.”
“Well, dragons aren’t necessarily known for it, but there are all sorts of examples of cross-species adoption. Onyx just had you there to help.”
As Hermione pulled the first baby from the basket to examine it, Charlie leaned against her other workstation. “So what kind of research will you be doing?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted as she listened to a tiny, too-rapid heartbeat. “There isn’t much literature on lycanthropy in general and even less so about those who are born with it. Perhaps at the Romanian Ministry Library… or…” She was at a loss.
“We could go to Shell Cottage, see what Remus and Bill have to say about them.”
“What are we going to tell the Sanctuary?” Hermione's voice was tinged with a little bit of exasperation. Merlin, she loved the man, but he was so focused when he had a creature in need that everything else, even dragons if the situation was important enough, fell by the wayside.
“That we have a family emergency,” Charlie said, shrugging.
Hermione laughed as she handed him the now-awake infant and picked up the other. “We can’t just claim there’s an emergency when—”
“They don’t have anyone else to be their family, so it is a family emergency,” he told her stubbornly.
Looking at him with all her love, Hermione sighed, giving in completely. “So it is.”