Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2008-05-19 09:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp fic charlie/kingsley |
HP fic: Trading Favours [Charlie/Kingsley, general]
Title: Trading Favours
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Charlie/Kingsley
Rating: general (but implied sex)
Summary: Charlie's been asked to stop by the Minister's office.
Note: Teenyfic, 780 words. For angela_snape who wanted "Kingsley/Charlie, illegal dragon trading."
It was already three minutes after five when Charlie stood in the Ministry elevator, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for it to reach the correct floor. He had received the owl only that morning, and a last-minute change in the scheduling of the international Portkey from Bucharest had put him two hours behind already. His mother was going to start worrying if he didn't arrive at the Burrow soon; he hoped that whatever Kingsley Shacklebolt wanted wouldn't take long.
At last the doors slid back and Charlie hurried down the hallway to the appropriate door.
"Charlie Weasley. The Minister wanted to see me. Sorry I'm a bit late," he told the fit bloke behind the desk who was evidently Shacklebolt's secretary.
The man nodded and spoke into a small tube. "Minister Shacklebolt? Mister Weasley is here to see you."
Within half a minute Shacklebolt himself had appeared in the doorway of his private office, giving Charlie a rather strained smile. "Thank you, Francis. I won't need anything more this evening."
Francis nodded. "Very well. Goodnight, sir." He seemed to say it equally to Shacklebolt and to Charlie, who moved aside to let the man leave.
"Come in," said Shacklebolt as soon as Francis was gone.
"What's this all about, Minister?" Despite himself, Charlie was impressed by the room, which was furnished in a way that managed to be formal, almost comfortable even, without intimidation. He could see a door standing ajar behind Shacklebolt's desk, and the corner of a neatly made cot inside. Presumably the Minister used it for cat naps when the pressures of the job kept him from going home.
Shacklebolt sighed. "The Ministry needs your help, Mister Weasley."
"Charlie."
"Charlie. We've discovered that dragon eggs are being smuggled into Britain, and our best information suggests that they're coming from the Romanian dragon preserve. I want you, as a man already on the ground, as it were, to look into it for me."
Charlie frowned. "Why not simply get in touch with the Romanian wizarding authorities? It seems like this should be their jurisdiction."
"It appears that it's a question of corruption... and we don't know how far up it extends. Possibly all the way to the top."
Charlie drew in a sharp breath, and Shacklebolt nodded. "So you see, this can't be done through official channels. I'm asking you as a special favour to help me out."
"It's just eggs you're talking about, right?" asked Charlie. "Not anything else?"
"Only eggs, yes. Does that matter?"
"Well..." Charlie stretched out the word as he shifted in his seat, stretching out his leather-clad legs in front of him and grinning to himself as he caught Shacklebolt's appraising glance. "Laying season is over for this year, pretty much. Not likely I'll be able to catch anyone in the act."
"I understand that," Shacklebolt said. "I hoped you might be able to keep an ear to the ground, gather any information that seems relevant, and pass it on; chances are that the thief will try again next year, if we don't catch him in the meantime. I'd like you to just report in every month or so. Not by Owl Post, though, which could be intercepted."
"I only come back to England once or twice a year, usually," Charlie pointed out. "If I started doing so more often, it would look suspicious."
"You don't spend all your time on the preserve, though, do you? You go to Bucharest and Prague and Vienna occasionally?"
"Somewhere, yeah, maybe once a month or so," Charlie agreed.
"Good. You can meet with one of our agents there, then. She's a reporter and moves around a lot to get her information. You can arrange to have dates with her."
Charlie laughed. "Not if she's a woman, I can't. My tastes don't lie in that direction, and everyone on the preserve knows it."
"Oh, I see. Luna always travels with a photographer, Dennis. He may not be your type, but would that do?"
"Yes, that would be better. Now." Charlie licked his lips. "If I'm to do such a favour for the Minister, I'm going to request his favours in return." He nodded toward the cot in the other room and looked at Shacklebolt inquiringly.
"Are you sure you weren't in Slytherin?" Shacklebolt grinned.
"Quite sure. Do you want me to be more direct?"
"I appreciate directness," Shacklebolt murmured, standing up. "Why don't you show me how direct you can be?"
At half past six, pleasantly sated, Charlie took his leave. He thought that he might try to manage an extra trip or two home this year to make his reports to Shacklebolt in person.