Charlie would've happily carried the foal, but Penny wasted no time in lifting it up like it was nothing. He guessed she was used to hauling unconscious beasties around, being a vet of magical creatures after all.He took the bag and led her down towards Hagrid's hut.
"The dragons are amazing," Charlie said wistfully, "I work in the Dragon Reserve in the mountains. We try to stop them from being seen by Muggles, and to protect them from poaching, cause people are always after the blood or the horns. There's this sort of barrier around the reserve, but dragons are very magic-proof. Takes a group of us just to stun one, so they're always breaking down the barrier. We try to keep an eye on all the nests and keep track of the changing territory. We're learning new stuff about them all the time. Last year we had to hatch a couple of Romanian Longhorn eggs after the mother was killed by some...wizards..."
He trailed off and grinned sheepishly, realising that he'd been chattering on about his job for the duration of the walk to Hagrid's hut.
Even empty in mind afternoon smoke still rose from the old crooked chimney. He unlatched the door and they were quickly met with the booming barks of Fang. Charlie made a path through the room to Fang's bed. The old boarhound was less than pleased to have to make way for the injured threstral, but Charlie was able to coax him away so Penny could put the foal down on the bed.
"There's a good boy Fang," Charlie cooed, petting the drooling dog before making his way over to a bowl on the table. He filled it with water from his wand and rinsed the dried blood and dirt off his hands, "Right! Tea! I'll make some. Have a seat, I'm sure Hagrid won't mind. He's off inside the castle with McGonagall... I think."