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Language:
English
Series:
Part 13 of Harry Potter Flash Fests
Collections:
Spook or Spice Flash Comp
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Published:
2024-10-30
Words:
1,627
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1/1
Comments:
60
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33
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174

The Legend of Hoia-Baciu

Summary:

After reading about the ghost of Hoia-Baciu, Xenophilius goes in search of the latest scoop for his beloved Quibbler. In the secluded forest he has an unexpected encounter that could change his future.

Notes:

Prompt:
Prompt Card #5
Card-5.png

I've tried to fit in all the prompts (although my focus was the top line), for my favourite prompt we can either go spooky with ruins or spicy with first kiss.

Winner: Grave New World (Best Imagery/Setting)
Joint Winner: Murder in the Dark (Blackout Bingo)

Work Text:

Twigs cracked under Xenophilius’s mock-dragonhide leather boots as he stepped through the swirling mist that shrouded the crooked pines of the Hoia-Baciu Forest. His muttered lumos cast flickering shadows against the ancient stones that rose on either side. They lay haphazardly where they'd fallen following some unnamed calamity. He twisted at a sudden flash of oranges and yellows, a bright spot in the gloom that was there and then gone. He stared at where the eye-like apparition had been. Nothing remained, not even the telltale gleam of dispersing nargles to indicate the presence of another being. It must have been a mere trick of the light playing games with his mind. Even so, his fingers wrapped more tightly around the reassuring twisted silver-grey wood of his cypress wand 

He followed the winding path deeper into the ruins. The cobbles were roughly arranged underfoot, occasional ones were missing entirely. Local muggles believed this place to be haunted, but he knew it held far deeper secrets. A story of forbidden love, an attempted coverup and ultimately a murder. A distant thud of a drum echoed against his ribs, his own heartbeat or the measured footsteps of something else? He whipped round holding his wand aloft; an owl softly hooted as it glided over his head. 

The thestral bones Hagrid had kindly donated to him clunked together in the backpack he'd thrown over one shoulder. According to legend, the use of bones was an essential component in the ritual to summon the ghost of Hoia-Baciu. An encounter that once documented, he was sure would be a scoop for his beloved Quibbler. 

The towering pines trembled at a gust of wind, groaning as they bent to its will. It stirred his hair, pale tendrils flailing helplessly in the breeze. The muffled light of the full moon cast an array of dancing shadows on the ground. It momentarily alighted on a flash of gleaming silver through a gap in the trees. Xenophilius focussed on the darkness. There was nothing there.

The stones and forest gave way to a small clearing. He hastily gathered a pile of branches discarded below the surrounding trees. A brief spark from his wand tip gave way to a roaring fire, wisps of smoke rising through the still present eerie mist.

He twirled and skipped around the bonfire, chanting the incantation that Luna had discovered in an ancient tome hidden in the depths of the Malfoy library. Draco had laughed at her findings, calling it a family myth, but on reading the tale his expression had softened. The story of Mihaela Moonwing, a witch of high standing from a renowned Romanian family was strikingly similar to their own family story. She'd been arranged to marry an aristocratic pureblood heir in the region, but instead she had chosen love and paid for that choice with her life. Draco had merely been threatened with disinheritance, although the provision of a blonde-haired grandchild had gone a long way to assuage Narcissa's distaste at the match. But Mihaela had not fared as well, she had been supposedly murdered by her father for daring to love the wrong person. Her attempts to hide her relationship behind a false arrangement with a more appropriate suitor had ultimately failed.

Every few steps Xenophilius paused, bending to place a single thestral bone on the compacted earth to mark the points of a seven pointed star with the fire at its centre. 

The last bone placed, he took his seat cross-legged in front of the fire. He raised his palms upwards in supplication, continuing to murmur the incantation under his breath. Luna's research had been crystal clear, the only way to meet with Mihaela was to conquer his fears and remain still with his eyes closed until she laid a single tap on his shoulder. Just as she had once surrendered to an unknown future, he too must do the same in order for her to bless him with her presence.

The crackle of the fire lulled him closer to sleep as the minutes stretched on. There had been no indication of how long one must wait, one must simply abide patiently in the moment until the witch chose to appear.

A snuffling noise behind him stirred him from his half-slumber. A flurry of nargles trickled down his spine. His robe rose suddenly around him as a crack rend through the air. 

Xenophilius's hands fell to his knees. He scrunched his eyes tightly shut, willing them to stay closed. Was that her arrival? Or something more sinister? His heart pounded against his ribs; the horn of a crumple-horned snorkack bore through his stomach. To open his eyes would be to risk everything he'd prepared for, but to not do so… Was he to meet his fate in this secluded forest?

“What have we here?” a gruff male voice asked, a hint of amusement rounding its edges. “You are no dragon.”

“Dragon?” Xenophilius gave in to the temptation and opened his eyes, twisting to see the intruder who'd caused the ritual to fail. A broad shouldered man leant nonchalantly against one of the roughly hewn stones. A glimmer of a smile graced his lips.

“There have been sightings of a dragon just outside the reserve. I saw the flames, and assumed…” the red-haired man started to explain, then he shrugged and pointed at the dwindling fire. His muscular tattooed arm had two entwined dragons winding up past his elbow, they were curled protectively around silvery scars.

“No, no dragon, just me.” Xenophilius scrambled to his feet and offered his hand. “Xenophilius Lovegood, editor-in-chief of the Quibbler. I was conducting some research.”

“I know about the Quibbler, excellent paper, kept me abreast of all the goings on back home during the height of the war.” A warm tingle settled in Xenophilius’s stomach at this unexpected praise for his pride and joy. “Charlie Weasley, dragon keeper,” Charlie continued. Charlie's calloused fingers grasped his more slender ones in a firm shake. Brown eyes reflected the oranges of the dying embers of Xenophilius's ritual fire. “Although apparently not a very good one, as I seem to have misplaced one.”

“Misplaced a dragon?” Neither man had let go of the others’ hand. A beautiful patchwork of nargles in an array of reds and yellows threaded up Charlie's arm. It had been a long time since Xenophilius had felt this drawn to another human.

“An antipodean opaleye, we rescued her from an illegal smuggling operation. But Matilda's an incredibly curious creature and she seems to have decided to have a little adventure. Muggle rumours suggest she's been hanging around here, a few sheep have disappeared and then their carcasses have turned up mysteriously singed. The obliviators have been hard at… Wait!” Charlie dropped his grip on Xenophilius’s hand. Instead, he motioned for stillness. Intense concentration flashed across his face as his eyes focussed over Xenophilius’s shoulder. Xenophilius held his breath.

Without warning, Charlie grabbed Xenophilius around the waist and pulled him against his chest. Xenophilius’s heart fluttered madly as his back made contact with the firm muscle, a snidget seeking escape.

Above them rose the stunning pearly body of a dragon, each scale shone in an array of pastel colours. She swooped close overhead as a burst of red flames erupted from her mouth. Charlie pushed Xenophilius to the floor, he landed on his back. Charlie fell on top of him and shielded him with his body. They both twisted to follow the dragon’s flight as, with a final flap of her immense ghostly white wings, she rose above the trees.

“She’s heading back towards the reserve,” Charlie declared happily, turning his head back to Xenophilius. “I think you intrigued her.”

Xenophilius swallowed, they were very close. Charlie's body was still pressed against his own, and his own was responding in ways he'd almost forgotten it could. 

Charlie shifted on top of him and it became apparent that Xenophilius wasn't the only one affected. Charlie's throat bobbed and his tongue flicked out and wet his lips. 

“You certainly intrigue me,” Charlie said, running a finger down Xenophilius’s cheek. He leant down and brushed his lips against Xenophilius's own. Xenophilius raised a hand to grasp Charlie's neck, holding him in place and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Charlie's hair tangled in his fingers as Xenophilius allowed himself to surrender to the sensations. A hint of almonds mingled with the bitter kick of coffee on his tongue. The cold earth beneath him contrasted with the warmth pressing down on his chest. Rough stubble rubbed against his top lip. A hundred wrackspurts danced through the blackness of his closed eyes, displaying a myriad of colours.

Charlie eventually drew back, panting. His breath tickled Xenophilius's cheek.

They lay staring at each other. Neither man moved.

“That was unexpected,” Charlie finally said. “But good, very good. You're good at this.”

Warmth rose from Xenophilius's chest, speeding up his neck and across his cheeks. “I've not… it's been a while,” Xenophilius settled on. It had been a long time. The freedoms of his youth had given way to a wonderful marriage and then single parenthood had hardly been conducive to dating. But with Luna happily married, perhaps it was time to branch out and find someone. Maybe he had found someone. Without allowing himself a second thought, his hand dropped onto the cold metal buckle of Charlie's belt.

“I can do a bit better than a quick blow job in a wood,” Charlie said with a laugh, standing up and pulling Xenophilius to his feet. “Why don't you come back to mine and we'll see where the night takes us.” He pulled his wand from his pocket and, wrapping an arm around Xenophilius’s waist, twisted on the spot.

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