Don't Think I Can Fight This Anymore

Dear Charlie,

Again, Evelyn is fine. They fixed her up in about three seconds. How she got into that shape is the concerning part.

Evelyn claims that she was out riding her motorbike when a muggle, who has since been declared drunk, tried to run her off the road. The only was she was able to survive was by purposely flipping her bike and apparating in mid-air to St Mungo’s, knowing that completing the crash there was the only way for her to immediately see a healer. Honestly, it was some quick thinking and really impressive magic that saved her. But she’s convinced not only that someone did this on purpose, but that it’s connected to her friend Tess’ attack. And possibly Quinn Tracy’s suicide.

Kingsley is looking into it personally but in the meantime Evelyn is really paranoid. We’re putting out the word that she’s still recovering from her injuries. In actuality, she’s taking muggle trains across Europe to see you. She’s due to arrive in Bucharest in three days time at ten pm.

Calm her down. Keep her safe.

Best,
George

~*~

Evelyn stared out the window as the train slowed to pull into Gara de Nord, the main train station in Bucharest. She fidgeted and touched her hair, which had been charmed into blonde loose waves. Sherlock, sitting next to her, angrily chewed his leash.

They had both had a long trip. Evelyn changed appearances every time she changed trains. She had been a young backpacker, a middle aged housewife, a buisnesswoman and now she was a young woman eager to move to a new city and start over. And she had to confound ten conductors just to keep Sherlock on the train.

Sherlock, as well behaved as he was, did not like being trapped in the iron carriages barreling across Europe. It trapped the smell of every person riding with him. The food his mistress gave him was awful and he wasn’t allowed to run anywhere. Plus Evelyn kept changing the color of his coat. The charms made him feel dirty.

The train stopped completely and Evelyn waited for the single mother sitting across from her to gather her son before collecting her bag and adjusting her hold on Sherlock’s leash. He growled but lept off his seat and trotted in front of her towards the exit.

Charlie leaned against a pillar in the center of the train station, looking around. It was quiet, being so late. A train from Vienna had just pulled in and was unloading. He studied all the passengers looking for Evelyn. Where could she be?

A blonde woman in a sky blue sun dress hurried off the train, tightly holding the leash of a golden lab. She looked around the station, and their eyes met.

There she was. He’d know those oceans anywhere.

Evelyn smiled hugely and walked across the station towards him, the dog prancing in front. “Hello.” she said as she reached him.

Charlie simply cupped her face and kissed her on the lips. She melted against him and let her shoulders, which had been tight for three days, relax. Evelyn wasn’t romantic enough to think that his embrace could protect her, but his lips tasted like home.

“We should go before your girlfriend sees us.” she muttered, letting him take her bag from her shoulder. “That crazy brunette girl.”

He chuckled. “Hmm, I’ve been warned that she’d send me to my mother in tiny pieces.” He looked down at the dog. “I’m assuming that’s Sherlock?”

“Yeah. The poor thing needs some decent food.”

Charlie took her hand and led her towards a dark corner of the station so they could disapparate.

“What do you think of the blonde?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You’re always pretty. But I prefer the brown.”

Evelyn smiled and squeezed his hand as he disapparated, pulling her and Sherlock with him. They spun through darkness until finally landing on soft grass. Sherlock barked, unhappy at the sensation, but instantly began sniffing the grass.

“Wow.” Evelyn breathed, looking around. “I was right. You are a mountain man.”

It was night, but she could make out a forest around her. A road led to a collection of lights, a village, in one direction and deeper into the trees in the other. They had apparated in front of a small cabin with light shining through the windows.

Sherlock strained on his leash and Evelyn unhooked his collar. He bolted across the grass, then paused and rolled in it. Charlie laughed and pushed open the cabin door. “Come in.”

Evelyn shuffled inside after him, looking around. The place was cozy, decorated in years of Molly’s knitted blankets and pillows. Piles of papers sat on the dining room table and a small bookshelf was mostly empty due to the books beings left just about anywhere else. A small kitchenette looked mostly unused.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess.” he said, looking around and only now noticing how it looked. “I...er...got distracted.”

Evelyn smiled. “It’s alright. Looks lived in.”

Charlie watched her carefully as she looked in a mirror hanging on the wall and changed her hair color back to normal. She caught his reflection. “What?”

He approached and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You alright?”

“Yeah. They patched me up in about three seconds.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She sighed and let her body conform to his. “I don’t know, Charlie. Someone tried to kill me, and everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

He kissed her shoulder, not wanting to respond. He didn’t want to believe that she was losing her mind, falling into paranoia. But he didn’t want to believe someone had tried to kill her either.

Evelyn dealt with her pain and sorrow by drinking. Everyone may be right to think she had finally snapped.

But Charlie couldn’t imagine her being wrong about something like this.

But she didn’t ask what he thought. She just yawned. “We should try to get Sherlock inside. I need to take the charm off his coat.”

“I’ll get him.” Charlie volunteered. “You go get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

She nodded and pulled away from him, then walked into the dark bedroom. Charlie went to the door and called for Sherlock, who tore himself away from a rabbit hole and dashed into the house. Charlie took a minute to scratch his ears, convince him to sit, and return his coat to its natural black. He put a bowl of water on the floor, and a plate of some leftover meat loaf, then waved his wand at the lights and followed Evelyn into the bedroom.

She was already asleep, her clothes piled on the floor, curled under the light quilt and sheets. Charlie stripped off his own clothes and climbed in next her her, listening to Sherlock finish his meal and then jump onto the bed to sleep near their feet. Charlie gently wrapped an arm around Evelyn, trying not to wake her, craving the touch of her smooth warm skin.

The war was over. So why was this still happening?

~*~

Charlie woke up early the next morning. Evelyn was moving about in her sleep, kicking the blankets off.

“Not him.” she muttered. “Get away. Not him.”

Charlie bit his lip and watched her, unwilling to wake her. Make her remember the dream.

She quieted again and light crept into the room. It hit her body and threw shadows, making her skin glow wherever it touched. It offset the black bra and red knickers she had on.

Charlie slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans, then left the room. When he returned, he had a sketchpad and charcoal in his hand, Sherlock trailing behind him. He conjured a chair and sat, then began to draw.

Evelyn slowly woke up, noticing her mouth tasted sour. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked in the bright sunlight, trying to focus her sight. The unfamiliar but comfortable room came into focus.

Charlie was sitting in a chair, balancing a sketch pad on his knees. His hand flew across the page, and when Evelyn realized he was drawing her, she didn’t move.

He looked up to see the aquamarine jewels watching him. “Good morning. Don’t move.”

She chuckled. “What-cha doing there, Weasley?”

“Trying to capture a mythical beast on paper. Unfortunately, it seems she is subject to night terrors and moves in her sleep.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Tell me about this beast. Is she dangerous?”

“Oh, very. Most dangerous thing around. And we’ve got dragons here.”

Evelyn glowed. She loved it when Charlie told her she was dangerous. She believed it was the highest compliment a man could pay a woman, especially when the man wasn’t at all afraid of her for it.

“Hm.” Evelyn sighed. “Must be hideous then.”

“Mmm, no. More like a siren. Beautiful and bewitching as she takes your soul.”

“Terrifying. Anything I should know incase I run into one? Weaknesses, perhaps?”

“Well, she loves shagging.”

Evelyn gave up on staying still and hurled a pillow at him. Charlie roared with laughter and caught the second pillow she threw. He abandoned his sketch pad and lay with her, pinning her wrists above her head and kissing her mouth. His bare chest pressed to her skin.

“Good morning.” he repeated.

“Good morning.” she smiled. “How long did I sleep?”

“Probably not long enough. It’s seven-thirty.”

She hummed and he pressed a kiss to her clavicle. Oh, yes. She was the only one who loved sex.

“This beast of yours,” she continued, and he pulled down one of her hands to his face. She watched his piercing blue eyes. “Does she know the Great Bloody Hog of London?”

He laughed into the inside of her wrist. When he recovered, his eyes still glimmered with laughter. “You know, I think she’s the one who started that rumor in the first place.”

Evelyn snuggled closer to him. “You're warm.”

He sighed. “As much as I want to stay here with you all day, I have to go to work.”

“Sucks.”

Charlie kissed the side of her head and pulled himself out of bed to shower. Evelyn pulled the blankets back over herself and dozed back off. Sherlock jumped on the bed and lay down across his mistress’ legs.

Charlie finished showering and came back into the bedroom, smiling slightly at Evelyn and Sherlock piled on the bed. She slowly dragged open her eyes, then shut them again. Sherlock watched as he crossed the room and dug through his dresser.

Charlie quickly dressed and rubbed a towel through his hair, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes. Sherlock panted and thumped his tail against the bed, then smiled as Charlie rubbed the top of his head.

“I know the circumstances aren’t great,” Charlie said, “but I’m glad you’re here.”

Evelyn smiled and opened her eyes again. “Me too.”

“You could come to work with me, if you wanted.” he offered. “Meet the dragons. Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you ride one.”

Evelyn giggled and stretched. “No, it’s okay. I’ll find something to do. What’s in town?”

“They’ve got some little shops. A really good bakery. And a few gypsies, try to avoid them.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. “They’re...look, gypsies live off of begging, stealing, and selling it back to you. They don’t integrate into society, they don’t teach their children anything but Romani. We don’t have as much of a problem with them in England but here...just, don’t give them any money, and don’t buy anything from them. The ministry here has a whole bloody office dedicated to dealing with cursed objects they sell to wizards and muggles alike.”

Evelyn nodded slowly.

Charlie finished tying his work boots and leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Evelyn waited until he left to sit up and and smile at Sherlock. “What are we going to do today?” she asked.

He smiled at her and lolled onto his back. Evelyn scratched his chest and thought about the events of the past few weeks. It was all connected. She knew it. But how, and why.

She reached onto the floor for Charlie’s undershirt from the day before and pulled it on. If working couldn’t distract her, maybe being here with Charlie could. At least try to organize her mind.

Getting out of England, being with Charlie. She felt safe.

Evelyn swung her legs out of bed. “Come on Sherlock. Let’s find breakfast.”

~*~

Evelyn and Sherlock decided to explore the village. Evelyn loved the simpleness of it. The way the villagers went about their daily business, oblivious or charmed to ignore the dragons hidden in the mountains not ten kilometers away. She smiled at kindergarteners walking in a line and holding a rope.

Evelyn selected fresh vegetables from a shop, and went next door to purchase cuts of beef that looked like they were taken from the animal that morning. She followed the smell of fresh bread to the bakery and couldn’t resist buying a fresh loaf.

All the vendors were friendly, switching to rudimental English as soon as it was clear she didn’t speak Romanian. “You see Charlie?” they all asked. “Charlie good boy. So nice.” Everyone knew Charlie, it seemed. And everyone was delighted with the patient dog who sat outside to wait for his mistress. The butcher wrapped up a free soup bone for Sherlock, the marrow still bright red in the middle.

Even though her basket was already full, Evelyn stopped at a grocer’s and looked at the display of flowers outside the shop. A little placard read 5 Leu. The owner came to the door. “Salut!” he said cheerfully.

Evelyn smiled. “Salut.”

Evelyn selected a bouquet of orange, yellow and pink flowers, and held out the correct money to the owner. As he turned to put away the money, a middle aged woman ambled up.

“Fortune? Fortune?” she asked. “Tell your fortune.”

A Gypsy. Roma. Thinking about everything Charlie had warned her about, Evelyn didn’t stop the woman as she approached. “Read palms. Tell fortune. Many children, da?”

Sherlock started to growl low as the woman got closer and closer. Evelyn saw that the woman had bad glaucoma, her eyes covered in milky film.

“Okay.” Evelyn said slowly.

The Roma took Evelyn’s small pale hand in her own wrinkled brown one. She stared into Evelyn’s bright blue eyes through her own cloudy ones, feeling across her palm. She stopped feeling at the deep scar across Evelyn’s love line, the scar from the wine glasses that just never managed to heal right. Magic didn’t solve all problems.

“What this?”

“I fell. On glass.”

She folded Evelyn’s fingers back onto her own palm.

“You break your own heart.”

The shop keeper ran out of his store and started yelling at the Roma in Romanian, who of course only spoke Romani. Evelyn turned away and followed Sherlock down the street, shivering in the warm summer sun.

You break your own heart.