QL round 3. I'm the Harpies Captain. So many thanks to my other Quidditch mates for beta-ing.
For LSS, using the prompts (AU) red string of fate, (object) chair, and (weather) sunshine.
For OTP bootcamp with the prompt ridiculous.
Charlie sits at a table, sipping his coffee and waiting quietly. He's a little too antsy to wait much longer. Just before the agreed time, his brother walks into the shop.
Bill's hair is still as long as ever and the feather earring dangles from one ear. He glances at him, nods, and then heads to order his own drink.
He pulls out the chair to sit when Charlie stands.
"Do you mind walking?" Charlie questions. "I don't think I can sit still if I wanted to."
Bill pushes the chair back in and motions for Charlie to lead the way. Charlie throws his empty cup away before exiting. He squints against the sunshine when they exit. It wasn't this bright earlier, he thinks ruefully.
Bill doesn't ask anything. He walks quietly next to him, occasionally sipping on his drink. That's what Charlie likes the most about him - he can take his time explaining a situation.
They've reached the edge of the Reserve. Charlie takes Bill's hand and Apparates them to the top of the nearest mountain overlooking the Reserve. The wave of nausea doesn't make him hunch over, but he takes a long swallow of Bill's drink. Bill is grinning at him as he takes it back.
"How do you and Fleur do it?" Charlie asks.
He watches as his brother turns toward the Reserve, admiring the view. "It's difficult," he admits, "but not impossible. It helps that both of us are string-blind."
Sometimes, it amazes Charlie that Bill always just knows what Charlie is talking about. "Don't you...ever worry that either of you could meet the person at the other end of the string at any moment?" He winces at how harsh it sounds.
Bill claps his free hand on his shoulder. "Honestly? I did worry at first. When we weren't sure what we were feeling or if it was going to work. Now, I don't because I love her and she loves me. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters."
Charlie frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"You know that these ridiculous strings," he says, holding up his left hand for Charlie, "doesn't automatically equal happily ever after. It doesn't mean that you'll be happy with whoever it is. A relationship takes time and effort and love to work. You don't just magically get that when you meet the person at the other end of your string."
He barely moves as Bill talks. He watches the dragons fly and dive and show off from the distance. He wants to believe Bill so badly that he can taste it, but he remembers the girls at Hogwarts giggling over their strings and the boys pretending that they didn't care. He can't shake that feeling.
"You're interested in someone who can probably see their string," Bill concludes. His gaze flickers across Charlie's face, gauging his reaction. "And you're worried that they're going to meet their soulmate and decide that you're not worth it."
There must be something across his face because his brother sighs, but doesn't say anything. "It doesn't matter," Charlie finally mumbles, breaking the silence.
Bill grabs ahold of his left arm and pulls it out of his pocket. He brings Charlie's hand up in front of him. All Charlie can see is his hand; there is no red string that extends from it like the majority of other people. He's stringless. "This doesn't mean anything," Bill declares. "A string doesn't define our ability to love or to be loved. Do you think that Fleur and I don't love each other?"
"No!" Charlie exclaims, shocked. "Why would I think that?"
His brother gives him a smile. "That's the point," he asserts. "We love each other despite what our strings tell us. And you deserve love, regardless of if you have a string that leads to somebody or no string at all. Got that?"
"Yeah," Charlie agrees, softly. There's still a large part of his brain that is screaming at him that Bill is wrong, that he's meant to be alone.
Satisfied with his answer, Bill releases his hold on Charlie's wrist. He smirks. "So...who is it?"
Charlie shoves his hand back into his pocket. "Draco Malfoy," he answers.
Bill whistles. "The rest of the family won't like that."
"I never said I was going to pursue him," Charlie says defensively.
His brother laughs, his body shaking with the force of it. After a few long moments, it dies off and Bill looks more somber. "We both know that you wouldn't have asked me to come all this way to prod me about the strings if you weren't considering dating him," he points out.
Charlie glares, unable to argue.
Bill taps his wrist, looking at the time. "I have to get going. I told Fleur I would be back to put Victoire down for a nap." He wraps his arm around Charlie tightly. He pulls back but doesn't let go. "Just because Draco has a soulmate out there doesn't mean anything. You should remember most Pureblood families are experts at not pursuing their soulmates."
Charlie barely gets his surprise under control when Bill pulls out his wand. "Thanks, Bill. Give Vicki and Fleur my love."
Bill nods, smiling, and disappears. Charlie sits down on the edge of the cliff and considers what Bill has said and what he wants. What his brother said makes sense in theory, but Draco can see the strings. Maybe it would be a little different if he was string-blind, if they both were.
It would be so easy to love the blond. But there's a part of Charlie that is terrified that Draco will meet his soulmate and they would be better suited for him. He can't shake his mum telling him when he was little, "The strings lead us to the one person who compliments us best in the world."
He doesn't Apparate to the bottom of the mountain until the sun has long sank beneath the horizon. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks home, his stomach queasy.
It takes Charlie a week to come to a decision. He knows that the blond is most likely in the Nursery at this hour. A smile crosses his face when he sees: "small things that can still kill you" painted across the sign. There's several young dragons, including Ironbellies, inside. He spots the three Horntails that hatched during the last mating season.
Draco looks up at him from where he is inspecting one of the Fireballs. It is sneezing fire every few moments and Charlie can see the poor thing is missing scales. Charlie doesn't hesitate with running a finger down the dragon's spine in comfort.
"I think it's time to send this one to the Healers," Draco whispers, frowning. The worry that lines his face makes Charlie want to kiss it away. "It was just the sneezing yesterday, but her scales are starting to fall out now. I would chalk it up to her getting her adult scales if she wasn't sneezing fire constantly."
Charlie nods somberly. There's a high mortality rate among young dragons. "I've got time. I'll stay with them while you take her to the Medical Wing."
He looks like he's going to argue. But he doesn't. He turns on his heels and disappears before returning with a syringe. Wordlessly, Charlie keeps the dragon's attention as Draco sedates her. Charlie watches as he disappears through the door with Leote. And he's left alone with ten young dragons, all coming into their independence and their real fire breaths.
By the time that Draco returns with his replacement in tow, Charlie has extinguished at least seven fires. There's a new burn blossoming across the back of his hand where Charlie didn't get out of the way quick enough. There are claw marks through his shirt where one of the youngest had decided the best place was laying across Charlie's shoulders. There might be scratch marks, but he isn't sure.
Charlie falls into step with Draco as they leave the Nursery. He needs to head home to heal himself before his shift starts. Draco walks next to him, quietly, towards the Apparation designation area. When it comes time for them to part ways, Charlie inhales sharply. It's now or never. "Can we talk at my place?"
Draco doesn't answer. He simply bypasses the designation, heading towards Charlie's flat. He is thankful for the walk because he's had his fill of Apparation for the week.
It's not a long walk; one of the reasons why he picked it. He unlocks the door, throws his keys in the bowl on the entryway table, and makes his way towards the kitchen. "Tea?"
"Sure," Draco answers.
Realization hits Charlie. It's the first time the blond has been to his flat. "Make yourself comfortable in the living room. Tea will be done shortly," he calls.
He uses magic to make cup of tea for Draco, since the other man doesn't drink coffee, and a cup of coffee for himself. His mother would disapprove of using magic to make the drinks because she thinks there's nothing better than making tea the proper way. But if he did it the proper way, he'd lose his nerve.
When he brings the drinks into the living room, he sees Draco staring at the pictures on his wall. He puts the tea down and takes a seat in his favorite armchair. "It's not much, but it's home."
The blond turns around at the sound of Charlie's voice. He quietly takes a seat. There's something that flickers across Draco's face, but it's gone before he can identify it.
"Why'd you ask me here?"
"I want to date you," Charlie says bluntly. His stomach is in knots. "And I figured that it would be best to ask in private."
Draco looks surprised. "Why?"
Charlie frowns, confused. "Can you be more specific?"
"Why do you want to date me?" he clarifies. "You don't date anyone who has a string, even if they are string-blind."
Charlie snorts. He wouldn't be surprised if the whole Reserve knew that. "That sounds an awful lot like you have a reason why you shouldn't say yes," he notices.
"It's common knowledge," Draco points out, not confirming or deny his accusation. "I can see my string."
"I know," Charlie replies. He knows what he wants to say, but the words just won't come to him. His eyes roam Draco's face and then down to his string. "I just….I'm tired of letting the string dictate who I care about."
Surprise colors Draco's face. Then it fades as quickly as it appears. "Still doesn't explain why."
Charlie pushes himself up and starts to pace, his nerves finally getting the better of him. He runs his hand through his hair. "Why? Because you're clever and can take as good as you get. You are caring. You get the hours and the emergencies." He closes his eyes. "I don't know. I just had this overpowering urge to kiss you when you were taking care of Eliseo months ago and then again today with Leote."
There's a long silence. Then, "And if I didn't feel the same way?"
He feels his heart sink. "We pretend that this conversation never happened and hope that both of us are professional enough not to let it interfere with our work relationship," he answers, stopping his pacing. "It's the reason that I chose to do it in private."
Draco stands. Charlie doesn't bother to track his movements, too lost in his own thoughts. Then there's a hand touching his shoulder. His eyes snap to meet Draco's. He has to tilt up slightly because of the difference in height.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Draco whispers.
Before Charlie can ask the questions on the tip of his tongue, Draco presses his lips to his and he loses all capability to think. The blond's lips are soft against his own. As quickly as his lips are there, they vanish. Charlie tries to chase them before realizing his eyes slipped shut.
"I thought…" Charlie trails off, unable to form any thoughts aloud.
Draco laughs. "I was curious what you would expect if my answer was no."
"That was unnecessary," Charlie accuses, glaring. When Draco doesn't look fazed, he asks, "Will you stay for dinner? I've been told that I'm a good cook."
"I will," the blond answers.
"We can talk over dinner about this, if you want," he offers. "I like to be on the same page."
"You mean whether or not I plan on pursuing my soulmate," Draco translates. Charlie can only nod at that. "For the record, I already met her. Maybe if the war never happened, we might be good for each other, but we're not. It was her who suggested the Reserve when I decided to leave England."
He can feel all the fears and worries drain out of him hearing this. "So there's-"
"No," Draco cuts across him. He snorts. "Salazar, no. She's a good friend, but neither of us are interested in a romantic relationship. She has a boyfriend, and I was…"
Charlie grins as he trails off, picking up on what the blond was implying. "You were what? Interested in me?" he teases.
Draco glares. "I can go home," he threatens.
"You won't," he retorts, grinning. Then he becomes more serious. "Besides, this isn't the only thing we should talk about if we want to date. It's one of the bigger things, but not everything. Like PDA and work schedules."
Draco nods. Charlie gives him a smile as he excuses himself to start making dinner. He'll have to send an owl to Bill, thanking him. He would have never asked if it wasn't for his brother. He would've buried it so far down that maybe he could've ignore it, too afraid of caring about someone with a string that would never lead to him.
This is better. Maybe Bill was right; the strings don't define how a person loves.