A/N: Quidditch League Season Four – Seeker (Wasps) – Prompt:

it is then up to your team to decide amongst themselves who will write for what pairing prompt - no double claims as there will be enough for one each.

S.S Dragon Scars - Charlie/Harry

Harry stared into the flames, too shocked to move even as Hermione doused the wreckage with water and the fire died down into damp, glowing embers.

"I thought wizards didn't have fires," he said stupidly, staring at the broken handle of his firebolt. "I thought your houses couldn't burn down."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione bite her lip, her face twisting into sympathy. Ginny moved closer, putting an arm around him and drawing him to her. He barely felt her there at all.

"At least it was only the broom shed." Mrs Weasley's words echoed through his mind as if from a distance.

He stared, unseeing, as she waved her wand and the burnt pieces of the shed began to rearrange themselves as best they could. It was a poor effort. Behind them, the front door slammed shut as the rest of the Weasleys tumbled out of the house, staring at the sodden heap in shock and dismay. It could so easily have been the whole house. Harry knew that he should be grateful, but-

"Harry, your firebolt!" Ron yelped, pointing at the handle in horror.

Harry shrugged Ginny's arm off from his shoulder and walked away.

~oOo~

The wind raced past his ears, biting cold and exhilarating. He was flying; who could have thought such a wonderful thing existed in all the world?

The trees below melted away, become harsh earth and jagged rocks. A dragon stirred and roared, fire heating his face even though it was far below him. Blurred faces in the Quidditch stands screamed and cheered.

He dived, snatching a snitch from beneath Malfoy's nose, dodging the angry mother's flame. Fire was bad. Fire was very, very bad. It destroyed things. It took what could never be replaced. He flew away, the twigs of his Firebolt smoking, but safe.

The snitch became an egg, and he landed, rolling off the broom and landing in heap at someone's feet. He looked up to see a familiar freckled face beaming down at him.

"You did it, Harry!" Charlie roared, lifting him to his feet and spinning him around. "Youngest seeker in a century! And you didn't hurt my dragon!"

Harry took a step back, staring at his broom where it lay on the ground. He felt Charlie grow still beside him.

"Sirius gave you that broom," Charlie said sadly.

The smoking twigs began to glow, and within seconds his broom disintegrated into a pile of ash and rubble.

~oOo~

"You said yourself that there's no point getting attached to possessions!" Ginny snapped, running her hand through her hair. "You've got all of his letters that he sent you, plus the mirror, plus his house for Merlin's sake. How can you be so upset about this? I nearly lost my home. We all lost our brooms. How do you think mum and dad are going to be able to afford new ones for us?"

Harry stared at her, lips slightly parted, unable to think of a single word to say. Because it was a gift? Because he was proud of me? Because it reminds me of a time when he was free, and he was trying to make it up to me, instead of when he was locked in a prison, angry and alone?

Instead, he simply said, "You're right. I'm over-reacting."

Ginny smiled at him, her eyes softening. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to get angry. I just heard mum crying the other night. Ever since Charlie nearly got burned by that dragon, they've been a little bit tense around fire, and to think that it could have burned us all while we slept-"

Harry put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. The gentle thud of her heartbeat was calming. He counted his breaths in time with it's rhythmic thud, thud. Three beats in, three beats out. They would be alright. He'd buy them all new brooms. It wasn't like he needed anything to remind him of Sirius.

~oOo~

He skimmed the tops of the trees, reaching down to snatch the highest leaves from their branches, daring himself to lose balance and fall. He never did. It was the fastest broom he'd ever ridden. The fastest in the world.

"They'll build faster ones," Ginny called out from behind him, racing to catch up on her tattered Cleansweep. "Just get the new model next year."

He turned his face away from her, back into the wind that sent tears stinging from his eyes, and sped up. He could hear her panting from behind him as she dodged the leaves the scattered from his hands.

"Why do you need a fast broom, anyway? You're going to become an Auror."

"Maybe I've had enough of catching dark wizards," Harry muttered under his breath.

"But what else will you do?" Her voice was distant now. "The Ministry will never leave you alone. They'll always want you to fight for them."

Harry closed his eyes, fighting against the scream that threatened to tear from his throat. When he opened them again, night had fallen. In the distance streaks of dragon fire lit the sky.

"You know, we could use someone with fast reflexes out on the reservation." Charlie's voice came from beside him, thoughtful and quiet.

Harry turned his head to see Charlie leaning casually on his broom, barely a hair out of place as he kept up with Harry. His eyes fell to Charlie's broom.

Charlie noticed him looking. "Firebolt II," he said with a grin. "Fastest model this year." The grin suddenly dropped from his face, replaced with a gentle smile. "I know it will never replace the one you had, but it's wicked fast. Perfect when you're trying to calm down an angry mother." His smile was mesmerising; warm, gentle, and patient.

Harry suddenly remembered Ginny. He turned back in alarm. "I think I lost Ginny."

Charlie laughed. "She'll be fine. She's a fighter."

~oOo~

The sound of arguing reached Harry's ears.

"He's just a boy," Mrs Weasley hissed. "He can't decide on his future immediately. And he's done enough hunting for a lifetime."

"We understand that." Shacklebolt's voice was calm and persuasive. "But when he's ready, you let us know. We'll take him immediately."

Harry turned and walked away, opening the back door in a rush and nearly tripping over someone sitting on the step.

"Careful, Harry," Charlie said with a grin, reaching up to steady him. "Something happened?"

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting down and running his hand through his hair. "Just people deciding my life for me. What else is new?"

Charlie chuckled. "Only one solution for that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Run away with dragons," Charlie said, shrugging. "Nothing else for it."

Harry laughed. "Be careful. I might half do it."

Charlie eyed him curiously. Then his face turned sombre. "Listen, Harry, I'm sorry about your broom. I know it meant a lot to you."

"It's alright." Harry smiled at him, surprised to find it was genuine. "I hear the Firebolt II is meant to be pretty amazing."

Charlie nodded. "Wicked fast," he agreed, smirking.

"Perfect for calming down an angry dragon."

Charlie gave a surprised laugh. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "You'd know all about that."