Fell in love with the world when I was 24 - Mountains, Lucy Spraggan

In hindsight, this had been an utterly idiotic idea. Something more reminiscent of a Gryffindor – definitely not something anyone would expect Draco Malfoy to be doing.

But then, that was exactly why he was doing this. It had been barely three months since the end of the war, and the British wizarding world hadn't been quite so quick to forget the transgressions of the Malfoy family this time around. His mother was safe, protected by her refusal to give Potter up to the Dark Lord. His father was in Azkaban – which only left him.

For all that Potter and his cohorts had stopped him from being sent to follow his father, even a blind man would have been able to see the fact that they weren't exactly happy about it. Potter had protected him to pay off his life debt to Narcissa Malfoy – after that was out of the way, he had made it quite clear that he wasn't going to waste much time thinking over the possible futures that Draco Malfoy was looking at.

He had done his part for Draco's mother, and had made it clear to both the Malfoys and the world that he didn't plan on doing anything more.

It had taken a day before the papers had started attacking him again. He had tried to deal with it, to bear it stoically like he had been taught, but even the most hardened warriors would draw a line at being pelted with sickly green spells that looked too close to Avada Kedavras for comfort every time they wandered into the public. Draco had packed his bags and left as soon as he could, refusing to look back to Britain.

No matter how far he went, he would always have access to the Malfoy vaults – his family, unlike others he knew, had known better than to let their money mix with the Dark Lord. They'd financed him, but with only a pittance of what they were actually worth – and that had been more than enough to him. He's had an idea of what he planned on doing – relaxing at the house on the French Riviera, or spending time in Spain. It would be like Malfoy Manor all over again, only with the country and his parents.

Unfortunately, his mother had decided that the end of the war meant that it was the best time for her to reinvent both herself and the Malfoy and Black names. The money was still accessible to Draco, as were the houses – but his mother had made it quite clear that if he ever expected to see anything from the Black vaults (which were still under his mother's name, the Malfoy vaults providing for his upkeep), it was time for him to change as well.

And then his newly rediscovered Aunt invited herself to the discussion, and suggested a world tour, which was apparently something that Muggles were fond of. He had accepted it easily, thinking of all the luxury hotels that he would have the chance to explore – and then the sly old lady (he was still wondering how she's landed in Ravenclaw and not Slytherin) had given him the most crucial piece of information about the whole plan.

He was expected to travel like a commoner. A commoner, with tents and things he had never heard of in his life, expected to do his own chores and cooking and-

Just the memory of it gave him shivers.

So here he was, in the middle of nowhere Europe. He didn't even know which country he was in. hopefully, his mother would be wracked with guilt at sending him out on this Merlinforsaken trip when he failed to return at the end of the year – there was no way he was going to survive this, he already knew that.

He had managed to survive the Dark Lord and a war, and was going to be done in by some foliage. It was perhaps best that he died – he wouldn't have to deal with the utter shame of it all.

"Have yeh finally gone insane, Weasley?"

Charlie laughed. "I'm perfectly sane, Edward, I can assure you of that much at least."

"Yeah well, I have my doubts on that," the other man grumbled, waving his wand in complex motions over a clutch of eggs of vivid crimson speckled with gold. "Seriously, why exactly did you volunteer to check up on the nesting mothers? You know exactly how tetchy they can get this time of the year."

"Someone has to do it, Ed. And considering the fact that everyone else who went to Hogwarts a couple of years backs seem to have gone their own ways, I'm the only one here who has any experience with forcibly separating mothers and eggs if it comes to that."

"You're always the martyr," the brunet muttered, equal amounts of irritation and fondness warring in his voice.

Charlie didn't reply, shooting him a grin instead, before disapparating. Only dragon handlers knew exactly where the nesting mothers' enclave was – and of them, only the ones going on inspection knew exactly where they had settled in any given year. there had been too many people who had called it overly paranoid, but as far as he was concerned, it was the least that could be done to protect the Longhorns, whose population was only just starting to make a comeback, after so many years of critical endangerment.

And this year, he was the only one there. The war back home had affected every part of the world, and the dragon preserve wasn't any different. There were a good number of the handlers who had either died in the war or were in Azkaban for fighting on the wrong side.

He shouldn't have been there himself. His parents had been reluctant to let him go, especially so soon after-

Well.

But then, that had also been the reason that he had insisted on leaving home. It was too difficult there, without that – those, really – cheerful smiles. It wasn't the home he had grown up in, and he couldn't bear to be there until it had become the Burrow again.

Everyone wanted to know how he was, how he was feeling over everything that had happened back home, and sometimes Charlie wondered why he had returned there in the first place. Home was unbearable – but so were the constant reminders that his co-workers insisted on giving him.

Which was another reason why he'd accepted this job. As he'd told Edward, there wasn't anyone else to do the rounds with the mothers this year, which meant that he would be guaranteed peace and quiet for some time. It was a deal that was just too hard to pass away.

"Damnit!"

Of all the things he had expected to hear out here, in the middle of nowhere filled with dragons, a cultured British voice cursing had definitely been the least of it.

He hated greenery and nature and all of that other stuff his mother and aunt had told him about before he had left on this stupid trip! Camping in the middle of nowhere was bad enough, but to have the grass leap out of the ground and wrap itself around his ankles, tripping him –

He'd had enough. He didn't care about the Black vaults anymore – they could go to that cousin of his or Potter or even the Weasleys for all he cared – he just needed to get out of the countryside and return to civilisation. All he-

"Malfoy?"

The astounded voice was enough to draw his attention away from the plant for a few moments- And then he saw the shock of red hair. If it hadn't been for the unconscious reactions to his mother's constant lectures, well – a person could learn a lot of swear words at Hogwarts.

"Weasley," he grumbled. It was just his luck – he might have successfully managed to avoid Potter, but even in the middle of Merlin knows where one of the red heads managed to find him. It was like he had been cursed to run into them at every moment in his life.

Seeing Draco Malfoy there – well that was definitely a surprise. He'd never hated him as much as Ron had, and he hadn't really had anything against him – but then, he'd left Britain right after Hogwarts and never looked back, unlike Bill. He'd never had any reason to hate the youngest of the Malfoys.

(If he was going to be objective – which, considering where they were standing, he didn't have the time to be – he might have even commented about the man' obvious attractiveness. At least, he would have done so in his head – while he didn't care if the world knew he was gay, letting a Malfoy know he was attracted to him? Stupidest thing he would ever do.)

He noticed the blades of grass around the blond's ankles from the corner of eye. A couple of quick spells took care of them. It wasn't a well-known spell – it was only used to trim the greenery in and around the preserve, which was specially grown to make the surrounding more palatable to the dragons. Regular diffindos wouldn't work, and the plant life was just as vicious as the dragons – if they had had teeth, Draco would already have been dead. As it was, if he hadn't found the other man – well, there were just some things he didn't like to think about.

"It's Charlie, by the man," he said calmly. "I'd have thought you'd have gotten confused by the amount of people you refer to by Weasley. Anyway, c'mon Malfoy," he continued, holding a hand out to Draco. "We need to get out of here – I don't know how you managed to wander onto the territory of the nesting mothers, but we really need to get out of here before they scent you. You're not trained to deal with this, and I can't protect you and fight off dragons at the same time."

Draco was gawping at him – probably wondering why a Weasley was helping him – but he wouldn't have left anyone short of Bellatrix, Dolohov, or Voldemort there, so it hadn't really been a difficult decision to make.

He stared at the hand held out to him in suspicion. As much as what he was saying was possible – Draco could vaguely remember someone saying something about the second oldest Weasley going off to work with dragons – the redhead (Charlie) was a Weasley. The idea of him helping a Malfoy like Draco was almost laughable.

But- well, he hadn't mentioned anything about the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord, or even his father. No one who had recognised him had managed to do that, no matter which country Draco went to. And the fact that it was a Weasley who was ignoring his background-

Well, this one was interesting in a way that none of his siblings (except maybe the twins – they had had some amusing pranks) had managed to be. Besides, he was definitely a lot more attractive than the rest of his family. Could almost pretend to be passable – not like Potter's lanky sidekick.

A lot of people he knew would say what he was about to do was idiotic, but then, the entire trip had been an idiotic decision. What worse could another one do?

He grinned tentatively, allowing the charm to slowly slip into it, and reached out to take the redhe- Charlie's hand.

a/n: so it isn't exactly romance, but there's the potential for it there. it's a beginning, at the very least.
i hope you like this emily - this pairing isn't exactly the easiest for me to write, considering my otp :P

i hope you guys liked it! as always, pleas don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)