For Lo. This is completely and utterly your fault, so of course I have to dedicate it to you.
Thanks to Amber and Bex for the beta and the help!
Charlie is six years old when he decides that he's going to work with dragons. His uncles, Fabian and Gideon, sweep into the Burrow with grins and presents. They grin mischievously as they hand them each their own miniature dragon. Uncle Gideon explains what they are and how to handle them gently.
He sits on the floor in the living room, miniature dragon crawling up his arm as he laughs. This dragon has dark green scales that are brilliant contrast to the golden horns. His older brother doesn't react beyond watching curiously as the bright red dragon clawing its way up his shirt to his shoulder.
His mum lets out a short screech, high and shrill, as she drops the vase of flowers her brothers brought her. It draws all their attention to the doorway. It also startles the miniature dragons, whose first instinct is breathe fire, which in turn causes both Bill and Charlie to cry out.
Within a few moments, the dragons are taken away by Uncle Fabian and Molly starts to tend to their wounds. Her eyes are comforting when she looks at Charlie but she holds herself with anger. "What were you thinking giving them real dragons?"
"We didn't think they'd blow actual fire," Uncle Fabian answers, giving Molly a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck.
Charlie watches as his mum opens and closes her mouth around a silent answer. She shakes her head and returns her attention to the burns on his chest that don't really hurt anymore. "I swear to everything holy, you will take those dragons back to where you got them and return with more appropriate gifts."
Uncle Gideon, who found his arms full of their younger brother, Percy, starts to speak when Charlie folds his arms across his chest, aggravating the burns and making his mum sigh aspirated, and pouts almost angrily, as he says, "I want my dragon."
His mum looks to his uncles and then back at him. She answers him softly, "We don't have the ability to provide for these dragons, dear."
"Why not?"
Her eyes flicker back to her brothers, again, as if she's looking for help with the answer. She opens her mouth to say something when Uncle Gideon frees a hand to pat his head. "Your mum's right; you don't have what it takes to properly take care of miniature dragons. We shouldn't have given you them and we're sorry about that; we didn't think it through. We'll get you boys something else instead. But look at this way, kiddo: you can always work with dragons when you're older."
He lights up at that. "Really?"
"Really," he confirms.
Charlie, despite not wanting to give up his dragon, allows his uncles to take them. One day, he's going to tame dragons; it makes giving the green-scaled dragon up a little easier.
"What's the red string that connects you and Dad?" he asks, his curiosity finally getting the best of him. He's wondered about this since he can remember, but he always thought his mum would think he's too young to fully understand. But he's seven now; surely he'll be able to understand the meaning of the strings?
His dad is already out the door, and Charlie can't help but notice the way the string moves around like every other day—first towards the Apparation zone at the end of the road, then it moves directly behind his mum, before settling more towards the right.
She dries her hands and comes to sit at the table with him, her stomach protruding. Percy and Bill have wandered off, maybe to read, while Fred and George have taken the freedom and ran. Not even their mum's calls of, "Don't run in the house," slows them down.
"You see them?"
He nods, pointing behind him. "Yours goes off that way. But when Dad is around, it shrinks."
She gives him a soft smile, explaining, "There was an old Chinese legend many years ago that believes that the red string on your finger leads you to the person you're going to marry—the red string of marriage they called it. Only not everyone sees it. Over the centuries, most Muggles have lost all ability to see the strings, and even wizards are too."
"But I don't want to get married," he cuts in, looking down at the red string attached to his left ring finger. He doesn't want a spouse; he wants to work with dragons.
"You don't have to," she assures him, patting his hand. "People have found over the years that the strings lead to people who will love you unconditionally. Maybe you marry them, maybe you don't, which is why most now just refer to them as red string of fate. You'll meet the person at the end of your string one day, and they'll love you, but it doesn't mean that that person is always right for you."
"But it was right for you and Dad," he protests.
She smiles at him, soft and warm. "Sometimes it gets it right, and others it doesn't. You'll know when the time comes if they're meant to be there for a time or if it's meant to be forever."
She seems to understand that he needs time to go over the new information. She pats his hand one last time before she goes to pick George out of his high chair and then Fred. After a while, he pushes thoughts about soulmates from his mind and helps his mother prepare lunch.
His mum sits on the edge of his bed. He hasn't said anything since he woke up, trembling with frustration and pain as he realized he was presenting. As an omega. Bill had muttered something about getting her and left the room quickly and stayed away. She hasn't forced him to talk. Instead, she cards her fingers through his tangled hair gently, comfortingly, like she used to do when he was younger and couldn't sleep.
Her eyes are soft as she looks at him. He doesn't have to tell her he's upset that he's an omega; she just knows. His world just shifted its axis overnight and he doesn't know how to keep his footing. His life plans never included being an omega. He thought he would be a beta, like his father; he's never had the quiet command that Bill had long before he presented as an alpha so he knew that wasn't a possibility. Still, there had been a tiny part of him that had hoped he would be, hoped he would be anything but an omega.
"You know, dear," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "being an omega doesn't mean your father and I aren't still proud of you. Because we are so proud of you and nothing can change that."
He inhales sharply. He doesn't know how his mum just knows what is bothering him, but she has a knack for it. He sounds petulant when he says, "I don't want to be an omega."
She pulls her hand away, causing him to look at her. "I'm not going to lie, it's going to be tough dealing the discrimination, but I have no doubt that you are going to rise above it. You're going to do whatever you put your mind to because I know you're not going to let something like a secondary gender stop you. That's not the person you are."
She runs her hand through his hair one last time. "Just try to get some sleep, okay? I'll check back in on you later."
And like that, Charlie is left with his mum's words and a body that's betraying him.
He sits across from his Head of House, determination lining his face. He's been waiting for career advice since he was six; there's absolutely nothing that is going to get in his way, least of all his secondary gender.
"Well, Mr Weasley, Dragon Taming is extremely dangerous, and therefore their training is physically taxing," Professor McGonagall says evenly when he informs her he wants to be a Tamer. "However, they don't discriminate on their employees' gender, secondary or otherwise. They only require that you can withstand their training."
He grins at that. There had been a small part of himself that kept saying that an omega could never Tame, but now he can eliminate them for good. "Brilliant."
Her edge of her lips fight a smile. "You don't have to finish schooling as long as you're a capable wizard. However, I do recommend you do. It will only help you."
"I wasn't planning on leaving until I became Quidditch Captain," he says, winking at her. She gives him an unimpressed look at that.
"I would recommend Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts at the very least. Transfiguration wouldn't be a bad choice either to continue. You'll need at an E on your O.W.L.s for all of them to continue on," she says, as if he hadn't spoke.
Charlie nods. "I'd like to continue with Care of Magical Creatures as well."
"Professor Kettleburn only requires an A to continue on to N.E.W.T. level," McGonagall informs him. "I also suggest flying as much as possible. From what former students have told me, there is a lot of flying involved with Taming."
He grins widely, getting up and heading for the door. He pauses, turns around, and says, "Thank you, Professor."
He spends the first few weeks he's at the Reserve waiting for the other shoe to drop. Professor McGonagall had said they don't care about designation. But Charlie's spent one year fighting for his place on the Gryffindor team just because the other Gryffindors didn't want an omega to beat other house. He spent the next trying to struggling for the other players to accept he was the Captain. Small mercies for Oliver Wood, who lived and breathed Quidditch and thought Charlie was the best Seeker; his team seemed to listen to Oliver since he's an alpha over their own omega Captain, which Charlie accredits losing the Cup to while the majority of the team claimed it was his designation that failed them.
He has yet to run into another Tamer that even mentions designations. They seem to only care about how well he flies and if he's doing anything to endanger himself or others. Paranoia, however, knots his stomach as he waits for the comments that he's sure are, undoubtedly, going to come.
Then three weeks in, he makes a mistake. He flies a little too close to the dragon and ends up being batted out of the sky be the dragon's tail. The next few minutes are a bit of blur, but he does know that another trainee, a woman with long blonde hair and a slight French accent as she says reassuring words. She pulls him up to his feet and leads him back towards the gate of the enclosure. His head spins with each step and he has the urge to puke.
One of their trainer, an older man by the name of Enric, touches down next to them after the gate's been closed. Charlie braces himself for a thorough explanation of why omegas shouldn't be Taming. Only Enric huffs out a laugh.
"You should be taken to the Infirmary," he says. "You probably have a concussion. I'm going to finish up helping Reveca feed them while Beauchene takes you. You do know where the Infirmary is, right?" When they both nod, he continues, "Then we'll go over what exactly you did wrong and how to avoid it in the future tomorrow."
Then Enric turns back towards the gate and disappears inside. Charlie stands there flabbergasted, staring at the door, until he feels the light tug on his sleeve. He allows her to lead the way, thankful for the slow speed since the world is still spinning quicker than normal. "You were expecting him to say something about you being an omega, weren't you?"
"I've been waiting for the 'omegas shouldn't be taming dragons' speech since I got here. Which is admittedly a little stupid since Professor McGonagall assured me that they didn't care about secondary genders here."
She laughs, and it reminds him of his mum. "I get that. My parents, especially my maman, doesn't like the idea of a woman taming. They weren't particularly thrilled when I came to Romania anyways. But your professor was right, it seems like they don't mind if you're an omega or, in my case, a woman."
He gives her a grin. "I suppose you're right. Which dragon are you trying to work with long term?"
"The Horntails, of course," she replies easily. "I like a challenge. You?"
"Same. The Ironbellies would be my second choice, but there's no openings for Tamers with them," Charlie answer, grinning wider. "Maybe we'll actually work together after training."
She gives him a smile. "That would be nice. Anyways, I'll leave you to this," she says, waving her hand towards the building with the large red lettering.
"Thanks, Zoelie," he calls out as she walking away.
She turns around to face him. "I prefer Zoe, if you don't mind. I'll see you tomorrow bright and early. If you're cleared by the Healers, of course." Then she turns, heading towards the Living Quarters.
As he goes inside and signs himself into the Infirmary, he thinks maybe there really won't be any discrimination here, as long as he does his job and does it well. He'd really hate if his time Taming was tainted by discrimination.
He gets a panicky letter from Percy just before his brother is due to start his sixth year. Without hesitation, he books the first portkey home that he can. He Apparates almost as soon as his feet touch the ground. He lands in front of the Burrow and takes a few moments to ensure he won't throw up. The sun is warming up late morning air pretty quickly and he knows that most of his siblings wouldn't be inside on a day as beautiful as this.
His mum lights up when he comes in. "You didn't mention a trip home!" she exclaims, pulling him in for a warm, tight hug. "I would've made you some fudge if I had known!"
A sense of nostalgia washes over him; it's the reason he doesn't home often. Homesickness makes it difficult to leave every time. He swallows thickly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It was kind of a spur of the moment decision."
"I'm guessing Percy wrote you," she says when he pulls away.
He nods. "He's in his room, right?"
She looks concerned when she answers. "Yeah, that's where he's been all summer. Even more so since he presented. If you stay for a few hours, I'll have some treats for you."
"Thanks, Mum. My portkey leaves at three," he tells her. He sees her summoning ingredients to her out the corner of his eye as he makes his way up the stairs, smiling.
He knocks on Percy's door. His younger brother's shout of, "Go away!" is muffled by the door. He knocks again and again until Percy opens the door angrily. The anger seems to drain from his body when he recognizes Charlie.
"I wasn't expecting you," Percy says, blinking owlishly.
Charlie grins. "Obviously. Are you going to invite me in or are we just going to chat on the landing?"
Percy clears his throat. Then he opens the door wider to allow room for Charlie to slip by. "Right. Yes. Come in."
He enters his younger brother's room. It's still as neat and organized as it was when Charlie still lived here. There's a lack of posters on the walls, but Percy had gotten their parents to spell them a soft orange.
Percy shuts the door and sits in his chair. He pushes his glasses up his nose. "Not that I'm not pleased that you stopped by for a visit, because I am, but why did you?"
"Your letter. It seemed like you were extremely upset," he explains, taking a seat on Percy's made bed.
"You could've just written back. That's what I was expecting you to do, after all."
Charlie rubs the back of his neck. "I know, but I really hate writing letters. Besides, I figured this should be a conversation that would be best had in person."
Percy twists his hands together. Charlie tries not to look at the split red string on his brother's ring finger, one leads to the right while the other one is leading off behind him.
"I know that being an omega isn't what you wanted, but it's not the end of the world," he says, after several long moments of near awkward silence that makes it clear his brother is in no hurry to talk.
That breaks whatever barrier Percy has put up. "I don't want to be an omega, Char. I want to be the Minister for Magic, for Merlin's sake. Who is going to listen to an omega Minister?"
Charlie snorts at the memory that his brother's outburst brings—him at fifteen hating how his body betrayed him. "You make them listen then, Perce. Nothing's going to change for omegas unless we challenge every stereotype they have of us." He searches his brother's blue eyes. "But you've never been the one to back down from something you want even when—especially when—you're at a disadvantage, so what's really bothering you about your designation?"
His brother continues to twist his hands nervously. Then he looks up. "I have a girlfriend."
"That's great!" he says. When he sees the grimace on Percy's face, he adds, "Or not. Why isn't that great?"
"What if she breaks up with me for being an omega? After all, an omega's supposed to have an alpha."
He can see the defeat in his brother's body language. He now understands the panicky letter. "Then fuck her. If she breaks up with you because your designation, she never really cared about you in the first place."
If anything his words cause Percy to curl in on himself, a feat considering his desk chair is barely big enough to fit him comfortably. His voice is soft when he says, "But I love her."
Charlie wishes that it was Bill his brother wrote to; at least Bill would have an idea what to tell Percy. He's always been too caught up in his dragons and other magical creatures to really care about dating, so he knows nothing to say that could soothe heartaches.
"Maybe she's not the one," he says, gesturing towards Percy's strings. "And I'm not saying that what you feel for her isn't real, but maybe she's not the one at the end of your strings. She could be an important lesson. It may still feel awful, but she could be a step in leading you towards the people that will truly love you unconditionally."
Percy gives him an indecipherable look. "What do you mean strings? 'People'?"
"You know, the red string that extends from your left hand," he replies slowly. Then realization washes over him. "You don't see the strings."
His brother shakes his head mutely, examining his hand as if he would magically just see the string.
Charlie scrubs a hand across his face. "Basically, they're called red strings of fate. At the end of it, is a person—or people, in your case—who will love you unconditionally. That doesn't mean that it's definitely going to be an alpha."
"Why do I have two?"
"I don't know," he answer. "I've heard it's not that uncommon, though. There's a couple of possibilities; maybe both of them are good for you, maybe one is good for you long term and the other one is what you need for a while, or maybe they are only good for a while. Mum said that you'll know if they're for a time or if they're forever."
Percy seems to uncurl at that. He gives Charlie a hopeful look. "So there's a chance that Penelope is the one?"
Charlie nods. "Just talk to her. Let her make the decision instead of making it for her."
"Thanks, Charlie."
"Mum promised me some fudge, so I'm gonna see if she's done. Are you coming?" he asks, standing up.
Percy shakes his head, turning his chair to face his desk. "I'm going to write to Penelope."
Charlie ruffles Percy hair then heads for the door. His brother's voice stops him. "Please don't tell anyone about Penelope. I don't want Fred and George to make fun of me for it."
"I won't," he promises. He closes the door behind him and heads up to his parents bedroom. He leaves a bag of galleons on the bed and leaves as quickly as he entered, then he heads towards the kitchen. His mum is still cooking by the time he comes in.
"Everything go well with Percy?" she asks when she notices him.
"Yeah, he's good now."
He spends the remaining time before his portkey leaves with his mum as she whips up some treats for him to take with him. When three comes around, it's difficult for him to say goodbye, but his dragons are in a different country. It's only when he gets home that he realizes his mum didn't fuss about his hair. His mum must've been more worried about Percy than he thought.
Charlie feels righteous anger course through his veins as he heads towards the Quidditch Pitch. He hates this, the way the officials wanted dragons for the first task. It's far too dangerous for those who don't have training, but no amount of complaining changed anything. So a dozen Tamer brought the dragons to Hogwarts. The orders for the dragons have been picked and the Hungarian Horntail is last, chosen by his youngest brother's best friend.
All three schools are heading towards the Pitch to watch, which only heightens his anger. While the first three dragons aren't as dangerous as the Horntail, none of these kids know how to handle a dragon. They are more likely to be killed than succeed and he's helping. The only thing that makes this a little better is that the Tamers who aren't looking after the dragon for the round will be watching from the stands to hopefully protect most of the students.
A touch of Zoelie's hand against his left arm is enough to bring him out of his thoughts. When he looks at her, she's looking between his left hand and something else. It's unmistakable; she's looking at his string. Charlie follows her line of sight.
His red string ends not too far in front of him. All Charlie sees is short blond hair. He can almost feel the arrogance rolling off the other person. Then the blond turns, and Charlie can see the resemblance to Lucius Malfoy from the unfortunate encounter he had with Lucius, when his dad had taken him and Bill to work while sickness overtook his younger siblings. The experience left a bad taste in his mouth, even over a decade later.
Being a Malfoy explains the arrogance. He's heard Ron rant about Draco Malfoy during infrequent dinners and visits over the past three years. The younger man is going to be an alpha if he hasn't presented, there's no doubt; there hasn't been a Malfoy that wasn't an alpha in centuries.
He watches as Malfoy looks his direction, and lets out a sigh of relief when it looks like the other man doesn't notice their string. String-blind, then. He's glad that the blond doesn't notice.
There's a small part of him that questions if the strings get it right every single time. The Malfoys are well known for their beliefs in blood purity and everything that Charlie grew up dismissing. There's also the fact that they're both males; while Charlie wants kids, he doesn't want the sex that creates them, and there is no doubt that the Malfoys will want Draco to marry a pureblood wife and have pureblood children. How could he love Charlie unconditionally, even for a short amount of time, when Charlie can never be what Draco needs?
He pull his attention away from the blond, starting towards their designated spot for the first three matches. "We should go."
Zoelie gives him a look, but doesn't protest as she follows him. "Are you ever going to tell him?"
"Definitely not now," he answers as they dodge the students of the three schools. "He's too young for me to drop the 'I know your family hates mine, but we're soulmates' on him. Besides, I doubt after today I'll ever see him again."
She frowns at him. "Why don't you consider maybe writing him, getting to know him without telling him that you're soulmates."
Charlie snorts. "Did you miss the fact that his family hates mine? It's probably the universe playing a cruel trick on me."
"I've never heard of strings getting it wrong before," she says.
"I'd rather drop this, if you don't mind, Zoe," he tells her, as they stand against the rails of the Quidditch pitch, in between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff banners.
The announcer starts to speak, cutting off whatever Zoelie was going to say. They both pull their wands out in anticipation of the first dragon. The dragon is brought in by a group of three Tamers. The crowd cheers loudly at the first glimpse of the silvery-blue Swedish Short-Snout. Charlie grips his wand tighter, keeping his eyes on Borus to make sure that he's ready if there was an attack. To his right, Zoelie matches his unease.
The only good thing this brings is that he doesn't have time to consider the fact that Draco is his soulmate.
Bill's wedding is beautiful, and he looks so happy with Fleur. Charlie stands along the outskirts of the tent and watches the two of them dance. It seems like the world ceases to exist around them. It's a bit sickening sweet.
He looks around and sees his siblings together and the friends that Bill invited, and he feels like a stranger. His siblings grew up when he wasn't there, and besides what they write him in letters, he doesn't know about their lives anymore, especially Ron and Ginny's. He's missed so much when he's not there.
He sips on his drink as his mum comes to stand next to him. When he looks at her, he still sees the evidence of her tears.
"Did this change your mind on getting married," she asks, as she observes the crowd with him.
He chuckles, remembering his eight year old self declaring he never wanted to get married. He knows that she still hopes for it because of his string. He doesn't tell her that he knows who's at the other end and that he's certain that it'll never happen. Instead, he says, "I'd have to invite Aunt Muriel. If this is how she is when it's Bill's wedding, I'd rather not see the way she is at mine. She doesn't even like me."
Molly laughs. Aunt Muriel snap her finger for another flute of champagne to be brought to her, which only furthers Charlie's point. "I didn't think so, but I wanted to make sure."
There's a long pause as the music plays. A few couples have joined Bill and Fleur on the makeshift dance floor. There's a part of him that wants what Bill has, the love that is so obvious between the two of them. But his job is dangerous and takes up most of his time.
"You are happy, right?" his mum asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Charlie smiles and nod. "Yeah, Mum, I am."
Then Molly takes that flask out of his hand and puts their drinks down on the closest table as the song changes. "Come and dance with me."
He can't deny his mum anything so he indulges her with a dance. She smiles as they spin around. He's a little clumsy; it's been a long time since his mum has pulled him into a dance. He must've been ten or eleven the last time they waltzed through the kitchen while the food was cooking, back before he thought it was embarrassing.
"Tell me what you've been doing at work."
He grins at her. He launches into a story about Henrietta and Elyria, his two favorite Horntails, and then all the other dragons at the Reserve. He doesn't even know how many songs they've been dancing to, but his mum hums at the right time and laughs at his stories.
"I'm glad you're happy, dear," she says softly when they finally stop.
He can see the sadness in her eyes. He knows how much she misses him; he hasn't really been home since Bill was injured the year before, and even then it wasn't for long. "I'll be coming home more often. Promise."
She gives him a watery smile at that. Before either of them get a chance to say anything else, Death Eaters break through their wards, and it becomes a fight.
The wind whips around him as Zoelie levitates him towards the Infirmary, only after first hitting him with a body binding spell. While he's mad about the cheap shot, he thinks it's probably fair. He avoids the Infirmary every chance he gets. If he can heal it himself, he goes home. But there's claw marks down the side of his torso that tore through his vest, and his healing knowledge begins and ends with treating bruises, burns, and minor cuts.
She checks him in and levitates him towards the directed room. Then he crash to the ground when Zoelie's concentration wavers. She swears and apologizes as she lifts him again.
She sets him down gently on the examining table and undoes her charm. Charlie glares at her. "Why you'd let me fall?"
"I saw Malfoy here, in Healer clothes. It surprised me," she explains.
Charlie frowns. It doesn't make sense. "Why would he be here?"
"I'm going to take a guess and say he's here to heal," she answers, grinning when Charlie glares. After a few moments, she says, "Do you think he knows?"
"He didn't react during the Triwizard Tournament," he says, shaking his head. "Maybe it's some coincidence."
"Like those ever really happen," she says with a snort.
Charlie's about to retort when the door opens and one of the Healers come in. For a moment, Charlie wishes that it would've been Draco, if only to see if Zoelie is right. He won't admit it, but he does still wonder why Draco's at the end of his string.
The Healer taps her wand against his arm, his blood pressure and heart rate displaying in shimmering numbers above his arm. She then offers him a pain potion, which he takes as quickly as possible, grimacing at the taste. The vest he's wearing, along with the shirt underneath, is cut off so that she can inspect the wounds better. The Healer to poke and prod before she heal the claw marks with minimum protests from Charlie. There's four new jagged red-purple lines across his torso to add to his ever-growing list of scars. When the Healer leaves, Zoelie walks him home, not trusting him alone since he's on pain potions.
If he starts going to the Infirmary for every tiny injury after that to see if Draco would be the Healer that time, well, Zoelie doesn't mention it.
It takes Charlie several times. It's to the point where the Healers have become exasperated every time he shows up in the Infirmary over minor injuries he's capable of healing. He sits on the table with burns up his right arm.
When the Healer comes in, Charlie's pleased to see that it's Draco. It's the first time in four years that Charlie's seen the other man, Daily Prophet articles notwithstanding. He's attractive, that's for sure. He's several inches taller than Charlie and his blond hair is much shorter than Charlie likes to keep his. It seems that he's lost a lot of the arrogance he once had, but he still stand pridefully. He doesn't seem to hesitate as he comes to stand in front of Charlie which he finds rather curious.
"Burns on your right arm, yes?" Draco asks as he reads Charlie's blood pressure and heart rate from the spell.
Charlie nods sheepishly, offering his arm out. This burn is something that he would usually heal himself, if only he wasn't so intrigued about Draco. "Got a little too close to Rheya today."
The blond pulls gloves on before he inspects the wound, twisting and turning Charlie's arm to get a better look at the angry red skin that covers Charlie's forearm. He summons burn salve to himself. He spreads it across the wound gently, his fingers pressing against Charlie's arm as he does. He watches as Draco works. There's determination in his face and he chews on the inside of his cheek. Charlie finds it fascinating to watch him work.
"It's best if you leave the salve on as long as possible," he says, taking a step back and pulling his gloves off. "The burn wasn't too bad, so it should heal within 48 hours."
Charlie nods. "Thank you."
He watches as Draco leaves to meet his next patient. Maybe he wrong in his assessment of Draco at the Triwizard Tournament. He thinks it's about time he figured out why Draco's his soulmate
"Are you purposefully getting injured all the time?" Draco asks.
Charlie's on his stomach on the table. The ridges of Gus hit a line straight across his back hard enough to split the skin. Zoelie had immobilized him before taking him to the Infirmary. The pain potion has done little to curb the pain, and he can feel most of what Draco is doing.
"What makes you think that?" he asks, hissing as he feels his skin knitting back together.
"Overheard some of the other Healers mention that they've seen you more in the last three months than they have since you started. It got me thinking, and well, that was the most logical deduction to make."
"It was an accident this time," he replies. He realizes immediately after he says this that he's agreeing with Draco's assessment.
The blond snorts, "So the other injuries were planned?"
Charlie hums and then immediately hisses as he feels the spell closing another wound. Then he admits, "I wanted to get to know you. It seemed like the Infirmary would be the best place to catch you."
"Right, because that doesn't sound like a stalker at all," he mutters as he moves onto the next wound.
If it didn't hurt, Charlie would've laughed. "Stalker would imply I know your routine. It's always happenstance when you come in the door."
Draco takes a step back, and Charlie takes this an invitation to turn over. It doesn't send waves of pain through his body when he tries which he counts as a win. "No Apparating or strenuous work for at least 24 hours. The wounds are closed but still be sure to keep the area clean."
Charlie nods as the instructions.
"You know you'd find out more if you'd join me for dinner," the blond says as he pulls off his gloves.
"Are you asking me on a date?" Charlie asks, flabbergasted.
Draco shrugs. "If you want it to be. It's the most practical solution; you get what you want and you're not wasting Healer's time showing up in the Infirmary with ridiculous injuries."
Charlie would feel guilty if he wasn't successful in getting what he wanted. "It's mating season, so it's a little hectic. I'm off this Thursday coming up. Will that work?"
"I think so. I can send a Patronus if it doesn't."
Charlie flashes his teeth when he smiles. He leaves as he says, "I look forward to it."
Charlie places his hand gently against Henrietta's snout. She doesn't move to dislodge his hand like she normally would; she may like Charlie the best, but she's still just adverse to human touching her as any other Horntail.
"Just one more thing. One more miracle, for me," he whispers to her as he rubs his thumb back and forth. "Just live. I know you can do it."
She gives no indication that she's heard him. He pulls his hand away to dig into the salve that's in the bucket at his feet. This would normally be a Healer's responsibility but he feels like he owes it to Henrietta to do this himself. He smooths it gently against her red hide in spirals, where the bite marks are, and Charlie is relieved to hear her make a sound of pain. It looks better than it did a few days ago, less swollen than it had been. The bite marks are healing well enough. It's up to her to fight now, and she will fight.
While being transported from the Medical Wing back to the Horntail's area, another pair of Tamers were bring in a Ridgeback. Despite their quick response, the two dragons had already attacked each other. The Ridgeback received several deep scratches from Henrietta, but had bitten her in return. Even the Healers didn't know what a dragon's venom would do to another species of dragons.
He swallows back the anger rising. He focuses on the task at hand. Henrietta is alive; she may be lethargic right now, but Charlie believes she'll make it. Since she didn't die within the first 24 hours, the Healers are optimistic that the venom won't affect another dragon as it would a human.
After he finishes with the salve, he casts a warming spell in her room. He settles down against her other side, and closes his eyes. He's exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. Really, there's no harm in closing his eyes for a few minutes; Henrietta is so warm, after all. It couldn't be more than ten or fifteen minutes before there's a Patronus comes to sit on top of his legs and one of the Tamer's voices requests assistance.
He pats Henrietta's snout again. He smiles when she huffs out hot air against his face. "I'll be back after this."
Then he ventures out in the cool air of the night. He shivers for a moment as he casts a warming spell on himself. He pulls out the broom in his pocket and removes the shrinking spell. He learned within the first year never to go anywhere without his broom; there were several Patronuses sent out for assistance and he didn't have his broom on hand then.
Charlie swings his leg over his broom and pushes off hard. When he's airborne, he immediately sees the issue. Two Fireballs are fighting within their area, even as the Tamers are trying to contain them. He heads that way as quick as his broom will allow.
He fires his own stunners and then tries to put a shield between the two when he's in range. His shield isn't powerful enough to keep them apart. He dodges the fire from one of them. A stunning spell is on his lips when suddenly he's falling. When he hits the ground, pain courses through his veins. He barely has time to consider anything else before his world melts away and unconsciousness greets him.
The first thing that he sees when he opens his eyes is Zoelie. She gives him a worried look as she pages the nurses. She helps him drink from a cup in the meantime. His memory rushes back to him.
"How's the dragons?"
"They've been healed already. The usual injuries. The eggs have already been retrieved, so it was safe to allow them back into their area," Zoelie answers.
The door opens and Draco comes walking in, pulling on gloves as he approaches Charlie. He taps his wand against Charlie's arm, reading the numbers that float above his body. There's a smirk on his face as he says, "I see you couldn't wait until tomorrow."
Charlie gives him a sheepish smile. "What's the verdict? Will I be out by tomorrow?"
Draco taps against Charlie's body. Then he takes a step back and takes off his gloves. "You had broke several bones that were vanished. It seems that the Skele-Gro regrew them. We'll keep you overnight since you just regained consciousness. But you should be out tomorrow, if all goes well."
"Perfect," Charlie declares, grinning. "We still on for tomorrow?"
Draco nods. "The Observatory, 8 p.m.."
The blond's barely out the door before Zoelie gives him an indecipherable look. "Does that mean what I think it means?"
"It's just dinner to see if this," he says, gesturing to the the string on his left hand, "is anything worth pursuing."
She smiles. "Well, you'll be happy to know that Henrietta is moving now. It's not much, but it's a start. The Healers think it'll be a while before —"
He listens to her ramble about how the Healers think Henrietta's recovery is due to her blood. He's thankful to have what she tells him about Henrietta to keep his mind off Draco and their date tomorrow.
He's released from the Infirmary with more than enough time to walk home, shower, change, and still be at the Observatory by half seven. In his decade at the Reserve, he's never actually been in the Observatory. He heads inside to get a table for them. The restaurant is just below the observation room, but windows have replaced all the walls so he can still see all of the dragons flying behind their gates.
Charlie runs his hand through his messy hair before taking a sip of the tea he ordered. There aren't very many people in the restaurant, but he doesn't seem out of place with his nicest shirt and clean trousers which is a plus. As he waits, there's a little voice in the back of his head that keeps whispering about how Draco is just toying with him until the blond sits across from him.
The server promptly brings Draco his tea, and allows them time to deliberate about their food. The conversation between them is stilted at best. As their server floats their food to them, Charlie puts down his tea.
"Why are you here?" he asks bluntly. He's not the biggest fan of small talk and his curiosity is getting the best of him, he knows, but he needs answers.
Draco puts down his fork. "Probably the same as you." When Charlie just gives him a confused look, he continues on, "I want to know why you're my soulmate."
Charlie's eyes widen. "You knew?"
The other man nods. "At the Tournament, I saw you at the end of my string. I respect the fact that you didn't say anything. It probably wouldn't have been received well even if you did. I had everything I wanted back then, except maybe being an alpha, and I lost it all. It hurt like fuck, but I'm certain that I'm going to get all of what matters most back, piece by piece. I mean, what else is there to do other than rebuilding? I just want to know if having a soulmate should be in these plans."
"I thought you would be against soulmates," Charlie says. "Especially one that's a Weasley."
"You're right; at the time, I would've been against it," Draco replies. "Now, it's not as world ending as I would've once thought."
Charlie watches as Draco finally digs into his food. He swallows around the lump in his throat, too nervous to actually want to eat. He hasn't tried dating too often—too caught up with his dragons to really care—but this conversation hasn't gotten easier since the first time he had it.
He runs his hand through his hair anxiously. "Well, you need to know upfront that I'm not like other omegas. I'm not interested in sex. At all."
"I don't foresee that being an issue," Draco tells him after he's swallowed his food. He wipes his mouth on the napkin and shrugs. "I mean sex is okay, I suppose, but I can personally live without it since I'm not too interested in it either."
A weight lifts off his chest. He's been met with, "But you're an omega" every other time he's admitted it; Draco's answer is like a fresh breath of air. Maybe this...understanding is why they're soulmates. Charlie grins at that. He scoops up some mashed potatoes and says, "So why'd you come to Romania?"
Charlie digs into his food as Draco talks. It's an easy conversation after that, knowing that there isn't any problems with him being an omega that isn't interested in sex. He's happy to see where this leads, despite knowing that he's going to have to listen to Zoelie telling him that red strings are never wrong. This is one time that he'll be happy to hear it.
MOS: Charlie, fluff/angst, soulmate
Hogwarts assignment: Sex Ed, task 3.
OTP: jagged
365: 333. Trope - OmegaVerse
Insane: 911. Trope - OmegaVerse
Auction: Draco, 7509
Couple Appreciation: (au) soulmate
Tv addict: Sherlock - (dialogue) "Just one more thing. One more miracle, for me.", (word) deduction, (occupation) Doctor/Healer
Scavenger: write a gift fic for Lo
Film festival: (word) thrilled
Character appreciation: Word: Successful
Gobstones: brown - stubbornness; accuracy - (weather) windy, power - (word) spiral, technique - (word) shiver
Creature feature: Harpy - (word) shrill
Amber's Attic: I want to grow into something none of us have ever seen before
Book club: Mr. Jacquel: (word) practical, (action) examining something, (object) scales
Showtime: Gypsies in the Wood - word set: lost, paranoia, three, mother
Days: Unicorn - write about something rare
Liza's loves: soulmate!au
Buttons: (song) Hanging by a moment [Forgetting all I'm lacking/ Completely incomplete/ I'll take your invitation/ You take all of me], (dialogue) "I think so.", (word) respect
Lyric alley: What if the one true love's the only one that you get?
Ami's audio: King Falls - (word) fall
Tv show: Tony Stonem - (character) Draco Malfoy, (dialogue) "I had everything I wanted and lost it all. Hurts like fuck. But I'm going to get it all back. Piece by piece. What else is there?", (colour) red
Lo's lowdown: Steve Rogers - write about an underdog
Bingo: 11. (location) Burrow