Title: Dragon Seekers
Author: Magicallioness
Rating: M
Warning(s): no beta. Also, this is slash people, meaning male/male. Don't like, don't read.
Beta: none
Word count: 4.946 and counting
Disclaimer: Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue.
Author's note: This is being written as a request for Midnight_Birth. It was meant to be for Slashfest, but I missed that deadline by a mile, due to personal circumstances. The story's not quite finished yet. Please R&R anyway.
Summary: Ginny is leaving for yet another training camp. Because it's mating season and he would love to see the dragons, Harry asks to spend the week in Romenia with Charlie. When he gets up there however, things quickly get out of hand.
~~~Dragon-seekers~~~
Harry Potter whistled a tune between his teeth as he chopped up the last part of an onion and then let the pieces slide into a frying pan. Years of being forced to cook for the Dursleys had left him with considerable skill and now that he didn't have to prepare the same breakfast every morning and didn't have to listen to his uncle Vernon going on about how awful it tasted, Harry found he quite enjoyed cooking. A smile crept across his face, creating a dimple in his left cheek, as Harry imagined Molly Weasley shaking her head at him still cooking the Muggle way. But he preferred it like this. It was more hands-on and Harry liked to think it tasted better too.
The sizzling sound the two pork chops made when he put them in the pan must've drowned out the whoosh of the fireplace, because Harry never heard Ginny enter their flat. He smiled as two strong, but definitely feminine arms encircled his waist and soft red curls tickled the side of his face.
"You know, it's not nice to whistle the Chudley Cannons tune with a Harpy in the room," Ginny chided playfully as she kissed his cheek.
"Hey Gin, I didn't hear you enter," Harry answered as he turned the pork chops. It was also an excuse of sorts. Even if his girlfriend was a Harpy, he'd never give up on his Cannons. Ginny knew and she didn't mind, but Harry wouldn't have whistled that tune if he had known she was in the room regardless. Ginny waved away his apology and started peeking into the pans that were simmering away on the stove.
"What's for dinner?" she wanted to know. Harry laughed as he shooed her out of the kitchen, wafting his hand in front of his face.
"You'll see, after you take a shower. You smell," he grinned as Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well, I'm sorry I don't sit in a clean office behind a clean desk all day, mister Auror, sir," she called from the bathroom and Harry – back at the stove – shook his head, a smile plastered onto his face.
That smile faltered a little when they were doing the dishes though. The plate Harry was drying vibrated as he put a bit to much magic in the spell at the news his girlfriend presented.
"Another training camp, Gin? How long will you be gone this time?" he tried not to sound disappointed, but it was the third time in as many months that the Holyhead Harpies would be training abroad and Harry didn't like it at all. Ginny bowed her head a little.
"I know and I'm sorry Harry. We all yelled at coach for it, but she wouldn't budge. It's only a week though and we're heading to The Netherlands, so it's not far away either," Ginny spoke softly and Harry could clearly hear the regret in her voice; she really didn't want to go. He spelled the last of the pans back into the cupboards and turned to put his arm around his girlfriend stomach.
"It's alright, Gin. I understand, it's just that I really miss you when you're gone," he explained. Ginny leaned her head on his shoulder and the deep red curls, no longer tamed by an elastic band, fanned out across Harry's back, momentarily giving him a Weasley hairdo.
"I miss you too," Ginny whispered, before turning into him and claiming his mouth. Harry pulled her tight against his chest as his tongue sought out the familiar but still pleasant taste of her mouth.
"I love you, Gin," he said, after coming up for air. Ginny grinned at him.
"Proof it," she told him and then giggled as Harry easily picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.
"Yes, ma'am," was all he said, before lowering her onto the bed and covering her body with his own.
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"I know! You've been wanting to watch the dragons for ages and it's mating season. Why don't you ask Charlie if you can spend the week in Romania with him?" Ginny suddenly sat up in bed and beamed a smile at Harry. He returned her smile as he pulled her back down into his arms.
"You know, that's not such a bad idea," he mumbled, running the thought over in his mind. Ginny lightly swatted him on the arm before laying her head back down on his chest and swinging her right leg over Harry's.
"Of course it's not a bad idea, I came up with it, didn't I?" she said, trying to sound insulted, but failing miserably at it. Harry chuckled and stroked her hair.
"Yes dear," he hummed into Ginny's hair and felt her smile against his bare chest.
"Good boy," she muttered, but Harry didn't hear: he was already asleep.
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"Of course you're welcome to stay with me for the week, Harry. I assume you have no problem with sleeping in a tent?" Charlie Weasley's head spoke from Harry's fireplace. Harry laughed.
"Charlie, compared to a Muggle tent, Wizarding camping is like a four star hotel, I'll be fine," he told his girlfriend's brother. The head in the fireplace frowned.
"Yeah, I heard those Muggle tents are actually as small as they look," Charlie confessed: "Anyway, I'll make arrangements for a Portkey here next Saturday then. Around noon?"
"Sounds good to me. See you on Saturday, Charlie," Harry nodded. Charlie winked at him before his face sank bank into the soot of the fireplace.
"See ya Saturday, boy," and before Harry could protest, the fireplace roared once and the fire turned back to its normal orangey colour.
"Everything set with Charlie?" Ginny wanted to know as she poked her head around the doorway. She had been talking to her brother before Harry came in and had left to go packing while both men talked.
"He called me boy again," Harry grumbled as he sat down on the couch. Ginny's sparkling laugh washed over him and made him smile.
"He just likes to tease you, Harry. Besides," she told him as she slid into his lap: "I know you're not a boy."
Harry put an arm around her waist and pecked her on the mouth.
"Good to know," he grinned before reaching for the remote control. Ginny settled in his lap and spelled some snacks from the kitchen to go with their movie night. Ever since the first time Harry took her to the Muggle movies she had been entranced by them. And Ginny couldn't for the life of her understand why there was no equivalent for them in the Wizarding world. So naturally, she asked Harry to buy them a television when they moved together. Harry had agreed on the terms that she would actually use it and learn how to do so by herself. When he returned later that day, he'd brought not only a television, but also a dvd player and they'd agreed he'd teach her how to use it one night a week. Thus, movie night was born.
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Charlie Weasley was many things: outgoing, fun loving, braver than most, but patient he was definitely not. So when Harry still hadn't arrived at a quarter passed noon, he started pacing in front of the pine tree Harry would be arriving near to. He froze in his tracks when an angry voice ricocheted through the trees.
"Charlie! Where the fuck are you?" Charlie recognised the voice immediately. He slapped a hand to his forehead as he made his way to the tree line.
"Damn, wrong pine tree", he muttered as he weaved his way through the younger trees at the edge of the forest. "Harry? I'm over here!"
"Oh that's so helpful, where the hell is here?"
"Right here," Charlie answered and chuckled when his sister's boyfriend jumped almost a foot in the air at suddenly hearing his voice so close. Harry spun to face Charlie and pocked a finger into a leather-covered chest.
"You think that's funny? I've been wandering around these woods for half an hour!" he snapped. Charlie noticed his hair was even more messed up than usual and his eyes were burning with anger. He quickly returned his attention to the conversation when he also noticed he found that quite attractive.
"Twenty minutes actually and I've been waiting here just as long. I'm sorry, the transporters must've set the Portkey wrong. Come on, our tent is nearby, I'll fix you some tea, ok?" Harry just nodded, so Charlie turned around and made his way towards a grey and purple Wizarding tent.
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"So, Ginny got to The Netherlands alright?" Charlie said conversationally, as he placed two steaming mugs of tea on the kitchen table. Harry had been quiet the entire walk to the tent, but the antagonistic air had left his attitude and now seemed like a good time to strike up a conversation. Besides, Harry kept looking at him, so Charlie figured he should be the one to say something first.
"Yeah, she floo-called to say everything was fine, " Harry's tone was not unfriendly, so Charlie ventured a little further.
"I'm afraid we have no floo here. It needs a fixed place to be hooked up to. So if you want to talk to Ginny, you'll have to go into town," Harry shook his head at those words.
"Between practices, team meetings and whatever else they do up there, Ginny'll hardly have time to talk to me anyway," he told Charlie.
"In that case, lets see if we can get you some leather," the red head decided. Harry looked taken aback.
"You mean I have to wear the same outfit you do?" he asked, a little uncomfortable. Charlie grinned at him.
"Unless you want a fire-breathing dragon to burn your ass of, you'd better. Besides, protection charms catch better on leather. Come on," the second oldest Weasley slapped his own leather-clad thigh for emphasis and lead Harry to his bedroom.
Harry eyed the brown and deep red leather pants, shirts and shoes in his hands suspiciously.
"You're sure I have to wear this?" he wanted to know.
"It's for your own safety, Harry. Besides," and Charlie winked at this point: "I'm sure it'll look good on you."
But Charlie couldn't have fathomed exactly how good it looked on Harry. The scrawny boy that had started dating his sister after they graduated from Hogwarts was gone. In his place Auror training and hunting the remaining Death Eaters had created a confident young man, noticeably in the prime of his life. Strong muscles bend and flexed under tight leather as Harry pulled the ends of his trouser over his shoes. And Charlie was pretty sure he'd do anything to prevent that ass from getting burned.
"Charlie? What is it, did I put it on wrong?" Harry asked when he caught the other man staring. Charlie coughed and quickly turned around to prevent Harry from seeing how right he had put it on.
"No, no, I was just surprised to see you fit into one of my old suits," his excuse was lame and Charlie knew it. But his oxygen-deprived brain just couldn't come up with something better at the moment. Harry seemed oblivious – thank Merlin that hadn't changed since his schooldays – and followed Charlie outside.
"You wanna help me feed the dragons?" he asked Harry, while allowing the other man to catch up.
"Can I?" Harry seemed eager and Charlie couldn't keep the grin of his face. The fact that The-Boy-Who-Lived asked him for permission did wonders for his ego, he could admit that. But what really cemented his grin in place was wondering if Harry was just as eager in other departments. Charlie knew he'd have to get those thoughts out of his mind though, or it would be a very long week.
"Sure, I have a spare broom. Hang on," and with that Charlie Accioed two Firebolts.
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"Whoa, they're amazing," Harry said as he watched two Romanian Longhorns fight over a piece of meat. Charlie motioned for him to follow and took the brooms down a little ways to the left of the couple.
"See that?" he whispered as he pointed to a little dragon, hidden in the woods. "It's last years baby. I think they've another nest this year, but I haven't been able to find it yet."
Harry nodded and looked intently at the little dragon that sat hidden away in the bushes and observed his parents fighting over the pieces of meat Charlie and Harry had dropped minutes ago. Charlie padded Harry on the shoulder and moved back a little to get something out of the bag that was attached to his broom. He was rummaging around in it, when he heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a familiar rumbling sound. Charlie spun around quickly and grabbed Harry by the waist.
"Get down!" he yelled as he pulled Harry towards the ground. The roaring of fire that came overhead drowned out Harry's grunt as he impacted the forest floor. The tree behind them instantly caught fire when it got hit and Harry and Charlie dove for their brooms before scrambling out of the way. They watched a little ways off, panting and a little shocked as the tiny forest fire died down quickly.
"You okay?" Charlie wanted to know. And he couldn't help but smile at the excitement that shone in the green eyes that looked back at him.
"Yeah. Can we do that again?" Harry asked. Charlie laughed and ruffled the younger man's hair. His laugh died down though when his hand lingered there and he had to make a conscious effort not to stroke the side of Harry's cheek as he forced himself to pull his hand back to his side. Harry stared at him, but didn't say a word and Charlie, for the life of him, couldn't look away from the intensity in those eyes.
A piercing shriek broke the moment and Charlie took a look in the direction it came from.
"Uh-oh, I think we've upset the little critter and now mommy and daddy are coming to take care of the baddies. We'd better get out of here," he told Harry before mounting his broom and taking off.
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"Do you know about mating rituals, Harry?" Charlie wanted to know before eating another spoonful of Harry's potato and pumpkin mash. They'd spend the day feeding the dragons and checking the normal and magical barriers around the different parts of the reserve that were meant to keep the dragons in. Thankfully, no more staring accidents had occurred. Although at one point Harry's hand had lingered on Charlies forearm. Or at least he thought it did.
"Not much. I know they differ from species to species and that they can be quite violent, but that's about it", Harry answered. Upon returning to their tent, Charlie had asked him to cook dinner for them both, while he built a campfire. Harry's entire face had lit up when Charlie confessed that he very much liked Harry's cooking and Charlie had felt a twinge of some sort in his stomach at that. He refused to think about it too much though; it wouldn't do him any good anyway.
"It's all about the male proving he's stronger than the female. Those guys have a pretty hard time of it. First, they have to get passed any other male that has his eyes on the female of his choice and then he has to dominate her too," Charlie explained as he put his now empty plate on the grass and stretched his legs towards the fire. Harry was sitting next to him on the tree trunk he'd found weeks ago.
"Dominate?" the younger wizard wanted to know. Charlie wiggled his eyebrows at him, because that's what he always did with people when this topic came up. He was surprised to see that Harry actually blushed at his words.
"It's all about domination, boy. The male has to force the female into submission before he can take her. He has to get on top of her to do that, you know. And that's not going to happen when she keeps flying away," Charlie rolled of his practiced little speech. The blatant innuendo always got him giggles from the female visitors, the occasional male would smile suggestively at him, but he'd never seen anyone blush as furiously or looking away from him as determinedly as Harry was doing right now. Charlie coughed and then launched into an explanation of the different types of mating rituals to cover up both Harry's and his own discomfort.
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Charlie lay awake, staring at his ceiling that night and pondered about his attraction to Harry. Because as much as he did during the day to keep up appearances, now, alone in his room, he couldn't deny that he was very much attracted to his sister's boyfriend. He didn't really understand; he'd had the occasional quick fuck with visitors, both male and female and some he had even dated, but he shouldn't want to fuck Ginny's boyfriend; that was just wrong. Charlie wondered if it was just the loneliness of seeing only strangers every couple of weeks. A friendly face was rare around the reserve. Besides, he was eight years older than Harry. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sound coming from the other room.
Charlie closed his eyes when he realized it was panting, quite harsh panting. Obviously Harry didn't know that although Wizarding tents looked like furnished homes, the walls were still only made of tent fabric and without silencing spells, sounds went right through them. Ignoring the fact that his own cock seemed very pleased with this fact, Charlie turned on his side, away from the tent wall and tried to block out the sound.
But it didn't work and when Harry's moan drifted through the wall, Charlies cock twitched noticeably. The older wizard turned on his back again, realising his own breathing had sped up already. He let the hand that was resting on his stomach slip under his shirt and slowly traced it over his abs, over the slight rise of his chest muscles and onto a nipple. He heard Harry gasp as he used his index finger to rub the fleshy bud. His other hand was making lazy circles on his inner thigh, as Charlie had pulled up his knees and let his legs fall open.
He paused his ministrations on his nipple to reach for his wand and cast a silencing charm on his own room. His panting had become almost as ragged as Harry's and he didn't want the younger wizard to hear what he was hearing. He returned his hand to his chest, opting to pinch and roll his other nipple, while he allowed his other hand to trail up his thigh.
Charlie clawed through the coarse hair there to roll his balls and he gasped as one of his fingers accidentally touched his shaft. A drop of liquid on his stomach alerted him to the fact that he was leaking and, as if on cue, Harry moaned again. Charlie answered as he took hold of himself and started stroking in a slow rhythm. He didn't want to come too fast; he wanted to completely ride out Harry's wanking session. It occurred to him briefly that he probably shouldn't get himself off this way, but he was way to far gone to care.
A sheen of perspiration had formed on Charlie's chest and forehead and he licked his upper lip to get a taste of the salty liquid. He imagined it was Harry doing it and his back arched up of the bed as his movements sped up. Harry's moans became more frequent and high pitched and Charlie moved his hand from his nipple to press against the tight hole below his balls. He gasped and revelled in the torture of not knowing whether to arch into his fist or press back onto his finger.
He stilled his movements for a moment when his finger slipped inside and concentrated on getting it in as deep as possible. But the sounds from the other room pushed him on quickly; Harry's bed was squeaking. And even in his aroused state Charlie knew that indicated a rocking movement. Something Harry had no business to make, unless he was impaling himself on his own fingers. Charlie's cock twitched at that thought and he quickly wrapped his fist around it once more, making his own bed squeak by fucking both his fist and his fingers.
He felt heat pooling in his lower abdomen and knew he was close when Harry started mumbling. Charlie couldn't hear what he was saying, but judging by the tone and breathlessness of it, Harry was about to come. And he did. His breathing was blocked with an audible 'hgn', the bed stopped squeaking and Charlie needed only a couple of seconds more to cover himself in his own seed.
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"Morning Charlie! So, what are today's plans?" Charlie immediately realized last night's activities had not been a good plan as Harry's cheerful greeting send heat rushing up his neck and into his cheeks. He dropped down on the log next to Harry and attacked his breakfast with a vengeance to hide his discomfort, before answering.
"Since it's mating season, I have to keep track of which female dragons are carrying and which aren't. If you're up for it, we're doing some tests today," the redhead proceeded to explain to Harry what needed to be done as his partner seemed eager to participate in this next dangerous task.
"I have to get a blood sample. Which means shooting a magical needle into the female dragon's side. It takes damned good aim, because dragon's skin is – as you well know – very thick and nearly impenetrable. The only places the needle can break the skin is near the hip and shoulder joints where the skin is softer to allow smooth movement. The difficult and most dangerous part however, is getting the needle back out." Harry helped pack the supplies they would need during the day and Charlie froze as Harry's hand brushed against his in search of antiseptic. The Auror pulled his hand back as if burned, a slight flush rising in his cheeks, which Charlie found most endearing. He shook his head to dislodge any naughty thoughts about his sister's boyfriend and continued to tell Harry that the syringes carried a light sedative that was injected into the dragon's system before blood was drawn.
"It won't put the dragon out, just make it feel funky. If a dragon feels funky, he retreats to his lair so it's imperative to keep it in sight at all times. As soon as the dragon takes off, we follow on our brooms. One of us then has to pull the needle out while the dragons in flight." Harry's eyes winded at this and Charlie chuckled lightly when he saw fear and excitement shining in equal measures in those green depths. Harry Potter certainly had acquired a taste for danger during his fight against Voldemort and chase of the Death Eaters. Maybe the stories in the Prophet about The-Boy-Who-Lived having turned into The-Boy-Who-Risked held some truth after all. Charlie found he liked the idea, moreover because - being a bad-boy himself - his changes of getting Harry into his bed would look a lot better. The redhead almost slapped himself for those thoughts and quickly stood up to put out their campfire, warning himself to keep it together.
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He had not however, counted on seeing Harry fly up close. He'd gotten a successful shot off at a female Horntail he thought might be carrying and they were both chasing the beast at top speed, trying to get the needle out before it reached it's lair. Flattened on his broom to gain as much speed as possible, the leather outfit outlining all of his muscles, with his hair being tousled in the harsh wind and an exhilarated smile playing on his lips, Harry looked stunning. He looked so hot in fact, that Charlie had trouble keeping up, because he kept losing his concentration. He kept a close eye on the female as he closed in on Harry again, making sure the dragon hadn't noticed them following. The drugs should make her groggy enough, but adrenaline was a strange thing and Charlie was not willing to risk anything, especially not Harry.
No wonder his heart nearly stopped when the raven-haired man suddenly vanished from his sight. It took Charlie about half a minute – spend in utmost terror – to realize the fool had just done a barrel roll, moving below the dragon's belly and coming up on the other side, then breaking hard, leaving the dragon to fly off in the distance. Charlie was hovering next to Harry in seconds, ready to bite his head off for such a reckless move, when something in Harry's hand sparkled as it caught the suns rays.
"Got it!" the younger man yelled triumphantly, smiling like he'd just won a Quidditch match, which was probably what this reminded him of. Charlie shook his head in disbelieve, relieved laughter bubbling up in his chest.
"You're amazing," he told a suddenly blushing Harry. Laughing some more, Charlie thought nothing of it and directed them both back to the camp for lunch.
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As exhilarating as that morning had been, the afternoon dragged on without them even spotting a dragon. They had good fun goofing around on their brooms and chatting, or quietly sneaking through the woods to check out a possible hiding spot – at which point Charlie would often watch the way Harry moved through the forest with a catlike grace he certainly didn't have when he was a teenager. But as the day drew to a close, Charlie started to feel irritated with the small amount of blood they'd harvested.
"Look, I'll fix us dinner and then we can use the last light to look around one more time, ok?" Harry offered, noticing his friend's mood dropping considerably. Charlie shot his partner a toothy grin, before nodding thankfully and touching down next to the former Gryffindor. Harry used the potato and pumpkin mash that was left over from the previous night to prepare a hearty stew, while Charlie labeled the only blood sample they managed to get and called an owl to send it to the labs that lay just outside the reserve.
Dinner was a quiet affair as both men watched the forest burn in a deep orange glow while the sun slowly began disappearing behind the horizon. They hurriedly cleaned the campsite and got back on their brooms, to make as much use of the little light that was left as they could. It seemed their luck had returned as Charlie spotted a Horntail landing in a large clearing between two patches of forest. Leaving their brooms at the edge of the first forest and praying the dragon would stay were it was for a while, the two leather-clad figures hurried through the woods towards the clearing. They were rewarded with a perfect view of the magnificent creature as they neared the edge of the trees.