"Which way did he go?" Harry asked breathlessly, his wand out and ready.

"I don't know," a scowling man replied, his voice full of scorn. "But it shouldn't be hard to find him - follow the trail of fire and destruction."

"Right, yeah," Harry said, nodding. He kicked himself for wasting time asking stupid questions when there was a young, dangerous dragon on the loose. He needed to hurry!

A yell to his right drew his attention, and he recognised it as Longtooth's voice. He sprinted off in that direction, leaving the derisive man to shake his head at the stupidity of young people, all the while attempting to put out his collection of potted plants that the dragon had set on fire.

Harry almost collided with Charlie - again - as he shot round a corner. The Weasley, who had come from the other direction, continued running, and Harry fell into step beside him.

"All righ', Harry?" he asked. Harry grunted in affirmation, not wanting to spare energy on making conversation.

"Longtooth's shout came from near the mess hall, I think," Charlie said speculatively. Harry nodded, although the gesture was lost in the momentum of his sprint. He'd thought it had come from that area too.

They were both right. Harry came to a halt, panting, on the patch of grass outside the kitchen at the sight of sparks and flames alike flying through the air - and it wasn't to the fault of the cooks. A small green dragon that Harry would guess was a baby Welsh Green (although he was going off the colour alone) was spitting small jets of flame at Longtooth. The sparks were caused by the flame rebounding off the shield charm the man had cast. He was lucky the dragon was so young; against a more mature dragon, the man would have been incinerated, ridiculously strong spell work or not.

"I've got an idea!" Harry called to Charlie, who was in the middle of shooting a spell off at the dragon.

"What is it?" Charlie called, ducking behind the corner of a building as a dragon tail whipped at where he had been standing a moment earlier. Harry winced, not wanting to imagine what would have happened if Charlie hadn't moved.

"I'll lead it to a more deserted area where it can't hurt anyone, and you and Longtooth come behind it and help me out when I get there!"

"What sort of a plan is that?" Charlie protested, but it was too late. Harry was already casting spells at the dragon and sprinting out into the open where he was a clear target. They weren't particularly powerful, and bounced harmlessly off the creature's thick hide, but it had the desired effect. Irritated, the dragon looked up from where he had Longtooth cornered and set his sights on Harry.

Really, it wasn't much of a plan at all. Unfortunately for Harry, he didn't actually realise this until he was sprinting for his life once more with a raging (if small) dragon on his heels. Every now and again he would shoot a hex over his shoulder, and his blood pounded in his ears as adrenaline fuelled his mad dash for life.

But, even though he could end up dead at any moment, he'd never felt more alive. This was what he had wanted when he'd left Britain: dangerous, mad adventures fighting something that would kill him as soon as look at him.

And sure, he could have had this as an Auror. He could have asked to be assigned to all the dangerous cases and do nothing but fieldwork. He doubted the ministry would have begrudged him; after all, it did look good for them when the headlines read 'Auror Potter captures another rising Dark Lord'.

But that wasn't what he'd wanted. He didn't want to be protecting everyone else from dangers they could only dream of; he wanted to be fighting for his own life, knowing that as long as he fought his best, it didn't matter what happened. If he died, it was on his own head - and his failure wouldn't mean the deaths of a hundred other people.

This was freedom.

"Potter!" Longtooth called. Harry looked over to the voice, before realising that the man hadn't mean for him to do that. He looked up just in time to see a large green tail whooshing at him with all the speed of a muggle race-car.

Then he felt the unpleasant sensation of being thrown backwards into something hard before it all went black.


"He's an idiot!"

"Charlie-" that was Longtooth's voice, but he was quickly cut off.

"He's a complete fruit cake!"

"Fruit cake?" that was Cathy, her voice amused and relaxed.

"Yes, a fruitcake. And a moron!"

"Maybe so," that was Longtooth again, "but yelling at his unconscious body won't help."

Harry tried to clear his throat, to let them know he was awake. His cough came out as more of a squeak. "Not…" He began, but it came out as a croak. "Not unconscious."

They turned to him - Cathy looking relieved, Charlie looking both relieved and angry, and Longtooth not looking very different from how he usually did, although he did seem strangely pale. Harry wondered if it was just the poor lighting.

"You idiot!" Charlie said, collapsing into a chair by Harry's bed. "You could have been hurt!"

"I was," Harry managed to croak out.

"Not badly, though. It could have been a lot worse," Cathy told him. "Anyway, I have to go and see to Edward. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

He would have nodded, but his head hurt when he so much as turned it. Instead he just watched her leave.

"How are you feeling?" Longtooth asked.

Harry blinked, surprised at the concerned question. "'M fine," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Harry," Charlie said, and his voice was gentler than it had been. "We're a team. We work together - you can't just go running off on your own. That's when things like this happen."

"Sorry…."

Longtooth interrupted. "I have to go now. I'll see you boys later." And then he left, without even giving either of them a chance to say goodbye.

"What's with him?" Harry asked, frowning as he tentatively tried to push himself up into some sort of sitting position. Surely it wasn't just in his imagination that Longtooth was acting a little strange.

"You worried him," Charlie said softly. "It brought back some memories."

"Memories?" Harry asked.

"Longtooth used to have a wife and a son. Now he has neither."

There was a shocked silence for a moment. "How?" Harry croaked.

"He used to be in Dumitru's position. He had a wife and child, so the office position was more suitable than one that required fieldwork, where he'd have to live on the reserve, away from his family.

"It was about three years ago. He'd come here, to the reserve, for a couple of nights - like he did every month to check that things were running smoothly. It was routine; just like every other time.

"But his son wanted to come with him. He loved Longtooth - looked up to him, and thought it was amazing that his dad got to work with dragons. Longtooth said no, not while he had to work, but maybe he'd consider bringing him here once school was out, as a sort of field trip. Longtooth had though that was the end of it."

Harry felt sick. He could see where this was going, and he didn't want to hear it, but Charlie continued. "He sneaked out at night, and he floo'd here, like he'd watched his dad do all them times. No one noticed him arrive. He went to search for his father, but he went the wrong way - right into the dragon enclosure."

Harry closed his eyes in horror. "His mother noticed he was missing later that night, but it was already too late. The body was found just before dawn.

"Longtooth and his wife were both devastated, and six month's later, she left him."

"How long ago was this?" Harry asked.

Charlie shrugged. "About five years. Ever since then, Longtooth's thrown himself into the reserve. He gave up his position so he could return to fieldwork, and hasn't spoken of the matter since."

Harry stared at the doorway that Longtooth had just left through, his face unreadable. He'd lost a lot in his time, a lot more than what most people had to bear, but he couldn't understand the pain of losing a child, especially in such a manner. And even when Ginny had left him, neither of them had resented it - it had been an opportunity to make each of them happier. His heart went out to Longtooth, who'd lost his wife to the bitterness that the loss had left behind.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. "I didn't know."

But his words were meaningless.


They'd been put on a four man roster together, sort of like a team. Usually the squads only had three people, but Cathy didn't count as a team member (apparently) - because of her "unreliability" due to Edward.

Harry reckoned that Charlie had pulled some strings - there was no way that he had ended up in a group with the only three people he'd had any sort of extended conversation with.

He did wonder, though, why Charlie and Cathy didn't seem to get along. Well, that statement wasn't entirely true - Cathy seemed to not only like Charlie, but she appeared to be absolutely oblivious to the coldness that sometimes seeped into Charlie's voice when he spoke to her.

The other thing that worried him was that he occasionally got the idea that Cathy was flirting with him. At first he'd dismissed it as an overactive imagination, and possibly the cause of too much time without a girlfriend, but now….

He couldn't be sure, but every now and then she'd say something unexpected, or look at him in a certain way, and he'd start to wonder. But before he could think about it any further she'd be back to her normal self and Harry would be left ponder whether he was imagining things or not.

He put it out of his mind; throwing himself into his work as soon as he was deemed fit enough to get out of bed. When he wasn't working on assigned tasks, he spent his time with either Charlie or Longtooth, or he helped Cathy with Edward.

He learnt more about dragons from Cathy than he would have if he'd spent the next twenty years working normally at the reserve. She was like some sort of dragon psychologist - if Edward so much as twitched his left nostril, she could tell Harry exactly how he was feeling, what he wanted, and whether or not Harry should be running for his life. The latter piece of information proved to be very valuable in the months he spent helping her.

Not only was she a never-ending source of dragon knowledge, but she was also funny and entertaining, and generally a great person to be around. Whenever she went away to go hunting with Edward, he found himself counting down the days before her return.

And as for Charlie… well, Cathy's unconfirmed flirtations weren't the only reason why Harry threw himself into work. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop his heart beating that much faster when Charlie smiled at him.

Things came to a head one night after Cathy and Edward had got back from a hunt. Harry had arranged to meet Charlie in a bar near by, but had lost track of time and showed up a little (or a lot) late.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said apologetically as he noisily pulled out the bar stool next to the Weasley.

Charlie, who'd been looking a little dejected at being apparently stood up, smiled as Harry sat down. "What took you so long?" he asked.

"Cathy just got back. I didn't realise how late it was."

A frown crossed Charlie's face at the mention of Cathy, and Harry noticed the change in his demeanour immediately. "What?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Charlie muttered.

Harry frowned. Clearly it wasn't nothing. "Do you not like Cathy or something?" he asked. "Because you don't seem to like me mentioning her."

"Or something," Charlie said, and turned away from Harry to order them both a drink.

Harry waited until the barkeeper had left before confronting Charlie again. "What's your problem with her?"

Charlie shrugged, and was quiet for a moment. Then he said in a rush, "She's going to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Yeah. She's flirting with you now, and then you'll start sleeping together and eventually you'll end up in love with her, and she'll tell you that it's going too fast and she thinks you both should take a break from one another. A break that doesn't end. She's done it before."

He said it fast, and not in a very articulate manner. Harry got the idea that Charlie had been mulling over those words for a while.

"She's done it to you?" Harry asked. That would explain why Charlie seemed to dislike her.

"No," Charlie said. "To others - some friends of mine. You're like a little brother to me, Harry. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Harry would wonder later why those words felt like a slap in the face. But for now, he was more concerned with not making it seem as though he felt like Charlie had just stabbed him in the chest. He turned robotically and buried himself in his drink to spare himself from answering.

The night held no more interest for Harry, but he muddled his way through by pretending nothing was wrong. After about half an hour of awkward silence, in which Harry couldn't bring himself to do anything but pretend he was okay, they ran - almost literally - into some friends of Charlie's, who challenged them to a game of darts. One match turned into twenty, and in the end it went on so late that Harry could plead tiredness and not seem unreasonable.

He apparated straight home, and probably would have collapsed right there on the floor if his bed hadn't been a convenient half a step away. Instead he fell into that, too numb to care that he was still fully clothed.

A little brother. He should have known. After all, he was younger than most of Charlie's brothers, and best friends with Ron. If he'd married Ginny like everyone thought he would, then he would have been Charlie's brother-in-law. Of course, it was a no-brainer that the other man would still see him as family rather than….

Rather than what? Honestly, what did Harry really want Charlie to see him as? They were friends - even if he thought that Harry was just like his kid brother, they were still mates. So did that mean Harry wanted to be more than friends?

He really didn't know anymore.


Charlie watched Harry leave, a bitter look on his face. Harry hadn't really been with it all night, and it was easy to see that his mind was on something else. Charlie didn't have to be a mind reader to know what that something was.

He hadn't had a problem with Cathy before now, before Harry came to the reserve. He'd even go so far as to say that he liked her - she had a more fixed view on reality than most people, and her dragons came first; Charlie could relate to that. But now… now, he couldn't stand the sight of her.

He knew there was something going on between the two of them, and he knew that it was the reason he disliked her. He also knew, although he was less happy to admit it, that it wasn't because he loved Harry like a little brother. And most of all, it wasn't caring or protectiveness for Harry that was the root of his dislike for Cathy - it was his jealousy of her.

He didn't want to think on it anymore. Harry was his brother's best friend and his little sister's ex, not to mention the saviour of the wizarding world. He should never be entertaining such notions about Harry.

But he couldn't help but entertain the notions. He'd tried not to, he really had. However, it was hopeless. And now all that was left to do was ignore the strange attraction he felt towards the younger man, and pretend that he though of Harry as family, and nothing more.

What could possibly go wrong?