Harry Potter and all characters, settings and situations in this story is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and all others involved.
Experience Cooperation Between Magical Creatures
For centuries wizards had been trying to understand dragons. The largest centre for this work was Vladisoas in Transylvania. The wizard village which had grown up round it was known by the same name. It was full of small, whitewashed cottages like Charlie's to accommodate the Dragon Research, Regulation and Control Operatives, or Dragon Keepers as they preferred to call themselves. All of the other buildings in some way supported the work of the centre or the lifestyles of its employees.
Charlie strolled through the cobbled streets with his arm proudly and protectively over Draco's shoulders. They stopped at the tavern for lunch where Charlie was welcomed back and Draco was introduced. By the time they left, Charlie had solemnly promised a dozen people that he would be back at work the following morning.
Mountains rose all around them and crisp sunlight made the white buildings glow. They approached Charlie's place the back way, crossing a scented meadow and stepping over a clear brook.
Charlie took his broomstick out of a small shed by the back door. He was struck by how little he knew the young man he had transplanted half-way across Europe when he asked, "Do you fly?"
Draco was eyeing the broomstick as he answered with a grin, "Are you kidding? I was House Seeker."
"Cool! So was I! I was Quidditch Captain actually."
"So was I."
"We won the House Cup."
"Yeah, well you weren't playing against Harry Wunderkind Potter," Draco was joking, of course, but he could never say that name without tasting poison.
"He's good?" Charlie asked, having missed the warning signs.
"Is there anything he doesn't excel at? Oh, playing by the same rules as everyone else, maybe. And keeping his temper. And not being a festering sore in my flesh," Draco's eyes were aflame with passion now, his voice a hissing whisper.
"Not keen on him then?" Charlie asked, chuckling to try and break the mood. Draco swallowed and composed himself. Charlie turned his attention to the broomstick while he did so and then said regretfully, "I've only got one stick."
"I got a Firebolt Mega Twelve for my birthday," Draco answered, the love and longing for it obvious in his voice. He caught Charlie's worried expression, though, and added, "But it's the only thing I miss from home. We'll just have to take turns."
"We used to 'two-up' when we were kids. You're only skinny …"
Draco moved up behind Charlie to wrap his arms round his chest and said, "But you're all muscle. The broomstick wouldn't take it." He stroked his boyfriend's muscular arms and shoulders.
The first time Charlie came in from work injured, Draco was horrified. Charlie's thigh had been gored and he limped, bleeding, into their home. He'd been back at work less than a week. Draco got Charlie into a chair and pulled himself together enough to bathe, dress and apply dittany to the wound. Then he'd hugged his lover and kissed him better.
"Comes with the job," Charlie had said, shrugging, then changed the subject asking, "What's in the parcel?"
"Owl came with it a couple of hours ago," Draco answered. "From some lawyer. Apparently Severus Snape left me them in his Will."
Charlie hobbled over to the coffee table, partly to prove to Draco that he could, and lifted the brown paper. There was a pile of dusty old books under it.
"Nice!" he exclaimed, sarcastically.
"They're really interesting, actually. It's his collection of Potions texts. He thought I could use them," Draco's voice cracked. Charlie swallowed any comments he might have made about their old teacher and went back to hug some more instead.
Four days later, Charlie came home carrying one of his fingers. Draco held back tears as he put it back on, asking, "Does it hurt much?"
Charlie winced and sweated but, again, his answer was a shrug and "Comes with the job." Which is what he said the next week when his back was scratched to ribbons. Two days later he was sent home early because his hair had caught fire. His ear and cheek were badly burnt.
He got as far as "Comes with the …" when Draco smacked his good cheek. Hard.
"Don't say it!" Draco yelled. "Stop saying 'it comes with the job' and start being more damn careful." He turned to the orange coloured Burn-Healing paste he was mixing, to hide his face as added more quietly, "Don't you dare fucking die on me, Charlie Weasley."
Charlie moved closer and put a gentle arm round Draco's waist. He said, softly, "I won't die, I promise. I am careful. I only take the risks I can handle. I patch up. I'm used to it. I'm not just careful, I'm also bloody good. I've got enough experience to know where the dangers are. I avoid them. I'm sorry I've been so casual. It's the Dragon Keeper thing, you're supposed to act cool and make light of everything. I promise to stay alive. Especially now I've got so much to live for." He kissed Draco's cheek. Draco wiped his face and started painting the paste onto the bandage strips.
The next time Charlie was injured, he limped home warily. But Draco cheerfully reduced the swelling in his knee and asked him whether the rest of his team were as accident-prone as he was.
"Most of them are worse," Charlie answered defensively and Draco grinned hugely.
"But there's no Potion Maker in the village is there? Where do you get your cures from?" Draco interrogated.
"Mostly owl order, some home-made. What are you thinking?"
"There's nothing in your lease to stop someone operating a business out of the cottage, is there?" Draco checked, full of enthusiasm.
"Won't you need to finish your N.E.W.Ts first?" Charlie asked doubtfully.
"Oh, I've done all the studying and thanks to Professor Snape I can look up anything I don't know. And how would anyone round here find out that I don't have any actual qualifications?" Draco asked.
"I love it when you're all devious and Slytherin," Charlie growled. He grabbed Draco's left hand and pulled. Draco ended up on his lap and Charlie put Draco's forearm to his mouth. Draco wasn't even aware of it, but when his skin flushed at the height of his arousal, a faint, white scar became visible there: a skull and a snake. Charlie planned to see it again very soon.
8, Vipertooth Passage,
Vladisoas.
14th November 1998
Dear Mrs Weasley,
You will probably be surprised to hear from me. I completely understand why you have less than fond feelings towards me given the rôle I have played in separating you from your son, as well as past enmities between our two families. I fully expect to receive no reply to this letter and shall not blame you at all if this is the case.
As you know, it is Charlie's birthday next month and I would like to bake him a birthday cake. I write to ask what his favourite cake is and whether you could send me a recipe for it. We can get most ingredients here but the only recipes I can find are in Romanian and I am still learning the basics of the language.
I have little domestic experience, having been raised with House Elves. I have been working from a cook book which I found here and which Charlie says you gave him when he left home. I am able to follow most of the recipes - it's quite like making potions - but my techniques could do with some improvement. I would be grateful for advice from someone as skilled as you.
If I do not hear from you then I will know that you are still too angry. I never meant to take your son away from you and I am sorry that things have turned out the way that they have,
Yours in hope,
Draco L Malfoy.