July 2001

Charlie wasn't expected - he'd wanted it to be a surprise.

It was Harry's twenty-first, after all. It was special.

After arriving in London late in the afternoon he'd headed straight across the city to the flat where Harry lived with Ron. It seemed, when he arrived, that the party had already started. Charlie knocked twice, and when that yielded no answer, rang the doorbell.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Harry yelled.

"Not yet you aren't!" someone else yelled after him, causing a round of raucous laughter.

Harry was looking over his shoulder as he pulled the door open, back into the flat and the source of the noise. He was smiling as he turned back to his guest, and then his eyes lit up. Charlie watched with amusement as Harry tried to play his cool-as-a-cucumber trick then let it drop and flung himself into Charlie's arms.

"You're here," Harry mumbled into Charlie's neck.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Harry pulled back but left his arms draped over Charlie's shoulders. "I can't believe it."

"I brought presents. And beer." He held up a six pack of the Romanian beer Harry liked when he came to visit.

"The come in."

There were both people Charlie recognised and those he didn't dotted around the flat, and several of his brothers who gave him some good natured ribbing for turning up for Harry's birthday when he wasn't able to get home for his own brother's in March. It wasn't his fault; one of the hatchlings had been abandoned by its mother and Charlie was, at that point, hand rearing it.

The loud, and slightly drunk group fell out of the flat around midnight to head to a club which was rumoured to be owned by Harry Potter himself, although it was run by one Seamus Finnigan.

"Is it a gay bar?" Charlie asked Hermione as they made the short walk to the bar.

"Not exactly," she said, delicately sliding her arm in his for balance as she walked along in very un-Hermione like shoes. "But it's being run by Seamus and Harry, so there are definite homosexual vibes."

"Are they... involved?"

"Harry and Seamus?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, god, Charlie," she said on a laugh. "I really hope not. But I wouldn't put it past either of them." She clammed up then, suddenly. "Did I say too much?"

"Not at all," he assured her. "Harry and I have a very... open relationship. Unlike my brother and your good self." He tapped the engagement ring Hermione had been wearing since her own twenty-first birthday. She blushed prettily.

"We're going to have a winter wedding."

"I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

Arriving at the club, their group cut straight to the front of the line. "Will you be able to get home, do you think?" Hermione asked as Charlie helped her out of her coat.

"For the wedding? Of course."

"Good." Hermione smiled, and stretched up to kiss him lightly on his cheek. "Go find Harry. He'll want to dance with you, you know."

"I might just do that. Have a good night, Hermione."

The club was dark and loud, with bright, pulsing lights and a long bar. Charlie liked it immediately and sought out the birthday boy who was sat on the end of the bar, sipping Moet from the bottle. He raised the champagne in a toast and set it back down on his knee, as if to bring attention to the soft, black leather trousers that he was wearing. It wasn't necessary. Charlie had already noticed.

"Hey stud, wanna dance?" Harry called as Charlie approached.

Charlie held out his hand and waited for Harry to take it. When their fingers tangled, Harry's were slightly cold from the bottle of champagne.

A/N: More shameless Queer as Folk stealing.
I ain't even mad.