First Place - Angst

"Hey Charlie!" Anya called out as she entered the common tent.

Charlie waved her over to where he, Harry, Dieter, and Jean Pierre were eating dinner, "What's up?"

Harry had three full days left before the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross Station for Hogsmeade Station. It had taken several arguments but he finally convinced his father, and then Dumbledore, to let him ride the train. It was his last year and it wouldn't be the same without the trip to Hogwarts with his friends.

"Reginald's sick," Anya answered with an apologetic glance towards Harry.

The handlers worked in teams for the most part, rotating the various duties including responsibility for any unforeseen incidents. Charlie was on the emergency team that day with Anya, Jeremy, and Renee. Harry could feel a wave of indecision coming from Charlie and knew he was thinking of who might be able to cover for him.

"Don't worry about it," Harry leaned towards him. "I'm sure I can find a way to amuse myself for one night."

The dancing lessons had continued the second night and Harry learned how to waltz, fox trot, and even tango. The last had taken longest to teach, as Harry had burst out laughing several times and been overly dramatic. Charlie eventually had distracted Harry with wandering hands and described the tango as 'vertical sex'. After that they danced with a growing heat and the lesson ended when they stopped mid-turn and started removing each others' clothes.

An arm casually fell onto his shoulders and Jean Pierre offered his opinion, as always, "That is right Charlie. 'Arry is a big boy. He will survive one night without you mon ami."

Jean Pierre wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Dieter laughed. Charlie lifted a single eyebrow but didn't argue. He just leaned in towards Harry, batted Jean Pierre's arm away, and pulled Harry's lips towards his. The kiss started soft and tender but quickly turned passionate.

Harry's breath was heavy as Charlie strode out of the tent with Anya whistling and slapping him on the back. When he realized how many people were in the tent and had seen that kiss he flushed. Until then no one had witnessed any affectionate displays between them. Charlie's almost public declaration brought back all the questions Harry had and he looked down, away from all the eyes on him. He did not like that many people knowing about his personal life.

"You are confused 'Arry," Jean Pierre whispered in his ear. "Do not waste your time troubling yourself. You will know what you feel when it is time. You may have seen more death than anyone here, but we have seen more life. Be patient love."

Harry looked at the Frenchman, a little mystified, until he remembered that everyone there had empathy to some degree. He remembered Charlie's words from the previous spring. Not actually displaying whatever was going on between Harry and Charlie was only denying the physical evidence to what Charlie's fellow handlers already knew. From the combination of his troubles with Charlie and his extreme distaste for crowds Harry had been keeping his barriers up as high as possible and almost forgot he was surrounded by other empaths.

"So," Harry forced himself to relax and let in some of the feelings around him. Everyone there was actually happy. There was a bit of worry, most likely about the war, but the people around him were mostly comfortable and friendly. "How do you propose I entertain myself?"

Dieter grinned and Jean Pierre winked, and Harry was reminded of the night he had first been introduced to drinking the summer before. The tent was clearing out as the handlers went about their duties and went home for the night after a long day. The other members of Jean Pierre and Dieter's team joined them and Dieter got up from the table, returning floating a tray with shot glasses and several bottles containing a variety of liquors. Erin pulled a deck of cards from her pocket and Jean Pierre started explaining to Harry and gesturing. He picked up the rules of poker fairly quickly. This group had a reputation as the rowdiest of the handlers and Harry had no objections to their attempts to corrupt him.

With a groan, Harry woke to a skull splitting headache, the kind that he had always associated with his scar. Only this one did not have an epicenter on his forehead, but seemed to throb out from his entire head. He blinked his eyes and ran his tongue over his lips. There was no moisture.

"Drink this," a quiet and gentle voice said.

Harry lifted his head, cursing himself the entire time and eventually made out Charlie's features. He tried to sit up but dizziness attacked him and his stomach lurched. Charlie helped him up slowly and held a glass to his lips. The creamy liquid soothed Harry the instant it touched his tongue. His stomach settled and his head stopped pounding. A breath freshening charm rid Harry of the old sock taste in his mouth. Charlie gave him his glasses, unaware that Harry didn't actually need them.

"Thanks," Harry smiled at Charlie. "How many bludgers hit me?"

Charlie laughed and kissed his forehead, "How much of last night do you remember?"

"Um... Kari had a full house, jacks over nines," Harry tried to remember the evening in question but after the game of strip poker, where Harry had only lost his shirt and gotten quite an eyeful from Dieter and Francesca... there were shots of whiskey with Jean Pierre and a still half-naked Dieter... and then he was at a loss. He had no idea how he had gotten to bed. "There was poker... and whiskey... and... er..."

Charlie kissed him on the mouth this time and traced a single finger down his bare back. The redhead pulled his lips away and circled his finger on Harry's right hip, "You don't remember this, then?"

Harry had no idea what Charlie was talking about... and then he felt something moving, tickling him. His eyes widened. It felt like something was not on, but in his skin.

He yelped and jumped off the bed, Charlie laughing. Harry practically ran into the bathroom and was shocked by his reflection. His hair was even messier than normal, though he hadn't thought that possible, and he had slept in his jeans, unzipped and hanging precariously low on his hips. What was surprising was on the spot Charlie had rubbed.

The dragon reminded him of the images of Viking graffiti he had seen in his primary school history textbook. Its coloring was that of a Welsh Green, each scale a sparkling emerald in varying shades of the jewel tone, though the color faded towards the edge of the scale and some skin tone showed. Its body alone was perhaps one inch tall with its wings folded in and it was about six inches from snout to tail. The wings stretched out impressively and the dragon let out a jet of flame that actually looked like fire and wrapped around his side. It even felt warm.

Harry hadn't noticed Charlie come into the bathroom behind him, intent as he was on his new body art, until his head was brought around for another, deeper kiss.

"I like it," Charlie whispered in a voice that made Harry forget all about the tattoo and think only about ripping Charlie's clothes off.

"Good," Harry kissed Charlie back forcefully and began unbuttoning his shirt, "I think it's permanent."

"You need a shower," Charlie said as he nibbled on Harry's ear, "and so do I."

"I'm not about to argue with that," Harry gasped as Charlie trailed his tongue down to a sensitive spot on Harry's neck and bit gently.

The shower started with only a flick of Harry's hand. It needed no time for the water to heat up but they were delayed by the pauses as their clothing was removed. Neither wanted to break the hungry kiss to remove Charlie's undershirt and Harry gathered the presence of mind to banish it to the bedroom.

They staggered into the spray of hot water. As they clung to each other Harry felt warmth, from the water, from Charlie. It surrounded him and penetrated him and all he could think of was that he wanted that warmth, wanted that feeling to become permanent. It grew into an inferno and consumed him, swept him away.

Harry hardly felt his back press up against the cold tiled wall of the shower, or his legs draw up and wrap around Charlie's waist. He was aware of the moment they joined, a sense of completion and rightness. Charlie's hands gripping him, supporting his weight, burned into his flesh. His own hands ran through Charlie's hair and over his back. Their mouths were constantly occupied, tasting each other of releasing sounds that defied definition.

When he reached the zenith of pleasure Harry was consumed, mind, body, every sense he had lost in the flame. He was breathless and limp as Charlie lowered his feet to the floor. Their chests rose and fell in unison, breathing heavily as they leaned against the wall and stole little lazy kisses.

A sense of loss so overwhelming Harry thought he might cry pervaded him when the physical contact between them ended. His head fell forwards and he brought his hands up to meet it.

"Hey," Charlie whispered, caressing his cheek and ducking his head down for another kiss.

The meeting of lips and tongues chased away to emptiness, but the memory of it, harsh and frightening, remained. As they washed away the evidence of their separate long nights and their pre-shower activities Harry's mind couldn't help but recall that sense of loss and emptiness and what it might all mean.

Charlie had the day off, as the emergency team was expected to catch up on sleep after caring for the sick dragon, but he spent the day walking around the compound with Harry instead. They ate a picnic lunch leaning against Eliza and Charlie took a nap in the sun, surrounded by a few of Harry's dragon siblings.

"I got some good advice," Harry told Eliza, referring to a part of the night before that he could actually remember. "I'll let things run their course, and I won't analyze every little thing. When I know what I feel, I'll know."

Eliza let out a soft sound that was something like a purr. Harry could tell she was happy, whatever it was. He looked over to where Charlie was sleeping, stretched out on his back, and smiled. He genuinely cared for Charlie even if it was nothing more than that. After the prophecy had been settled he could see if there was more.

"I have this book..." Harry started telling Eliza about the Slytherin book Voldemort had given his father. It had been in the Highlands Cottage and Harry packed it with his things. He had a strong feeling that there was something in that book he needed.

Eliza watched him from one eye. She listened attentively and Harry sat on the ground in his meditation posture, eventually letting his voice trail off and his mind quiet.

He was flying again, even faster than he had on Eliza's back. He passed over a small pond and looking down saw a flash of brilliant red with just a hint of gold.

Harry smiled. That was all the confirmation he needed. He opened his eyes and saw Eliza staring at him. Harry looked into her eye and stood up. He walked to her and stroked the scales on her chin. She shifted to lie on her side and Harry was amazed that she could move that way without her head moving at all.

With one claw Eliza made an incision in her chest, just long enough for the crimson blood, a deeper red that the blood of humans, to blossom up and coat the claw.

Harry's rib cage expanded as much as it could as he breathed deeply and he and Eliza kept eye contact. She moved the claw to his arm and Harry had a momentary flash of fear. He almost called out and woke Charlie but his senses told him that Eliza was feeling only caring and protective concern for him. He let her press her claw into his forearm and it suddenly felt like something much colder than ice was racing through his veins.

He fell to his knees, shivering and grasping himself. The wound closed almost as quickly as it had opened and Eliza nudged him with her snout. Harry stumbled over to where Charlie slept and collapsed beside him. His siblings all nuzzled him and keened softly. They were caring and hopeful. The sun beat down on Harry and warmed him.

Harry nestled up against Charlie and an arm sleepily pulled him close. Charlie's body heat swept through him and Harry relaxed. His eyesight sharpened for a moment before he fell asleep and he saw Eliza flying away. His siblings curled around them and settled down for their own naps.

"Harry! Damn it Harry, wake up!" Charlie's almost panicking voice broke through the fog of sleep and Harry stretched. "Thank Merlin."

"What's wrong?" Harry looked up at Charlie. His eyes were reddened and he was shaking. All the dragons were gone.

"What's wrong?" Charlie repeated. He had been kneeling over Harry and rested back on his heels. "I woke up ten minutes ago to find you barely breathing! You feel... harder... and cooler."

Harry twisted his neck and felt the vertebrae crack. He sat up and noticed it was getting dark but he could still see perfectly fine, "I'm fine. I...," Harry stopped. He suddenly remembered the oddest thing and looked down at his arm. There was a faint mark there that he could have sworn wasn't there that morning.

"Harry?" Charlie sounded, and felt, a little frightened.

"I think I just discovered the thirteenth use for dragon blood," Harry said dully, in a bit of shock.

"The thirteenth...," Charlie blinked and took Harry's hands in his. He checked Harry's pulse and felt his forehead. "What in Merlin's name happened while I was sleeping?"

"Eliza... she...," Harry felt the mark, a round spot, no more than an inch in diameter, but darker than the rest of skin, not white like a scar. "There's dragon blood in me."

"Dragon blood," Charlie said plainly, as if to confirm what he heard.

Harry nodded, "Dragon blood."

"Fuck Harry," Charlie ran his hands over his face. "Nothing like this has ever happened before... never."

"Welcome to my life," Harry snorted irreverently.

"We have to tell Albus and Severus Harry," Charlie looked a bit guilty. "We can't keep something like this from them."

Harry nodded. He didn't really like it but he accepted it, "We have two days left Charlie. I'll tell them right after the feast. If something happens to me before then they can hear it from you, but if we tell them now Dad will insist I go back for Poppy to check me."

"Okay," Charlie agreed, "but we're going to the infirmary and you're getting fully examined first."

Jeremy had been checking the potions supplies when they walked into the first aid tent, which was luckily empty otherwise, "Everything okay?"

"Probably," Charlie said evasively. "Just do me a favor and run some diagnostic spells on Harry."

Jeremy shrugged and gestured to a bed, "Sure. Have a seat."

Harry sat down and leaned back against the pillows, his legs crossed at the ankle. Jeremy waved his wand over Harry several times, speaking under his breath and looking mildly confused now and then. It took at least fifteen minutes to complete the tests and Jeremy stood back with his arms crossed over his chest, examining Harry with his brow wrinkled in thought.

"What?" Harry asked, feeling like he was some oddity on display behind glass.

"You're perfectly healthy," Jeremy said slowly, "but your temperature is a bit lower than normal and your heart rate is slower. The tests are reading it as normal and I ran them twice to make sure. What did you do?"

"Um," Harry looked to Charlie for help.

"Don't answer," Charlie said strongly, then looked to his perplexed teammate. "Sorry Jer, but it's probably better if you didn't know."

Jeremy looked like he didn't believe Charlie for a second but nodded anyway, "Right. So I'll just forget this ever happened?"

Charlie nodded, "That would be a good idea."

"Some day I want to hear all your stories," Jeremy walked away, shaking his head.

Harry and Charlie walked back to Charlie's tent quietly. Harry felt strange, more alert than before. It was like all his senses, even his empathy, had been kicked up a notch.

"Curse me," Harry spoke for the first time since leaving the first aid tent once the door to Charlie's home was closed.

"What?" Charlie turned and looked at Harry as though he didn't believe what he had heard.

"Nothing bad," Harry expounded, "just jelly legs or the tickling hex or something like that. Curse me."

Charlie cocked his head slightly and his eyes tried to pierce Harry's thoughts. He slowly raised his wand and Harry nodded, leaving his hands at his sides.

Rictumsempra!

The curse, light blue, shot out of Charlie's wand and hit Harry, but careened off him and knocked over a small table. Harry waved his hand and the table righted itself, the picture frame that had broken in the fall fixing itself and settling back in its place.

"Try something stronger," Harry said feeling overwhelmed again. "Try to stun me and don't hold back."

Charlie just nodded. Stupefy! Harry could feel the power Charlie had put into the curse. The red light shot towards him, but didn't impact. It bounced off and singed the arm of the couch. Another wave of Harry's hand fixed the damage.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He could feel Charlie approaching, could smell his unique scent. Charlie walked towards him slowly and hesitantly, as though unsure of his intentions. Harry felt like his skin was suddenly too tight for his body, like he wanted to crawl out of it and lash out. He could feel his magic building up and not matter how hard he tried it wasn't backing down. It would break out. It would...

"Shh," Charlie reached him and put one hand on his waist. The other hand smoothed back his hair.

Harry stepped towards him and entered the comfort of his arms, "I don't think I can take any more Charlie."

Calm, peacefulness, ease washed over him, projected from Charlie. Harry soaked them up, pulling at the source, needing more. Charlie gasped, but tightened his hold on Harry and whispered to him as he strengthened his projection.

Harry closed his eyes and opened himself up to the calming presence. He let the rubbing on his back soothe his taught muscles. His uncontrollable magic was at bay again, dormant until the next time he truly lost all control. His mind slipped into the meditative state again and Harry saw the red and gold threads of his magic, only with an element added. A smaller, thinner, green line joined the others, bright and vibrant, wrapping around the other two and protecting them.

Slowly the anxiety and pressure faded and Charlie led Harry into the bedroom. They changed and got into bed, forgoing dinner. Harry curled up with Charlie spooned close behind him, the rhythm of his heartbeat against Harry's back, lulling him to sleep.

Finding the Key - Chapter 12

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