First Place - Angst

While they were at Potter Manor they cast the Fidelius Charm, and Harry became the secret keeper for his ancestral manor. If he moved into Potter Manor after he graduated he would have to cast the spell again with another Secret Keeper, as the person who held the secret could not be in the secret for an extended time.

It was one of the many fine points that Harry didn't even try to understand, though Remus and Harry's mother had talked about it length. That was when everyone except Dumbledore found out that Remus had been one of the creators of the spell. Harry had made sure to tell his father and Remus where the Manor was, just in case someone other than Harry needed to get there, and so they could still talk to his mum and dad.

Tawney had been summoned, and the house elf had burst into tears the instant she saw Harry and hugged him tightly. She had been equally affectionate when greeting Snape and Remus, and had sent the whole staff of house elves up to meet their new master again. Harry dreaded Hermione finding out.

They returned to Grimmauld Place in high spirits and Harry headed directly for his grandparents to fill them in. There had been a portrait of Aaron's brother Clive there, who turned out to be an absolute quidditch fanatic. Harry made a mental note to introduce Ron and Charlie to the portrait of his great-uncle.

Aaron and Viviane had both smiled widely when Harry burst into the study where they were hanging. They hadn't known that James and Lily had put up their own portraits but they did suspect it, and had sent Harry there in hopes that he could finally meet them.

"Guess what?" Harry pulled off his jumper and wriggled out of his jeans. He put his boxers in his dirty laundry section of his bag and pulled on his pajama pants before crawling into bed where Charlie had been reading when he came in.

"You're... you're really happy," Charlie put his book aside and gave Harry his full attention. "I've never felt you this happy."

"I met my mum and dad," Harry's grin was almost making his cheeks hurt. "We found their portraits. Potter Manor is still standing and I actually own eight house elves! We sent one of them over here to help your mum."

Charlie hugged him tightly, "I'm happy for you. What were they like?"

"James isn't an arrogant idiot," Harry had been beyond relieved once his father had talked for a while. He leaned back against the pillows and sighed in contentment. "Mum is just amazing. She's like Hermione with Ginny's temper and power."

Charlie's eyebrows raised high on his forehead and he whistled, "Whoa. Remind me never to get her mad. An encyclopedic knowledge of spells and a fierce temper are a scary combination."

"You should have seen Dad and Remus when she got mad," Harry grinned, remembering. "She's just a portrait now and they still backed away."

"Dad and Remus and the headmaster gave me some time alone with them," Harry smiled at Charlie, feeling for a moment like there was no prophecy or dark lord hunting him. "I told them about you."

"What did you say?" Charlie was intrigued and Harry felt some hope from him.

Harry kissed Charlie softly, just a brush of the lips, "I told them about Romania, and the dragons. Eliza amused them greatly. I told them you were my first." I response to Charlie's amusement, "Yeah, I know, I did mention that there hasn't been anyone else either."

There was a week until classes started again on the second day of the New Year. Harry couldn't remember ever feeling as happy as he felt then, and he wanted it to last. He pressed his lips more firmly against Charlie's, and Charlie responded eagerly. They hadn't spent much time together in the past two days, as Harry wanted to give the Weasleys time on their own. He had done homework with Hermione instead.

Harry smoothed his hands over Charlie's skin. Charlie had a little more body hair than Harry did, though neither of them were very hairy anywhere other than on top of their heads. He trailed his fingers down Charlie's back, expecting to encounter a waistband, but found only skin all the way to Charlie's legs.

A grin danced across Charlie's face and he slid his own hands down into Harry's pajama pants and Harry's breath caught in his throat. He didn't know if it was his happy mood, but he had never felt more aroused than he did then.

They didn't jump right in, but spent their time, paying attention to every part of each others' bodies. Little sparks of magic jumped between them and Harry realized he was seeing just a hint of the magic in the room. He had been seeing a little of the glow around everything for weeks, encouraged by Ollivander to leave that sense somewhat open to grow accustomed to it.

Charlie licked Harry's nipple and Harry watched an arc of magic spark, jump from him to Charlie and connect their strands while they were in physical contact. Everywhere they touched their magic joined and sparked. This did not happen in normal circumstances with other people, chance encounters with strangers or even when Harry and Charlie touched at other times.

Harry flipped them over and he ran his tongue from Charlie's navel to his lips, now feeling the magical sparks, like little jolts of electricity. Harry threaded their fingers together and a tingle spread throughout his whole body. He moaned and kissed Charlie deeply.

His hands traced up Charlie's arms and Charlie's arms wrapped around him, holding their bodies pressed together. Harry moved slowly, rotating his pelvis for just a little friction.

"Harry... what are you feeling?" Charlie's voice held amazement.

Harry opened up his empathy and projected the sensation of the magic racing through them, making the hair on his arms rise on end. In return he got the warmth he always associated with Charlie, but hotter than ever.

There was a riot of color in the room, the magic of the building itself, the special wards erected for the Order, the Fidelius Charm with a hint of Albus Dumbledore in it, and the magic of all the people in the house. Harry was thankful for his lessons, or it would have overcome him. The magic of Charlie and Harry was the strongest of all at that moment, linking together and sharing.

Their skin was slick and Harry tasted salt as he sucked at a spot on Charlie's neck that drove the redhead wild. Charlie gasped and moaned in reaction and his hands kneaded the round flesh of Harry's behind.

"Do you feel it?" Harry whispered.

"Is it always so... so...?"

"No," Harry licked at Charlie's earlobe, "not always."

Their mouths met again and they kissed with a passion Harry had not felt before. Something deep inside him told him to get his shields in place, to block out the feeling, but it was too late. He wanted to feel this deeply, needed it now that he knew it was possible. Every other emotion he ever had before now seemed shallow and pale in comparison.

"Charlie," Harry breathed as teeth worried the skin at the base of his neck, one of Charlie's favorite spots on him.

Charlie's leg's bent and Harry rested in their V. He reached down and felt for Charlie's entrance, finding it hot and ready. Harry almost bit his lip but instead let the sensation wash over him, the all-consuming need. His hand directed his erection and they thrust together in one motion that Harry knew was quick but seemed to last a lifetime.

The surges that shot through his body were nearly orgasmic, but he knew he was still far from climaxing. Charlie gasped and Harry looked up into the wide blue eyes, making prolonged eye contact with the other wizard for the first time since his first dancing lesson in Romania.

The connection that formed was unlike any other Harry had been a part of. There was no flash through memories, but only the feelings of the present moment. Charlie in turn was feeling the magic as Harry did, his empathy allowing the connection to work for both of them.

As Harry thrust in slowly he breathed in sharply. He could feel the penetration as if it was invading his own body.

"Do you...?"

"Can you...?"

Neither of them answered, knowing their questions were the same, and Harry continued at the slow speed, gentle thrusts, savoring every sensation as it came. The warmth, the heat that he always felt from Charlie was there and building. Harry in the past had let himself be consumed by the heat, let it immolate him, but this time he felt an answering heat rise from inside him to meet Charlie's.

The pace quickened and their mouths devoured each other. Moans and cries were muffled by the meeting of tongues. Charlie's hands were everywhere on Harry's back, reaching as far as they could, teasing at his cleft, fingers finding their way inside him and leaving to find more skin. Charlie crossed his legs over Harry's, pressing them together.

Blue and green continued to stare into each other, wide open and brightened. There was no need for Harry to use his hands to do anything but support his weight as Charlie could feel the thrusts as if they were his own, the hands on his back as if they traced his muscles.

A finger brushed Harry's tattoo and they both gasped. Harry knew the tattoo was strange but he had no idea it was an erogenous zone. Charlie's finger lingered there, stroking the scales of the animate body art. The dragon breathed a jet of fire that came very close to where they were joined and sent another tingle along Harry's spine.

"Harry," Charlie spoke his name in shared ecstasy.

Harry thrust harder, faster and Charlie rose to meet him each time. Their bodies moved quickly, glistening, the light from the candles in the room casting shadow across muscle.

The heat from deep within Harry met the heat from Charlie and Harry thought, if he even could think just then, that they both might actually burn. He was filled with a sense of rightness, of peace and fire and light. Their eye contact broke but the connection remained as they exploded together, unable for one to hold back once the other was ready.

There was only one word Harry could use to describe the emotions that stayed as echoes of their connection, emotions he had never felt before, never acknowledged before, from within or without, and it was a word that scared him more than anything. He could no longer ignore or deny. It was love.

"Love." He didn't even know who spoke it, or if they both did.

Everything outside the two of them came slamming back into Harry's thoughts. There was a war raging somewhere. Innocent people were dying without even knowing why or how. The world was relying on Harry to end it.

He was softening inside Charlie, lying on top of him. He couldn't lift himself up, couldn't look Charlie in the eye. Harry just wanted to draw out the earlier moments into an eternity so he wouldn't have to deal with what he had ignored and denied for so long, but he could feel the safety and security slipping out of his grasp, the despair creeping in. He couldn't look at Charlie because he knew it might be the last time, knew that nothing he loved lasted. Nothing that he loved was safe.

"Harry."

"No."

"Harry," Charlie said more insistently.

Why couldn't he just leave it alone? Harry virtually flew backwards, separating them both physically and emotionally as he reflexively set up his barriers and shields, tight and impenetrable. He kept his face in his hands and felt his own shaking.

"No, no, no, no," Harry repeated, knowing his emotional shield was not strong. He was too wrought to keep it firmly in place.

The bed creaked as Charlie moved and Harry looked up to make sure he kept his distance. He had to concentrate. He had orphans to ensure safety for, exams to take, a dark lord to kill, and too many people to protect. He had to send Charlie away, because if Charlie died, so would he.

Harry needed to be strong and undistracted, and Charlie was his weakness, his distraction.

Charlie didn't say a thing and Harry felt the probing, the reading of his emotions, and the intense sadness they triggered. Harry spelled his pajama pants on and summoned his belongings, all flying into his bag as they hurtled towards him. He caught his bag as only a seeker could and slung it over his shoulder in one smooth motion.

"I have to go," Harry said plainly, painfully.

"Okay," Charlie wouldn't push him, would never push where he knew Harry might break as a result, "we can talk tomorr �"

"No," Harry pressed his point. "I have to leave. Goodbye Charlie."

He wanted to kiss him one last time, but he looked away instead. In the next heartbeat he was in Hermione's room in Hogwarts. He crawled into her bed, curled into a ball, and cried. He cried and slammed his fist into the mattress over and over, on his hands and knees yelling without form. He held back the magical outburst that was straining to get free and collapsed, soft sobs the only thing left, and fell into a deep sleep.

"Harry Potter sir? Master Harry Potter sir?"

The voice was unique, "Dobby?"

Harry sat up and squinted in the bright light of... some time of the day. He felt bereft... empty and alone.

"Master Harry Potter sir needs to eat," Dobby pressed. "Dobby has brought Harry Potter his favorites."

"I'm not hungry," Harry said flatly.

"Harr �"

"Go away Dobby. Shut the drapes."

Tears formed in the eyes of the elf but Harry couldn't feel guilt or pity just then. He couldn't feel anything. He had to shut himself off, the only way to protect them, keep them safe until it was over and he was either dead or finally able to live.

For neither can live while the survives

Harry knew what it meant. It had nothing to do with actual physical survival. They could both live forever, but would forever hunt each other. Harry could not live without fear for the safety of anyone he knew even remotely. Voldemort would use anything and everything to get to Harry, anyone and everyone.

He would not be able to live until he killed the bastard.

Dobby left eventually, leaving the tray of food of behind. Harry managed a few bites that all tasted like sawdust and fell asleep again. He dreamed, terrible dreams of his friends, his family, the only person he could say he loved totally, all of them being mutilated before his eyes, tortured and killed in agony to get to him. They cried out his name, begging to be rescued, and Voldemort laughed.

He didn't know how long he was there before he heard the voices outside the door.

"Dobby says he hardly eats," Malfoy said with worry.

"Do you know how long he's been there?" Hermione asked.

"Just a couple of days," Malfoy responded. "I haven't gone in. Dobby's been keeping watch. Hermione... I saw those scars... would he...?"

"Don't you even think that Draco Malfoy," Hermione snapped like a lioness guarding her cubs. "He knows he can't so he won't."

The door opened and footsteps approached the bed. Worry and sadness hovered near him, surrounded by Hermione's magic.

"Harry," her voice was soft and tender. She picked up a cloth that Dobby must have left on the nightstand and wiped his face.

He opened his eyes and shut them again quickly, curling up next to her, her hand smoothing his back. She cast a cleaning charm on him and on her linens, and then spooned up behind him, holding him close.

The tears came again and Harry berated himself for being weak. He couldn't stop no matter what he told himself.

"I love him," Harry sobbed, "and I left him. I can't let him die 'Mione. He can't die."

"I know Harry," she whispered in his hair, "I know."

They stayed that way for minutes, hours, who knew? She held a vial to his mouth and he swallowed, tasting Dreamless Sleep for the first time in over a year. His father must have given it to her.

When he woke he still felt empty, but he was no longer hysterical. He submitted to eating some soup and a piece of toast. Hermione made him drink tea which he knew had a calming potion, and probably a nutrient potion as well in it but he didn't care.

"Did I hurt him?" Harry felt the familiar gnawing of guilt.

Hermione looked him in the eye, "I don't know Harry. I didn't see him."

"He's gone?" Harry asked, knowing the answer because he knew Charlie.

"He went back to Romania in the middle of the night, about the same time you came here I think," Hermione answered. "Harry... he knows how you feel. He has to know, right?"

Harry nodded, "He knows. I don't see how he can't."

"What happened Harry? No one knows, unless Bill got Charlie to talk," Hermione said gently. She dug through his bag and pulled out clothing for him.

Harry waved his hand and he was dressed in the jeans and shirt she selected, "It was amazing Hermione. Forget everything I've told you." After that first talk she had slowly gotten Harry to open up and share. "Normal sex is like...," he drew from their common muggle background for a metaphor, "it's like a cherry bomb. This was Hiroshima."

Hermione's eyes opened wide and she sighed, "Wow."

"I need to see someone Hermione," Harry said with determination. "I'll only be an hour or less and I swear it's not dangerous."

Hermione hugged him tightly, "I won't try to stop you."

Harry returned the hug, thinking how very lucky Ron was to have Hermione, how very lucky Harry himself was to have her. He transformed and was gone in a flash of flame. When he reappeared he was in the Romanian mountains. He flew around the preserve, careful to avoid the handlers though a few of them may have caught sight of him. He found Eliza and she roared in greeting.

He dipped one wing down and circled, coming to rest by her feet and transforming, "Hi."

She nuzzled him and he just bathed in her affection, what he could now identify as love. He broke away before he was tempted to stay.

"I only have a few minutes. I need you to protect Charlie for me," Harry said firmly. He felt determination from her. "I need you to keep him alive and safe. I love him."

She picked him up with her forefeet again, holding him in what he supposed was a hug. She was sad for him, angry at those that made him sad, and projecting reassurance at him. He knew she would do what he asked.

"I have to go back," Harry said. "I don't want to make anyone worry."

Harry stroked her scales and transformed again. He flew high above her and, not really apparated, but just left for Hogwarts again. He appeared again in Hermione's room and changed back into human form. He leaned into her offered arms and this time remained dry eyed. Hermione spoke softly, comforting him as best as she could and rubbing his back. After a time he left for his room, and then the Room of Requirement to work out his anxieties.

Finding the Key - Chapter 36

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