First Place - Angst

Harry appeared in the familiar kitchen with no more than a soft displacement of the air to announce his arrival. He smiled in anticipation and removed his shoes, then set off to find Charlie and surprise him. With a silent command his bag was banished to the bedroom and enlarged.

The redhead was reading in front of the fire, most likely listening for the telltale 'crack' that signaled arrival by apparition. He was engrossed in his book but every once in a while would lift his head and tilt it towards the kitchen to listen for Harry. The only sounds in the room were the turning of pages and the crackle of the fire. Harry snuck up behind Charlie and grabbed him in a tight hug.

Charlie jumped and fumbled for his wand before he saw who it was grinning widely at him, "Merlin's Balls Harry, don't do that!"

Harry vaulted over the back of the couch and settled next to Charlie, just close enough so they were barely touching. He smiled innocently, "Do what?"

"You know perfectly well what."

Charlie wrapped Harry in a proper hug and the two of them remain like that, pressed together, for several minutes. Harry closed his eyes and listened to Charlie's heartbeat and breathing, soaking in the smell of the other wizard. There was a sense of warmth coming from Charlie, definite happiness and feeling of content, and more than a little anticipation.

He nuzzled his face into Charlie's neck and felt hands roam down from the hug to lift his shirt and settle against skin. Harry breathed in deeply and slowly let his tongue move to taste the neck he was nuzzling, eliciting a deep hum of arousal from his redheaded partner.

"I've missed you," Charlie said softly, punctuating his words with soft kisses on Harry's neck. His hands kneaded the muscles of Harry's back, releasing tension he hadn't even known was there.

"Mmm," Harry half-sighed, half-moaned, "Missed you too."

The kissed traveled from Harry's neck to his jaw, from his jaw to his face, from circling his face to his waiting mouth. His lips tingled as Charlie's pressed against them and Harry pushed his tongue out to invade the mouth moving with his.

Harry moved from sitting next to Charlie to straddling his legs. He rubbed his growing erection against the one he could feel forming in Charlie's pants. Moans escaped both mouths and they kissed hungrily, knowing exactly where to kiss, where to touch, where to press to bring the other closer to completion.

Their pelvises ground together as shirts were flung aside, exposing bare, muscled chests, both of them deeply tanned from daily physical labor under the sun. Harry undid the straps holding his holster to his forearm and let it fall, fake wand and all, to the floor in front of the couch. Charlie's hands left their exploration of Harry's chest to struggle with the strained fastening of Harry's jeans.

Harry let his head fall back and his spine arch, Charlie's hands moving to the small of his back to ensure his balance. He closed his eyes and focused on his magic, calling on just enough to banish trousers and pants to the bedroom, leaving them pressed skin to skin.

With a steady pressure Charlie pulled Harry back towards him and kissed him passionately. Harry responded to the kiss with equal fervor and reached down to take them both in hand and stroke. His other hand buried itself in curly red locks of hair. Charlie's moan reverberated in his mouth, causing a tingle to travel through Harry's jaw. The heat of the fire warmed his back.

"Slow down," Charlie breathed. Their eyes locked and Harry noticed that Charlie's eyes were a deep blue that could almost look black in the right setting.

Harry released his hand and traced the features of Charlie's face. A wave of confusion took him and he pushed it aside. He had no idea what he was for Charlie, or exactly what Charlie was for him, and every time he thought about it he swore they would talk the next time they were together.

But Harry chickened out each time. He needed whatever this was and was beyond afraid that it meant more than he could accept at that time. So, Harry did his best not to scan Charlie when they were together like that, not to interpret whatever emotions he did pick up from the redhead. Somewhere deep inside Harry felt a pain trying to claw its way to the surface, to make itself known.

He pushed down on it and leaned in to claim the lips again, only aware of the tears that had formed in his eyes when he tasted the salty liquid.

"Harry," Charlie said, not in pleasure but as a plea. He caressed Harry gently and wiped away the tears.

"Not now," Harry was feeling desperate, almost knowing where that talk would lead, I'm not ready to give you up. It was unspoken, and Harry refused to acknowledge it, refused to admit that he never did anything by halves.

Charlie sighed and nodded, and kissed under Harry's eyes, eliminating all traces of the tears. Harry closed his eyes and the soft lips ghosted over his eyelids. His mouth opened and a deep rumbling moan sounded through his lips. Harry pushed his hips forward and the soft kisses and caresses turned harder and needier again.

Harry let Charlie guide him onto his back and he gave himself over to physical sensation, to lips and tongues, to fingers and palms, taking and being taken. Their bodies moved together in a practiced dance and Harry cried out in completion more than once that night, his cries echoes of or echoed by those in a slightly deeper voice.

At some point pillows and sheets were summoned and they slept the few hours of the night they had left in front of the flickering fire, wrapped together.

When morning came Harry had forgotten about how close they came to that conversation that he knew had to happen sooner or later. The dragon handlers greeted Harry like a long lost member of the family with hugs and questions about how he was doing, how well he healed had after they saw him last.

The last time he had visited he spent all his time in an infirmary bed. The time before he was posing as a muggle and was acting as a trainee handler. This time he was on vacation technically, but he helped out wherever it was needed. Inactivity didn't suit Harry well. He was uncomfortable sitting around while others worked so he pitched in.

A good amount of time was spent just walking amongst the dragons there, some of them new to him. The reactions of the new dragons surprised him, much as the dragon at Gringotts had. Even before he spoke the dragons knew who he was, but how he didn't know. None of them breathed fire his way, or gave any sign of hostility. Rather, they acted as though he was a young dragon.

Harry was glad to see Eliza was still there, and the feelings of tenderness and protectiveness he sensed from her were similar to those he felt from Snape when he woke from a nightmare or was in trouble of some sort.

"Hey there," Harry greeted her with a broad smile.

Eliza dipped down her head to rub her snout against him. Harry had braced himself for that action and reached up to pet her scales. They didn't feel the same as a snake. They were harder and more individually defined.

It was the first dragon ride that he remembered. Eliza had encouraged him to climb on her back and she took off, souring through the air faster than a broom or hippogriff could travel. Harry saw the whole of the dragon preserve, which covered more than one thousand acres of land, from the air.

There was one wizarding tent outside the perimeter of the compound and Harry made a note of where it was located. He sent off a note to Dumbledore, or rather Charlie did through the 'ways Order members had to communicate' that Harry didn't know about. Harry had been a little mad when Charlie told him that the tent was for Order members who were maintaining a perimeter ward in case a Death Eater discovered where Harry was, but he filed it under the 'things Dumbledore did to protect him' heading and tried to ignore it.

As he didn't have any actual duties to perform Harry just talked with his adoptive dragon mother quite a bit, or rather talked to her as she couldn't exactly answer him. He found it easier to tell her anything that was bothering him. She was the perfect confidant, unable to disapprove, scold, or tell someone else what he said.

Some of the time he spent out in the dragon enclosures was used to work on his magical focusing. The dragons had strong currents of magic running through them, much stronger than what ran through Harry or any other wizard or witch he assumed. He guessed it was that which made them so resistant to spells.

The same as the last time he was there, Charlie had his work, so Harry saw him at meals, occasionally while helping out with the dragons, and at night as Charlie was on day shift all week. What was different was introduced to Harry after his first day there. They sat on the couch in front of the fire in amiable silence, sipping at snifters of brandy, which had replaced the hot chocolate of the previous summer nights.

"Time to get to work," Charlie announced.

Harry looked up with his brow drawn in confusion, "Huh?"

Charlie had grinned at him, that grin that made Harry instantly think of the twins, and Harry was immediately on alert, "Dumbledore's the only one who can work on dueling with you now, and you could probably take a few of your N.E.W.T.s already and pass with the extra work you've been given."

Harry had scowled at that. None of the work had actually been called extra. It had just been assigned and he completed it like a good little boy.

"So what has the Order decided we need to do?" Harry questioned defensively. He appreciated that he was being trained beyond the level that any seventeen-year-old normally achieved but hated that circumstances kept him out of Order meetings, and therefore out of the decision-making process on his own life.

"I'm going to teach you how to dance."

"What?" Harry coughed and demanded, his face coloring. He hated dancing.

Charlie held out his hand and pulled Harry to his feet, "You're amazing on a broom, and not too bad in a duel, but let's face it Harry... you can be pretty clumsy."

"And humiliating myself by dancing with you is supposed to change that?"

"Yes," Charlie chuckled. "If James and Lily had lived, or even one of them, you would have been given dancing lessons years ago. McGonagall was horrified your fourth year that you didn't know how to dance."

"Did you have lessons?" Harry scowled. He knew the answer.

Charlie sighed, "Not officially Harry. Mum and Dad couldn't afford it for all seven of us. Bill taught me. Luckily for us he's a natural. We taught Percy and the twins, but were off in school when it came time for Ron and Ginny. I expect the twins tried, in their own way, and turned Ron off dancing completely."

Harry finally cracked a smile, imagining the thirteen year old Fred and George trying to teach eleven year old Ron, whose feet were way too big for his body, to dance. There would have been tricks and teasing and eventually Ron would have run and never let them try again.

"Fine," Harry submitted, "but I'm warning you now, I can't dance at all."

"We'll see," Charlie smiled and held Harry's gaze. The blue eyes were smoldering and Harry felt his chest tightening and his groin heat up.

Charlie turned his wizarding wireless set to a station that played old dance music and began to teach Harry how to waltz. Harry stumbled over his feet, looking down to try and follow Charlie's steps.

"Ignore my feet..."

"I don't think that's a good idea if you want to walk tomorrow."

"...and look in my eyes," Charlie finished, unfazed by Harry's interruption. He lifted Harry's chin and stared into his eyes. "Just concentrate on me Harry. Let it all fade away. You're thinking too hard."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. He forced himself to just watch Charlie's eyes and opened up his senses just enough to feel the heat coming from the other wizard, and five minutes later realized he hadn't stumbled. He was somehow picking up clues for what to do through his empathy. He looked down and saw his feet were moving with Charlie's. He snapped his head back up and kept eye contact.

Charlie changed their position subtly so Harry was leading. Harry breathed deeply and kept watching those dark blue eyes, feeling like he could drown in their depths. Though they were barely touching this was somehow more intimate than anything Harry had experienced before.

As they danced Harry felt his concentration deepen. The threads of his magic pulsed brightly all around him. Charlie's strands were not quite as bright. He had a crimson that was of a deeper red than Harry's and an earthy warm golden brown. Where they touched, at their clasped hands and the hands resting at shoulder or hip, their magic twined together, joined and flowed, sparks jumping between them.

The small house hidden within the tent was alive with magic, as it was a deeply magical object itself. Harry felt his breath quicken and his mind open. It had happened so much more quickly this time, almost before Harry knew what was going on. The instant he began getting flashes of Charlie's thoughts and memories he stepped back as though his touch burned him and brought up every barrier he had as strongly as he could, an impenetrable shield surrounding his thoughts and feelings.

"Shit Charlie," Harry tried to slow his breathing but couldn't. "I'm sorry... I..."

"What the...?" Charlie turned off the music and looked at Harry quizzically.

Once again Harry massaged his temples and ran his fingers through his hair. Having practiced with the new ability it was much easier to will away the myriad of colors surrounding him. He refused to make eye contact, knowing it was necessary for them to connect like that. With Snape it was different. They had a strong bond, shared the same blood, and were both practitioners of Occlumency and Legilimency.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, backing up when Charlie reached out for him. "It won't happen again. I...," Harry couldn't explain it. He and his father hadn't discussed it at all after that one day and Harry didn't fully understand it himself. He belatedly discovered that he should have talked about it with Snape, but they had a tendency to just avoid uncomfortable subjects. "I'm going for a walk. I need to be alone."

Without waiting for an answer Harry turned and practically fled the tent. It was a warm night and Harry was thankful for that much. He was still dressed in jeans and a short sleeved shirt, the preserve being one of the few places he was comfortable wearing one as the handlers never asked questions about his scars, and he was barefoot.

His steps took him towards the area that Eliza spent most of her time. Her children wandered in and out of the area, old enough to leave for short times but still young enough to stay close. He climbed a tree and perched on a high branch, looking up at the dark sky littered with twinkling stars.

A concerned Eliza came to the tree not long after he had and sat with her head near him. She must have smelled his distress.

"I'm scared," Harry admitted in Parseltongue. "I don't know what's happening to me. I have all these talents and it's just too much. Why me? What's so special about me? I don't want it."

Eliza was upset and it made Harry feel guilty. He had a connection with this creature and he brought her pain, like everyone else he cared for.

"I...," Harry swallowed deeply, afraid to voice his next thought. "I think he might love me, but I don't know. I don't want to know, because... because anyone who loves me gets hurt. James and Lily, Siri, Dad... He just can't love me like that... it just... I mean, why would anyone...?"

Harry trailed off as he felt hot tears starting to course down his cheeks. Eliza roared, sharing his anguish. The summer before Harry had thought he would never feel anything again, and then he woke up in Hogwarts and all he could feel was pain. When he had been in Romania for a time he realized he was smiling, genuinely smiling, and he felt guilty for it, like he was disrespecting Sirius's memory.

And then Charlie happened, and the more time he spent with the red haired empath the more feeling Harry felt stirring up inside him. Something about Charlie opened up paths inside Harry that had been locked long ago and it was both exhilarating and scared Harry more than anything else ever had.

There had been days, locked away in the cupboard under the stairs, when Harry had dreamt of a different life. He had imagined parents who loved him, friends, simple things really. The more time he lived with Dursleys the less frequent those dreams became until he refused to even think of them, knowing they only made the hate and scorn and belittling that much worse.

When he found Sirius Harry had felt a little spark of that old hope, but that fire died almost before it was lit. Harry had felt happy at Hogwarts, but there was always fear below the happiness, fear that it would all go away, that everyone would turn on him again. So many times it did, when the whole school was against him, or half the school supported him but the world outside and those in power condemned him. He expected it, knew that any positive feeling was fleeting and would be ripped away.

Was it possible for happiness to last for him? He had his father and Charlie for a year now. Snape had almost been taken away, and Harry had almost died himself, but it was over quickly and he had everything back, in some ways better than before. He knew it was only a matter of time though...

No one had ever said anything about it to him, but Harry knew that his empathic abilities didn't just appear out of nowhere, and they were not transferred to him along with Parseltongue and whatever else when Voldemort tried to kill him. Harry had only asked once, and his father agreed that he got the talent from his mother, which meant he had been born with it. Living with the Dursleys he must have shut himself off early on. He had been thankful for his barriers earlier in the summer, as the feelings directed towards him in that house almost made him physically ill on multiple occasions.

Harry had climbed down out of the tree and let Eliza pull him in, holding him close and tucking him under her wing. Held like that, protected and cared for, Harry felt safe. It was late when he left to go back and he knew Charlie would still be awake, waiting for him to return.

"Harry?" Charlie had asked tentatively, unsure as he walked in.

Harry had kept himself strongly shielded, not wanting to let out his feelings or risk another connection like that. He nodded and gratefully stepped into Charlie's opened arms. There were no questions asked and Harry wondered what he'd done to deserve someone like Charlie, with so much understanding and patience. He just hoped that the patience could last. Harry just wasn't ready to confront his own feelings, let alone Charlie's.

Neither of them said a word as they embraced.

Finding the Key - Chapter 10

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