Chapter One

Charlie Weasley sat on a large flat rock, overlooking the hidden lake that sustained their compound deep in the Romanian mountains. It was a perfectly clear spring day and the water reflected the sun in a rainbow of light that danced on the unbroken surface. He had always loved the rock by the lake, from the day he had arrived as a new, untested keeper. It had been his quiet retreat from the stresses of dragon work, but also a place for him to simply sit down and marvel at the beauty that surrounded him.

Today he ate lunch while he watched one of the dragons cavort in the water before him. It was the new dragon, a Chinese Fireball from the reserve in Sweden. To say it was unusual for a dragon to take to water was an understatement. They had all been shocked when the beast began not only exploring the lake, but diving in and even floating about.

While he understood perfectly well why it was unusual for a dragon to swim, Charlie couldn't help but think that the dragon enjoying the water before him had it right. He treasured the lake and often went swimming, either alone or with the few other keepers who braved the chill water. He had always loved it, always enjoyed being outdoors and a part of nature. It was a big part of what had drawn him to dragon work: the opportunity to be outside instead of cooped up indoors, as well as the challenge of working with the most powerful and mesmerizing of magical creatures.

Not to mention the thrill of danger, of course.

The Fireball had been with them for a month, but they still struggled. He was a glorious brute of a beast, much bigger than the one he had taken to Hogwarts five months earlier, and Charlie desperately wanted to be the one to tame him. He had considered joining the animal in the water as a way to try to earn its trust, but he knew his safety would be too severely compromised off land and without a wand. But the red, as it was simply called, had not let anyone near him, and they had finally called in a keeper from Wales who had more experience with Fireballs.

Charlie shook his head as he watched the dragon, disappointed to be robbed of the chance to work more closely with the red. And yet, three of his coworkers had already been seriously injured, and it made sense to bring in outside help. He just hoped the new keeper wasn't a total prick about it. They had their routine at the reserve in Romania, and Charlie was content. He did not wish to see it disturbed by some cocky git from Wales.

"Hey, Weasley," called a voice behind him. "The new guy is here. Davenport says he's yours for the rounds."

"Thanks, Grant," Charlie said with a silent sigh. By rounds, it was expected that Charlie be the one to introduce the new keeper to the reserve: to the other keepers, the dragons, the routine. He had done the same for other new arrivals and usually didn't mind, especially if they were young and pretty, but this time he did not feel like being the one to break in the new keeper. He had no interest whatsoever in playing tour guide for some so-called expert who was only there because the rest of them couldn't handle a new dragon; even worse that they were to be partners and work together with the Fireball, because Charlie was the only one left with any sort of experience with them.

Charlie stood and turned on his rock. Behind him stood a young man about his own age, which was surprising: he had been expecting someone with experience, which in his mind meant someone much older. This man did not look experienced at all, until Charlie spotted a long scar down his neck and a few old burn marks on his arms. He was short but slim, much more agile looking than expected for a dragon keeper. His dark blond hair was cropped exceedingly short, unlike Charlie's long hair, which he always tied back with a bit of leather. The newcomer had sharp blue eyes that were already gazing across the lake at the dragon, and he was frowning. He looked familiar, but Charlie couldn't quite place him.

"I've never seen one swim before," the other man said by way of introduction.

Charlie bristled for some reason: it seemed an ignorant observation from someone who was supposed to be an expert on dragons. "Ridgebacks dive for prey all the time," he replied, trying to keep his voice even.

"They don't play," the other man retorted, raising an eyebrow at Charlie defiantly as he gestured at the dragon clearly enjoying itself on the lake. "Fire and water don't mix well, you know."

Charlie snorted. He knew that perfectly well, which was one reason he found it so fascinating to watch the Fireball from his rock. "If you look carefully, you'll see that he's carefully avoiding getting the flame sacs wet."

The other man shook his head. The way he watched the dragons also seemed familiar, as if he were looking for something with singular concentration. Charlie thought maybe they had gone to school together, but he still couldn't place him, especially without knowing the man's name. "It's still awfully cold for a Fireball," the newcomer finally replied, watching raptly. Again, the man was stating the obvious: it was why they had sent the Hogwarts Fireball down to Africa, the cold Romanian winters almost killing the poor beast.

"Seen many Fireballs, have you?" Charlie asked as the man continued to stare out at the water. He was liking this man less and less: the newcomer immediately came across as cocky and arrogant, and Charlie almost dreaded having to work him. He already seemed far too self-centered for Charlie's tastes in a working partner.

"Actually, yes," the man replied with a shrug. "I spent six months in China with them. They're brutal, but beautiful. And they like warm sunny places, not cold mountain lakes. This is the one from Sweden?"

Charlie nodded begrudgingly. So the guy had been to China, big deal. That didn't mean he knew anything about dragons in Romania. "Yes, they found him wandering around the fjords half-dead. They nursed him back as well as they could, but he was just too aggressive for them."

"Yes, they can be vicious bastards when they're cold and frightened. Has he been violent down here as well?"

"He's not bad for me, but he's injured three other keepers since he arrived, so we thought we'd bring in the big wands." Charlie let his voice drip sarcasm, but to his surprise the other man grinned and finally stuck out his hand.

"That's me, then," he said with a wink that once again surprised Charlie. The man's whole demeanor changed: he suddenly seemed friendly and relaxed, and Charlie reluctantly took his hand as the man introduced himself.

"I'm Terrence Higgs," he said. "Just arrived from the Llwytmor reserve in Wales."

"Charlie Weasley," Charlie grunted.

"Figured you were," Terrence said. "Since the bloke who brought me out here said, 'You'll be working with Weasley. Good luck with that.'"

Charlie frowned. "Grant said that about me? Really?"

"No," replied Terrence, the hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "That was just my first impression of you."

"Better than mine then," Charlie retorted. He was slightly confused by the change: maybe Higgs wasn't an arrogant prat after all. He certainly had a straightforward sense of humor.

"Good," Terrence said. "I try to come off as an arsehole for first impressions. Keeps people on their toes."

"You nailed it then," Charlie admitted. "Although I was thinking more cocky git."

"Oh, I can do cocky git." Terrence laughed. "It just depends who I'm meeting for the first time. I try to save that one for Ravenclaws and arsehole for Gryffindors, especially former Qudditch captains."

Charlie couldn't help it: he burst out laughing. "I remember you now. You played on the Slytherin Quidditch team at Hogwarts."

"I did. I was a Seeker, too--and you beat me every time." Terrence turned back to him, a friendly but guarded smile on his face. "I'm surprised you're not playing professionally, actually."

"I wasn't interested," Charlie replied with a shrug. "I like this much better."

Terrence nodded, blue eyes gazing back out at the lake. "Same with me. I tried banking, but it wasn't my thing. This is what I'm supposed to do--not sit behind some desk counting Galleons."

"So how long have you been working with dragons?" asked Charlie. He motioned Terrence away from the lake and began to lead him back up the short path to the reserve cabins so that he could show the man around and get him settled before heading out for the real introductions: the dragons, especially the red.

"Including the six months in China, almost three years." He glanced sideways at Charlie. "So I may not be the most experienced dragonologist around, but I do know Fireballs. I can break him."

Charlie nodded approvingly; perhaps Higgs' arrogance was simply confidence. Charlie had been in Romania studying dragons for four years, so he didn't have much up on Terrence, and specialized experience on another continent was sure to have given Higgs some insight into the unique Fireballs. Charlie was still slightly confused by their initial exchange: was Higgs actually a cocky git or was this friendly air the real act? He had hardly known the Slytherin at Hogwarts, so he wasn't sure, but he'd find out soon enough whether Terrence Higgs could handle his new assignment.

* * *

The dragon stood still, gazing at Higgs with deep yellow eyes unreadable to anyone except a trained dragon keeper. Charlie knew, though, that the Hungarian Horntail--the very same one Harry had faced in the Tri-Wizard Tournament--now trusted Higgs completely and would let him do just about anything short of hop on his back for a ride. Higgs was good.

In two weeks he had earned the trust of half the dragons on the reserve. They were still struggling with the Fireball, and there was the one Welsh Green who would have nothing to do with him, but he had certainly proved his talent in a short span of time. Higgs was a born dragon keeper and certainly not a banker. Charlie wasn't sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. To be honest, there was still something about the man that rubbed him the wrong way half the time.

He still came across as arrogant at times, though Charlie was apparently the only one who thought so as the rest of the keepers at the reserve had no problems getting along with him or praising his work so far. Overconfidence then--something only a partner might see in his work. And yet, Higgs hadn't failed once, so he likely had a right to it.

Maybe it was just the fact of having a partner again that bothered him. Charlie liked working alone. He liked the thrill of it, the risk of it, and the feeling of success that he didn't have to share with anyone but himself. And when it came down to it, he didn't like change. Never mind that the last keeper he had worked closely with had been injured so badly he'd been sent back to England and never seen again; that had been over a year ago, and now Charlie simply wanted to work with his dragons, just as he had done and been doing, alone.

Unfortunately, Higgs had come in and ruined that. He was good--and even worse, they worked well together, even if Charlie hated admitting it. He had seen several new keepers come in and blunder around their first few weeks, but Higgs knew what he was doing, and was mindful of doing it right. When he and Charlie were together with the dragons, they worked as a solid team, almost reading one another's minds. Charlie just didn't want to be part of a team.

"Check off another," he murmured as Higgs let the Horntail fly off back to its mountain perch. "I have to admit, you do know what you're doing."

Higgs gave him that not-quite-open smile he had been giving him since the first day. "I'm glad I could surprise you. Who's next on the list then?"

Charlie cocked an eyebrow. "I'd suggest Branwen again, but she can't stand you."

Higgs frowned. "I don't understand why, really. I didn't have any problems with the Greens at Llwytmor."

"You're a cocky git, that's why," Charlie offered, half jokingly. "And she knows it."

"You got over it," Higgs tossed back.

"I'm just pretending to like you," Charlie replied as nonchalantly as he could. He felt slightly uncomfortable because in some ways it was true. Yet he couldn't figure out a single thing that should keep him from getting along better with his partner, and he felt guilty for it.

"Don't try too hard," Terrence said. "I'd like to keep my reputation."

"And I'd like to keep mine, so I won't." They both laughed, a rare moment of levity when most of their interaction was a bit more awkward and standoffish.

"How about we try her after lunch?" Charlie asked "We can see if she's warmed up to you yet."

Terrence was gazing in the direction the Horntail had flown. "What about a quick ride up to the mountain first? You said you'd take me up there," he said, giving Charlie a very pointed look. "And you know I can fly."

Charlie pursued his lips. He had put off taking Higgs up to the mountain crags where the dragons slept since he had asked the second day in. And again--he had no reason. He was well aware Higgs could fly: the former Seeker had flown circles around just about all of them at a make-shift Quidditch match several days earlier, bringing back memories of the pitch at Hogwarts. Charlie knew he might as well get it over with and take the man up there. He sighed in resignation.

"Come on then, let's get our brooms. I'll meet you on the rock in ten." He left without another word, but felt Higgs' eyes on his back. He was frequently abrupt with him, he knew, he just couldn't seem to help it. He tried not to think about it as he hurried back to his cabin and grabbed his broom and a quick drink. Instead, he focused on the flight itself: it was one of his favorite things to do as a keeper, and he would enjoy it even if he didn't enjoy the company.

Heading back outside, Charlie glanced around and saw Higgs down by the lake waiting for him, his attention held rapt by something on the water.

"Will you look at that?" he breathed, gesturing at the lake. The Chinese Fireball was swimming, just as he did everyday, but he was not alone: he was with Branwen, the tempestuous Welsh Green who tended to stay by herself. They floated in the water side-by-side, occasionally nipping at one another or even splashing with their long tails.

"I'll be damned," Charlie murmured. "She's never gone near the lake, not even to drink."

"And she doesn't get along with the other dragons much, does she?" Terrence asked. "I mean, I'm not the only one she hates. She avoids just about everyone and everything."

"Except the Fireball, it seems." Charlie gazed at the dragons in wonder, two creatures who suffered no one actually enjoying one another's company. He knew he was witnessing something rare and special: an interspecies friendship, if not more. What he didn't understand was how it was possible, when they were both such prickly beasts.

"Let's go up to the mountains another time," Terrence said softly, as if he did not want to disturb the amazing scene before them.

"Right," said Charlie, barely registering his words. He sat down on the rock, knees to his chest as he watched the creatures before them. Terrence joined him, and they sat there all afternoon, not even talking, just sitting together on the rock and marveling at the dragons on the water.

And for a brief moment, Charlie thought Terrence Higgs might make a good partner after all.

* * *

Chapter Two

Terrence ran a hand through his sweaty hair, surprised to find the tips weren't singed. The Fireball, whom they had finally just started calling Rosu, the Romanian word for red, was a spitfire--literally. In just under a month, Terrence had received more burns than he'd had in a year in Wales. It was a grouchy beast, refusing to let anyone near it except him and Weasley, and even then it still wouldn't let Weasley do much beyond the basic approach, in spite of his former experience with the last Fireball they'd had at the Romanian reserve.

Terrence had tried all the tricks he had learned in China, but he had the distinct impression the dragon was secretly laughing at him each time. Still, he was able to get closer than Weasley, which he knew bothered the experienced keeper. Charlie Weasley might not remember him, but he remembered Charlie Weasley: fiercely loyal but even more stubbornly determined to succeed and win. At least, that was how he had played Quidditch at Hogwarts. He had been a brilliant Seeker, and Terrence had admired the Gryffindor even as he had hated him for beating him to the Snitch every time they had played against one another. To be honest, being able to best him at something like taming a Chinese Fireball felt good.

Still, it was exhausting. Terrence spent countless hours with the beast, trying to learn its ways and earn its trust. He worked with it every day, trying to get closer, sometimes simply watching as it continuously swam in the lake with the only other creature it would truly let into its world: the Welsh Green. It was remarkable to witness, such a deep bond between two solitary dragons, and Terrence was excited to see if it would develop into more.

The sun was setting on an unusually warm day as Rosu frolicked in the water. Branwen was observing from the shore this time, and Terrence had an idea. Perhaps if the animal were so fond of water, he should approach it where it was most comfortable. It was a risk, but one worth taking after making so little progress, and he could handle it: he was a strong swimmer. He peeled off his clothes and jumped into the cold water.

The first time he simply swam off the rock by himself and did not approach the dragon at all. Weasley caught him the next day, and he was sure a look of both envy and annoyance passed over the other man's face. He thought about inviting Weasley to join him, but they had a wary relationship when they weren't working in the field, and Terrence could do this on his own. He wanted the challenge--and he wanted to win.

After a week he began swimming closer and closer. Rosu did not object, nor did Branwen. Terrence always made sure to enter the water after the green dragon had left; he knew he would be considered an intruder in their water dance otherwise.

Weasley tried to warn him of the danger: that he was unprotected in the water, unable to get to his wand, swimming without backup on his breaks. Terrence had shrugged it off, and Weasley had stormed away. Terrence liked the water: it cooled him off after the long, difficult afternoons spent working on the reserve. Rosu was calm in the water, and Terrence felt like he might finally be making progress, however unusual the method. And Charlie knew as well as anyone that part of the thrill of working with dragons was the element of risk and danger.

Today he was going to try to swim even closer. As Terrence lowered himself into the cool water, he noted Branwen on the shore, apparently asleep. The two dragons were almost inseparable now; it occurred to Terrence that if the Green were to wake up, he could be in considerable trouble. Of all the other dragons at the reserve, Branwen was now the only other one who still did not allow him near her: it was as if she sensed his intent with Rosu.

Nonetheless, he wanted to try. He wanted to finish what he had started and head back to Wales. Romania was beautiful but foreign, and he missed the Welsh mountains where he had finally found some peace from the insistent nattering of his family: study this, play that, work there, marry her. Merlin, he'd had enough when he'd left for China. He had enjoyed a relatively quiet few years back in Wales, but the assignment to Romania couldn't have come at a better time, for they had been pressuring him once again to return to London to find a pretty girl and a prosperous job and just settle down.

He had no intention of following their wishes: it was his life, and he was a dragon keeper, not some goblin's lackey. If they had thought dragons were just a passing fancy, they were wrong. It was what he was best at, what he was supposed to do. His sister had towed the family line, putting aside her dreams and marrying for wealth and status, but Terrence would do neither. He would remain with his dragons, wherever he needed to be.

Floating on his back in the water, Terrence suddenly realized he was quite close to Rosu. He was unfocused, preoccupied by his thoughts. It had happened before: it was how he had got the scar on his neck in China. His mind kept dwelling on other things--the owls from his mother, the sad letters from his lonely sister, forced to marry someone she didn't really love, the damning silence from his father--and he realized too late that Rosu was agitated by his approach. Maybe it was his distracted air, maybe it was something else entirely, but the dragon roared, drawing Branwen from the shore almost immediately.

Terrence dived, but the Green caught him across the back before he could get deep enough. He gasped, inhaling a mouthful of dirty lake water and scrambling toward the surface for air. Unfortunately, Branwen was turning for another pass, and he didn't have his wand. He needed to go under again, but he was coughing too much, and he knew then that the last thing he would see was going to be a mouthful of dragon teeth, and a wicked claw ripping his chest open. He turned and dived, forcing himself under, but it wouldn't be deep enough …

A flash of light and explosion of sound stopped the dragon mid-flight, and Branwen turned at the last minute with another guttural growl. Rosu rose with her, and they both flew back toward the mountains. Terrence popped back to the surface, gasping as he tried to fill his lungs with air and find his balance in the water. He felt a pair of strong arms grab him around the chest and begin pulling him back toward the rock.

"I'm not drowning, Weasley," he finally managed in weak protest. He wasn't, not really, but his back was on fire, and he didn't mind the help as much as he normally would have; he just didn't want Weasley to know that.

"Could have fooled me," Weasley muttered, equally out of breath from the effort of swimming for two. They reached the rock, Charlie climbing up first and offering a hand to Terrence. He took it, trying to keep the injury to his back hidden. He'd never live it down if Weasley saw the gash he could feel dripping blood with every small movement. He started to pull on his shirt, but gasped in pain as the fabric came into contact with shredded skin.

"Turn around," Charlie ordered. Terrence shook his head.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." But he was biting his lip, and as soon as he shook off Weasley he needed to see the Healer at the reserve who treated all their injuries and illness. He'd get an earful from her as well, but that wasn't as bad as from Weasley, and at least she'd have a spell and some salve for it.

"No, let me see it," Charlie demanded. Terrence reluctantly turned, but was met with silence.

"See, it's nothing," he finally muttered, turning back with a grimace. Weasley's face actually looked pale beneath all the freckles.

"It's bad, Terrence," Charlie replied, brushing his long red hair from his face. "You need to see Maggie immediately."

"I was on my way before you stopped me to stare at it," Terrence snapped, almost instantly regretting it as Weasley simply raised his eyebrows in response.

"I just saved your life, Higgs. A thank you might be more appropriate."

Terrence sighed, waving a hand over his face as the adrenaline rush left him and he staggered, his legs now shaking, his back on fire. Weasley was instantly at his side, ducking his head under his shoulder to support him. They were of equal height, and when Terrence glanced at his partner's face, he saw real worry there.

"I know," he murmured, trying his best to tone it down and not snap again. "Thank you. I appreciate the backup." He knew it was half the gratitude he probably owed Weasley, but he couldn't help it: he had wounded more than his back.

Charlie snorted as he looked away. "Right. Tell me again later when you actually mean it. Let's go before you pass out."

They stumbled back to the main living area of the reserve in silence. But Terrence felt Weasley's warm breath on him each step of the way, felt strong muscles moving in time with his injured ones. And there was something else, something he wondered if Charlie felt as well, or if he were just delirious from pain.

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or not?" asked Maggie, gentle fingers prodding at the remnants of his injury. She cast a few spells and began to rub in the ointment she'd been using for a week. Terrence was finally starting to feel his back return to normal: he could almost sleep on it, and lifting his arms above his head no longer stretched reluctant skin and muscles. Maggie had told him there would be another scar, but he was a dragon keeper: they practically collected them as prizes.

"Nothing's wrong," he mumbled. He'd had another owl from his family. They were not subtle, that much was certain: his mother had sent him all sorts of news from Llwytmor, as if hearing about his former reserve might motivate him to at least return to Britain. Then she threw in any gossip she had managed to find out about the Romanian reserve, likely hoping to drive him away. He had already heard most of it, though, and he knew it was a good place.

Then why did he not want to be there anymore? And at the same time, why did he want to stay?

"I know you're lying," she said, coming around in front of him as he stood and began to pull on his shirt. "Or at least, you're not telling me something."

"I'm just tired, that's all," Terrence said, and it was true: he had not been sleeping well at all since Branwen had clawed him. He was uncomfortable, but more than that, it was his thoughts that kept him awake. He turned it over constantly in his mind, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, what he could have done differently. Yet always he came back to that moment when Weasley had saved him, and then walked him back to Maggie's before he had passed out from the pain.

"I can give you a sleeping draught," she offered. "If you think it will help."

He nodded and gave her a weary smile. "Actually, yes--that would help a lot, thank you."

He waited while she bustled over to the cabinet she kept well-stocked with anything anyone might need on a dragon reserve: potions, tinctures, draughts, and numerous strips of long white cloth for wrapping injuries and burns. Terrence was glad to be rid of his bandage, since it had itched like mad; he'd gladly walk out with a sleeping draught instead, if it helped clear his mind for a decent night's rest.

She brought over a small vial and placed it into his hand, stepping close. She smelled sweet, of lavender and chamomile and all the other herbs she used for her craft. He somehow sensed he could kiss her, right then, if he wanted, but as beautiful as she was, he wasn't interested. His family might stop pestering him if he told them he was settling down with a pretty young Healer, but he knew he could never do that. It wasn't who he was, to simply marry for convenience; he didn't even sleep around the reserves like a lot of other keepers.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice catching a bit; he wasn't completely immune to her nearness, after all.

"I would offer you more if I thought you were interested," she said, gazing into his eyes for an answer; he glanced away, and she stepped back with smile.

"I am a good listener," she said. "If you ever wanted to talk about it. Or just him."

He glanced back at her in surprise, eyes wide as she laughed lightly. "Don't worry, it's not obvious at all. I just pick up on these things rather well in my line of work."

He stuttered something he could barely make sense of, but she just laughed again and pulled him into a warm embrace. "You're not the only one who's had those thoughts about him. I did too, once." Once again, Terrence stumbled over his words, still too shocked that she had sussed him out. She put a hand to his face. "Let me know if you need anything, Terrence."

This time he just nodded, then impulsively kissed her on the cheek in gratitude. He probably should talk to her soon, before he burst from holding it in. She smiled again as he headed out the door, then called out after him: "He's a hell of a kisser, just so you know!"

Terrence walked away, red-faced and hoping against hope that no one had heard her. He tried to put her words out of his mind as he headed to the grounds for the day. He needed to stay focused, before he was injured again--or worse, the man she was talking about.

* * *

Chapter Three

Charlie left the campfire for the rock, not in the mood for drinking or singing or even having hooking up with one of the visiting dragonologists from the Swedish reserve who had come to check on Rosu as they made their way to the compound in north Africa. He had been in a funk for over a fortnight now, and company just seemed to aggravate it.

Or rather, certain company made it worse, and the irony was that Higgs wasn't even seated around the fire anymore. He'd left an hour ago, probably off shagging Maggie in her cabin yet again. Not that Charlie could blame him: she was a good shag, and she always seemed to have a soft spot for a bit of extra sympathy when someone was injured on the reserve. He shouldn't be bothered by it, but he was. Terrence had been even more unfocused since Branwen had clawed him across the back, and Charlie didn’t want a partner who let an injury get to him.

At least, that's what he told himself. He tried not to think about the other possibility, that Terrence had felt not the same physical connection Charlie had felt on the long walk to the Healer's cabin. If he had, Higgs was doing a good job of forgetting about it in Maggie's bed.

As he stepped out onto the rock, Charlie saw a shadow sitting on the edge, feet dangling over the water, and groaned to himself. It was Higgs, and he probably had a lapful going on with Maggie. Charlie turned to leave, feeling unjustly annoyed, but Higgs had already heard him.

"I won't claw you, Weasley," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Charlie held back the really biting comment he wanted to throw out and said instead, "It's fine. You were here first."

"If you want your rock, you can come sit on your rock." Terrence stood, surprisingly alone, and motioned to the edge. "I'm done with it."

He waited for Charlie to sit down before he turned to leave. Then he seemed to change his mind, because he turned back and sat down again just a few feet away.

"On second thought, I'm not done. Mind if I join you?"

"Yes," Charlie muttered, although he didn't, not really. Something was forcing him to say it, as if he couldn't let himself simply sit with Terrence and enjoy a moment's peace. It just wasn't what they did. Instead, they had spent the last two months bickering, sometimes in jest, sometimes not, rare moments of getting along always eclipsed by uncomfortable exchanges filled with resentment. He was getting tired of it, to the point of wanting to go to Davenport and request someone else take Higgs as a partner, although it would mean giving up the Fireball.

And yet, they had made significant progress with Rosu, even if Higgs had been off his game since the injury. Charlie knew they worked well together when they were focused on the dragons…it was getting along away from the animals that was difficult, and Charlie didn't want to think of the reasons.

But maybe Terrence did.

"Why are you such an arsehole sometimes?" he asked, point blank. He did not look at Charlie, but gazed out at the black water, tiny pinpricks of light from the sky floating on its unbroken surface. Charlie bristled immediately.

"I'm not the one who showed up his first day actually claiming to be an arsehole," he pointed out. "You said it was an act, but you haven't dropped it if it was."

And again Terrence did that odd turn-about, where he seemed to go from hot to cold in seconds, just as he had when they had first met, just as he had almost every day since. He even laughed. "Good point. Okay," he said, turning toward Charlie this time, and there was a look on his face Charlie couldn't decipher. "Why are we both such arseholes then? Why are we always sniping at each other like brats wrapped up in their mum's skirt?"

Now it was Charlie's turn to laugh as he shook his head. "I don’t know, Higgs," he finally replied. "Fire and water, I guess."

He was quiet for a long time. "Well, if those two can get along, I'd think we could, given our higher level of evolution." He gestured at the sky, where Rosu and Branwen circled the lake. They flew right overheard and roared, almost as if greeting their two closest keepers, but instead of landing on the far shore, they continued up into the mountains instead.

Charlie watched them leave. Terrence had actually moved closer; Charlie glanced sideways at the other man, but curbed the instinct to move away, not wanting to appear rude when he had been the intruder. The warmth from Higgs sitting mere inches from him was actually comforting on the crisp, cool night.

"Look, Higgs," he started, clearing his throat when his voice came out a bit scratchy. "I don't know what to tell you. Sometimes partners just get under each other's skin. You're arrogant and--"

"--and you're stubborn," Terrence interjected. Charlie just nodded, since it was true.

"--and so we're going to have a go at each other every so often, but I've got your back." He paused and offered a sideways grin. "Literally."

Terrence blew out a breath as he shook his head. "I really owe you for that."

"I know," said Charlie. "I'm sure I'll eventually do something equally stupid and you'll have to blast a dragon off my back one day too."

"I hope not," murmured Higgs. "I was distracted." His voice conveyed both the desire to drop it and the need to talk about it. Considering they hadn't talked much at all in the weeks since his injury, Charlie decided to go for it: if they were going to work together, they needed to be open with each other. Or at least honest enough to be able to do their jobs without getting killed.

"You obviously weren't thinking about dragons," he pointed out, hoping Terrence might talk more. Higgs laughed bitterly.

"I wasn't, no. I was thinking about my family." He didn't offer anything else, though, so Charlie made a comment, thinking that perhaps the other man missed his family. He'd transferred from Wales, after all, which was a good deal closer to home for him.

"It's hard being away from friends and family," Charlie said with what he hoped was a sympathetic tone. "But you get used to it, in some ways."

"Oh, I don't mind a bit," Terrence said emphatically. He shifted on the rock, leaning back on his hands and gazing up at the sky, but with his eyes closed. "Why do you think I went to China for six months?"

For one of the first times they'd been alone together and not working, Charlie felt comfortable, and he leaned back as well. "To get away from them?" he guessed from the tone of voice, and Terrence nodded. "They can't be that bad, can they?"

Terrence didn't open his eyes, he just talked to the sky. "How many siblings do you have, Weasley?" he asked, sounding curious. "Quite a few, if I remember correctly."

"Five brothers and a sister," Charlie said. "Why? How about you? And what do they have to do with anything?"

"I have a sister, that's all. I'd imagine with so many siblings, you've haven't been under all that much pressure to do this, do that--do whatever your parents told you." He finally opened his eyes, piercing Charlie with a pointed look. "Am I right? It's different growing up in a big family, isn't it? More freedom."

"They had expectations for me," Charlie replied, feeling slightly defensive. "And it's not like I slacked off, I've worked hard to get where I am…" He trailed off as Terrence waved his hand at him.

"No, no, that's not what I mean. Maybe it's because of who my parents are then: high-ranking pure-blood Slytherins to the core with a penchant for pompous snobbery. The sort that like to plan out their children's lives with their best interests at heart, only they don't have a bloody clue what our interests really are." He sounded angry by the end, and Charlie suddenly understood.

"They wanted you to do something you didn't want to do," he suggested.

Terrence nodded. "First it was Quidditch, then it was banking. I tried both. They were disappointed when I didn't go out for a major team, furious when I left Gringotts for dragon work." The sentence was unfinished, though, and Charlie knew there was more.

"And now?" he asked. He couldn't help it: he was interested, because he already felt like he knew Higgs better, even if he couldn't relate. His parents had been disappointed when he had moved to Romania, but only because it was so far. They had supported him ever since, even though he knew they wanted him closer simply because they missed him. Did Terrence's parents miss him, or were they equally as estranged from their son as he seemed to be from them?

"Now they want me to get married." Higgs paused. "Or they did, until I left Wales."

Charlie could help but snort. "So you're not really here for the Fireball, you're here to get out of a wedding?"

Terrence shrugged in answer, though he did look slightly embarrassed. "You think you'll ever get married?"

"I've never thought about it," Charlie answered almost instantly and honestly. "I have no idea."

"Really?" Terrence asked, sitting up and leaning forward, closer. "You don't have anyone back home, anyone around here?"

The conversation was veering into even more personal territory, but Charlie still felt remarkably comfortable at that moment. They hadn't snapped at each other once since he had come out to the rock; in fact, Terrence had just been very honest, and Charlie felt the need to respond in kind. He wanted to.

"I'm not one to leave someone behind, waiting around for me," he replied. "And there's no one here--you'd know if there were, since there are no secrets around here." Which was true: everyone knew just about everything that happened on the reserve.

"What about Maggie?" Terrence asked casually, but Charlie sensed he was either looking for information or permission, both of which actually made him want to laugh, though for completely different reasons. He didn't.

"She's a great Healer, among other things," he said, earning a raised eyebrow from Higgs. "But she's different than the rest of us: she'll settle down with someone, someday."

Higgs nodded slowly. "And the rest of us?" he asked.

"We're dragon keepers," Charlie said. "Most of us live far away from our families. We live in the wild. We risk our lives every day. We travel a lot. We don't settle down much." He stopped as it hit him: his future. Alone. Yet that was what he had been living with for four years, so why did it suddenly bother him now? It was what he wanted, wasn't it?

"Exactly," murmured Terrence, still gazing across the water.

"Really, the only person for someone like us would be another dragon keeper, but I can tell you from experience that's just as hard." Charlie remembered falling for another keeper his second year, only to see it end when Lauren transferred to Canada to work with her father on establishing a new reserve in Alberta. And then there had been Jake, which had been brief but intense, but then he'd been injured and had gone back to England, never to return.

No, Charlie wasn't interested in relationships or marriage…and yet here he was, sitting side-by-side and talking about it with a man who had fled the country to avoid getting married, and wondering why it had never concerned him until now.

Higgs was silent for a long time, so long so that Charlie wondered if he had said something wrong. He finally brought it up again. "So did you just not want to get married in general, or did they actually have someone in mind for you?"

Terrence gave him an enigmatic look. "Both. Because like you said, the only person for someone like us is someone like us." Charlie got the distinct impression Higgs meant something else, but he wasn't sure if Terrence was hinting at what he thought. He did notice Terrence lick his lips, and Charlie forced himself to look away, because he did not want to notice his partner licking his lips like that.

"Maggie's good, then," Charlie offered, repressing a sigh. It seemed his Gryffindor heritage was failing him, and he couldn't say what he was really thinking or feeling. "She gets us, at least. Good luck with her."

A confused look floated across Terrence's face. "What do you mean?"

Charlie stood and stretched as he tried to hide disappointment he knew he shouldn't be feeling. "You asked about her, and you've been down to her cabin quite a lot lately, even though I know your back is much better…" He trailed off, letting his unspoken words fill in the rest.

"Oh." Terrence stood with him, and they began to walk back toward the cabins. Again, Charlie was surprised at how easy it had been to talk to him without fighting. Maybe they could keep working together after all…at least, if he could get certain other things out of his mind now, especially the disappointing ones.

"Look, Charlie…it's not like that," Higgs said softly under his breath.

Charlie wanted to ask what he meant, but it was none of his business, not really. The compound was an open, accepting place, and people did what they did with whomever they wanted to do it with. Yet Terrence seemed uncomfortable, for some reason--as if he didn't want Charlie to have the wrong idea.

"I was only asking, because she…she's mentioned you a few times. I thought maybe there was something going on I missed."

"Oh." Now it was Charlie's turn to be slightly surprised. "No, there's nothing between us." He shrugged as he stopped in front of his cabin. "She's all yours."

"Bollocks, Weasley," Higgs snapped, running a hand through his short hair in distress. "I just said it wasn't like that."

Charlie held up his hands. "Fine. Sorry." And there it was: the bickering that the vast majority of their conversations turned into. He was too tired and confused to snap back, though, so he just turned and walked toward his cabin in silence. Behind him he heard Higgs huff and storm off the other way. With a sigh he headed into his cabin, thinking of Lauren and Jake and Maggie and all the other relationships he'd had that hadn't gone anywhere and never would.

And he thought about Terrence Higgs…who was, in the end, just like him.

* * *

Chapter Four

The damn dragon was finally coming around.

Charlie--for some reason, he rarely thought of him as Weasley now--had his wand ready as Terrence slowly and carefully approached Rosu. The dragon seemed tired, almost down; perhaps that was really the reason he had lowered his head to the ground and now let Terrence come close enough to touch the scales on his billowing sides. He could have sworn the beast sighed.

"It's all right," Terrence murmured, knowing the dragon couldn't possibly understand his words, but that body language and tone conveyed much more. "I'm not going to hurt you." He started to examine the dragon for any sickness or injury, Charlie close behind him, covering him in case the animal startled.

"I don’t think I saw him with Branwen once since yesterday," he murmured. It was almost as if Rosu heard the Green's name, for his turned and gave them a baleful look, his large glassy eyes mirroring the very human emotion of sadness.

Terrence continued his slow walk around the dragon. "Did you have a row with your mate? Was that all the noise I heard yesterday?" he asked. He knew he would get no answer, but the dragon made a pathetic mewling sound, and he glanced in surprise at Charlie, who just shook his head, stunned.

"That's impossible," he said softly. "I mean, I've seen dragons fight, but I've never seen one actually upset about it."

"Me neither," said Terrence. "It's amazing."

Terrence tried to stay focused, but once again a dozen things were going through his mind. Charlie was so close now he could feel his breath on the back of his neck. Ever since the conversation on the rock, things had been different between him and Charlie--more subdued, with less bickering, but also more distant. It was almost uncomfortable at times. It was if they were both unwilling to admit something, something Terrence knew he'd felt since the day he had been injured.

He had also had another owl from his family, once again imploring him to return. His sister was miserable with the husband she had been pressured to marry, but at least she was pregnant and providing the family with the heir Terrence never would. His mother had thrown herself into preparing for her first grandchild, but his father was still furious with Terrence for leaving the country again and refused to have anything to do with him. Terrence had another long talk with Maggie about both problems, but neither seemed to have a resolution that he could see.

Shaking his head, Terrence forced himself to concentrate: whatever else was going on, right now he and Charlie were finally succeeding with the Fireball, and he needed to stay focused so he didn't blow it. There would be time to figure out all the other complications in his life later. And perhaps he wouldn't have to: if Rosu was ready to accept a keeper, maybe Terrence could go back to Wales. He didn't want to, though, not anymore--he rather liked the reserve in Romania now that he'd been there two months, and it certainly kept him far away from his interfering family. There were other reasons, of course, but only Maggie knew those, and only because she had somehow guessed.

Rosu lay quietly as Terrence continued his examination, Charlie right behind him, a steady, protective presence. In spite of a rough start to their relationship, they had grown into strong partners, able to quickly wrangle most of the dragons on the reserve together, and now finally the Fireball. He was proud of their accomplishment and wished he could celebrate it, but he somehow doubted Charlie would feel the same.

"I don't see anything wrong physically," he finally said, gazing deep into Rosu's eyes. "I think it might have to do with Branwen. Poor beast." He rubbed at the bridge of dragon's nose; it was awfully close to a large mouthful of teeth, but it was also a sensitive, calming area for the animal, rather like scratching a Kneazle behind the ears.

"Careful," murmured Charlie, and Terrence turned to give him a roll of his eyes.

"He's fine. Want to try? I think he trusts us now." Terrence motioned at Charlie's arm. "Just lower your wand. I'll step back and cover you."

Charlie moved forward, implicitly trusting him, and touched the dragon. He glanced back at Terrence in surprise. "He's so hot!" he exclaimed quietly. "Much warmer than any of the others."

"Now you understand why I was so surprised to see him swimming when I first got here," Terrence replied. "They prefer warmth. I wasn't just being an arsehole."

"You were being a cocky git," Charlie murmured, but there was no real rancor to it as he was completely mesmerized by the dragon. Terrence watched him, knowing he would miss them both if he went back to Wales. Shaking his head of such thoughts, Terrence finally tapped Charlie on the shoulder and motioned him back. Rosu actually looked disappointed as they stepped away.

"Unless he's had something bad to eat, I can't see anything wrong with him," Terrence said. "I really do think he's heartbroken."

"I still wish there was something we could do," Charlie replied. "Where's Branwen?"

Terrence frowned. "You know, I haven't actually seen her at all since I heard them fighting yesterday. She's probably sulking in the mountains."

Charlie narrowed his eyes at the Fireball, then gazed back at the mountains. "Or maybe she's building a nest."

"Of course!" Terrence exclaimed. "They weren't fighting, they were mating! Wow, that was…" He wrinkled his nose as he remembered the sound: it had sounded nothing like the few other dragon couplings he'd heard. "…different."

"They're a rather unusual couple, though, aren't they?" asked Charlie.

"Well, it would certainly explain why we haven't seen her, why she's avoiding Rosu, and even why he's so tired." He grinned at Charlie. "We could have a mixed dragon egg on our hands soon."

Charlie grinned back. "I'd say that calls for a celebration if there ever was one!" He put his hand on Terrence's shoulder, and Terrence inhaled sharply when he felt a small shock at the other's man touch. Charlie must have felt it too, because he dropped his hand immediately, looking surprised, but then motioned him forward, back toward camp as if nothing had passed between them. "Come on, let's tell everyone."

Terrence frowned as he followed, trying to understand what had just happened, but he didn't know what it was or what to say. Really, there wasn't anything to say: they were working partners, nothing more, and they had just made a both a significant breakthrough and major discovery about their dragons. That was what he needed to focus on, nothing else, especially momentary fleeting feelings that the man in front of him clearly preferred to ignore--if he felt them at all.

They had not gone far, however, when Maggie appeared, slightly out of breath. "You've had an owl, Charlie," she said, handing him a large envelope. "He was dead tired when he got here, so I think it must be important, especially judging from the envelope."

Terrence glanced at the envelope and saw that it was sealed with an Urgency Charm to hasten its delivery, as well as a Sealing Spell, which meant whomever had sent it did not want anyone but Charlie to see it. Which was not unusual--most people sealed their letters with some version of the spell--but it was apparent this one was particularly powerful as the edges were burnt and it took Charlie some effort to release it. He thanked Maggie, who left them after a very suggestive glance at Terrence. Charlie did not see her; he was reading his letter, and face paled beneath his freckles. Terrence wondered if he had received bad news.

"I have to go home," Charlie finally said, looking up. Terrence was surprised to see both fear and anger in his eyes. "Something's happened in England." He turned and strode off toward his cabin without another word, and Terrence wasn't sure whether to go after him or continue with their announcement about Rosu and Branwen. He finally followed Charlie, straight into his cabin as he began to pack. Apparently it was extremely urgent.

"What's wrong?" Terrence finally asked. Charlie glanced up as if surprised to see him there. He shook his head and kept pulling together his things, haphazardly stuffing them into a large sack.

"My brother's best friend has just won the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts," he said. "But one of the other students was killed." He paused and stood up straight, closing his eyes as he blew out a breath. "By You-Know-Who."

"What?" Terrence said, as if he had heard Charlie wrong. "You don’t mean--"

"Yes, I do," Charlie replied, his voice strangely distant and calm now. "Voldemort is back."

"That's…that's not possible," Terrence stuttered. "That's insane, they don't know what they're talking about…"

"They're my family, they're not making it up, Higgs," Charlie snapped. He stopped and took a deep breath. "It was the other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory. He was a Seeker, too."

Terrence nodded, vague memories of having flown his last match against a young Hufflepuff Seeker floating through his mind as Charlie continued packing. It seemed so long ago, and so impossible, to think that a student had died, someone he had known, and that the Dark Lord could be responsible.

"I need to go home for a few days, something is happening and I need to be there," Charlie was saying. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Right," Terrence murmured, still too stunned by the implication to argue. He was a Slytherin. His parents were Slytherins. And while that might not matter in every case, Terrence knew perfectly well his father had supported Lord Voldemort during his first rise to power. Benjamin Higgs had only got out of Azkaban by claiming to be Imperiused, like so many others had done and been pardoned for. If the Dark Lord had truly returned, Terrence had little doubt his father would be called back to service--and he with him. He even wondered if his father had known about it already, and had wanted him to stay in England in order to be ready.

He shook his head: no, Charlie had just received his owl, so it must have happened recently. No doubt Terrence would be receiving his own owl shortly then, imploring him to return to his family, return to Gringotts, to settle down and marry a pure-blood and serve the Dark Lord. It was inevitable: he knew his family.

"Terrence, are you all right?" Charlie asked, standing before him with a concerned look on his face. He had his pack slung over his shoulder, ready to leave. Charlie was lucky: his family was important to him, and they supported him. They weren't calling him home for all the wrong reasons, they were calling him back for the right ones. And Terrence envied that, would have given anything to be a part of that.

He nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to find his voice. "I'm fine. I'm just…shocked, I guess. And worried. I'm worried about my family, about your family, about Llwytmor, about England…about you."

He reached out and put his hand to Charlie's shoulder just as Charlie had done earlier. He tried to ignore the feel of strong muscle beneath his hands, the warmth of skin, the tingle of even such brief contact; instead, he focused on Charlie's face, because he had to say something, even if he couldn't say it all. "Be careful. We made a breakthrough today, you know. I'll send Rosu after you if anything happens."

Charlie's pupils were very wide as he stared into Terrence's face; he had to feel it too, how could he not and look at him like that? Charlie cleared his throat. "Right. I'll be fine. I'll be back in a week. Promise."

He ducked under Terrence's arm, but turned before leaving the cabin. "You be careful too. I won't have your back, you know."

Terrence grinned in spite of the churning feeling in his gut that he might never see his partner again. "I'll be fine. I'll rein in my cocky git until you get back. Which will be dull and boring, but I can wait a week to take my next risk."

Charlie nodded slowly, his eyes studying Terrence's face, his mouth half open as if he wanted to say something. He didn't; he finally turned and left, and Terrence watched him go, wondering how it had come to all this and what would happen now.

* * *

Chapter Five

Charlie stumbled into his cabin, exhausted after the long trip back from the Burrow. He flicked on a light with his wand, set down his bag, and turned toward the door…only to stifle an exclamation when he found Maggie already standing there, obviously in her pyjamas, looking worried and upset.

"It's about time!" she exclaimed, sounding cross.

"Good to see you too, Maggie," Charlie mumbled, shaking his head at the welcome. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," she replied. "I need to talk to you."

"Well, I literally just got back, and it was a long trip." He stifled a yawn that he didn't need to fake in order to convince her he was telling the truth. "I'd really just like to fall into bed. Can we talk in the morning?"

"No," she said softly, closing the door. She looked intense. "He's leaving in the morning."

"Who?" Charlie asked, completely confused. "Look, Maggie, it took me six hours, two Portkeys, and an Apparition to get back. I'm exhausted."

"Sit down then," she ordered, going into Healer mode. "I'll do the talking. I'll even make some tea."

He did as he was told, resisting the urge to put his head down on the table and close his eyes as she bustled around the small kitchen to start some tea even though it was almost midnight.

"Terrence is going back to Wales the morning," she began. "You have to stop him."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked, abruptly sitting up straighter and wide-awake. "Why is he leaving?"

"A dozen reasons, all of which you would know if you had been here and talked to him about it." She turned and gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, I know it's hard for you two."

"Maggie, stop talking in riddles and just tell me what's going on!" Charlie exclaimed. She sat down across from him to wait for their tea. Pulling her long blond hair into a quick, messy bun, she tucked her feet beneath her and began.

"You've been gone almost three weeks, Charlie. We didn't even know if you were coming back, you were gone so long. And there have been rumors about why you left." She gave him a pointed look, which he acknowledged with a nod before she continued. He didn't want to say anything to her, not now in the middle of the night. He'd approach her another time, knowing she would almost certainly support the Order's cause, however that might be in Romania.

"Terrence got an owl, too," she was saying as he forced himself to focus. "A few days after you left. It was a letter from his mother, begging him to come home." She paused and took a breath. "Then he got another, from his father, just a few days ago, demanding the same thing. I think there's more, but he won't tell me, because now all of a sudden he's leaving."

Charlie just stared at her, his heart suddenly racing. Terrence was actually going to go home, give into his parent's demands and settle down with the nice day job and the pretty wife and--

He shook his head. No, there must be something else. Higgs wouldn't change his mind so completely, so quickly, without reason. Not after all the things he had said out on the rock.

"You're right, there's probably more," Charlie finally said. "He wouldn't just pick up and leave because of one letter from his father."

"That's why you have to talk to him!" Maggie exclaimed. The teakettle whistled and she stood to pour the hot water into the cups she had set out. "He won't tell me anything."

"What makes you think he'll tell me?" Charlie asked as she sat back down.

"Because you're his partner," she said very matter-of-factly. "And even if you won't admit it, you know there's more between you. You're both just too stubborn and arrogant to see it or believe it."

He knew he should have been shocked, or offended, or embarrassed, but he wasn't. Maggie was one of the most honest and perceptive people he had ever met, and a close friend since she had arrived as a replacement for their retired Healer. He trusted her and knew she was probably the best person he could confide it at the reserve; he probably should have talked to her earlier, only he had tried to deny it, over and over and over, until he had left and realized the truth of it.

"Or just scared," Charlie murmured, glancing up to see her reaction as she set the cup before him and sat down once more.

"There's nothing to be scared of, Charlie Weasley," Maggie said. "You two just tamed a Chinese Fireball. You've had more scratches and burns than anyone over the last few months. You're not scared of dragons, so why would you be scared of each other?"

Again Charlie just stared at her, speechless at her blunt reproach. Finally he shook his head. "You're right, of course…but that doesn't mean much if he's leaving."

"He'll stay if you ask," Maggie said. "I know he will. I think that's one reason he's leaving: he doesn't think he has anything to stay for. Not you, not the Fireball. Talk to him. Please."

Charlie nodded slowly, even though the thought terrified him now that he was facing it head on. He had thought about it constantly on his way back to the reserve and had not once figured out how to start. "Okay, I will. But I have no idea what to say."

"What did you say to Lauren, to Jake?" asked Maggie. "To me? Nothing. Sometimes words aren't really necessary, you know."

"This is different," Charlie said. He didn't know why it was any different, but it was. He had talked to his brother about it a bit at the Burrow, though most of their time had been spent doing business for the fledging new Order of the Phoenix and there had been little opportunity to go into detail. But Bill had told him the same thing: he just needed to say something, get it out in the open, and move on from there, whatever happened.

And really, if two such different dragons as Rosu and Branwen could find it in themselves to bond on a lake in Romania, why not their keepers?

* * *

Terrence woke up before dawn the next morning, completely exhausted. For the third night in a row he'd slept poorly, thoughts of leaving Romania and returning to his family's estate in Yorkshire running listlessly through his mind as he tossed and turned hour after hour. He didn't want to leave, but what did he have to stay for? Charlie had left and even though he had said he would return--promised it, even-- he had been gone three weeks. Something was either keeping him in England, or else he simply didn't want to come back; either way, Terrence feared the worst.

Rosu didn't need him: he'd recovered from his brief depression and disappeared into the mountains for a week, finally returning to the lake to swim by himself. After a few days Branwen appeared for brief periods, though she did not stay for long and always flew back to the mountains instead of to the shore or the reserve grounds. It seemed to confirm their suspicions: Branwen had laid her egg, and had likely accepted Rosu back into her life now that the worst was over and they waited for it to hatch.

His family didn't need him, not really, but still they pressured him mercilessly to return, and therein lay the problem. His mother's letter had hinted at some of the things Charlie had said about the Dark Lord; his father's letter had so much as confirmed it. His mother had begged him to come home and be with the family; his father had demanded that he return and offer his life in service to the new direction the country would soon be heading.

Which meant Terrence would take up arms for Voldemort, whether he liked it or not. He was being called to follow in his father's footsteps…or he would be disowned and cut from the family fortune, removed from the family tree, never to see or speak to them again.

Terrence didn't care about the money, but he cared about his mother and his sister, and even his father. He did not want to see the former upset--or worse, forced into servitude to the Dark Lord against their wishes. If he went home, he could at least be with them, protect them. He would join Voldemort's quiet uprising with his father, but he would hate every minute of it.

He did not want to take the Dark Mark, he did not want to fight for anyone. He had no reason not to leave, other than he wanted to stay. He wanted to work with dragons, alone and away from whatever was happening in England. But maybe his wishes didn't matter anymore: Weasley had left, after all, with little word to any of them, little thought of him or the dragons or the reserve. If Charlie could leave, so could he.

But as he began packing his things, he doubted himself once more. Maybe he should request a transfer, go to Africa or even back to China. He felt like he was always running from his family, but he saw no other solution: they would hound him until he did as they wished or forget he even existed.

He finished packing, sat down on his bed, and glanced around the small cabin he had actually come to call home. It felt abruptly claustrophobic: he needed to be outside with his dragons on his last day. So he left his things and headed down to the lake. The sun was just rising, and he doubted the dragons would actually be out so early, but he could still enjoy one last hour of peace.

He had not been there long, idly skipping stones into the still water, when he heard someone come up behind him. He tried to stop his heart jumping in his chest: he would have known if Charlie had come back, so it was likely Maggie, come to try and talk him out of leaving again. He sighed.

"It's all right," he called over his shoulder without looking back, skipping another rock across the surface. "I know you're there. You won't talk me out of it, though."

"I can still try," said a gruff voice. Terrence whirled, his breath catching in his chest as he saw Weasley standing behind him with crooked grin. It was all he could do to stop from both embracing his absent partner with relief and knocking him hard across the head. Instead, he covered up his surprise with the snark he had first met the other man with.

"You came back," he said, hoping he sounded far more casual than he felt. "We thought you'd given up on us out here--settled down in England, maybe."

"It's not my thing," Charlie murmured, joining him at the edge of the rock. "And it's not yours either, but Maggie said you were leaving--going back home."

"Maggie's right," Terrence replied, continuing to busy himself the stones he had gathered, tossing them into the water with more and more force.

"Why?"

"It's just something I have to do," Terrence said. Which was, in a way, exactly the truth.

"You said you didn't want to go back, take their job, marry their pretty witch." Charlie frowned. "One owl and you're leaving behind everything you've worked so hard for? What changed your mind?

Terrence laughed through his nose. "One owl sent you rushing home, why not me?"

"I went home for an emergency," Charlie protested. "And I came back, just like I said I would."

"You're late," Terrence snapped. "So you missed the rest of the story, sorry."

He could hear Charlie blow out his breath in frustration and was sure the other man would shout right back. Instead, he sat down on the cold rock, elbows on his knees as he stared at the ground and spoke.

"Please tell me," he finally said, his voice very soft. "I want to know why you're leaving."

The tone of Charlie's voice stopped Terrence short: he not only sounded worried, but like he actually meant it--as if he really did want to know, maybe even cared. Terrence had not expected to give in so soon, but with a sigh he sat on the edge of the rock, feet dangling over the edge, and found he couldn't fight it: he had to say something, so at least someone knew.

"I had an owl from my father," he began, and Charlie nodded.

"That's what Maggie told me. But what did he say to change your mind?" Charlie pierced him with his shrewd brown eyes. "I know there's more, because they've been sending you owls for months. What was different?"

Terrence shook his head, taking a deep breath to keep his voice steady. "My father demanded I return to England, or he will disown me completely."

"Bollocks." Charlie whistled under his breath.

"Oh, it's gets better." Terrence looked at the sky as he said it. "He fought for the Dark Lord the first time, you know. I'm certain he intends for me to join the Death Eaters."

"No!" Charlie jumped up, arms flailing. "You can't do that, you're not one of them--Terrence, you can't go--"

"I have no reason to stay, and every reason to go." The logical part of him knew that wasn't entirely true--he still had choices. He had defied his parents and left Gringotts to go to China, for Merlin's sake. He could stay, hidden away in the Romanian mountains, or even go back to Wales, though it would be much closer to the coming conflict. He would be disowned and disinherited if he remained a dragon keeper, but what was that really? In some ways he had been on his own since the day he had left the bank and never returned.

The Slytherin part of him recoiled at losing his honor and family name, though. And he could protect his mother and sister, couldn't he? Wouldn't they be safer with him to look over them in a world where the Dark Lord had returned?

No, that wasn't it, and he knew it. He knew exactly what he was running away from, because it was right before him, staring at him with bright eyes. Terrence stood, deliberately keeping his back to Charlie as he mindlessly tossed the last few rocks in the lake. He heard Charlie draw a shaky breath.

"Stay for me," Charlie said, his voice so soft Terrence could barely hear him.

"I didn't even think you were coming back," Terrence returned, hoping anger might fuel his refusal; it didn't. His voice was flat, because he felt only a deep sadness.

"I did, and I need your help now." Charlie touched his arm and forced him to turn around. "Please."

"With Rosu?" Terrence asked, allowing his skepticism to show on his face. "You'll be fine on your own, you know that. You could probably even introduce him to another keeper now."

"Bloody hell, Higgs, I'm not talking about Rosu!" Charlie exclaimed, and his arms were flailing again.

"Then what do you need my help with?" Terrence asked.

"I need someone to help me…well, recruit for the resistance, back in England…to fight…" He trailed off at the look on Terrence's face.

"You want me to stay and help you fight the Dark Lord? Are you serious?" Terrence couldn't help but laugh, suddenly feeling almost hysterical at the ridiculousness of what Charlie was asking of him. "I'm being called to go back and join him, and you want me to stay here and fight him instead? Are you mad?" Now, at last, the anger was flowing. Was that all Charlie wanted? His help? To defy his family once more, stay and fight against them?

"I need you--" Charlie started, but Terrence stopped him with a violent slash of his hand through the air between them.

"You don't need anything, Weasley," he practically spat. "You're so stubborn, you just want--"

Charlie grabbed his wrist and stared into his face, his lips a thin red line, brown eyes staring into his soul.

"I want you," he growled, the warmth from his hand searing into Terrence's arm. He stared at their interlocked arms before wrenching himself away from the burning connection. He tried to muster another furious retort, but he felt abruptly drained. He had nothing anymore, just bitter defeat.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Terrence said, barely mustering the ability to stare at him defiantly, as if daring him to break down the wall between them.

"Yes, I do," said Charlie, and he looked somewhat abashed after his outburst. "We've both been ignoring it, avoiding it, talking around it--but it's there, this thing between us. I think you've felt it too."

Terrence was silent as Charlie took a step forward, but the smallest flutter of hope had appeared within him. He knew it was true, had known it for a while, but he had accepted that nothing would ever happen between them as working partners. Yet now that seemed about to change, and a small smiled played at his lips as he slowly nodded.

"I have," he said, knowing with those few words he had made his choice. He couldn't go home and marry someone he didn't love, take a job he would ever enjoy, fight for a madman he could never believe in. He belonged in Romania. He belonged with the dragons. He belonged with Charlie Weasley. "But I didn't think you did, stubborn prat."

* * *

Charlie raised an eyebrow, even though his heart was racing with relief. In spite of what Maggie had told him, he had never been so scared in his life admitting what he had just said to Terrence. Yet the thought of Terrence leaving was overwhelming and had finally pulled it out of him.

"Good thing I'm a Gryffindor prat then," Charlie replied, "since one of us had to work up the guts to say something." He stepped closer and reached for Terrence's hand. Terrence glanced down at it, eyes narrowed.

"Please stay," Charlie murmured. "I really do need you."

He moved closer still and could feel the warmth of Terrence's body against his. "I'll be disinherited, disowned," Terrence murmured as their lips seemed to move toward one another of their own accord.

"But you don't want to go back, get married, sit behind a desk," Charlie said, and he raised his other hand to Terrence's face, sending a shiver rippling through them both. "And you can't join You-Know-Who. You can't."

"I know," Terrence replied, staring into his face. Charlie was transfixed by his lips, his eyes, each and every detail on the face that was so very close he could feel warm breath on his neck that threatened to fell him right there. "But I--"

He was cut off as Charlie threw caution to the wind and leaned forward to crush their lips together. They both gasped as the initial shock of it passed between them, then Terrence stepped into it even as Charlie pulled him closer. He closed his eyes and let the longing overwhelm him, knowing it was right, had been right all along, only they both had refused to see it or believe it.

"I'll stay," Terrence finally murmured, pulling away. Charlie's eyes widened slightly, because a part of him had still feared it would all be for nothing. "But Merlin's beard, it won't be easy."

Charlie grinned. "What, the bit with us or the bit with your family?"

"Both," Terrence tossed back. "And the part with You-Know-Who."

"I know," Charlie replied, nodding soberly. "Believe me, I know. It's why I was gone so long. But I think leaving also helped me sort things out. And I really do need your help."

Terrence sighed. "I'll do what I can," he said. Charlie grinned again and pulled him close, arms around his waist.

"And I'll do whatever I can to make it easier for you," he said, and he meant it to be both a bit cheeky and completely serious.

"You can help me unpack, to start," Terrence said, and for the first time in days Charlie felt like laughing. It seemed odd, though, to be happy when he knew terrible things were going to happen soon. Yet why shouldn't they enjoy whatever time they had together, before the world turned dark?

"Whatever it takes," Charlie replied. "But first we should talk to--"

He was interrupted by the call of a dragon overhead. Rosu flew over the rock, strong wings flapping in the light summer breeze as he roared a greeting. Behind him flew Branwen, leaving her nest for a rare early morning flight together. They circled the lake as if performing for their keepers, until Rosu splashed down into the water with another roar. Branwen joined him for a quick swim; she would need to return to her nest quickly, before the egg lost too much heat.

Charlie gazed out at the lake just as he had the day Terrence had arrived, yet then they had been watching only the Fireball, swimming in the cold water by himself. Now Rosu was no longer alone, having found his match in the Romanian mountains. It was a remarkable sight, the red and green together, one that would never fail to fill him with awe, one he was glad to be able to share.

And as Terrence slipped a hand into his once more, Charlie nodded wordlessly, suddenly understanding so much more, and together they sat down on the rock and watched their dragons on the water.

* * *