Although September was rapidly approaching its end, the days were still glowing warm and golden, so unlike the previous year when the lands had been prematurely frozen, shrouded in the mist of Dementors. Summer lingered everywhere, seemingly never-ending and reluctant to walk away from the prolonged party of their victory. Everywhere people smiled; peace had become something tangible and every morning was a cause for celebration.
On this Saturday evening the sun loomed low over Ottery St Catchpole, but the air was still warm, carrying a gentle breeze from the south. It seemed particularly quiet now, after the earlier hours of merry banter around the dining table, and later the laughter and shouts brought on by Quidditch.
Ginny and Oliver had been the first to leave, to everyone’s surprise and to Molly’s poorly disguised delight. They all knew how much he cared for a good game, so it wasn’t difficult to guess how besotted he was by her if he would willingly walk away from one.
Ron and Hermione had departed shortly afterwards, to her parents’ home where, for a change, he was a guest. Unlike the first couple, they were followed by the whistling and catcalls of the twins, but to their disappointment Ron had seemed unabashed and at ease, his arm wrapped around Hermione’s shoulders “ not for protection, but comfort.
Another hour or so, and Molly and Fleur were nodding off on the ground, comfortably leaned against one another, each with a hand on Fleur’s perfectly rounded stomach. Eventually, the sight of them had called their husbands from the game in the air, and they returned to the house. Molly, contentment radiating from her, had only managed a very casual not too late, children before they left the field.
The sweet silence had settled after Fred and George left, insisting that they needed their beauty sleep if they were going to open up the shop on Sunday morning. We can’t all be lazy like you lot, Fred had laughed, dodging the Quaffle as he Disapparated in mid-air. An echo of their merriment still mingled with the buzzing of sleepy insects and the high calls of evening birds.
Only four of them remained now, engaged in a relaxed passing and shooting of the red ball, not really keeping score but simply flying and playing for fun. They were quite evenly matched; Charlie and Katie, both very good, were playing against Harry, who was excellent, and Lucas, who had improved a great deal over the long summer.
He had been invited here today, not by Charlie but by Molly Weasley herself, just like several times before. On the first couple of occasions Lucas had assumed that she was acting from some feeling of obligation, that she was doing her best to repay him for saving her son’s life with second helpings of every delicious dish. But no matter how thoroughly he had prodded her heart with his strange sense, he couldn’t catch any trace of aversion. After that he had broadened his examinations, carefully appraising the emotions of the extended Weasley family. But all he found was acceptance.
“Last goal wins?” Katie suggested, a few feet above him. She was dressed in pale blue robes of some light, flowing fabric, and every time Harry looked at her, the depth of his adoration made Lucas’ heart leap in joyful sympathy.
Their game picked up speed ever so slightly as the Gryffindors caught the enticing scent of victory, and Lucas played along to the best of his ability, savouring the mild excitement. Katie was the only trained Chaser of the group, which became only too obvious as she zoomed past him, Quaffle tucked safely under her right arm. But Harry, while surely too slight for a Keeper, was impossibly fast, and he blocked her attempt to score, easily passing the ball to Lucas. With Katie on his tail, he flew towards the other end of the field where Charlie was waiting by the hoops, a huge grin on his face.
The sight stirred something inside of him, a feeling of absolute camaraderie. He could never say if this emotion came from himself or from his friend. But, as always, it caused Lucas’ own smile to widen, and he leaned closer to his broom, determined to find a way past the over-confident figure in front of him.
He would have as well, he was sure, if Katie hadn’t stooped to one of her more professional Chaser moves and removed the Quaffle from his possession without visible effort. Before he had quite grasped what was happening, she was darting once again towards her fiancé. Lucas had as little hope of catching up with her as Harry had of blocking another shot, and Charlie’s laughter boomed victoriously over the open area. He clapped his hands together and Katie bowed with an elaborate flourish, before removing Harry’s frown with a kiss on his cheek. She flew up alongside Lucas then, and extended her hand.
“Well played, my friend,” she said, feigning politeness to hide her giggles. “I believe there’s hope for you, after all.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Charlie chuckled as they all descended towards the earth together. “Compared to our first games last winter, you were bloody amazing.”
Lucas listened to their teasing with an easy feeling in his chest. He couldn’t recall ever enjoying himself as much as he did in the company of these three people. Their emotions blended together without friction, creating a perfect climate for him and his ability. He felt how Harry wound his fingers through Katie’s, and had to fight back a knowing grin when a current of expectation flowed between them.
“Good game,” Harry commented, handing his broom to Charlie to be put away. “But I’m knackered, so unless my lady wants to stay and gloat a little longer, perhaps we should head home?”
Katie smirked. “I suppose you could convince me to come along.”
“Excellent,” he smiled, pulling her closer for Side-Along Apparation, not wanting to be parted from her even for such a brief moment. “Thanks for tonight, Charlie “ Lucas.”
“See you soon,” Charlie said, and Lucas nodded.
And with the softest pop!, they were gone.
“Ah, those two,” Charlie mumbled while summoning another broomstick from the ground.
“I wonder how soon they’ll get married,” Lucas mused as he followed Charlie’s lead, gathering the scattered brooms and carrying them to the shed.
“Probably tomorrow if it were up to Harry,” Charlie guessed. “But Katie has a little more sense; she’ll probably put him through Auror training first.”
“He’ll need that if she’s going to be his wife,” Lucas said with a dramatic sigh, feeling a familiar surge of pleasure as Charlie laughed at his attempt at humour.
They stowed away the Quidditch equipment in silence, and left the door unlocked. When Charlie turned in the direction of the house, Lucas knew that he ought to leave, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words of parting. Also, he could not sense that Charlie wished to be alone, and so he walked by his side towards the orchard. The trees were heavy with ripe fruits; red and yellow apples hung from the branches. Knowing well how outdoorsy Charlie was, Lucas wasn’t particularly surprised to see him sit down at the foot of an ancient tree, leaning his back against its broad trunk and stretching luxuriously. It felt natural to take a seat beside him, and Lucas felt content as he let his eyelids fall and filter out the brightness of the last sunlight.
“Thirsty?” Charlie inquired, and he nodded in response, eyes still closed.
Lucas heard how Charlie found his wand, and skilfully conjured a couple of cold Butterbeers. He held out his hand for one of them, and let his fingers close around the cool glass as Charlie passed him the bottle. He brought it to his lips and drank deeply, even thirstier than he had realised. Opening his eyes again, he drew in a full breath that smelled of hay, apples and warm bodies.
“Thanks.”
“Welcome,” Charlie said, his voice as relaxed as his posture.
They sat together on the ground without speaking, each immersed in the windings of his own mind, but still happy to be in the company of the other. The golden orb soon climbed beneath the treetops of the faraway woods, casting long shadows over the fields and bathing them in dappled light. Lucas was feeling drowsy, close to sleep, and wasn’t paying enough attention to realise that Charlie had begun to snore. Not until his friend’s head fell onto his shoulder did he notice that Charlie was no longer awake. Lucas made to nudge him out of his dreamlands, but hesitated for just a moment.
There was something oddly enjoyable about the nearness, and Lucas wondered if this was what it felt like to have a brother, being able to lean against another man without feeling awkward. He turned his head to get a better view of Charlie’s face. This close, he was able to make out individual freckles on the tanned forehead; a river of them ran across the bridge of his nose and over his cheekbones. The faintest red stubble was visible on his upper lip and chin, and, to his immense surprise, Lucas found that he longed to reach out and brush his fingertips against it.
Convinced that such an action would be anything but brotherly, he chose to elbow Charlie in the ribs instead, bringing his deep snores to an end. The red-head sat up straight, groaning and stifling a yawn.
“You’re never going to get married unless you do something about that snoring of yours,” Lucas teased, fondness seeping into his voice as he watched Charlie rub his eyes.
“Oh, shut up,” he retorted. “I don’t snore.”
“Like a hibernating grizzly bear,” Lucas went on, earning himself a playful shove. “Perhaps we ought to get you inside if you’re going to be dozing off on me.”
“Nah, I think I’ll sleep outside tonight. All this lying in beds can’t be good for me; I’m going to go all soft and weak.” Waving his wand again, Charlie conjured some thick, green blankets; one of them somehow snuck its way beneath the grass and their bodies.
“Cosy,” Lucas commented. “And don’t you worry,” he continued, “perhaps Bill can get you a position at Gringotts, now that your days as a dragon tamer have come to an end.” His tone was light, joking still.
But there was no reply from the man next to him. Some agitation appeared in Charlie’s chest and Lucas, better attuned to his feelings than anyone else’s, noticed at once.
“Charlie? Are you all right?”
“M’fine,” Charlie assured him, and as he drew a deep breath the moment of unease passed. While he wasn’t entirely convinced, Lucas chose not object when his friend changed the subject. “Mum was really pleased that you could make it tonight,” he informed Lucas, quite unnecessarily.
“It’s not like I have a busy schedule,” Lucas smiled. There was no bitterness in his voice; gone were the days when empty calendar had equalled empty days. “With Maximilian gone to France again, it’s good that I get out now and then or else I would probably become a complete hermit.”
“Yeah, and we’d like to avoid that, if possible,” Charlie chuckled. “But I was being serious. They like you, all of them. Well, except maybe Fred and George “ I think that you’re going to irritate them to death, always knowing who’s who.”
Lucas laughed. It was true; he had no problem with telling the identical twins apart. While they looked as much alike to him as they did to anyone else, their emotions were still different. Being around people who felt so much and so deeply, and also allowing himself to experience those emotions, Lucas had discovered that each of their hearts, whatever feelings it emitted, had its own… tenor, somehow. When his extra sense picked up a whiff of happiness, he could not only tell that it was that “ joy “ but also who it came from.
“It’s not that difficult.” He tried to sound casual. “Not if you pay attention.”
“Lucas, I’ve known them their whole life, and I can’t always tell who’s Fred and who’s George.” Charlie sat up a little straighter, and turned to face him. “Hell, not even our mother can.”
Lucas stiffened ever so slightly, watching Charlie’s expression in the twilight. He tried to make out what his intentions were, steering their conversation in this direction.
“Maybe it’s a gift,” he shrugged.
“Maybe it is,” Charlie agreed, his gaze suddenly piercing. “Lucas, I’ve been wondering for a while now…”
“What?” He braced himself, wondering how the mood could have turned so tense, so quickly.
“You’re not “ are you some kind of natural Legilimens? A mind-reader?” Charlie leaned in closer, and it seemed that he was intrigued rather than apprehensive.
Lucas made sure that his voice was steady before answering. “No, I’m not.”
“Then what are you? Because I swear that you always seem to know what’s going on in my head, so you must be something.”
The air was cooling rapidly now, once the sun had finally set, and Lucas felt a shiver run through his body. Save for the few words he’d exchanged with his father on the subject, he had never talked about his ability with anyone, ever before. He had no way of knowing what kind of reaction he would get if he were to tell Charlie the truth. But if he couldn’t talk to him about it, then surely he must keep quiet forever; it was unlikely that there would ever be another person to care so much about him that there might be a chance they would stay, once having learned about his abnormality.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, of course…” Charlie mumbled, sensing his hesitancy.
“I’m not “ I do want to tell you, but… it will probably bother you. A lot.”
“Try me.” Charlie grinned reassuringly and thumped a fist against his chest. “Dragon keeper, remember?”
Lucas managed a weak smile. “I’m not something, Charlie. It’s just… I can sense feelings.”
“That’s all?”
“Is it not enough?”
“Not enough to bother me, no. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
They were still looking intently at each other, but the tension was fading as quickly as it had built, and Lucas found his own relief being mingled with Charlie’s.
“You’re relieved,” he stated, plainly, now that he was able to.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll give it to you. A little bothersome.”
“But why?”
“Oh, I’m just glad to know that you’re not some all-powerful mind-reader, that’s all.”
“Again “ why?” Lucas inquired, not understanding why that might have disturbed Charlie so.
Some strong emotion flickered past, but it was too brief; he failed to catch its meaning before Charlie suppressed it.
“What? Would you be comfortable hanging around with someone who knew your every thought?”
“I suppose not,” Lucas nodded, but he was preoccupied, trying to decipher the state of Charlie’s emotions. It was confusing like never before. He shook his head, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. “So if I had been a Legilimens… what would you have done?”
“Oh, I would have severed every tie, of course. Cut you out of my life completely.”
He knew Charlie wasn’t being serious, but couldn’t help frowning a little. “Thanks. That’s nice of you, friend.”
And what was that? Worry, and a little guilt? Something unexpected, something unusual for Charlie, that made him lift his hand and place it on Lucas’ shoulder where his head had rested a little while ago.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I know you didn’t,” Lucas replied, mystified. Charlie’s emotions should have been easier to understand now, with his touch opening up a pathway between them. But it was all blurred, confusing still, as if Charlie was trying to hide his feelings on purpose. Lucas examined his face closely, but Charlie shied away, withdrawing his hand and dropping his gaze. Bewildered further, Lucas prodded for an explanation.
“Are you sure you’re all right? This isn’t like you; you’re all… tense.”
“I’m fine,” Charlie said again, but Lucas was even less convinced this time. “Though, I probably should talk to you,” he added, rubbing his chin.
Lucas waited politely for him to continue, unable to make sense of the torrents of emotions that spun and twisted past him. When Charlie said nothing for a couple of minutes, he grew uncharacteristically impatient.
“About what?” he asked, and, for emphasis, put his hand on Charlie’s knee.
It was a casual gesture; he had meant to mirror the way his friend had touched his shoulder. But Charlie twitched, as though he had been whipped or burned. His heartbeats picked up speed and his feelings settled into place, becoming bright and clear.
Lucas’ lips parted to release small gasp, and his eyebrows shot up in unconcealed surprise. His first impulse was to remove his hand, but surely that couldn’t be the reason for Charlie’s reaction. Incredulous, he applied the tiniest pressure of his fingertips, seeking a response to gauge.
“Charlie…?”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He jerked away from Lucas, onto his feet. In the bleak light he was but a silhouette, yet the deep shadows that hid his face did nothing to conceal his heart. The new force of his affection was deafening as thunder, and Lucas could only stare, completely stunned.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie muttered again, his voice thick with… pain? Lucas unfroze at that discovery, and grasped within his numb mind for some kind of eloquent reply. But Charlie went on before he had a chance to find one.
“I never meant for you to “ Lucas, I “ Please don’t think that…” he trailed off, and his arms dropped to his sides; defeat and shame radiated from him.
Impossible.
How could this be happening?
Lucas stood up, slowly, and pulled his fingers through the smooth strands of his hair, trying to tug some clarity into his head. For a ridiculous moment he wondered if he really had fallen asleep and was stumbling through one of his dreams; the sweet fragrance of the early night seemed to indicate as much, and so did the sight of Charlie’s frame against the black sky. He spoke again, sounding dull now, and sad.
“I guess you’re leaving?”
Leaving? What? How could Charlie think that he would -
The rhythm of his own heart escalated then, when he understood the control that had somehow dropped into his trembling hands. It was an overwhelming power that he suddenly held, one that granted him liberty to act on all the impulses he had ever suppressed in the company of this man. Charlie, so confident and courageous, at ease wherever he went in this world, was at his mercy now. His feelings hung exposed between them, and he was entirely oblivious of them being returned.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you ask me to, at least.”
Hope. Fear. Surprise. Excitement. They flashed past like falling stars, blinding his sense with their intensity.
“What?”
“I’m staying.”
Lucas could not understand how his voice could be so calm, his limbs so steady when he sat back down on the blanket. Looking up at Charlie, he offered him a small smile. The air was saturated with his disbelief and Lucas sighed, a little frustrated at his inability to release his friend from this tremendous discomfort.
“Charlie, please sit.”
He did so, if hesitantly, and only to perch himself at the very edge of the blanket. Still he did not understand. But he was Charlie, and even though he was nearly consumed with awkwardness he would not walk away. Lucas could not help but smile a little wider; Charlie’s strength never failed, even when he was at his weakest.
“But you know what I feel,” he said, confused.
“Yes, I do.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
“That’s… well, wow. You’re open-minded.”
He had to chuckle at that, and with the reassurance of Charlie’s emotions he dared to move forward, lean closer, and reach out.
“Open-hearted, more like,” he said, softly, and brushed brave fingertips over the now-invisible stubble on Charlie’s chin. “Well, trying to be,” he added.
Lucas thought the sensation might crush him when he felt the force of Charlie’s relief at his simple words and gentle touch. He had to close his eyes and focus on breathing properly, and his hand fell onto the blanket. It rested there in solitude for only the briefest moment, before both of Charlie’s hands closed around it. They were rough, calloused still, with scars of old burns and blisters, yet they felt better against his skin than anything Lucas had ever experienced before. His eyelids flew open, and his sight was instantly drawn to Charlie’s astonished gaze.
“I can’t believe it,” Charlie mumbled. “What an idiot I’ve been.”
Lucas felt that he ought to object to that, but he was distracted; his free hand rose of its own accord, hungry for Charlie’s face. It discovered his hair, too, and he couldn’t tell what pleased him most, his own delight or Charlie’s, as he combed through the tousled red masses.
It was Charlie now, who edged closer, his hands letting go of Lucas’ as they reached for his shoulders instead. The weight of them was comforting as they rested there for a moment, before the pad of his thumb stroked over Lucas’ cheek. It was smooth as ever, what with his Veela blood preventing the growth of any mentionable facial hair. But Charlie did not seem to mind; Lucas felt his thrill as he continued exploring his features in the dark.
His palms came to a halt at last, at either side of Lucas’ face, cradling it as though he were something precious. His own hands, Lucas realised, were on Charlie’s back, discovering it through the thin cotton of his shirt. They were close now, so close, and greedily he breathed in the scent of Charlie. It was a warm smell, like sunlight on pine trees, and he savoured it. Gently, Charlie tilted his head towards him, and he drew a deep breath too, but to speak.
“Can I…?” The question faded unasked, but Lucas did not need it to know what Charlie wanted.
He gave his consent by closing the small distance between them, pressing his fingers into Charlie’s back to pull him nearer. Their foreheads rested against each other’s for a second, before their lips were brought together.
Lucas had imagined that kissing Charlie would be rough, and somehow wild. It wasn’t. He was so tender, so careful, yet the smooth movements of his mouth made Lucas’ pulse beat painfully against his eardrums. And the feelings “ his own and Charlie’s, indistinguishable at this point “ they tore through him with a ripping force. When their tongues untangled and their lips parted, it was all he could do to stop a choked sob from escaping.
They found themselves horizontal on the blanket, and Charlie reached for another one to shelter them with, before he wrapped his arms around Lucas, somehow knowing that he needed soothing. And Lucas let himself be calmed; if a dragon could succumb to Charlie’s touch, how could he possibly resist it?
Together they lay quietly, sharing the warmth of their impromptu nest at the edge of the orchard. Curious fingertips sought aimlessly under the cover as the minutes quickly passed and as a pale yellow moon rose above them, like a softer impression of the sun. Some stray wisps of clouds were scattered across the dark vault, painted silver by the moonlight. Lucas sighed deeply, enthralled, as Charlie’s lips moved over his skin.
“How did you hide this from me?” His voice was ragged, but he couldn’t quite care enough to be embarrassed. “How is it possible that I didn’t sense it?”
“Beats me,” Charlie mumbled, mouth at his collarbone. “But, perhaps…” he continued, lifting his head a little. “I tried not to think about it, you know, since I thought that you could read my mind.”
“Idiot,” Lucas agreed to the opinion Charlie had expressed about himself earlier.
“I know,” he laughed quietly, moving upwards again until he found a pair of willing lips.
Lucas could feel their mutual hunger in that kiss and he strained closer, welding his own chest to Charlie’s. His hands, moving without any conscious guidance, caressed their way down the sides of Charlie’s torso, stopping at his narrow hips where they curled around the leather belt. Deepening the kiss, Charlie tugged at Lucas’ robes, equally heedless, seeking to expose more skin. Encouraged, Lucas made to unbuckle him.
“God, Lucas, wait,” Charlie groaned, hugging him closer still to stop his fumbling fingers.
“What?” Lucas breathed.
“I still need to talk to you.”
They fell away from each other, ever so slightly, in an attempt to clear their minds and steady their hearts. When Lucas could trust his voice to carry out complete words, he touched Charlie’s arm, worriedly, and asked.
“There’s something else?”
“Yes. Ha,” Charlie laughed without humour, a tremor in his tone. “I meant to talk to you about that, not this.” His finger travelled over Lucas’ lower lip, illustrating what this was.
But Lucas was stiff under his touch, and he felt cold. “Tell me.”
Charlie hesitated for one very long minute, looking for a way to avoid the inevitable. Resigned, he spoke.
“I’m going to the North. The Ministry is giving me funds for a research trip.”
“The north?”
“Scandinavia somewhere,” Charlie clarified, misery in his voice. “To do a study on Short-Snouts.”
Lucas tried to process this. He turned it over in his mind, and quickly discovered all the ways in which the knowledge hurt. But he was not the only one in pain; Charlie ached, too.
“It’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, isn’t it?”
Charlie nodded quietly against his palm.
“When?”
“November.”
A little more than a month. It seemed impossibly soon. A lump appeared in his throat at the thought of separation, but he didn’t think to argue against Charlie’s impending departure. He knew this man and his deep passion for dragons, and how he had been aching to go back to them, longing for a chance to work with them again. Lucas was afraid to ask, but he managed somehow.
“How long will you be gone?”
“One year.” He sounded reluctant. “To begin with. They want a comprehensive study.”
“Oh.” It was all he could think to say.
“I’m sorry.” Charlie eyes begged for understanding and forgiveness. “I shouldn’t have… Not when I knew…”
“Don’t be sorry,” Lucas asked of him. He swallowed down the sadness. “I would rather have these hours than nothing.”
“Really?”
He nodded, trying to find the words to explain. “If it’s something I have learned over this past year, during this war, it’s to enjoy things while I have them. We would be fools not to. You might be leaving, but you’re here now.”
“Lucas…”
But he wasn’t finished. “And maybe you’ll be back.”
“Yes,” Charlie sighed, but without any false promises of when that might be. He touched Lucas’ face again. “So… You wouldn’t mind spending time with me before I go?”
Lucas smiled, faintly. “No, I wouldn’t mind. In fact…” He paused, both nervous and excited about the suggestion that hesitated at the tip of his tongue. Borrowing some courage from the man in his arms, he let it spring.
“If you want, you could come stay with me at Merridown for a bit. We would be alone there for a few weeks.”
Charlie relaxed in his embrace, and a wide grin spread over his face.
“I would like that.” His heart beat evenly with delight, and his grin grew suddenly mischievous. “If you think you can handle the snoring.”