Dragon Tamer

Draco wasn\'t at all happy to wake up. It was Pettigrew, sure enough. The man wasn\'t as brilliant a wizard as a true dark lord. The feedback had certainly shocked Draco into a stunned unconsciousness for a week, but it hadn\'t killed him. Worse yet for Pettigrew, it left a signature that was like a magical fingerprint only even more undeniable, because it left the wizard easily identified by an Auror.

The trapdoor that Pettigrew had set up in his spells had been intended to kill whoever sought to identify him. The last thing Draco remembered was being surrounded in green light, and now he awoke. It was dark. He was warm, too warm. He could feel weight against him and he heard breathing. He blinked a few times, looking around the rather cluttered room, shelves of books, clothes here and there, children\'s paintings. He was in Charlie\'s room. He looked down at the arms that were locked securely around him. Arms freckled so densely that he looked tanned. The skin was rough and mottled with bright pink new growth in places. Charlie.

Immediately Draco started to struggle out of the arms, not at all appreciating the forced intimacy between himself and the other man. The movement woke Charlie, of course. \"Draco!\" he exclaimed.

\"Why aren\'t I in a proper hospital?\" he asked as he squirmed from Charlie\'s forceful embrace that was growing tighter.

\"You were, for a few days. They said all you needed was rest now, that there was nothing magically or physically wrong with you but simple shock when I brought you here,\" answered Charlie who patiently worked to turn Draco around. \"It was good I\'d stayed in that room with you.\"

\"Good for whom?\" asked Draco disdainfully as he was slowly rag dolled around to face the redhead. He glared into the other man\'s brown eyes. Draco was shocked to see them bloodshot and his face puffy from sobbing. Placing both hands on Charlie\'s chest, he pushed back against the other man like a cat resisting affection. Draco\'s head turned to the side to avoid Charlie at all costs.

Reluctantly, Charlie released the smaller man and let him scoot to his side of the bed. \"Good for you. So I could get you out of there, to some healers. You would\'ve died if it weren\'t for—\"

\"Oh no. No. NO!\" started Draco, going wild as he pushed himself out of the bed. He wrapped his arms around himself at his realization that he was standing there naked in front of Charlie. Even in the dark he felt exposed and it didn\'t occur to him that likely Charlie had tended to him like this and seen everything anyway. Weasley had saved his life? He owed Charlie now? No. This wasn\'t happening. Wasn\'t it bad enough to live? Now he was in debt to this man?

\"If it weren\'t for Harry.\"

\"What?\"

Charlie pointed at Draco\'s hip as he turned to light a candle so Draco could see his mark.

Trembling, Draco moved closer to the flame and peered down at the stag. It was awake, but moving almost sluggishly. It looked up at Draco, looking as drained as the Auror himself felt. On its forehead was now a lightning bolt shaped scar.

Slowly, the miserable aristocrat\'s finger moved down to caress his mark. His Harry. His Harry saved him. Even from beyond, Harry rescued him. Harry. His Harry. His lover whom he would never see again in this life. Draco let out a loud cry of sheer anguish at not being able to hold him, to coo to him, to thank him. Although what he\'d be thanking him for was dubious.

\"Why?\" was all he could breathlessly ask the mark. \"Why?\" His fingers stroked over the stag\'s nervous flanks. \"I need you. Please, Harry. Please,\" he begged as he sat back down on the bed, stroking all he had left of his lover. \"Why won\'t you let me come to you?\"

The stag stabbed its antlers at Draco\'s fingers and then nudged its snout towards Charlie, who was watching this interaction with an awed fascination.

\"I... I can\'t,\" whimpered Draco. The antlers again pricked at his fingers and the stag turned its face more meaningfully in the direction of Weasley. \"I can\'t.\"

\"Draco...\" but what could Charlie really say in the face of such rejection? It stung. He\'d spent the past few days caring for this man, cleaning him and watching over him. Not that Draco knew. How could he know? Really, even if he did know, Charlie was no Harry Potter. He hadn\'t saved the world; he wasn\'t going to save the world. He hadn\'t really even saved Draco\'s life, especially not from beyond death. He was just an ordinary man. Much like Draco himself.

For the briefest of moments, the clouds of Draco\'s rejection cleared and he felt that pain. The immense pains of being so close to someone like Harry, loving them so desperately only to lose them. He understood. Charlie understood why Draco couldn\'t let go. Tired angel. Saved again by the one person he couldn\'t have. \"Come here, Draco. Come to bed,\" said Charlie, sliding his hand over the spot where Draco had lain.

\"I\'m tired,\" he said to Charlie. His eyes were lost and vague as he looked at the redhead. His eyes were filled with longing and sadness. Worse yet, the grey was shot through with acquiescence.

Charlie pulled the smaller, almost catatonic man to him and slid the covers up over his nudity. He wrapped his arms around Draco and this time he didn\'t quail. He lay there limply, allowing Charlie to cling to him. Slowly, Draco Malfoy closed his eyes.

--

The next morning, Draco allowed Charlie to make love to him. It was perfunctory and brief. Draco watched the patterns on the ceiling flicker and change as the man grunted and moved into him. It was fine. It didn\'t matter.

At breakfast, Charlie informed him that Tonks and Shacklebolt had apprehended Pettigrew the day before. Draco tried to pretend he cared, but failed miserably.

That night, Charlie took Draco to a fine restaurant and plied him with wine and the best in Romany cooking. Draco ate and drank politely, and when Charlie asked him to move in with him, he agreed.

--

\"Draco?\" asked Charlie. It was early. Four a.m. and Draco was in bed, but clearly not sleeping. Not that it mattered. He\'d quit being an Auror to move to Romania. He had the money to do what he wanted. The problem had always been that Draco didn\'t want anything. So now he was unemployed. He took up writing; predictably, the book about his life with Harry was a best seller in spite of the fact that Draco never gave interviews.

\"Draco?\" Charlie asked again. He knew the man was awake because the bed wasn\'t that big and shook violently with every movement.

\"What?\" the weary man answered.

Charlie could hear the skin on skin contact of Draco sliding his fingers over the mark. Petting Harry, preening him, lavishing affection that Charlie wanted for himself on someone who wasn\'t even alive. It broke his heart every day, and yet he couldn\'t let go. Something about Draco\'s emptiness Charlie felt driven to fill. He loved Draco\'s desperate grace and he longed to be loved back by him, even if it would be only a fraction of what the blond felt for Harry. Charlie was determined that someday; someday Draco would return his feelings. \"Why didn\'t you go to Harry\'s funeral?\"

\"I didn\'t want to,\" answered Draco as he rolled over onto his back.

\"Too many people?\" asked Charlie as he rolled to his side to face his lover. Tenderly he pulled the blonde locks from Draco\'s face.

\"No. I\'ve never been to his grave,\" said Draco, who lay still to allow the affections upon him. He neither avoided nor encouraged Charlie\'s constant need to touch him.

\"Why not?\" asked Charlie as he leaned down and kissed Draco\'s shoulder.

\"Because that would mean that he\'s really gone,\" answered Draco flatly.

\"But he is,\" said Charlie as he frowned and wiggled closer to Draco. He draped his arm over the pale man\'s abdomen and Draco moved it up so that Charlie\'s arm wouldn\'t be so close to Harry\'s manifestation.

\"I know,\" Draco stated. He always sounded so tired now. As if every breath, each movement took every bit of energy he could muster. He was stuck. Waiting to die. His life was going through the motions.

\"I love you,\" whispered Charlie against Draco\'s neck as he cuddled in harder, pressing his length against his lover\'s thigh.

\"I know,\" said Draco as he closed his eyes and relaxed against the bed. As Charlie climbed atop him, Draco sighed inwardly and thought of green eyes. Untidy hair. Glinting glasses. Cocksure smile. Harry.

--

The Burrow was full of the usual fairy lights and other assorted Christmas decorations. The grandkids were running wild through people\'s legs and over chairs, shrieking and giggling as Molly fussed over the stove. Ron beamed as he stood next to Hermione holding their latest bundle of joy. Being the Minister of Magic clearly hadn\'t slowed the breeding down.

Moving away from her, Ron headed over to the eggnog and pulled Charlie aside with him. He looked at the fire where Draco was smirking at Missy, his 6 year old who was showing off her latest piece of art. \"Well, he\'s... smiling. What\'s it been 100, 200 years together and finally he cracks a smile?\" teased Ron.

\"Eight years, Ron. We\'ve been together for eight years. You\'ve seen him smile before,\" he said as he playfully punched Ron\'s shoulder.

\"I\'m still not used to the hair,\" admitted Ron as he looked at Charlie\'s now black hair and green eyes with concern. At least his brother had held firm on not wearing the glasses. Even so, the whole thing just seemed creepy to Ron.

\"Really? I like it. Sets me apart, makes me look more striking, don\'t you think?\" he asked as he ruffled his hand through it.

Same way Harry did, mused Ron. Draco must have taught him that too. \"Well, whatever makes you happy, Charlie. It\'s just good to see you two in love.\"

Charlie\'s face sobered and he paled and looked down into his eggnog. After a moment, he slugged it down and ladled himself another glass full.

\"I\'m sorry, did I say something wrong? You don\'t love him? Is he cheating on you?\" asked Ron.

Charlie couldn\'t help but snort. Cheating? You could call it that. His glamoured green eyes moved slowly to Draco, whose hand had moved down to that familiar spot on his hip, fingering it idly. He overheard Draco ask Missy, \"Can you draw me a stag? Those are really bold and brave!\"

\"No. He\'s not cheating on me. He just doesn\'t love me,\" said Charlie evenly.

\"Charlie... he\'ll get past this,\" said Ron none-too-convincingly.

\"He doesn\'t love me, and he never will,\" summed up Charlie. Then he gave Ron the cheeriest smile he could muster and punched him again in the arm. \"Come on, better get back,\" he said as he glided over to the couch. Charlie slid in next to Draco and slipped his arm around the blond. Draco leaned back against Charlie and rewarded him with a quick pat on his hand.

\"Love you,\" Charlie said.

\"Happy Christmas,\" answered Draco.


--
Notes:
Thanks to De and Toni for their constant encouragement! And special thanks to Tully for the low down on dragons and the awesome beta help!

Much of this story balanced on the premise of the pun of its title. \"Dragon Tamer\" ...Draco = Dragon... But aside from the pun was the idea of this thankless job. Dragons will never love you. At best they\'ll have a mild tolerance for the fact that you care for them and allow you certain liberties.