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Charlie gripped his wand tightly as he waited for the signal to begin the raid. He was nervous about what they’d find inside, but he knew this was important. No one should be forcing people into illegal fighting rings, whether they were creatures or not.
The signal went up and Charlie blasted the door open. He and the rest of his team filed in, spells flying. Everything was a mess of people and spells and shouting, almost too overwhelming for him to process. The only real spot of quiet was a fenced in ring on the far side of the room. For a moment, he thought he saw something on fire in there, but when he blinked it was gone, leaving only two figures huddled on opposite sides of the ring.
Everyone in on the raid had been given their own roles based on their specializations. Charlie was one of two with experience handling dangerous magical creatures, so his job was to find the ones who were being made to fight and do what needed to be done with them. He knew many of them would be injured, and all would be frightened, so there was really no telling exactly what he would be facing.
He decided to start with the two still in the ring, knowing his counterpart was with the group going in through the rear of the building. It took longer than he would have liked to find a door in the ceiling high chainlink fence, and even longer to figure out the best spell to get it open. In the end, he just blasted through, hoping the shrapnel wouldn’t hit the two inside.
As the dust cleared, he stepped into the ring. It was easier to see the two fighters now that he was inside, both of them pushed as far away from him as they could be in the space. The one on the left was obviously a werewolf, stuck in mid transformation and bleeding from some rather vicious looking claw marks on his side. His fur seemed singed in some places, and Charlie wondered for a moment if there really had been a fire in here before.
The other one was harder to identify, just a pale blond waif curled into a ball. The only odd thing about him was that he was naked. Nothing pointed to him being a creature, though there was a pile of ash a foot away from him that could have been clothing at one time. He didn’t seem to have any burns, though there were shallow claw marks high on one arm.
Distracted by the blond, Charlie almost didn’t see the werewolf moving. He turned just in time to get his wand up, freezing the werewolf in place and wincing in sympathy when he fell to the ground with a dull thud. There wasn’t much that could be done for the werewolf yet, no one in the raid had the skills to do anything for him in this state. He would need to be taken to St. Mungo’s for any real help.
There was no telling how long the freezing spell would work on a werewolf, so Charlie quickly bound him before turning his attention back to the blond. He didn’t seem to have moved, despite the werewolf’s attack and the noise still going on in the rest of the building. Charlie hoped he wasn’t more injured than was immediately obvious, or about to attack himself.
"Hey, it’s going to be ok," Charlie said soothingly, take a few tentative steps toward the blond, coming to a stop just a foot away. "You’re not a captive anymore, you don’t have to fight."
Slowly, the blond lifted his head, arms still wrapped protectively around his body. His grey eyes were red-rimmed and seemed to glow with some inner light before he blinked and they returned to normal. He was thin and dirty, but there was no way Charlie wouldn’t have recognized him.
It was Draco Malfoy.
For a moment, Charlie didn’t know what to do or say. No matter what he’d been expecting out of this raid, and none of it had been good, he hadn’t expected to see someone like Draco there. Especially not as one of the creature fighters.
"Are you hurt?" Charlie asked after a long moment, swallowing back any of the far more inappropriate questions that he wanted to ask. "Other than the arm I mean?"
Draco shook his head, sharp eyes betraying nothing, and Charlie let out a small sigh of relief. That made things easier at least, for both of them. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, muttering a quick spell to expand it into a blanket, which he settled around Draco’s shoulders. That would have to do for now.
Before Charlie could say anything else, he heard footsteps behind him. It made him realize that most of the rest of the noise had mostly died down while he was distracted. He turned to see Barent, the wizard who had been in charge of organizing the raid. He had a handful of wands, probably the ones confiscated when the creatures were captured.
"Everything alright?" Barent asked, glancing at the bound werewolf who had just begun growling in displeasure.
"Yeah, I think we’re good," Charlie said, smiling reassuringly. "The werewolf is going to need St. Mungo’s. It looks like he’s stuck. Draco should be fine, just needs a new set of clothes and a safe place to go."
Barent nodded. He turned to look at Draco, who had stood, pale hands tightly gripping the blanket. "Do you have someone to go to, someone you trust?"
There was a moment of hesitation before Draco shook his head, eyes cutting away as he flushed a little. "There’s no one," he said, voice soft and angry.
Charlie felt for Draco, knowing this had to feel like just one more shame heaped on the rest of it. Most British wizards, Charlie included, knew that all the Malfoy monies and properties had been seized when Lucius and Narcissa were jailed after the war, Draco himself only barely avoiding imprisonment. Barent, a French wizard who spent most of his time breaking up creature fighting rings in places like this rural Russian spot, wouldn’t have known that.
"He can stay with me," Charlie said, the words surprising himself almost as much as Barent or Draco. But he wasn’t going to take them back, Draco deserved another chance. "I’m headed back to Romania after this, he can stay with me until he can get his bearings. He’ll be safe there."
***
"I know you only agreed to take me because you don’t know what I am," Draco said as they headed for the Portkey that would get them to Romania.
Charlie shook his head, amused despite himself. He should have known Draco wouldn’t continue the quiet and demure act. It was actually kind of reassuring in a way. It proved they hadn’t broken him.
"I didn’t agree, I volunteered," he replied evenly. "Besides, it doesn’t matter to me what you are, you still deserve a safe place to recuperate."
Draco rolled his eyes, but didn’t reply. Charlie wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t believe that, or if it was because he did. In the end, that didn’t matter either. Charlie would still do anything he could to help Draco.
***
Over the next few weeks, Charlie did his best to make Draco comfortable. It was hard at first because Draco was unwilling to talk much, even to say if there was anything he needed or wanted. Charlie thought there was still a lot of distrust, probably warranted after what he’d been through at the fighting ring, so he tried to be understanding and accommodating.
At first, it didn’t seem to do much good. Charlie would go work with the dragons during the day and Draco would stay in his cabin near the edge of the preserve. In the evenings, Charlie would cook them dinner. It was nice to have someone to eat with other than just occasionally his friends from the preserve, even if it was a mostly quiet affair. Charlie would make some conversation, but Draco, for the most part, didn’t participate.
Charlie had mostly expected that kind of reaction, but it started to sting a bit that Draco was so unwilling to trust him. He’d always considered himself a friendly guy, if a bit shy in large groups. He didn’t know Draco well, more by reputation than anything, so it was hard going to find something that could connect them, but he liked Draco and he wanted Draco to like him back. He just had to hope that continuing to talk and be himself would be enough.
And somehow, it seemed to be working. So slowly Charlie almost didn’t notice it, Draco began warming up to him. He started taking part in conversations, just adding little things here or there about what his life had been like after the war. One day, he even had dinner waiting when Charlie got back.
The food was almost inedible, but that was the day Charlie knew things had changed. That maybe Draco was becoming as fond of him as he’d become of Draco.
One evening, the two of them sat in the living room as they usually did after dinner. Draco was reading a book on magical genealogy that Charlie had picked up for him and Charlie was working on a sketch of the Armenian dragon that had been brought to the reserve the day before. It was something he’d done for nearly every dragon since he started working there, and he loved doing it.
He was so deep into his drawing that it took him a while to realize that he was being watched. There was only one other person in the cabin, so he was unsurprised to look up and see Draco staring at him with intense grey eyes.
"You really do see the best in everyone, don’t you? Even those beasts," Draco said, waving a hand at the drawing Charlie was working on.
"Yes, of course." Charlie furrowed his brows, wondering where the conversation was headed.
"You even saw the best in me," Draco said, more to himself than anything. He sighed, suddenly looking much younger and more vulnerable than Charlie knew him to be. "When I was stuck in that hellhole. You… helped me."
Charlie had a feeling that if he said anything, it would break whatever spell had come over Draco and made him so unexpectedly talkative and open. And whatever it was, Charlie knew it had to be important. Instead, he stood from the table, moving slowly so as not to startle the younger man, and sat near him on the couch.
Draco looked at him for several long moments before continuing, eyes guarded. "When you found me, you didn’t know what I was," he said. "No one does except of course my family. I suppose you’ve proven yourself enough to know. We- I am an empusa."
"An empusa," Charlie breathed, eyes wide.
Suddenly things were coming together, the fire he thought he’d seen and the ashes of his clothes and the way Draco preferred his steak very rare. Draco was a fire demon, a creature that could light itself on fire and had been hunted in the past for drinking blood. Charlie felt a little like he should have known, but he was glad Draco was finally trusting him enough to tell him. It made something warm and happy bloom in his chest.
"Thank you," he said a moment later, "for telling me. I know that must have been hard."
Draco sniffed, looking a little more his normal aloof self. "Yes, well," he started, but seemed to lose what he wanted to say. "I thought you should know. In case you’re afraid of me. In case you’re not comfortable having me here."
"What?" Charlie exclaimed, giving an apologetic smile when it made Draco jump a little. "That would never happen," he continued fiercely, desperate for Draco to understand. "Please don’t ever think that. I want you here."
Charlie surprised himself with the passion behind his words, but when he thought about it, they were completely true. There was nowhere else he’d want Draco to be than here with him. Draco didn’t seem to know what to say, staring at Charlie with wide, unsure eyes, so Charlie decided to do the only thing he knew to prove to Draco that he really meant it.
He kissed him.
For a moment, Draco seemed too startled to respond, and Charlie’s heart beat in overtime as he began to worry that he’d totally screwed things over between them. That was the last thing he wanted to do now that he’d realized how much he wanted Draco to stay. He started to pull back to apologize when hands came up to hold his face, lips pressing hungrily against his.
Charlie lost himself in the kiss, hands running up and down Draco’s sides, revelling in the warmth of the younger man. It was like kissing a fire, and Charlie never wanted to stop. He’d never thought he’d want someone this much, though it was hard to imagine that anyone else could compare. There really was no one else like Draco.
Eventually they pulled apart, breathing hard, hands still touching everywhere they could. Charlie smiled at Draco’s glazed look, heat gathering in his gut at the thought that he was the one who’d put it there.
"You ok?" Charlie asked, voice quiet so he wouldn’t break the comfortable, peaceful calm that had fallen between them.
"Yes," Draco said. He smiled, brighter than Charlie had ever seen him smile before. "I think I am."