This is for the Camp Potter II Challenge. Fireworks show (romance) - Week one Charlie/Draco

I hope I wrote this good enough for all you shippers out there. I'm quite nervous about it actually, but must admit that I enjoyed writing it.

It also appears that when in doubt of a story name, I will revert to the titles of Good Charlotte songs.

I own nothing, not even the title.

Romania.

It was the furthest I could think to go to get away from my father - from what had happened. Harry Potter had understood that I regretted everything, and had turned down my offer to help get some order back in Britain. We both knew that my heart wasn't truly in the offer, because I couldn't be there anymore, and his refusal had given me option to leave.

There was too much hatred towards my family. I wanted a new start, or at least some time away to find myself again.

Professor McGonagall had arranged it for me. Something different, somewhere I could go to take my mind off everything, and gain qualifications and look towards a future. Somewhere where I wasn't Draco Malfoy, looking to fix my families errors, or pay for my families mistakes, depending on who was looking at the situation.

They would start to train me as a Healer here. There was a need for a second one, but a lack of funds for someone with experience. There was, however, living quarters, and food included in the job, and a wage on top. I accepted immediately. What else could I do? What other opportunity could come along? This was the best I could have hoped for.

For the first couple of days, it was intense training in short bursts. I was taught spell after spell. Which ones sterilised the equipment, which ones to use to change the beds, and the curtain hangings, and how often each job was to be done. I was shown how to bandage, how to treat burns, and how to mend bones. The reason for the short bursts, was because the other Healer struggled to find the time in between his own duties. He explained that he'd teach me what he could during the less busy times, but I'd have to watch him and learn on the job.

When he wasn't busy, he focused mainly on burns. How to treat burns, the potions that were required, for the severity of the burns. The pain potions, the diagnostic spells. He told me these were the most common injuries here, and to deal with patients that required attention for burns, he would focus on anything more severe.

I was sent to tend to my first patient, a red-haired man with very few burns.

I worked slow, uncertain of what I was doing, and the man flashed me a grin.

"So, you're new here," he said, not a question, just an observation. I merely nodded, not wanting to discuss my circumstances at the present. Maybe once I had been here longer, I could make acquaintances.

"It's the blue potion," he informed me, as I picked up both the potions, trying to remember what I had been told about each of them. He had seem me looking between the both and the wound on his arm, and offered me his help. I did a double take as I saw something explore around the edge of the burn, before disappearing under his sleeve again.

"The green one would be needed if it was my face," he told me, as I placed it back down.

"Thank you," I told him. It was strange. Me, a Malfoy, thanking someone politely for their help, but this man was patient, knowing that I was uncertain, and offered me help, and I would show manners. I would not show my father's arrogance. I planned to leave that back in England with my father.

I gently applied the potion to his arm, and grabbed some bandages. I hesitated on the spell to hold the bandage in place, and the red-head flashed me another grin, and reminded me of the name of the spell that was required.

Again I thanked him.

When I finally finished, he stood up to leave. "I'll be back tomorrow to have this checked, and changed," he told me, rather than me telling him. I was quite happy with his help. If all my patients were like this, I'd learn quickly and would have the very basics known in just a few short days.

"Goodbye, Draco."

My eyes darted to his, in confusion. I hadn't given him my name, and the only person I had met with was the Healer, who hadn't had a moment to tell anyone about my arrival. No-one except my boss, who had promised not to give my name to anyone, and send them to me if they asked it.

"Goodbye," I repeated, and he could see my confusion.

He walked back to me, offering me his hand to shake, which I did.

"Charlie Weasley."

The look of horror replaced the confusion, and he laughed.

"You're not the only one here to escape," he told me. "Life back there was too dull, and now the wars over, I'm back to live my life. It won't be what you've been used to all these years, but I guess you know that. In the Reserve, we're all equal, we have one boss for all of us. We're all the same here. I'd like to see you fit in."

I nodded my head. "I hope to fit in, too," I said, softly, before he left.

...oOo...

For the next couple of days, he returned to have the bandages changed. Once the burn was healed, and the skin was a bit tainted still, I reached for the salve, which once applied, made his arm look as good as new.

The moment his skin was flawless, well as flawless as it could be, covered in all the freckles, the dragon slowly curled its way down his arm, and I found my eyes watching it for a moment, before meeting his amused, blue eyes.

"You don't come out at dinner time? You should, you need to meet everyone," he advised.

"I will, once I settle," I replied. I didn't want to admit that I felt safe in the Medical Building, where people came in hoping to get fixed, and sent out again, rather than sitting around a table where I could be judged. But Charlie, he seemed to see right through me, as when I collected my dinner, and retreated to my rooms, he was right behind me, asking entrance, asking to join me, and offering me company.

The conversation turned from the war, to our personal lives, and I admitted that my reason for coming out was partially to escape my family name. I knew it would follow me one day, but I wanted to prove to myself that I'm not my father's son. I was disgraced, and people were looking for me to publically redeem myself, or for me to fall, because of my fathers actions. I opted for neither, and took this chance.

"I hear rumours," Charlie said, after I had shared. "Rumours that your father is looking for a pure-blood match, one of a decent social standing that would accept a marriage proposal for you."

I found myself in shock, I had been consulted on the matter, but my father had ignored my outburst, and clearly didn't even realise I was gone, if he was making these arrangements. I knew that whatever he planned, would hurt our name when I publically dismissed any name of any Witch that was put forward as my potential bride. I shared this with Charlie, and he chuckled.

"So, you bat for the other team?" He asked me, and I frowned at him, confused.

"I'm sure I don't know what that means," I informed him.

"You're not into women," Charlie clarified. The look of uncertainty that I knew my face held, answered his question.

"Don't worry, who am I to judge?" He asked, his hand stroking over mine, before he took his plate and left.

He returned each night to join me for dinner, and I healed another burn mark, and one evening, when I was told to leave, as it wasn't busy, I ventured towards where the dragons were kept.

I wasn't certain if it was curiosity over the large, fascinating creatures, or the red hair that drew me over there, maybe both factors were equal in their appeal, but I stood as close as I dared, watching Charlie tending to a large dragon.

It wasn't long until Charlie found his way to me. "This one is new, it's a Hebridean Black," he informed me, and I turned my eyes from the brilliant purple eyes that the large beast possessed, and onto the brilliant blue that were trained on me.

"Were you here to see me or the dragons?" he asked, curiously.

I shrugged. "A little of both," I admitted. "I wanted to see the dragons, and hoped you would show me them. Isn't it best I have more knowledge about this place, the layout, the dragons and such, since I plan to stay?"

Charlie gave me that wide smile of his, as he threw an arm over my shoulder and led me towards the dragons.

A couple of hours later, I found Charlie pouring potions on my arm, before wrapping the bandages on it. "Next time, I'm sure you'll remember this and listen to me," he said, humour in his voice.

I snorted, and my eyes lingered on the dragon that made an appearance on his arm, before disappearing again.

"It was tattooed on my back, so it'll move around my body, but will always return there," Charlie told me. "Would you like to see it properly?"

I nodded, feeling the words stick in my throat, as his top came up over his head. I had to remind myself that I was alone with Charlie, in his room.

The dragon was moving across his back, as though it was exploring, and it fascinated me, bringing attention to all his muscles, and I reached out to touch the dragon, suddenly realising that I had just stroked Charlie's back. He turned around with a soft smile, not his usual wide grin.

Before I knew it, lips were pushed against mine, and to my surprise, I found myself unwilling to push him away, unable to resist. Instead my hands found both his hair and the back of his neck, as I pulled him closer. For the first time in a long time, I felt happy.

And the source of my happiness was a Weasley.

Thank you all for reading this. I'd love to hear what you think about it, so please leave a review :)