Summary:

Set in the There Be Dragons, Harry Universe, this snippet was born from a request to see a dominance play between Harry and Charlie as Sub/Beta dynamics. Consider this an early Valentine's day present, as I currently can't write fluff just yet.

Pairings:

Harry Potter x Charlie x Harry's Bonded.

Disclaimer:

I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with Harry in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.

Rating:

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16, just to be safe.

WARNINGS: Slash. Fluff. Romance. OC's. OOCness. Fits in the TBDH Universe. Very AU. Other warnings will be added as I see fit.

A/N: This is probably all y'all will get for Valentine's day, as I don't have any pure fluff in me right now. If I do, I'll post it later, but anyway, I just had the urge to do some CharliexHarry and then someone suggested a Harry/Charlie dominance play and I couldn't resist. This is clean enough for FF's guidelines, so enjoy, there won't be a ah, dirty version. Just use your imagination. I'm sure there's plenty to work with. ;) Enjoy! ~Scion

"If we can't take them out head-on, then we'll just have to do it from the shadows," Theo knocked over the queen on the chessboard and sat back in his armchair.

"When you say shadows," Charlie took a sip of his honey-ginger tea, his voice hoarse from fire-screaming through their last battle. "Do you have any specifics in mind?"

"Make them beg and crawl," Wikhn offered. He sat on the floor, beside Charlie, across from Theo, carefully polishing his cursed sword until the blackened blade gleamed in the low firelight. "Strip away everything that they hold dear. Make them pay for it."

George's eyebrows arched up in an excellent mirror of Fred's expression. "Revenge?" He asked, half-curious and half-horrified by the sincerity in the dark fae's voice. "That's a bit—it's a bit, isn't it?" He faltered, unsure whether to make a joke of it or not.

Fred snorted. "Spoken like a true-"

Harry leaned over the back of the settee and caught Fred's ear with one quick hand, giving it a slight twist. He felt his mischievous Pareya jump at the unexpected touch and shoot him an injured look for not getting to finish his punchline. "Did you have something in mind, Theo?" He handed over a steaming teacup to Fred, his original intention before he'd interrupted the bad joke.

The redhead happily took it, closing his eyes in bliss at the first sip. "If it's going to be shadows, cloak and dagger and all that, then I vote we do it." His eyes glittered, flashing with a hint of orange. "I've had enough of hearing reports where-"

George elbowed him lightly. He knew what Fred was hinting at. They hadn't been there for the last Voldemort confrontation, because they'd been helping Neville and the others, as well as training for their respective fire gifts to work together. His Black Fire actively repelled Fred's White Fire, canceling each other out in a fighting scenario—they'd been working together with Jun and Ebony to try and find a way around that.

Quinn's soft footsteps drew Harry's attention as the mute Healer entered the room, carrying a tray with the rest of the after dinner refreshments. Harry had taken two cups from it, handing off one to Charlie and the other to Fred. He came over to help Quinn pour and serve his remaining Bonded.

Have we decided on anything?

"Not yet," Theo said, sighing heavily. He looked to their Ace, who simply shook his head, sitting back from where they'd been playing Chess. "I have an idea, but it isn't the best of ideas and I've hardly had the time to think it through."

"There's not much to think through," Charlie half-growled, letting Quinn guide him to an empty spot near the fire and accepting the tingle of healing energy—though no more than a touch. He wouldn't have Quinn absorbing his pain on a day when they were likely gearing up to fight or hunt down another pack of Death Eaters. "We hunt them the same way they hunted us—and we make them pay."

Harry started faintly at that. His normally unflappable Beta was bristling with barely contained energy, his hair flickering as if it were about to burst into flame. True, the last confrontation between their groups, the classic good-versus-evil had ended with some serious injuries to two members of their party—one of them being Ginny—and the other being their Gheyo Queen, but this newfound ferocity didn't fit Charlie's easy-going nature.

"Making them pay won't be a problem," Theo said, darkly. His hands curled into fists. He could be quite inventive, if the situation called for it, and well, he was Slytherin on top of that, he knew the art of subtle torture. "And I'm sure I can find them if I-" he broke off, rising abruptly from his chair. "I need to—rest—for an hour at least. Excuse me." The last two words were directed to Harry and at a nod from his Submissive, Theo's golden eyes fluxed dark brown as he stalked out of the room, his mind made up. He would return in an hour with one of his iron-clad, nearly foolproof battleplans and they would regroup and learn it by heart, before putting it into play.

"We'd best get some practice in, Gred." Fred swallowed down the last of his tea, patting his stomach. "An hour's not much."

George grunted, nudging Wikhn lightly with his knee, waiting until the dark fae shifted to the side. Wikhn had been bracing against his leg, offering silent support and soaking up the protective warmth that George seemed to radiate. "Offense or defense?" He asked, rising and beginning to clear away the tea tray. Pareyas were specifically suited to defensive spells, their magical make-up was practically designed for it, but their Ace had insisted that every single member of their Circle know at least five battle spells. Those five were now part of the twin's daily training routines.

Make sure you practice with your shields up, Quinn warned, taking the tray from George's hands. He didn't practice with them, but he would be busy making and storing healing spells in special amulets for use on the battlefield in the hour allotted to them.

"We always do, Quinny-boy." Fred slung an arm around the blond's shoulders and gave a gentle, half-squeeze. "You'll be making amulets?" Quinn's healing gift made it difficult for him to engage in a battle scenario, but it also meant that his magic was free to keep his Bonded functioning at their absolute best.

And dinner, Quinn's lips twitched. A one-pot dinner.

"S'long as it's edible." Fred bent to nuzzle Quinn's cheek in thanks and then sauntered off for the rear practice rooms. George smiled and with a kiss to Harry's cheek and a nod to their Ace, he was off. Quinn followed at a more sedate pace, his teal eyes already dreamy at the fact that his brilliant mind had begun to think strategy and craft for the protective amulets he would make.

Wikhn watched them leave and at a pointed look from his Ace, moved to his feet without complaint and followed him to the second set of practice rooms. The rest of Gheyos were no doubt gathering there and a grueling practice session was likely to take place before Theo's mental brilliance was finished.

With the room newly cleared, Harry's attention shifted to Charlie who was still sipping on his tea, looking pensively into the fire. From the tense set of his shoulders and the dark look in his lovely blue eyes, Harry knew he was brooding and likely blaming himself for the unexpected ambush.

Sighing, Harry moved over to stand beside the armchair. He eased the warm teacup out from Charlie's slack fingers and set it on the mantel with a flicker of magic. "Charlie?" He carefully perched on the arm of the chair, knowing that he couldn't just slide into his Beta's lap just yet.

Dull blue eyes flickered to him and then back to the fire, where the flames flared briefly in response to whatever emotion he'd just tamped down. "Yes?"

"You need to let it go," Harry said. "It wasn't your fault, there wasn't anything you could've done about it."

"I should have—you don't know that." Charlie scowled. "I should've known that something would've have happened. It was too easy, too simple and I should have seen it coming."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Harry said, firmly. "It wasn't your fault. You did the best that you could and now you need to focus on moving forward."

Charlie half-growled in his throat. "What I need is to burn their arrogant-"

"Charlie!" Harry twisted around to give him a good look. He knew all-too well just where this sort of attitude could lead. It led to things like revenge and loss. Things like rushing after Bellatrix to scream out a curse that never should have passed through his lips. "Charlie," he said again, softer, this time. "Don't go there. Don't. Not now."

"They deserve it!" Charlie nearly hissed. He swore in the fire tongue, a colorful string of words that had Harry wincing in partial understanding. "They deserve it. When I see them again, they'll wish they'd never been born and-"

Oh no. That was it. Harry's hand flashed out, quicker than lightning, deft fingers slipping off the leather tie 'round Charlie's ponytail and fisting in the thick, crimson hair. "Don't you dare." Harry said, quietly, deadly and with all the emotion he could keep behind it. He almost wished Theo was here, because Theo had a way of making the others mind him without so much as a look. But then again, so did Harry. They each had their points.

Charlie's agitated twitching ceased as he stilled, blue eyes flickering to Harry's solemn face in some semblance of confusion. He'd been caught up in the memory and for a moment, felt as if he'd been thrown for a loop at the look of blatant disapproval on Harry's lovely face. "Harr-?"

Harry tightened his grip on those red tresses and pulled, noting the instinctive wince on Charlie's face. "You will not go after them. Not for revenge. Not for convenience. Not for anything. Do you hear me?"

Several emotions flitted over Charlie's face, one after the other and the inner battle was quite obviously played out on his handsome, tanned face. There was a moment of silence between them, Harry refusing to ease his grip and Charlie drawing a blank for a way to work around that carefully worded order. "I'm not-" he started to say.

Harry gave a slight jerk at that, ignoring the gasp and faint whine that left his Beta's lips. That was not the answer he wanted to hear. "Say it, Charlie." He half-growled. "Say you won't go chasing after them for revenge."

Refusal was on the tip of his tongue, Charlie's deep blue eyes glittering with defiance as he stubbornly clamped his lips shut. There had to be a way around and—his head was uncomfortably forced backwards by Harry's firm hand. He froze when he felt the rasp of bared claws against his neck.

Harry was very, very serious.

"Say it," Harry purred, his emerald eyes having fluxed entirely black. He tapped Charlie's quivering throat with one wicked claw. "You won't go chasing after them, will you?"

Charlie trembled, faintly, then his eyes slid shut in defeat. He gave a tiny shake of his head, feeling Harry's claws scraping lightly over his heated skin.

"Good boy," Harry crooned. "Repeat after me."

Charlie swallowed.

"I won't…"

"I won't," Charlie rasped.

"Go chasing for revenge or anything else, on our next raid."

"…chase after them for revenge on our next raid."

Harry curled his fingers, the clawed tips digging lightly into Charlie's soft neck, not quite drawing blood, but not easing up either. He bent down to whisper in Charlie's ear, tightening the grip even more on those sleek red strands. "That's not what I said, Charlie."

With a near screech of frustration, Charlie blurted out another string of words that were half-garbled in English and the fire tongue, angry blue eyes glaring at Harry as he wrenched his head free from Harry's grasp. The sudden movement jarred Harry's careful grip, resulting in thin, bloody lines scored down his throat and clavicle. He bristled, instinct warring with common sense, understanding what Harry had wanted from him, while inwardly hating the method.

Harry didn't even fight when Charlie tumbled him off the arm of the chair, into his lap and held him tight in an iron grip. A streak of rebellion glistened in those emerald eyes, but Harry didn't so much as twitch when Charlie's upper lip curled, showing a hint of glistening fang.

Instead, the brunet simply locked his arms around Charlie's neck—the redhead hadn't been quick enough to pin them—and pulled downward, using gravity to his advantage. He'd almost heard the answer he'd wanted, but this could not be left halfway. He needed to hear Charlie say it properly, because only once he had, would he know that Charlie would not go back on his word. That, he could trust. "Promise me, Charlie!" The words were half-angry, half-frustrated, but all Harry. He would not let up until he heard the answer he wanted.

With a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, Charlie finally gave a short, tense nod. "I won't go after them...at all." The words were forced past his lips, as if it cost him his very life to speak them.

Knowing what he did of dragels now, Harry understood that it very well was almost impossible. Almost. But he'd gotten the answer he wanted and so he gave Charlie the appropriate response for his little dance of dominance. In Charlie's present state, he would agree—because a Beta was first and foremost, to see to their Submissive's happiness—but in the end, it was just Charlie and he was just Harry.

And being just Harry, he knew what his Charlie needed. He watched with a hint of morbid fascination as Charlie's rich blue eyes fluxed black, then lightened, shifting into the trademark orange hue that meant his flames were simmering just beneath the surface.

Resigning himself to the fact that he'd be on his back for at least the next half-hour—or at least the rest of the time it took Theo to dream up their next plan of action—not that it was any sacrifice at all, Harry simply smirked and let the claws come out of his other hand. Now that the seriousness was over, he was free to even the playfield for fixing Charlie's mood. He dug the blunted tips into Charlie's muscled shoulders and gave a playful growl.

Charlie didn't need any further encouragement. His arms locked around Harry's torso, one hand finding its way up to return the favor of tight-fisted hand in short, silky hair, tugging just hard enough for the rasping growl of approval and gentle enough not to cause unnecessary pain, before he descended on that pouting mouth, savaging it with lips, teeth and tongue, a kiss of complete utter dominance.

Harry gave a delighted rumble at that, stretching his jaw a bit wider to accept the warm tongue that came with it. He squirmed in Charlie's expert grasp, just because he could and because it made the redhead hold him even tighter and closer and he wanted—needed—that so much more than he could ever put into words.

When Charlie broke away so they could both take a breath, his eyes had gone completely orange-gold and the wicked smirk on his face promised the most wickedly enjoyable sorts of retribution for the necessary exchange between them just moments before. Tugging sharply on Harry's hair, he bared that pale neck for his own fangs and ravished the sensitive column, nipping in a few places to draw blood and laving it with his tongue to keep it from turning messy.

It took a moment for Harry to catch his breath, arousal spiraling through him like wildfire and the same at least, for Charlie, a trapped hardness in his trousers making itself known against Harry's hip. He gave another careful wiggle, gasping when Charlie bit a little harder, with a definite, instinctive growl—a hint for him to settle down.

Harry scrunched up his face. He did not want this to happen in the armchair. It was much too uncomfortable. He wriggled again, gasping at the pleasurable fire licking along his neck, courtesy of Charlie's careful ministrations. "Floor, Charlie," he gasped out, feeling as if Charlie's fire had enveloped him completely. "Take—floor-" and his head lolled back, no longer pulling against Charlie's hand, a low groan slipping past his lips.

A pleased look painted itself across Charlie's face and he released his hold on Harry's hair, slackening the grip around the smaller body with some reluctance. "Floor," he said, after a moment.

Harry barely had a second to catch his breath before he was flat on his back on the floor before the hearth, the fire crackling merrily to his right, as Charlie loomed over him, some of the shadow leaving his face, his attention now fixed solely on Harry.

It was good, but not quite what he wanted yet, so Harry reached up and ripped that nice shirt off of that kissable tanned skin and whined unashamedly when Charlie caught him gently by the wrists and pinned them down by his head.

"You first," Charlie rasped. He bent to ravish that willing mouth once more, then pulled back, smoldering eyes taking a quick assessment of Harry's aroused and interested figure. He leaned down and with a bump of his chin, knocked Harry's head to the left and bit directly over his claim mark.

Harry's entire body went boneless and he chirred softly, inquisitively—an instinctive need to know if he was pleasing his dominant.

Charlie held his fangs in the bite a bit longer to make his point—his dragel hadn't liked Harry's forceful technique very much, but the wizard side of him had absolutely adored it and needed it. Then he released his grip on Harry's hands and pulled away from the tantalizing neck, returning his attentions to Harry's throat, while swiftly undressing him with another hand.

Harry's hands patted softly along Charlie's side and stomach, a wordless plea for his submission to be acknowledged. Charlie rumbled contentedly above him and that was all Harry needed to start purring in delight as fiery hands began to burn away his clothes, with flames that would never, ever hurt him, but always, forever delight him.

The mischief slowly bled back into Charlie's orange eyes as they tempered and faded back to the palest shade of almost orange-blue. It was easy to fit into each other, they'd done it so often anyway and when he finally found his release—Harry's slender legs wrapped around his waist—he didn't swallow the primal roar that rattled through the room.

A burst of warmth blossomed in his chest as he looked down at Harry, proud of him, proud of what they had together and glad they were Bonded as they were. Only Harry would have known how to bring him out of that terrible funk.

Only Harry.

His Harry.

The sated look on Harry's face was eclipsed only by the sudden expression of mischief incarnate as he gave another one of his patented wriggles and Charlie groaned.

And here's that "other" oneshot I was working on. Happy Valentine's Day a bit early. I can't write fluff just yet. So happy V-day and pink candy hearts and whatever. :P May it be just as delightful and smexy as these two. Thanks for reading!