Charlie was proud of himself for managing to only falter for a moment when he saw who was in his first class at Hogwarts. It took him mere seconds to realise the truth that had entirely evaded him two nights earlier in the dim Muggle club. He'd thought the boy had looked familiar, but so deep into Muggle London, it hadn't occurred to him that he'd run into another wizard.
Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, did not recover so quickly. He stared at Charlie with a look of shock, and possibly horror, for far longer than Charlie thought was really necessary. To be fair, Charlie had missed the Welcome Feast while helping tend to a wounded thestral, so Draco wouldn't have had time to prepare himself for his new professor. It was only when a large leaf floated down from one of the trees and landed on top of his head that Draco began to control his reaction. Not for the first time, Charlie was thankful that none of his returning siblings were taking Care of Magical Creatures. If any of them had been in the class just then, he knew they would have noticed something was up.
"Hello, class!" Charlie shouted out to the half-dozen merrily chatting seventh-year students gathered at the edge of the forest. "I'm Professor Weasley, but you can call me Charlie." He allowed himself a quick glance at Draco, taking in the way his lips twisted as Charlie introduced himself, before turning his full attention on the day's lesson plan.
To his surprise, Draco stayed behind after the lesson had finished. Charlie tried to ignore the flicker of heat in his belly as he arranged his expression into something politely inquiring. "Mr Malfoy, how can I help you?"
"Mr Malfoy? Seriously?" Draco hissed. "I would think having your prick down my throat would have earned me first name status."
Charlie shivered as memories from that night overtook him: slim hips grinding against his own, the darkened alcove, a gorgeous blond dropping to his knees, and the way Charlie's come had looked dripping down sharp cheekbones.
"You didn't seem so concerned about me calling you by your first name at the club. In fact, I don't believe we bothered with names at all."
Draco's lips pursed. "Yes, I'm starting to regret that."
"Are you?" Charlie didn't mean for his voice to go low and rough, truly he didn't, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it when he saw Draco's resulting shiver.
Draco took a deep breath, his expressions hardening. "This year is too important to me, and we can't...that can't happen again. I need to know if this is going to be a problem."
"Of course not. There's no reason for our past...liaison to play any part here. It was just a one-off, nothing to get worked up about." It was true, but Charlie found himself surprisingly disappointed by it. Especially when a breeze ruffled Draco's hair and filled Charlie's nostrils with a familiar lemon scent that flashed Charlie back to a memory of their sweaty, dancing bodies. He hadn't thought beyond relieving a little stress before starting his new job when he'd gone to that club, but now that he was confronted with the pretty boy he'd found release with, Charlie couldn't say he wasn't desirous of a repeat performance.
Draco was right, though. It couldn't happen again. This was his first day as a professor; he wasn't eager to fuck things up so soon, no matter how pretty the face.
Something heated flickered over Draco's face, followed by an imperfect blankness. "Thank you for your understanding, Professor. I look forward to working with you."
Charlie suppressed a shudder.
"I'll see you in class...Draco."