Scotland’s beaches weren’t necessarily the idyllic picture of soft sand and sparkling waves; most of the year the wind-tossed shores were prohibitive to frolicking, the temperatures too cold and waves too rough. But for those rare weeks in summer when the storms of spring were past and the autumn chill yet to come, the many sandy coves and rocky lagoons played host to hundreds looking for relief from the humid summer heat.In a sheltered, isolated cove rarely tread by muggles, a great black beast had lain curled on the hot sand, a wing partially sheltering the pale, freckled form tucked against his side feverishly sketching in a notebook. Charlie never gave up on his passion, not even when they were supposed to be enjoying a holiday. Ember watched, amused at Charlie’s passion and pleased with the sketch -- his head, resting on the sand, one claw under his chin with two of his protective inner eyelids protecting him from sand and salt.He patiently waited until Charlie finished and tucked the book back into his satchel, and then shifted to his human form, rolling over to pin the ginger dragonologist to the sand. “Enough work, wizard,” he rumbled, grinning at Charlie as he snatched his lips in a kiss. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” His hips fitted down between Charlie’s, tugging the muscular legs around his waist, gently grinding into him as he shifted to mouth over his freckled neck.