Fic Challenge #183 // Broom
Title: Guilt, A Gift That Keeps On Giving
Summary: Guilt has a way of sticking with you. Few people knew this better than Neville Longbottom, who on some level had always blamed himself for the loss of his parents. Precious little helped alleviate the ache in chest, but the one thing that worked every time? Bringing smiles to the faces of the two people Neville loved most.
Characters/Pairings: Neville Longbottom; Draco Malfoy; Harry Potter // Neville/Harry/Draco
Genre: gen
Beta: none
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 // super mild & brief cursing; non-explicit mention in passing of a HP characer being suicidal (not a character in the fic); non-explicit reference to sex; m/m/m relationship
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1,083
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: n/a
Note: I've had Neville/Harry/Draco plot bunnies bombarding my brain for months, so I'm finally caving and writing some of them. Assuming I actually keep writing these (I already have a few more in the works), I'm going to call this "universe" the "Third Wheel Universe" (it makes sense based on other installments, not so much this one).
Neville never had been very skilled at saying 'no' to the people he cared about. It was a personality flaw that often came back to bite him in the ass. Many people incorrectly attributed Neville's "yes man" attitude to a doormat personality. In reality, it wasn't a lack of self-worth that led the shy man to be such a people-pleaser. When it came to those he cared about, Neville literally, genuinely, and wholeheartedly, lived to create joy in their lives. Nothing could bring more peace to Neville's world weary soul. He had spent a lot of time as a child, watching the husks of what remained of his parents, suffering in traumatized silence. The guilt of observing their pain, yet being unable to do anything to alleviate it, had slowly eaten away at the boy's childhood naivety. He had ended up with his grandmother, a maternal force to be reckoned with certainly, but knowing full-well that she felt the loss of her children daily. Few people knew it, but Neville was actually quite astutely skilled at reading others. He always had been, even from a very young age. If it hadn't been for her grandson, Neville's grandmother would have given up. Everything. She had never admitted it to him, but she hadn't needed to. He could see the ever-present well of pain behind her eyes. Neville had eventually found the draft of her suicide note, years after graduating Hogwarts, and it had been dated for the night right before she had been given custody of him. All he had ever wanted was to help his grandmother heal but unfortunately, all he seemed able to do for her was remind her of all that she had lost. Nothing Neville could do could change the fact that whenever he was with her, he was causing his sole parental figure sadness. That sort of guilt eats away at a person, and Neville was no exception.
There were some wounds that could never be healed. Some hurts that just went too deep and stung too much. Neville had been raised with the ache of disillusionment in his chest and he had grown past it. He had accepted that there would always be people in the world that, no matter what help anyone tried to offer, they would never feel whole again. Living with that knowledge made Neville's heart hurt and the world around him to grow a bit dim sometimes. When offered the opportunity to bring someone happiness, no matter how insubstantial or fleeting, Neville would always do everything in his power to make it happen. Always.
Harry and Draco both knew this about Neville. It was part of why they both had ended up so hopelessly besotted with the unassuming herbologist. It was also why they had managed to easily persuade Neville to partake in a day of flying lessons. Despite the fact that there was little else Neville hated so much in this world as being airborne. He had never quite got the knack of riding a broom. He could fly, if he needed to, but he avoided it at all costs and when he DID have to? Neville normally came home, tail between his legs, needing at least one minor injury healed. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had been dragged out of bed before first light. Apparently Harry had pulled some strings with Ginny, and they had been granted permission to use the Harpies' practice pitch before the team came in for drills later that afternoon.
"Draco," Neville whined hardheartedly, clasping the Nimbus between his legs with sweaty palms. "I thought you said I needed to stop hurting myself flying, after the last time I came home with that fractured wrist."
Draco smirked, cocking his hip and raising an elegantly arched eyebrow. "You do need to stop hurting yourself when you fly, my accident-prone little gardener. That's why you need to learn how to fly properly once and for all. From us. It's about time somebody showed you. You are far too graceful in bed to be so hopeless riding a broom, Neville. Really, it's embarrassing."
Harry, who had been lazily stretching the sleep out of his body, let loose some explosive chortling. Draco's smirk deepened and his molten eyes sparkled with mirth. Neville knew Draco was only teasing, but he couldn't help the blush that bloomed across his cheeks and the tops of his ears. The Malfoy heir always did know just what to say to ruffle Neville's feathers. After collecting himself, Harry did seem to take pity on the ever-modest herbologist. He sauntered over to the tense man, wrapping a firm arm around Neville's rigid shoulders.
"Calm down, Nev. Draco's just trying to lighten the mood, in his own, borderline obscene, way. There's no reason for you to be so worked up about this. You do remember who is out here on this pitch with you right now, don't you? Two past Hogwarts seekers, still capable of some impressively none-too-shabby moves." Harry glowered suddenly, muttering under his breath. "Despite what Rita bloody Skeeter and The Prophet have to say on the matter." Draco coughed to get their attention, probably also trying to cover a giggle, and rolled his eyes at his Gryffindor lovers.
"Neville, what Harry is trying to impress upon you, is that you aren't in any danger. Even if the worst case scenario happens and, Merlin forbid, you fall off your broom," Neville paled and Harry tightened his hold. "As I said, worst case scenario," Draco continued. "You'll have two exceedingly skilled flyers right by your side. We won't let anything happen to you."
Neville took a deep breath, willing his nerves calm. He nodded and both of the other men with him smiled hugely. It was contagious and pretty soon Neville was grinning like an idiot and barely remembered that he should be having a minor panic attack at this point. Even if he somehow managed to leave this pitch in one piece, he definitely wasn't going to escape the ordeal without making an ass out of himself. "We have eyes only for you Nev," Harry reassured. "No matter what clumsy aerobatics you attempt up there, we'll make sure you come back home safe with us."
Neville nodded again, gripping his broom handle even tighter. He could do this. He did know how to get in the air and start things off, after all. He wasn't a bloody first year student. The accidents normally didn't start occurring until he tried to steer... or land.
-FIN-
41 points for Gryffindor!
Summary: Guilt has a way of sticking with you. Few people knew this better than Neville Longbottom, who on some level had always blamed himself for the loss of his parents. Precious little helped alleviate the ache in chest, but the one thing that worked every time? Bringing smiles to the faces of the two people Neville loved most.
Characters/Pairings: Neville Longbottom; Draco Malfoy; Harry Potter // Neville/Harry/Draco
Genre: gen
Beta: none
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 // super mild & brief cursing; non-explicit mention in passing of a HP characer being suicidal (not a character in the fic); non-explicit reference to sex; m/m/m relationship
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1,083
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: n/a
Note: I've had Neville/Harry/Draco plot bunnies bombarding my brain for months, so I'm finally caving and writing some of them. Assuming I actually keep writing these (I already have a few more in the works), I'm going to call this "universe" the "Third Wheel Universe" (it makes sense based on other installments, not so much this one).
Neville never had been very skilled at saying 'no' to the people he cared about. It was a personality flaw that often came back to bite him in the ass. Many people incorrectly attributed Neville's "yes man" attitude to a doormat personality. In reality, it wasn't a lack of self-worth that led the shy man to be such a people-pleaser. When it came to those he cared about, Neville literally, genuinely, and wholeheartedly, lived to create joy in their lives. Nothing could bring more peace to Neville's world weary soul. He had spent a lot of time as a child, watching the husks of what remained of his parents, suffering in traumatized silence. The guilt of observing their pain, yet being unable to do anything to alleviate it, had slowly eaten away at the boy's childhood naivety. He had ended up with his grandmother, a maternal force to be reckoned with certainly, but knowing full-well that she felt the loss of her children daily. Few people knew it, but Neville was actually quite astutely skilled at reading others. He always had been, even from a very young age. If it hadn't been for her grandson, Neville's grandmother would have given up. Everything. She had never admitted it to him, but she hadn't needed to. He could see the ever-present well of pain behind her eyes. Neville had eventually found the draft of her suicide note, years after graduating Hogwarts, and it had been dated for the night right before she had been given custody of him. All he had ever wanted was to help his grandmother heal but unfortunately, all he seemed able to do for her was remind her of all that she had lost. Nothing Neville could do could change the fact that whenever he was with her, he was causing his sole parental figure sadness. That sort of guilt eats away at a person, and Neville was no exception.
There were some wounds that could never be healed. Some hurts that just went too deep and stung too much. Neville had been raised with the ache of disillusionment in his chest and he had grown past it. He had accepted that there would always be people in the world that, no matter what help anyone tried to offer, they would never feel whole again. Living with that knowledge made Neville's heart hurt and the world around him to grow a bit dim sometimes. When offered the opportunity to bring someone happiness, no matter how insubstantial or fleeting, Neville would always do everything in his power to make it happen. Always.
Harry and Draco both knew this about Neville. It was part of why they both had ended up so hopelessly besotted with the unassuming herbologist. It was also why they had managed to easily persuade Neville to partake in a day of flying lessons. Despite the fact that there was little else Neville hated so much in this world as being airborne. He had never quite got the knack of riding a broom. He could fly, if he needed to, but he avoided it at all costs and when he DID have to? Neville normally came home, tail between his legs, needing at least one minor injury healed. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had been dragged out of bed before first light. Apparently Harry had pulled some strings with Ginny, and they had been granted permission to use the Harpies' practice pitch before the team came in for drills later that afternoon.
"Draco," Neville whined hardheartedly, clasping the Nimbus between his legs with sweaty palms. "I thought you said I needed to stop hurting myself flying, after the last time I came home with that fractured wrist."
Draco smirked, cocking his hip and raising an elegantly arched eyebrow. "You do need to stop hurting yourself when you fly, my accident-prone little gardener. That's why you need to learn how to fly properly once and for all. From us. It's about time somebody showed you. You are far too graceful in bed to be so hopeless riding a broom, Neville. Really, it's embarrassing."
Harry, who had been lazily stretching the sleep out of his body, let loose some explosive chortling. Draco's smirk deepened and his molten eyes sparkled with mirth. Neville knew Draco was only teasing, but he couldn't help the blush that bloomed across his cheeks and the tops of his ears. The Malfoy heir always did know just what to say to ruffle Neville's feathers. After collecting himself, Harry did seem to take pity on the ever-modest herbologist. He sauntered over to the tense man, wrapping a firm arm around Neville's rigid shoulders.
"Calm down, Nev. Draco's just trying to lighten the mood, in his own, borderline obscene, way. There's no reason for you to be so worked up about this. You do remember who is out here on this pitch with you right now, don't you? Two past Hogwarts seekers, still capable of some impressively none-too-shabby moves." Harry glowered suddenly, muttering under his breath. "Despite what Rita bloody Skeeter and The Prophet have to say on the matter." Draco coughed to get their attention, probably also trying to cover a giggle, and rolled his eyes at his Gryffindor lovers.
"Neville, what Harry is trying to impress upon you, is that you aren't in any danger. Even if the worst case scenario happens and, Merlin forbid, you fall off your broom," Neville paled and Harry tightened his hold. "As I said, worst case scenario," Draco continued. "You'll have two exceedingly skilled flyers right by your side. We won't let anything happen to you."
Neville took a deep breath, willing his nerves calm. He nodded and both of the other men with him smiled hugely. It was contagious and pretty soon Neville was grinning like an idiot and barely remembered that he should be having a minor panic attack at this point. Even if he somehow managed to leave this pitch in one piece, he definitely wasn't going to escape the ordeal without making an ass out of himself. "We have eyes only for you Nev," Harry reassured. "No matter what clumsy aerobatics you attempt up there, we'll make sure you come back home safe with us."
Neville nodded again, gripping his broom handle even tighter. He could do this. He did know how to get in the air and start things off, after all. He wasn't a bloody first year student. The accidents normally didn't start occurring until he tried to steer... or land.
-FIN-
41 points for Gryffindor!