D/N Table Challenge - Love Letters
Title: Coarse Correspondence
For: draconeville
Table/Prompt: February #4
Claim: Love letters
Character(s) : Neville, Draco, brief appearances by professors
Word Count: 2575
Rating: M15+
Summary: written insults pave the way for stick-figure porn, friendship, and more
Warning: picspammy due to letters
First Year
It began with anonymous abuse bouncing off his face and onto his book in Charms.
Neville knew who it was from and spent months thinking of suitable comebacks before replying.
Malfoy’s second message only said what Neville was already thinking.
But Neville wasn’t about to let him know that.
Third Year
Malfoy was too busy insulting Muggleborns in Second Year to bother with Neville. Third Year DADA brought him back into the line of fire, thanks to the infamous Snape-Boggart-dressed-like-Longbottom’s-gran. The piece of parchment floated like a small owl feather onto Neville’s sandwich just as he was about to take a bite.
Draco certainly was creative in his insults. Neville opted for rude since that shut him up last time.
The original parchment and incomplete reply sped off Neville’s desk and into Professor Lupin’s hand. “This is a practical lesson Neville.” He glanced at the juvenile messages then at Malfoy while returning the papers. “But you’d best finish this important essay now inspiration has struck. Make it quick, won’t you?”
Draco replied later in the week with a simple drawing.
Neville added to it and sent it back.
Unfortunately Snape was teaching DADA instead of Lupin, and gave them both the same note:
They spent an hour wiping down dusty and sometimes rebellious books with lavender scented cloths. Madam Pince kept them in separate rows, watching to ensure they didn’t get up to any ‘shenanigans’. Draco shoved a crumpled wad of paper into Neville’s pocket as they left the library.
The first sentence made Neville smile. The second made him feel lower on the evolutionary scale than the wad of paper it was written on. Crabbe and Goyle met Malfoy on the stairs. Neville wondered how often Draco called them fat, stupid, and useless trolls. Then he wondered if perhaps Draco Malfoy had a ‘type’ and sent a reply by school owl.
No more notes were exchanged that year.
Fourth Year
Professor Moody provided ammunition for Neville to strike the first blow.
The trip to the infirmary to remove horns suddenly growing from his forehead was worth it.
The end of the Triwizard Tournament revealed the return of Lord Voldemort and that Neville’s new hero, Professor Moody, was actually Barty crouch Jr. the youngest of three Death Eaters sent to Azkaban for torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom. The evil bastard had used the Cruciatus Curse in class, encouraged him to talk about his parents and their insane behaviours AND HE’D BLOODY CAUSED IT!
The single word from Malfoy was the last straw.
Neville was through with being bullied and screwed around for other people’s entertainment. His new determination inspired him to carve his final message for the year into the Slytherin table, at the place where Malfoy always sat.
Fifth Year
Neville had already attacked the Slytherin prick once for his impression of someone with a spell-damaged brain and Draco risked further physical retaliation by repeating the performance whenever he caught Neville alone.
Draco made a point of being the one to apprehend Neville any time Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad clashed with Dumbledore’s Army. Luna was the only person to find that significant. Neville hoped to use that to his advantage in their private war.
Sixth Year
A lot of things changed after the events at the Ministry but something about the lack of Malfoy-instigated bullying bothered Neville. There were no stupid, fat and useless remarks. Crabbe and Goyle still went out of their way to slap Neville’s books out of his hands or trip him over, but Draco looked like a sleepwalker most of the time. Neville slid a note onto Draco’s desk while handing out Snape’s most recent DADA quiz.
“Piss off!” The slip of parchment disappeared into Draco’s pocket, though. This lame response made Neville more concerned so he tried again later.
That was more like it. Neville smiled. He didn’t understand why he missed their aggressive rivalry, or why silent, melancholy Draco was far more frightening than openly abusive Malfoy. The day Draco was taken to the infirmary after Harry attacked him turned Neville’s insides out. Nothing about that incident made sense, no matter which version of events he listened to. Neville was too confused to ask either of them directly and didn’t dare write to Draco. Harry looked as though he’d opened a toilet door and plummeted into hell, which seemed to happen to him at least once a year. Neville avoided them both as much as possible.
The news about Dumbledore was shocking, the rumours of Draco’s involvement more so. Ginny assured Neville that those rumours were true. Harry had seen and heard everything. Neville had only seen horrified Draco being dragged along by severely pissed off Professor Snape, and didn’t particularly give a shit at the time as he’d been in his pyjamas and fighting off Death Eaters. Not surprisingly Draco didn’t return to Hogwarts for Dumbledore’s funeral. That didn’t stop Neville looking for him among the mourners, though. Neville had already written to him. It took him almost another week to send it.
He was surprised by Draco’s immediate response. They wrote back and forth for the rest of the day.
Neville wasn’t sure if implying Draco remained a shit, or admitting he kept the dumb insults put an end to their correspondence.
Seventh Year
Neville’s new-found rebellious side earned a warning from an unexpected quarter.
Honesty was easier on paper.
Draco kept evidence of their crude humour? Neville laughed and followed his example.
Draco’s secret smile as he read that last one dulled the glare aimed directly at Neville during Transfiguration. Whatever reply he penned was incinerated with a touch of Professor McGonagall’s wand. Her complexion was almost the same shade of embarrassed pink as Draco’s. Curiosity became a curse of its own.
Two weeks after Neville went underground a house-elf named Dobby brought him a note to alter his heartbeat.
The stick-figure sex acts were male adolescent bravado, this was personal and suspicious.
Disgusted by this boast, Neville refused to reply and began burning their correspondence in chronological order. He was setting the corners to ‘squibs like you’ alight when another message arrived. Neville hesitated before unfolding the parchment rectangle.
Perhaps Draco hadn’t been boasting in the previous note. Had he confided in anyone else like this? Neville stopped burning old notes in favour of re-reading them in search of clues to Draco’s motives. Deciding he was afraid and confused, like Neville, Neville wrote back.
Draco probably thought Neville was asking for political reasons, not personal. A return to light banter should put him at ease.
Neville snuck out of the Room for reconnaissance with Seamus and saw Draco talking to Professor Snape in the corridor. Draco’s eyes flitted from Neville’s face to the elusive door behind them as Neville shoved Seamus back inside. “…just a ghost,” he heard Draco say to Snape. “Bit jittery with that pervert Alecto roaming about…” the door closed on the lie. Everyone knew Snape and Draco weren’t as friendly as they used to be. Draco wouldn’t want to share the reward for revealing the DA’s whereabouts. Dumbledore’s Army waited for the Death Eaters to come. Sneakoscopes and Foe Glass showed no increase in activity for weeks. Neville knew there would be no attack on the Room when familiar handwriting scolded him.
Luna returned to Hogwarts with news of Harry, Hermione and Ron. Neville kissed her in a non-snoggy way that somehow became entirely snoggy. They apologised with more enthusiasm than they kissed. They were close friends, pleased to see each other alive, and the whole boy-girl thing got in the way. Luna admitted to being attracted to Dean and loving Neville like a brother. Neville learned something about a number of relationships. There was only one person he felt comfortable sharing this epiphany with, probably because they were never in each other’s company beyond ink on parchment.
No answer. He’d known that last bit was taking it too far. This attachment to his pen pal wasn’t mutual. He truly was stupid.
Harry’s return meant the end was near. War came to Hogwarts in full force. One last note found its way to Neville.
He read it as a warning and request, rather than threat. Draco Malfoy did not say ‘please’ to people beneath him, people like Neville. Draco would definitely torture to defend his mother and might go further. Neville took the enchanted DA coin from his pocket and changed the writing on both sides with his wand:
for Merlin’s sake do NOT challenge Narcissa Malfoy unless you want to become ceiling paint. Draco won’t hesitate to kill us if we threaten his Mummy
The battle was on and the last letter felt heavy in his shirt pocket. It became a talisman, proof that the hardest heart had a soft spot. None of the Malfoys were spotted among the Death Eaters wreaking havoc on school grounds. Narcissa and Lucius must have gone to Hogsmeade to collect their son along with parents of other Slytherin students.
Voldemort called a temporary truce. Neville saw a slender hooded male walk among the wounded and dead, barely sparing each a glance before moving on and letting other people deal with them. Why wasn’t he in the Forbidden Forest with the other Death Eaters or banished from Hogwarts with the rest of Slytherin? Rather than draw attention to Draco’s presence, Neville made words appear in the ground at his feet.
The wounded witch over Neville’s shoulder spoke haltingly. “I can’t join them now. My last bargaining chip has been destroyed. If I help, he will know.” Neville almost dropped her.
“How are you doing that?” he called after the retreating figure and dreaded the answer.
“Imperius Curse,” the witch replied more willingly. “Still willing to fight for me? ... Stop looking at my arse and get her inside before she dies.”
Neville hastened to the Great Hall and carefully placed the young Hufflepuff on one of the many hospital beds.
“He does have a nice arse,” she murmured with a weak smile. “I think he likes you.”
“I think you’re delirious,” Neville replied and went in search of more wounded.
Neville was proud of his speech against Voldemort. Everyone else seemed more impressed that he’d beheaded a snake. Oh well, even misguided admiration was nice. He noticed Draco leave the safety of his family group but didn’t expect him to approach Neville’s new, and now doubt temporary fan club. The witches and wizards huddled protectively around Neville. It was rather embarrassing. Draco ignored them as he stood across the table and put down the last parchment they’d both written on.
Several sets of eyes followed Draco’s finger pointing to the bottom line, “Thank you,” and then to the top. “Sorry.” Neville looked up as he tapped the middle section. “Let me make it up to you?” Neville stood and they kissed across the table. Some wonderful person moved the furniture out of their way while the majority muttered or exclaimed in surprise. Draco’s arms wound possessively around Neville’s waist and shoulders. Their bodies pressed almost as close as their lips as Neville mirrored the embrace. They kissed repeatedly for different durations and at different speeds, mouths open at varying angles, using alternate degrees of tongue, and with increasing desperation. Neville squeezed one side of Draco’s bum and the kiss ended without warning. “We aren’t alone Longbottom, you whore.”
Neville grinned despite his embarrassment and Draco began to lead him from the Great Hall.
“Where’s your family?” Neville asked, their accumulating audience forgotten.
“Heading home. I told them there was someone important I hoped to do before I’d be ready to leave. They decided not to wait.”
Merlin’s pants! “Is this for real, or is Blaise Zabini going to be sending photos of my naked bits to the Quibbler?”
Without warning, Draco pushed Neville’s back to a wall and pressed against him, pulling Neville’s hand down between them. That definitely felt real. Neville kissed him again and Draco’s response almost made him come. Then Draco hauled Neville away from the wall by both wrists and continued to the Slytherin common room.
“Whose bed is this?”
“Don’t know.”
Good enough. They lay on their sides and began touching each other up as they resumed kissing. There was no thought of consequence, only now. Draco’s skin was smooth and his frame lean. His hands on Neville were warm, eager and firm.
“Since we never agree on who tops and who bottoms, it’ll have to be outside stuff only this time.”
“Okay,” Neville agreed in a tight voice.
“What? You do want to, don’t you?”
Neville nodded frantically and began removing his war-stained clothing. “Just didn’t expect this, from, you.” His hand had found Draco’s cock, almost by instinct. Pale eyes closed and Draco reflexively fucked Neville’s fingers as his own fumbled around Neville’s shaft. They tugged and rutted clumsily before finding comfortable angles and tempos. It didn’t take long to come once they’d got it right.
They panted and glanced at the mess they’d made between them when they were done. Wanking never had results like that. They kissed, cleaned up, and kissed again.
“Knew you were a chubby chaser,” Neville said from the safety of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. Draco pinched him between ribs and hip.
“Looked in a mirror lately?”
“Tried to avoid them entirely for the past seven years,” Neville admitted.
“Because of this?” Draco asked solemnly, handing back the written insult that started their journey.
“Why are we here now, like this? Why did you keep writing?” Neville asked as he folded the hurtful message and put it in a pocket.
“You were always brave and funny on paper. I nearly died of shame when Snape and McGonagall found the saucy ones.” They looked back on the humiliating moments with mutual amusement.
“I hope we’ll keep writing now school’s over,” Neville admitted.
Draco summoned a quill and held out his left forearm. There was no Dark Mark. “Write your home address on here.” He stared at the side of Neville’s face as he complied.
“What?” he asked self-consciously.
“You told the Dark Lord what you thought of him, to his noseless face.”
“And killed his snake,” Neville added and released Draco’s wrist.
“Nagini didn’t know the Killing Curse.” Draco lifted Neville’s arm and wrote his address on it. Neville didn’t notice until he began copying it onto paper that Draco had written ‘my hero’ underneath.
one year later
They’d written a different compliment on every body part using edible body ink.
“Happy Anniversary,” they said together and kissed. Then they began reading with their tongues...