very late fill for March table prompt (1/3)
Title: Cast Him Off One Day (AO3)
Author: shutupeccles
Claim: Drinking Game
Character(s) : Seamus, Neville, Draco, Blaise, Gryffindors, Slytherins & professors
Table/Prompt: March, # 10
Word Count: 27 619
Rating: R
Summary: Friends notice changes in the way Neville and Draco see each other, so start taking the piss. Some suggest using their attraction to glean information from the opposition. Others warn them to avoid getting involved at all, but temptation proves too much. An emotional alliance forms, only to be strangled by the lies woven to protect it. Will they ever know the truth?
Lions
Seamus Finnigan gathered all the non-Slytherin Seventh Years into one compartment of the Hogwarts Express. ‘In memory of Mad-eye Moody I propose we start the school year with a drinking game.’ He handed everyone a flask modelled after Mad-eye’s famous hip-flask. ‘Fill it with whatever you like. The rule is simple: every time Draco Malfoy boasts or uses the phrase “my father” we take a drink.’
‘We’ll be smashed before the Express arrives!’ Lavender Brown declared.
Seamus raised his flask in mock toast. ‘That is precisely the plan.’
‘Trust you to come up with something like this, Finnigan,’ said Parvati Patil. Her twin sister Padme nodded with a smile.
‘Because I’m Irish I suppose,’ Seamus said in a quarrelsome tone.
‘Because you’re a cheeky shit,’ Terry Boot insisted.
Neville grinned at Seamus. The entire compartment followed suit. This was going to be brilliant.
*~~~*
There was widespread disappointment when they made it through the start-of-term feast and breakfast without using their hip flasks once.
‘The poncing git must realise nobody gives a toss about him and his Death Eater daddy now You-Know-Who’s out in the open,’ Sally-Anne Perks whispered to Hannah Abbott during compulsory Muggle Studies. She was mistaken. Hogwarts without Draco Malfoy seeking fame and dominion was like Gryffindor boys’ dorm without Ron and Harry-wrong. Instinct ensured Neville very much gave a toss.
‘Silencio!’ shrieked Alecto Carrow. The spell muted Sally-Anne’s voice. ‘Keep your Mudbloody mouth shut while I am teaching.’
Neville’s hand moved to his wand and stayed there throughout the lesson. Sally-Anne and Hannah may have ignored Neville or giggled at his misfortunes before he featured in the Daily Prophet for accompanying Harry to the Department of Mysteries, but he wasn’t about to let this Death Eater hag treat students like Flobberworms.
*~~~*
‘New rule,’ Seamus said as he sat on his bed to remove his socks. ‘Any time Malfoy says something insulting to Neville, we take a swig.’
‘We’ll be blind all year,’ Dean Thomas crowed.
‘Thanks guys, great,’ Neville grumbled.
‘Come on Nev. He’s had it in for you since our first trip on the Express thanks to Trevor jumping up his leg.’ Dean didn’t need to remind him.
‘Nah, I reckon it was Neville jumping on after to get him that did the real damage. How high did Trevor get before Malfoy started screaming?’ Seamus asked with a grin before imitating a flailing eleven year old. “Ah, ah!”
Dean laughed. ‘What was it you said to that Prefect? “I was only trying to get him off!”’ Dean and Seamus laughed harder than the familiar routine warranted. Neville flushed a deeper maroon than the stripes on their Gryffindor ties.
‘Did Ron and Harry take your sense of humour with them?’ Seamus asked Neville.
‘I’ve had six years of Malfoy’s goons keeping score of embarrassing stuff like that. I don’t need our whole class doing it.’
‘Fair enough,’ Seamus apologised. ‘Final amendment to the game: Whenever he asks Crabbe and Goyle if they’re thick or what, how’s that?’ he asked.
‘Why do all your ideas revolve around Draco Malfoy?’ Neville wanted to know. Dean subtly nodded along.
‘Because only two things are certain: Potter’s going to find trouble, and Malfoy’s going to be a dick.’
Dean and Neville chuckled at Seamus’ stern pronouncement. The three friends settled into bed and began bagging out their new ‘professors’. Maybe this year wouldn’t be as horrid as Neville dreaded.
*~~~*
The only classes Gryffindor shared with Slytherin were Dark Arts and Potions. Ravenclaw were with them for Muggle Studies and four other subjects, Hufflepuff for the remaining three. There were no electives and no free periods.
‘None of us are going to pass N.E.W.T.’ Justin Finch-Fletchely complained to Terry Boot as they left Slughorn’s classroom.
‘There won’t be any N.E.W.T. you dimwit,’ Malfoy snapped on his way in. ‘Most of the examiners are dead or in hiding.’
‘How do you know?’ Padme Patil asked.
‘The Dark Lord’s living at Draco’s House,’ Crabbe boasted.
Malfoy glared at him. ‘Imbecile,’ he declared.
There was a bustle as the non-Slytherins around them sipped from their Mad-Eye commemorative flasks.
‘Who they gonna tell Draco, the Ministry?’ Crabbe asked as Draco stared curiously at the commotion.
‘We are the Ministry.’ Sophie Roper freed the Slytherin tie from her robes with feigned nonchalance and her finger casually reached for Draco’s wrist.
His eyes met Neville’s as his hand subtly sought refuge in a robe pocket. Then he shoved past Neville to claim the best Potions table.
‘What did Roper mean?’ Dean asked in a whisper as he and Seamus joined Neville at the table furthest from Slughorn’s desk.
‘Is she Malfoy’s bitch?’ Seamus asked with less subtlety.
Neville’s book slipped from his hands and landed on the bench with a slap. Draco turned at the sound, looked up, observed Neville’s pink cheeks, and added his usual sneer as their eyes met again. Neville immediately looked down.
‘Her grandfather was one of the original Death Eaters,’ Neville told Dean and Seamus in a low voice. He’d done a lot of research since Professor Moody turned out to be a Death Eater and knew the elder Bartemius Crouch used all three Unforgiveable Curses on members of Sophie’s family during the hunt for those who tortured Neville’s parents. ‘Gran told me,’ he lied. He didn’t want anyone knowing details of his personal history. It was bad enough that Malfoy knew and whispered Neville’s secrets back to him in Fifth Year, hoping Neville would break and betray the D.A. The comments changed, becoming more personal and intimate like the way Draco grabbed him, until one night they’d made out.
‘Think this will convince me to talk?’ Neville asked after coming in Draco’s hand.
‘If not, I’ll have to fuck the information out of you,’ Draco threatened seductively. His lips teased Neville’s, brushing over them lightly until he couldn’t suppress his own climax any longer. Their mouths crushed together before approaching footsteps scared them apart. ‘Nearly distracted me, Gryffindor slut,’ Draco said while drawing his wand and pushing Neville away from the wall.
‘Whose hand was down whose pants?’ Neville asked in protest.
Draco said nothing else as he hauled Neville to Umbridge’s office, but his hand slid from Neville’s elbow until their fingers linked. The way Draco restrained him during Umbridge’s interrogation was erotic and they subtly moved against each other. No-one paid them any attention and Draco bit his neck between whispering maliciously arousing drabbles. ‘Can I pull your hair like this while I come in your arse? Would you like that? Fuck you against a window.’
Neville hissed ‘Yes’ without moving his lips. Keeping his eyes closed helped control his trouser snake but meant he missed the Bat-Bogey Hex Ginny aimed at Draco. Neville squeezed Draco’s hand before escaping with the others and following Harry to the Ministry.
Nothing had been said or done about it since. Neville chalked it up as another lost opportunity and tried to follow Slughorn’s instructions without burning the school down. The Genesis Potion was best used for separating mixtures and compounds into their original components, but had disastrous effects on processed organic material. Each student was given protective gloves, shoe and robe covers as Sluggy described the time Peter Pettigrew’s leather shoes tried returning to their bovine state while he was still wearing them.
‘The Impervious Charm is applied to every surface of the senior dungeon on a daily basis, as spills occur even at a professional level, so don’t be alarmed. Gregory Goyle, dispose of whatever is in your mouth this instant. Most unhygienic! As I was saying…’ Sluggy waddled throughout the room peering at preparations as he chattered on.
Dean looked sideways at Neville and Seamus’ tragic concoctions and moved his cauldron to Lavender Brown’s table. Seamus complained at this betrayal. Neville let his potion boil dry as he avidly stared at Draco’s back, thinking he would like to dig all ten fingers into it while they...
‘Put that flame out Longbottom,’ Slughorn cried urgently and bounded across the dungeon.
‘Against a window?’ Neville lazily asked his daydream.
Professor and students stared at him as though he’d become Luna Lovegood. All except Draco, who dropped the flask he’d been filling onto the floor. The magically reinforced glass did not shatter but some of the Genesis Potion bounced out on impact. A single splash hit the wad of gum Goyle pressed under the desk and it began to writhe, unnoticed, until it whinnied.
Draco slapped Goyle’s thick head. ‘You dolt! Why didn’t you swallow?’
‘Was that a horse?’ Lavender Brown asked before anyone could remember the drinking game or turn Draco’s question into lewd conjecture. ‘Bubble gum’s made of HORSE?’ She began to retch.
Sophie Roper and Millicent Bulstrode joined in. Slughorn evacuated the classroom to prevent more pupils becoming distressed. The Gryffindor common room was soon full of laughter inducing impressions of Lavender and Roper freaking out, Roper cosying up to Malfoy and his retreat, Malfoy and Goyle, or Malfoy saying the same thing to Roper after hearing he’d gotten her pregnant.
Neville tried not to care that Draco deliberately looked him in the eye, twice, that the cruel sneer left the curiosity in Draco’s eyes untouched, or that his reaction to the mindless window reference meant he also remembered.
Seamus clicked the fingers of both hands directly in front of Neville’s nose. ‘Ay, you inhale cauldron fumes or what?’ he asked as Neville blinked rapidly. ‘Come on, the lanky git called the fat idiot a dolt. It may not be as fun drinkin’ t’ that in here instead of in front of the beggars, but could y’ at least join in? Boot suggested makin’ it each time Malfoy insults anybody but that might make it too obvious.’
‘Obvious is good,’ Dean said in support of this latest adjustment. ‘We can start a betting pool on how long it takes him to figure it out and use the takings to buy something for Susan Bones.’
Lavender and Parvati thought that was a brilliant idea. Neville agreed, but only because Susan deserved a gift from friends at Hogwarts. He couldn’t help thinking this game would further divide the Houses and make it impossible to get into Draco’s pants.
*~~~*
Silver flasks upended in a wave rippling away from the Slytherin table as Malfoy badmouthed several students during dinner. Students in the years below watched their seniors with intense curiosity each time the behaviour was repeated.
‘What’s that about?’ Colin Creevey asked.
‘Seventh Year ritual,’ Parvati replied.
‘None of the previous years have done it.’
‘Ah, but there wasn’t a Slytherin Headmaster then, was there?’ Seamus said with a wink. Lavender giggled so Seamus winked again and added a broad, flirty smile for her benefit. Lavender blushed. Dean nudged Neville.
‘Interesting development,’ Dean murmured. Neville agreed by raising his eyebrows.
Whispering began at the Slytherin table as the routine continued over breakfast and in morning classes. Neville made the contact of his lips against the mouth of the flask as suggestive as possible when curious grey eyes met his. Draco’s gaze narrowed shrewdly during Dark Arts after lunch. He delivered his sharpest Neville insult to date as they left the classroom and followed it with a small, smug smile. The game could be over just as it started to get interesting.
It came to an end a day later when the eight Ravenclaws were treated for alcoholic poisoning after vomiting in herbology, prompting Headmaster Snape to admonish the year group in front of the entire school.
‘Immature, irresponsible, and utterly worthless, adjectives that apply to the students involved as well as their actions. Accio flasks!’ One eyebrow disappeared beneath his lank, black fringe as twenty four Mad-Eye Moody commemorative hip-flasks landed neatly at his feet. ‘Well, well. Of thirty four senior students, only ten have enough sense to not participate in this frivolity.’ Snape glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. ‘Or perhaps they were deliberately excluded and this game is more sinister than first appears. Seventh Years of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor will serve detention every Saturday afternoon until the instigator comes forward.’
No-one spoke, raised a hand, or stepped away from Seamus.
‘Very well,’ Snape said in a voice colder than a Dementor’s breath and nodded for the Heads of House to issue further punishment as they saw fit. Points were deducted and eloquent reprimands delivered in the privacy of each common room.
‘If this nonsense began with Gryffindor House then heads will roll,’ Professor McGonagall assured them. ‘This form of tribute was more suited to James Potter and Sirius Black than Alastor Moody.’ Seamus was dubbed a hero once she left the room.
*~~~*
Neville whistled as he washed his hands in the senior boys’ bathroom, sucking the sound in instead of blowing it out as a cubicle opened behind him. He could see Draco’s wand aimed at his back thanks to the mirror and spun around.
‘Fun little game that, Longbottom, but a bit clever for you. Did grannie get you a brain for your birthday?’
‘Shame you didn’t get the personality I sent for yours,’ Neville retorted. ‘Aren’t you going to grab me by the hair and jab your wand at my throat?’
‘Distance prevents spells rebounding. Surely the Chosen One taught you that. Or perhaps the DA was more about gang-banging Mudbloods than…’ Draco smoothly deflected Neville’s jinx then delivered a non-verbal hex. Seamus walked in before the duel escalated to curses. Draco and Neville lowered their wands as though they’d been caught exchanging intimate pleasantries rather than harmful spells. Seamus kept his eyes on them, and they on him, as he entered a cubicle and locked the door.
Neville turned back to the running tap. He wasn’t quite willing to break the tension they’d created. Neither was Draco. He pressed against Neville’s back.
‘Get your fat arse out of the way, Big-bottom. I need to wash my hands.’
Neville wiggled a bit to stop his privates being crushed against the sink and looked toward three more basins. Draco caused a crack in two with a negligent wave of his wand. The one adjacent to theirs almost exploded. Neville’s shield charm was strong enough to protect them both from being blinded by ceramic dust.
‘Developed reflexes, too? Someone’s finally living up to their pureblood potential.’ Draco moved his hands under the water while his words tickled past Neville’s ear.
The warmth of Draco’s body against his back was familiar and ignited a number of fantasies normally reserved for night time, or the shower. It didn’t stop Neville glowering at him through their reflections. Their hatefully horny stare was broken by the lavatory flushing behind them and their eyes snapped up to lock onto Seamus.
‘Jay-zuss Christ,’ he declared. ‘Can’t you two stop flirting long enough for a fella to poop in peace? And do y’ have to make such an almighty mess while doing it?’ Seamus exclaimed as he saw the obliterated basin and left without washing his hands.
‘Filthy half-blood,’ Draco muttered. He blew Neville’s reflection a sarcastic kiss and smacked his bum before walking out of the bathroom. Neville took a moment to regain his composure but it wasn’t enough. He ducked back into a cubicle for a wank.
*~~~*
‘You’ve got to have noticed! He couldn’t keep his hands off you at the end of Fifth Year, could he Dean?’ Seamus sought verification of his ‘flirting’ comment while the three remaining Gryffindors lay in their dormitory beds.
‘It’s only b’cause I’m pureblood,’ Neville protested sleepily. ‘Otherwise I’m as hideous as Muggles in his opinion. I can’t stand him either. It’s just… I dunno what it is.’
‘He’d be after information on Harry,’ said Dean.
Seamus only partly agreed. ‘It’s more than that. The more Neville rebels, the more Malfoy wants to get it into him.’
‘Has it in for him, you mean?’ Dean asked.
‘I meant precisely what I said.’
‘It isn’t funny,’ Neville protested.
‘Yeah, it is.’ Seamus didn’t laugh, but Neville could almost hear him grin. ‘You should let him think you’re properly interested, pretend to give him important information, and get him to spy for you instead.’
‘Don’t do it Neville. That would only make you as bad as he is.’
‘No-one’s as bad as that prick.’
‘Then why didn’t he kill Dumbledore?’ Neville asked quietly. It was a greater mystery than Slytherin’s secret chamber. No-one had a clue.
*~~~*
With Hogsmeade trips cancelled, the inter house quidditch matches were the only thing non-Slytherin students had to look forward to, unless their team played against Slytherin.
‘It’d be a different matter if Harry was still our seeker,’ Seamus said the day after Gryffindor were creamed 750-50.
‘Oh please!’ Ginny sat on the floor reading the latest edition of The Quibbler. ‘Last year you were complaining that he only put my relatives and Hermione’s boyfriends on the team.’
‘And your boyfriends,’ Lavender teased from the fireplace. She nudged Dean with a freshly painted toe because he had been dating Ginny while filling in for Katie Bell. Ginny and Dean laughed it off. Last year’s animosities were forgotten now Death Eaters ruled the ministry and Hogwarts.
‘The Slytherins are out training, again!’ Colin Creevey complained from a common room window.
‘Not all of them,’ Seamus said and kicked the bottom of Neville’s shoe. ‘The big show off’s not even on the team.’
‘Eh?’ He’d been drifting off for a nanna-nap. Seamus tilted his head to the window. Neville turned in his chair in time to see a broomstick zoom into the sky like a firework. Instead of exploding when it reached maximum height, the flyer crossed his legs under the broom, let go of the handle, extended both arms level with his shoulders, slowly arched backwards and then brought his knees up to his chest so the broom flipped and streaked toward the ground. ‘Fuck.’ Neville bounded out of the chair and pressed his face against the window pane. ‘Pull up, pull up, pull up!’ he chanted urgently and several people rushed to look.
‘Holy shit, he’s actually as good as he thinks he is!’ Seamus exclaimed as Draco gripped the broom handle, spun on its axis and caused ripples in the grass as he shot back into the sky to do it again.
Dean passed Neville a set of omnoculars. Once he got the zoom right he could see the tension leave Draco’s features as he closed his eyes and let go… In that moment he was completely free. Neville inhaled a heavy lungful of awe and wished he wasn’t such a hopeless flyer. Ginny was the only person still watching by the time Draco finished and Neville turned away to give Dean’s omnoculars back. She wasn’t looking out the window.
‘You’re worth fifty of him, Neville. Until he realises that you should look elsewhere.’
Neville stared at the omnoculars in his hands. He thought about the heated exchange in the boys’ washroom and minor, everyday encounters since term began. ‘Maybe he already has.’ Neville handed the omnoculars to Ginny. She looked at him curiously instead of arguing and suggested heading down to dinner.
Serpents
DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY - STILL RECRUITING
The writing on the Hogwarts wall caused something to writhe like a clutch of salamanders within Draco’s soul. He didn’t want to cross over into enemy territory. They fought for Muggle and Mudblood freedom when witches and wizards were the ones living in captivity. The Dark Lord’s leadership was increasingly questionable but the original principles were sound. Why couldn’t Potter and Longbottom see that? Disenchanted Death Eaters would flock to the pureblood and his Friend Who Lived if they supported the true cause. Draco could not instigate the necessary revolution. He’d alienated both sides in the astronomy tower.
*~~~*
Blaise Zabini’s mother invented the party game during the Seventies. It helped her seduce four wealthy but otherwise ill-fated husbands, including Blaise’s father.
‘There are three central components,’ Blaise explained while pointing to a blank square of parchment, a row of sand timers, and the spinning arrow between them. ‘We place our right index finger on a timer and the game enters our names around the spinner before choosing whose turn it is. There is no set order. Players are completely at its mercy. Instructions appear on the parchment. The spinner points to the person who will help you fulfil that task. If it points to your name when it’s your turn then you do it alone. Each timer allows between one and six minutes per turn. An alcoholic drink appears on top of a timer when that player’s turn is over. If you succeed in following the instructions or answer any questions put to you honestly, the drink tastes nice. Fail or lie, and the drink will taste foul.’
‘How complicated are these instructions?’ Millicent Bulstrode asked.
‘Between one and six words.’
Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe immediately agreed to play. The five Slytherin girls stared at Theodore Nott and Draco, as though using the Imperius curse to make them join in.
‘Nott?’ Blaise asked. ‘Malfoy won’t play unless you do and the girls won’t play without him.’
Draco’s finger immediately found a timer before Nott said no, which he would. Nott always avoided schoolyard politics and capers and Draco would prefer if he didn’t play. Merlin only knew which female banshee Theodore would end up snogging-or worse, knowing Mrs Zabini. Draco’s ego carried a bruise from trying to kiss Nott after the Yule Ball. Blaise knew about Draco’s crush but not that he acted on it. Crabbe, Goyle, and the Slytherin girls were oblivious to Draco’s preference-his male associates because they were thick, the witches because they were too busy fighting each other to get into his or Nott’s pureblood pants. Luckily this meant the Longbottom obsession escaped their notice.
The first few turns were innocent frivolity. Draco’s Dark Mark began to tingle just as Sophie and Daphne were swapping blouses.
‘Where are you going?’ Pansy, Sophie and Blaise asked as he stood abruptly.
‘Duty calls.’ He showed them the darkening brand on his forearm. Parkinson just about creamed her pleated skirt. He didn’t bother telling them it was only Snape calling. It burned like a dying phoenix when the Dark Lord summoned him. Alecto and Amycus Carrow were also heading to the headmaster’s office. Draco couldn’t stand either of them. Instead of teaching students how to overthrow Muggles in her Muggle Studies lessons, Alecto spent all her time bitching about them. Some of her insults were amusing but Draco would prefer a practical approach. He already knew half of what Amycus taught in Dark Arts, thanks to Aunt Bella. Draco had given up any remaining hope that Crabbe and Goyle would develop a brain between them after meeting the Carrows. Knowing the moronic siblings were branded as he was made the Dark Mark far less honourable.
Snape spoke as soon as the school-based Death Eaters arrived. ‘A furore at the ministry offices has been attributed to Potter and friends. A number of Muggleborns and half-bloods have escaped directly under Dolores Umbridge’s powdered nose. Granger was followed to number twelve Grimmauld Place, from which she immediately apparated. Bellatrix and Narcissa have been assigned to interrogate the house-elf, Kreacher, as the property once belonged to their blood-traitor cousin. Kreacher has yet to be found. It is possible, although highly unlikely, that Potter will seek refuge with another school acquaintance. Should he arrive at Hogwarts,’ Snape paused, ‘he is to be detained only. The pleasure of killing him is reserved for the Dark Lord. Disobedience in this matter will incur Unforgivable consequences. That is all.’
Draco wasted no time returning to the dorm, if only to avoid being drawn into conversation with the Carrows. Nott didn’t bother closing his book as enquiring eyes turned Draco’s way.
‘Potter’s been spotted. We’ve been instructed to stun or body-bind if he shows his specky face.’
‘Then what?’ Goyle asked.
‘Then He’ll come, won’t he?’ Pansy asked with breathy reverence.
Draco doubted she’d be so enthusiastic if she’d ever met the abomination. Being Slytherin’s final heir didn’t erase the paternal mud from its veins. Nott knew because his grandfather went to school with the boy who became Lord Voldemort. Perhaps Nott had been laying bait to see what Draco would do with the supposed confidence. He couldn’t trust anyone or reveal that he did not trust them, so he immediately joined the game that was still in progress. ‘Whose turn is it?’
‘But…’ Pansy wanted to speculate about things Draco would rather ignore for now.
‘I’m not going to sit around waiting for Potter to make a scene when I could be getting pissed.’ He shrugged casually as the game board decided who to embarrass next. ‘Where’d Bulstrode and Crabbe go?’
Pansy and Daphne chortled into their hands. ‘Mil’s task was to finger herself for five minutes, Vincent’s was to lick her out for three, so they’re in the girls’ dorm combining the two,’ Pansy explained with devilish glee. ‘They’re probably fucking by now.’
Draco shuddered. ‘If this game spins up something that horrifying for me I’m transfiguring Zabini’s penis into a zucchini.’
‘Wand at the ready,’ Nott murmured as the timer beneath Blaise’s finger began to glow and the spinner pointed to Draco’s name. Draco laughed in Nott’s direction until the word kiss appeared on the parchment square. Nott raised an eyebrow in teasing amusement and Draco once more lamented his staunchly hetero habits. If Theodore returned his earlier interest then even this rebellious version of Longbottom would have remained a non-entity.
‘Let’s get this over with. How long do we have to snog before being blessed with alcohol?’
‘Doesn’t look like long,’ Daphne said as she leaned down to examine Blaise’s timer. ‘But it doesn’t begin counting down until you actually start.’
‘Ooh, my turn!’ Sophie said.
Blaise didn’t bother leading Draco far. They sat on the end of his bed with the curtains drawn. Blaise asked if they could stop yet after brief lip contact. Daphne called out to keep going. ‘We’ll let you know when to stop.’
‘You better,’ Blaise called back.
Draco soon discovered he didn’t mean it. Not if the way his mouth moved against Draco’s was a reliable indicator. It was surprisingly nice, being kissed with gently increasing enthusiasm. He and Longbottom pretty much ravaged each other in Fifth Year. Longbottom showed no hesitation when coming to the Weasley tart’s defence. His reaction had been instinctive and he’d quickly turned to defend himself when Draco joined the fray. They’d begun to duel properly, closing in on each other and then... Longbottom responded instead of pushing Draco away as expected, moaning yes and bringing them even closer when Draco touched him. Immediately after, in Umbridge’s office, surrounded by potential witnesses, they’d pretty much agreed to fuck.
Those memories combined with present actions saw the two friends soon wrapped around each other to exchange urgent, open-mouthed kisses.
‘Time’s up!’ One of the girls declared before Blaise and Draco began humping against each other.
Blaise kissed him once more. Draco pretended not to see the question in his expression and hurried off the bed. Crabbe and Bulstrode were still in the girls’ dorm. Goyle had just finished giving Parkinson a series of hickies. Blaise sombrely picked up his alcoholic drink as it appeared. The timer beneath Draco’s finger began to glow.
Answer one question from… The spinning arrow pointed to Daphne Greengrass. Her eyes narrowed rather meanly as she pondered her single question. He expected it to be about why he refused to kill Albus Dumbledore.
‘Who were you thinking of while making out with Blaise?’
‘What?’ Goyle asked, showing intelligence for the second time in his life.
‘Is that seriously the most pressing thought on your mind?’ Draco asked. Sophie and Pansy clearly thought it was also more important to know who Draco got off on rather than anything of actual significance. Blaise subtly glowered at Nott. Nott subtly ignored him. Draco decided to make the truth sound like a farcical lie. ‘Neville Longbottom,’ he replied with sarcastic aplomb then swallowed his drink in one shot. He grimaced and pretended to gag because it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. ‘Merlin's arsehole, is that bubotubor pus?’
Nott chortled in gentle counterpoint to the raucous laughter of their fellow senior Slytherins before Slughorn came upstairs to put an end to it.
*~~~*
Slytherin and Hufflepuff were kept back in Transfiguration because Vincent Crabbe decided to be a git. His attempt to transform McGonagall’s hat into a meat eating plant did not work and the old bat was as unimpressed by the sloppy spellwork as the attempt on her life.
‘Own up so we can get out of here,’ Draco muttered angrily.
‘Don’t listen to Malfoy, Crabbe. He can’t be trusted after that polyjuice stuff,’ Goyle grumbled bitterly.
‘Independent thought, from you? The world truly is coming to an end.’ Draco’s droll delivery earned half a smile from Nott that would have meant everything a year ago. Now Draco’s pants were filled with thoughts of that loser Longbottom.
‘It was Crabbe, Professor!’ Pansy Parkinson called out in an effort to gain Nott, Malfoy or Zabini’s respect. She clearly had no idea that Goyle was the only pureblood Slytherin who wanted her.
McGonagall finally let the Seventh Years go so her next class could begin. Draco lagged back to avoid Parkinson and Roper and found himself in the doorway with Longbottom. They just stood and stared for a moment before turning enough to sidle past each other but even that was enough to make breathing difficult. Draco tried emptying his mind in preparation for the next lesson but the thought of shamelessly grabbing Longbottom and doing him against the doorjamb made concentrating on anything else impossible.
*~~~*
Theodore Nott looked up from his novel once Crabbe and Goyle left the dorm then dropped the book and scooted to the end of his bed to address Draco. ‘Now the intelligence level of the room has risen above mountain troll, would you mind explaining the enormous air-boner between you and the blood traitor?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if those apes were behind it.’ Blaise nodded toward the door. ‘They aren’t precisely subtle at plotting against you. Whatever the cause, you should take full advantage of it.’
Draco and Theodore stared at Blaise. ‘What possible advantage can there be in having Longbottom lust after you?’ Theodore asked.
‘None, unless the Dark Lord visits your home on weekends and you’d like to do more than apologise for your family’s most recent mistake. Cosy up to Gryffindor’s buffoon in the occasional corridor and I guarantee he’ll tell you anything for an opportunity to get even closer.’
‘Blaise thinks he knows because his mother is the empress of manipulative sex. In this instance he’s wrong. Longbottom may lust after you, but he detests you all the same.’
‘He’s becoming more Draco’s type as the year goes by: notorious, influential, pureblood, dangerous, male. Add looks and Malfoy would probably be in love.’
‘Shove off Zabini. I can’t stand the Gryffindor toad.’
‘Who can? He’s got fewer friends than you.’
Draco felt the insult behind Blaise’s statement but pretended not to. He sat on the edge of his bed, facing Nott as Theodore continued to issue warnings. ‘Longbottom’s no longer the timid fool we all know and despised. Don’t underestimate him as an enemy.’
‘Draco’s noticed. Haven’t you seen the admiration in his groin at the blood traitor’s open defiance?’
Nott gazed blankly at Zabini. ‘We’ve already established that they’re hot for each other, thank you Blaise. Now we’re trying to solve that problem.’ While Nott didn’t speak as coldly to Draco, his tone remained far from friendly or affectionate. Theodore didn’t have close friends at school either, although his solitude was a choice he made in First Year and Draco’s was increasingly enforced. ‘Perhaps you should get off with one of those witches in your fan-club before they realise why you’re happy to flirt but constantly refuse serious advances. You can’t afford to lose their loyalty as well. Or try Blaise, he’ll do you in a heartbeat. It would probably be over that quickly, too.’
Blaise left the room without retaliating. Playing that drinking game of his mother’s proved he was attracted to Draco. There was no point arguing or denying it. That didn’t mean he had to listen to subsequent ridicule.
‘Longbottom and I hate each other. What’s the harm in one hard fuck to get it out of my system and leaving it at that?’ Draco asked Nott.
‘Because then he will have you properly by the balls. Also, Crabbe and Goyle will never come back to heel if you mess around with Neville Longbottom. May as well find a Mudblood! He’s figured out you’re nothing but a bully with legendary aspirations, knows you want him, and isn’t fighting for individual glory. Any information he did give you would be compromised. He will never be persuaded to join our side. …Or are you considering an alliance?’
‘Indeed I am, Theodore. We’re calling it Muggle-Lovers United. There’s a quidditch team and everything. You can be a member too, for thirty galleons. That’s why there’s no Weasleys.’
Nott smiled.
‘Why Longbottom of all people?’ Draco asked irritably.
‘That’s a question not even the Department of Mysteries can answer.’
*~~~*
This thing with Longbottom made less sense as the term progressed.
‘Integrity,’ Theodore theorised over pudding. ‘You have none. It stands to reason that you covet ours. Mystery solved.’
‘Thank you for that terse summation, Professor Nott.’
‘Sarcasm will get you nowhere.’
Draco had learned that everything he thought would get him anywhere was leading him straight to nowhere. The only direction available to him was down which was why he spent any spare sunlit time on his broom, soaring to extreme heights, plummeting to earth, so completely at liberty he never knew if he was going to aim for the sky again until the last moment. It was tempting to go splat. If he didn’t love the feel of travelling through the air at high speeds, relying on nothing but an enchanted piece of wood and his own wits, he’d forget everything else he loved about being alive. In the end only one thing kept him aloft-the thought of his mother’s despair if he didn’t. Being married to a Death Eater and believing in the importance of blood purity did not automatically make her a Death Eater, too. Mother had been devastated to the point of uncharacteristic wrath when Draco accepted the invitation to join their ranks, although she never showed anything but pride to his face. He remembered her arguing with Bellatrix over his recruitment and the reason for it.
“My son is my reason for living, Bella. May as well carve out my beating heart and feed it to that wretched snake. If you will not help me protect him then I shall find someone who will.”
*~~~*
He wandered the corridors late at night, usually to the astronomy tower but never reaching the top. Sometimes Snape intercepted him or hovered in the shadows. On the rarest of occasions, they talked.
‘I’m not up to anything this year. You don’t have to follow me.’
‘When Narcissa made me promise to protect you within an Unbreakable Vow, she did not specify from whom.’
‘Meaning history proves I’m mostly in danger from myself.’
‘Neither you nor Longbottom are as foolish nor cowardly as others believe.’
‘Don’t you start,’ Draco muttered sharply.
Snape repeated concealing charms as he slithered closer. ‘You are disappointed because this war is no longer the righteous struggle it should be. The Dark Lord allows many in his council to indulge petty grievances at the expense of their betters.’
‘Stop pandering to my ego, Headmaster.’
‘When Narcissa sought my assistance she deliberately placed herself between you and the Dark Lord.’ Snape paused to ensure Draco knew where his loyalties should lie. ‘Bellatrix has yet to use this information against her sister. I doubt she understands why.’
‘And you think I do?’
‘I believe you understand precisely what is at stake for the magical community whether the Dark Lord succeeds or fails. You see what older, jaded eyes refuse to recognise. Crabbe and Goyle are fools. They can only see what is smothered in cream cheese and dangled at the end of their noses.’
Draco laughed briefly, bluntly. He was the same little more than a year ago.
‘The difference, Draco, is that you have learned what the Dark Mark represents. Entering one form of slavery cannot free us from another.’
‘Treason,’ Draco declared. Snape could not be the ally he pretended to be.
‘Not treason, Draco - truth.’
‘Stop trying to trap me, encourage me to agree so you can tell the Dark Lord what a worm I am.’
‘My life would be forfeit beyond breaking the vow to protect you. Narcissa is more dangerous and vicious than Bellatrix.’ Snape smiled at Draco’s snort of disbelief. ‘Why is it you attend Hogwarts when Lucius would prefer you received magical instruction at Durmstrang? Why has your failure to kill Dumbledore gone unpunished? The Dark Lord makes you torture other Death Eaters who have failed him, or mentions Andromeda and Lupin to humiliate your family, but will not harm you directly. He fears the wrath of a devoted mother more than he feared Dumbledore.’
Draco repeated the centuries old adage. ‘The wand that rocks the cradle is the wand that rules the world.’
‘Indeed. Narcissa Malfoy is a formidable empress. Unfortunately, her loud and obnoxious sibling gets all the attention.’
Draco laughed. ‘I still don’t trust you,’ he insisted.
‘Because you are not a fool,’ Snape replied.
Draco remained unconvinced.
Lion and Serpent
Neville paused on the astronomy tower stairs. Malfoy was there again. Either he’d forgotten his concealment charms or felt he didn’t need them. Pale hands were pressed to a windowpane. He stared through it like a lost child waiting for a long-absent parent to come and take him home. Everything about it was sadly beautiful.
Neville wondered what Draco was thinking while he completed his rounds, looking out for Death Eater activity as well as searching for students out of bed and ushering them back to their dorms before Filch or the Death Eaters found them. Before Neville’s shift ended he realised something had changed.
He no longer hated Draco Malfoy.
*~~~*
‘From now on, that route’s mine.’
‘In case your boyfriend’s there?’ Seamus teased. Lavender’s smile echoed this sentiment.
‘Which of us is Malfoy more likely to hand over to the Carrows?’ Neville pointed to Lavender, Seamus and then Dean. ‘Pureblood, half-blood or Muggle-born?’
‘It won’t be Mudblood me,’ Dean insisted. ‘I’m leaving before Umbridge puts me on her register and takes my wand away.’
‘Where’re you going,’ demanded Seamus, ‘and who with? You can’t avoid them Snatchers on your own.’
‘Ted Tonks has said any Muggle-borns in the DA can hide with him. It’s all arranged.’
‘Listen to Neville talking like he’s M and Dean’s James Bond!’
Dean grinned at Seamus. Neville and Lavender looked to each other for an explanation and shrugged. It must be a Muggle thing.
‘He can’t stay here Seamus.’ Lavender offered her hand and Seamus accepted it.
‘How much worse can this get?’ Seamus asked his friends. Lavender huddled against him and began to sob.
*~~~*
Dark Arts swiftly became Draco’s least favourite subject. Who could have predicted a time when he’d hate being brought forward in class because he was best in year? Amycus Carrow commanded him to demonstrate the Cruciatus curse on a random Gryffindor - except the victim chosen was anything but random. Draco kept his eyes on Longbottom and raised his wand.
‘Crucio!’
Amycus became a screaming bundle of pain on the floor. Draco withdrew the curse.
‘Sorry Professor. Since there’s no glory in hunting unguarded flobberworms I assumed you were going to demonstrate how to block it first.’
Amycus hastened to his feet and pointed his wand at Draco’s throat in a threatening manner. Draco kept his fraudulent smile of apology in place. Several Death Eaters had seen his mother hex Fenrir Greyback for joking about having ‘a little nibble’ on Draco for the Christmas holiday. Acidic boils formed on sensitive areas of the werewolf’s body, corroding several layers of skin as each popped. It was rumoured that the Dark Lord refused access to an antidote until one of Greyback’s nuts fell out. Draco’s smile became genuine at the thought. The alleged teacher stepped back, fear clear in his eyes.
The Slytherin witches fawned all over Draco the moment class was dismissed. Crabbe and Goyle stepped back into line behind him. Finnigan and Brown seconded the Patil twin’s opinion that he was a demented prick due for a kharmic kick in the arse. Nott and Zabini gave him a week of hell over showing off while chivalrously protecting Longbottom but Draco didn’t care about any of that.
The terse, solemn nod of acknowledgement from the intended victim was all that mattered.
*~~~*
There he was, standing by the largest window of the astronomy tower, alone. Neville approached silently, carefully wrapped both arms around Draco’s waist, and softly said ‘Hello’ while leaning forward to kiss the side of his neck. Draco calmly twisted away.
‘Don’t expect me to jump in fright. I saw your reflection.’
‘You were meant to.’ Neville succeeded in pressing his lips to pale skin and was surprised by the chill.
‘Stop it. I’ll only use, betray and destroy you, anything to be free.’ Draco’s voice was colder than his body.
‘Anything, even helping us?’ Neville asked sombrely. He eased the embrace without breaking it.
‘Haven’t you been paying attention in Dark Arts? I may have been incapable of murder seven months ago but the Dark Lord ensured that’s no longer true.’
‘You had no choice.’
‘There’s always a choice.’ Draco’s rigid posture added extra depth to the words.
‘Good answer.’ And not one Neville expected. ‘But we can’t always see that at the time.’
‘Guide me wise one.’ Draco’s teasing drawl was paired with a glittering smirk.
Neville pinched him. Then they seamlessly fit together. Neville tried to focus on speaking instead of what may be forming between them. It couldn’t be serious. They had years of mutual animosity and a war to get through before that could happen. ‘All I’ve learned after six years in History of Magic is that most people we’re forced to read about didn’t know which choice was the right one until they made the wrong one, so you’re hardly alone.’
Draco stared at Neville’s reflection so intently that Neville looked down and began stepping back. Draco’s hands snapped closed on Neville’s forearms. Neville looked up as Draco turned his head to see him directly.
‘Longbottom,’ he began with trepidation. Neville waited. His heart beat a slow, ominous crescendo as Draco remained silent. Then he tilted his head, hesitantly leaned closer…
*~~~*
... Neville leaned forward, meeting him halfway to complete the kiss.
This was no sensual oral offensive like last time, the first time. It was no placebo. They cautiously sampled each other’s lips, testing for responsiveness before adding pressure. The gradual build up to a full-blown snog left them both bright eyed and breathless. Draco turned in Neville’s arms. His relief was indescribable when Neville brought their lips together again, without hesitation. Hands stayed outside clothing. There was no intentional contact below the waist.
Perfect.
‘What’s going on between us?’ Draco asked. Their noses were still touching. He opened his eyes and saw that Neville’s remained closed.
‘I don’t know,’ Neville admitted.
‘Do you want it to stop?’
Neville opened his eyes as Draco asked. It took three breaths for him to make up his mind. ‘No. Do you?’
‘No.’
They shared a languid parting kiss that was also a promise.
Draco absentmindedly wandered through the castle to the Slytherin dormitory. He got lost more than once. Professor Flitwick found him somewhere and fretted over him, fearing a student had been inflicted with the Imperius curse.
‘No I haven’t,’ Draco snapped, pissed off by the insinuation that he was weak-minded enough to be susceptible. ‘As though you’d care if I had been. You’re more likely to accuse me of casting it and toss me straight into Azkaban. It’s only because Snape’s headmaster that any of you tolerate me in your classes or let me walk through the halls without a massive warning bell around my neck. I know what you all think of me. I’m not stupid. I’m not,’ he normally would have said Longbottom but he couldn’t anymore, ‘Crabbe!’
‘Since you have no reason for being out of bed after curfew you can serve detention as determined by Professor Slughorn. Every student of Hogwarts is under our care, Mr Malfoy, regardless of private opinions. Grindelwald could become headmaster and that would not change.’ Flitwick escorted Draco to Slughorn’s plush office without further debate.
Sluggy was not impressed about being woken up and rather taken aback by the reason. ‘Off to bed Draco. You and I can discuss this in the morning.’ He looked as eager to have that conversation as Draco.
Flitwick spoke quietly to the Slytherin Head of House. Draco overheard very little as he loitered outside the door. Potential, unfocussed, concern, disappointment and relief were standouts. Their voices became clearer as Slughorn walked Flitwick to the door.
‘…much like You-Know-Who in that respect. I had the misfortune of being his potions master, as I’m sure you know by now. The main difference of course is that this one has a heart, cold though it may be.’
‘Perhaps not as cold as we suspected, Horace. Lovesickness can be very similar to the Imperius. I may have been too hasty.’
‘We can only hope. At least he’s not as idiotic with it as James Potter over Lily Evans. Not even his friends thought Lily would…’
Draco lost interest at that point and went to bed.
*~~~*
'What happened to you?’ Seamus demanded in a whisper as Neville entered their dorm. Any sound seemed loud now they were the only two sleeping here. ‘You should have been back to send Lavender out almost an hour ago.’
‘I needed to think for a bit.’ Neville changed school uniform for pyjamas then sat in the middle of his bed. He blinked and covered his eyes because Seamus turned on the light without warning.
‘Are you alright? Did Malfoy do something to you?’ Seamus asked with concern.
Neville looked at him and hoped his confusion shone through. ‘He warned me off, said he’d do anything to be free, I asked if he’d be willing to spy for us, we talked, then we kissed, and then, I think he asked me out.’
‘Do you think you said yes?’
Neville nodded.
‘Did he agree to turn traitor?’
Neville thought. ‘No. He just kissed me.’ He brought his knees up under his chin and circled his arms around his shins. He felt a smile begin.
‘That good, hey?’ Seamus teased mildly.
The smile flourished as Neville nodded. ‘He’s changing.’
‘For your sake I bloody well hope so.’
‘You should hope so for all our sakes, Seamus. He’s still dangerous.’
‘Jesus Neville, why Malfoy?’ Seamus asked in a tone that bordered on insulting.
‘We don’t know,’ Neville admitted.
Friendly silence was all the support Seamus could offer so he stayed awake until Neville felt ready to get under the blankets and try sleeping.
*~~~* continue *~~~*
Author: shutupeccles
Claim: Drinking Game
Character(s) : Seamus, Neville, Draco, Blaise, Gryffindors, Slytherins & professors
Table/Prompt: March, # 10
Word Count: 27 619
Rating: R
Summary: Friends notice changes in the way Neville and Draco see each other, so start taking the piss. Some suggest using their attraction to glean information from the opposition. Others warn them to avoid getting involved at all, but temptation proves too much. An emotional alliance forms, only to be strangled by the lies woven to protect it. Will they ever know the truth?
Lions
Seamus Finnigan gathered all the non-Slytherin Seventh Years into one compartment of the Hogwarts Express. ‘In memory of Mad-eye Moody I propose we start the school year with a drinking game.’ He handed everyone a flask modelled after Mad-eye’s famous hip-flask. ‘Fill it with whatever you like. The rule is simple: every time Draco Malfoy boasts or uses the phrase “my father” we take a drink.’
‘We’ll be smashed before the Express arrives!’ Lavender Brown declared.
Seamus raised his flask in mock toast. ‘That is precisely the plan.’
‘Trust you to come up with something like this, Finnigan,’ said Parvati Patil. Her twin sister Padme nodded with a smile.
‘Because I’m Irish I suppose,’ Seamus said in a quarrelsome tone.
‘Because you’re a cheeky shit,’ Terry Boot insisted.
Neville grinned at Seamus. The entire compartment followed suit. This was going to be brilliant.
*~~~*
There was widespread disappointment when they made it through the start-of-term feast and breakfast without using their hip flasks once.
‘The poncing git must realise nobody gives a toss about him and his Death Eater daddy now You-Know-Who’s out in the open,’ Sally-Anne Perks whispered to Hannah Abbott during compulsory Muggle Studies. She was mistaken. Hogwarts without Draco Malfoy seeking fame and dominion was like Gryffindor boys’ dorm without Ron and Harry-wrong. Instinct ensured Neville very much gave a toss.
‘Silencio!’ shrieked Alecto Carrow. The spell muted Sally-Anne’s voice. ‘Keep your Mudbloody mouth shut while I am teaching.’
Neville’s hand moved to his wand and stayed there throughout the lesson. Sally-Anne and Hannah may have ignored Neville or giggled at his misfortunes before he featured in the Daily Prophet for accompanying Harry to the Department of Mysteries, but he wasn’t about to let this Death Eater hag treat students like Flobberworms.
*~~~*
‘New rule,’ Seamus said as he sat on his bed to remove his socks. ‘Any time Malfoy says something insulting to Neville, we take a swig.’
‘We’ll be blind all year,’ Dean Thomas crowed.
‘Thanks guys, great,’ Neville grumbled.
‘Come on Nev. He’s had it in for you since our first trip on the Express thanks to Trevor jumping up his leg.’ Dean didn’t need to remind him.
‘Nah, I reckon it was Neville jumping on after to get him that did the real damage. How high did Trevor get before Malfoy started screaming?’ Seamus asked with a grin before imitating a flailing eleven year old. “Ah, ah!”
Dean laughed. ‘What was it you said to that Prefect? “I was only trying to get him off!”’ Dean and Seamus laughed harder than the familiar routine warranted. Neville flushed a deeper maroon than the stripes on their Gryffindor ties.
‘Did Ron and Harry take your sense of humour with them?’ Seamus asked Neville.
‘I’ve had six years of Malfoy’s goons keeping score of embarrassing stuff like that. I don’t need our whole class doing it.’
‘Fair enough,’ Seamus apologised. ‘Final amendment to the game: Whenever he asks Crabbe and Goyle if they’re thick or what, how’s that?’ he asked.
‘Why do all your ideas revolve around Draco Malfoy?’ Neville wanted to know. Dean subtly nodded along.
‘Because only two things are certain: Potter’s going to find trouble, and Malfoy’s going to be a dick.’
Dean and Neville chuckled at Seamus’ stern pronouncement. The three friends settled into bed and began bagging out their new ‘professors’. Maybe this year wouldn’t be as horrid as Neville dreaded.
*~~~*
The only classes Gryffindor shared with Slytherin were Dark Arts and Potions. Ravenclaw were with them for Muggle Studies and four other subjects, Hufflepuff for the remaining three. There were no electives and no free periods.
‘None of us are going to pass N.E.W.T.’ Justin Finch-Fletchely complained to Terry Boot as they left Slughorn’s classroom.
‘There won’t be any N.E.W.T. you dimwit,’ Malfoy snapped on his way in. ‘Most of the examiners are dead or in hiding.’
‘How do you know?’ Padme Patil asked.
‘The Dark Lord’s living at Draco’s House,’ Crabbe boasted.
Malfoy glared at him. ‘Imbecile,’ he declared.
There was a bustle as the non-Slytherins around them sipped from their Mad-Eye commemorative flasks.
‘Who they gonna tell Draco, the Ministry?’ Crabbe asked as Draco stared curiously at the commotion.
‘We are the Ministry.’ Sophie Roper freed the Slytherin tie from her robes with feigned nonchalance and her finger casually reached for Draco’s wrist.
His eyes met Neville’s as his hand subtly sought refuge in a robe pocket. Then he shoved past Neville to claim the best Potions table.
‘What did Roper mean?’ Dean asked in a whisper as he and Seamus joined Neville at the table furthest from Slughorn’s desk.
‘Is she Malfoy’s bitch?’ Seamus asked with less subtlety.
Neville’s book slipped from his hands and landed on the bench with a slap. Draco turned at the sound, looked up, observed Neville’s pink cheeks, and added his usual sneer as their eyes met again. Neville immediately looked down.
‘Her grandfather was one of the original Death Eaters,’ Neville told Dean and Seamus in a low voice. He’d done a lot of research since Professor Moody turned out to be a Death Eater and knew the elder Bartemius Crouch used all three Unforgiveable Curses on members of Sophie’s family during the hunt for those who tortured Neville’s parents. ‘Gran told me,’ he lied. He didn’t want anyone knowing details of his personal history. It was bad enough that Malfoy knew and whispered Neville’s secrets back to him in Fifth Year, hoping Neville would break and betray the D.A. The comments changed, becoming more personal and intimate like the way Draco grabbed him, until one night they’d made out.
‘Think this will convince me to talk?’ Neville asked after coming in Draco’s hand.
‘If not, I’ll have to fuck the information out of you,’ Draco threatened seductively. His lips teased Neville’s, brushing over them lightly until he couldn’t suppress his own climax any longer. Their mouths crushed together before approaching footsteps scared them apart. ‘Nearly distracted me, Gryffindor slut,’ Draco said while drawing his wand and pushing Neville away from the wall.
‘Whose hand was down whose pants?’ Neville asked in protest.
Draco said nothing else as he hauled Neville to Umbridge’s office, but his hand slid from Neville’s elbow until their fingers linked. The way Draco restrained him during Umbridge’s interrogation was erotic and they subtly moved against each other. No-one paid them any attention and Draco bit his neck between whispering maliciously arousing drabbles. ‘Can I pull your hair like this while I come in your arse? Would you like that? Fuck you against a window.’
Neville hissed ‘Yes’ without moving his lips. Keeping his eyes closed helped control his trouser snake but meant he missed the Bat-Bogey Hex Ginny aimed at Draco. Neville squeezed Draco’s hand before escaping with the others and following Harry to the Ministry.
Nothing had been said or done about it since. Neville chalked it up as another lost opportunity and tried to follow Slughorn’s instructions without burning the school down. The Genesis Potion was best used for separating mixtures and compounds into their original components, but had disastrous effects on processed organic material. Each student was given protective gloves, shoe and robe covers as Sluggy described the time Peter Pettigrew’s leather shoes tried returning to their bovine state while he was still wearing them.
‘The Impervious Charm is applied to every surface of the senior dungeon on a daily basis, as spills occur even at a professional level, so don’t be alarmed. Gregory Goyle, dispose of whatever is in your mouth this instant. Most unhygienic! As I was saying…’ Sluggy waddled throughout the room peering at preparations as he chattered on.
Dean looked sideways at Neville and Seamus’ tragic concoctions and moved his cauldron to Lavender Brown’s table. Seamus complained at this betrayal. Neville let his potion boil dry as he avidly stared at Draco’s back, thinking he would like to dig all ten fingers into it while they...
‘Put that flame out Longbottom,’ Slughorn cried urgently and bounded across the dungeon.
‘Against a window?’ Neville lazily asked his daydream.
Professor and students stared at him as though he’d become Luna Lovegood. All except Draco, who dropped the flask he’d been filling onto the floor. The magically reinforced glass did not shatter but some of the Genesis Potion bounced out on impact. A single splash hit the wad of gum Goyle pressed under the desk and it began to writhe, unnoticed, until it whinnied.
Draco slapped Goyle’s thick head. ‘You dolt! Why didn’t you swallow?’
‘Was that a horse?’ Lavender Brown asked before anyone could remember the drinking game or turn Draco’s question into lewd conjecture. ‘Bubble gum’s made of HORSE?’ She began to retch.
Sophie Roper and Millicent Bulstrode joined in. Slughorn evacuated the classroom to prevent more pupils becoming distressed. The Gryffindor common room was soon full of laughter inducing impressions of Lavender and Roper freaking out, Roper cosying up to Malfoy and his retreat, Malfoy and Goyle, or Malfoy saying the same thing to Roper after hearing he’d gotten her pregnant.
Neville tried not to care that Draco deliberately looked him in the eye, twice, that the cruel sneer left the curiosity in Draco’s eyes untouched, or that his reaction to the mindless window reference meant he also remembered.
Seamus clicked the fingers of both hands directly in front of Neville’s nose. ‘Ay, you inhale cauldron fumes or what?’ he asked as Neville blinked rapidly. ‘Come on, the lanky git called the fat idiot a dolt. It may not be as fun drinkin’ t’ that in here instead of in front of the beggars, but could y’ at least join in? Boot suggested makin’ it each time Malfoy insults anybody but that might make it too obvious.’
‘Obvious is good,’ Dean said in support of this latest adjustment. ‘We can start a betting pool on how long it takes him to figure it out and use the takings to buy something for Susan Bones.’
Lavender and Parvati thought that was a brilliant idea. Neville agreed, but only because Susan deserved a gift from friends at Hogwarts. He couldn’t help thinking this game would further divide the Houses and make it impossible to get into Draco’s pants.
*~~~*
Silver flasks upended in a wave rippling away from the Slytherin table as Malfoy badmouthed several students during dinner. Students in the years below watched their seniors with intense curiosity each time the behaviour was repeated.
‘What’s that about?’ Colin Creevey asked.
‘Seventh Year ritual,’ Parvati replied.
‘None of the previous years have done it.’
‘Ah, but there wasn’t a Slytherin Headmaster then, was there?’ Seamus said with a wink. Lavender giggled so Seamus winked again and added a broad, flirty smile for her benefit. Lavender blushed. Dean nudged Neville.
‘Interesting development,’ Dean murmured. Neville agreed by raising his eyebrows.
Whispering began at the Slytherin table as the routine continued over breakfast and in morning classes. Neville made the contact of his lips against the mouth of the flask as suggestive as possible when curious grey eyes met his. Draco’s gaze narrowed shrewdly during Dark Arts after lunch. He delivered his sharpest Neville insult to date as they left the classroom and followed it with a small, smug smile. The game could be over just as it started to get interesting.
It came to an end a day later when the eight Ravenclaws were treated for alcoholic poisoning after vomiting in herbology, prompting Headmaster Snape to admonish the year group in front of the entire school.
‘Immature, irresponsible, and utterly worthless, adjectives that apply to the students involved as well as their actions. Accio flasks!’ One eyebrow disappeared beneath his lank, black fringe as twenty four Mad-Eye Moody commemorative hip-flasks landed neatly at his feet. ‘Well, well. Of thirty four senior students, only ten have enough sense to not participate in this frivolity.’ Snape glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. ‘Or perhaps they were deliberately excluded and this game is more sinister than first appears. Seventh Years of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor will serve detention every Saturday afternoon until the instigator comes forward.’
No-one spoke, raised a hand, or stepped away from Seamus.
‘Very well,’ Snape said in a voice colder than a Dementor’s breath and nodded for the Heads of House to issue further punishment as they saw fit. Points were deducted and eloquent reprimands delivered in the privacy of each common room.
‘If this nonsense began with Gryffindor House then heads will roll,’ Professor McGonagall assured them. ‘This form of tribute was more suited to James Potter and Sirius Black than Alastor Moody.’ Seamus was dubbed a hero once she left the room.
*~~~*
Neville whistled as he washed his hands in the senior boys’ bathroom, sucking the sound in instead of blowing it out as a cubicle opened behind him. He could see Draco’s wand aimed at his back thanks to the mirror and spun around.
‘Fun little game that, Longbottom, but a bit clever for you. Did grannie get you a brain for your birthday?’
‘Shame you didn’t get the personality I sent for yours,’ Neville retorted. ‘Aren’t you going to grab me by the hair and jab your wand at my throat?’
‘Distance prevents spells rebounding. Surely the Chosen One taught you that. Or perhaps the DA was more about gang-banging Mudbloods than…’ Draco smoothly deflected Neville’s jinx then delivered a non-verbal hex. Seamus walked in before the duel escalated to curses. Draco and Neville lowered their wands as though they’d been caught exchanging intimate pleasantries rather than harmful spells. Seamus kept his eyes on them, and they on him, as he entered a cubicle and locked the door.
Neville turned back to the running tap. He wasn’t quite willing to break the tension they’d created. Neither was Draco. He pressed against Neville’s back.
‘Get your fat arse out of the way, Big-bottom. I need to wash my hands.’
Neville wiggled a bit to stop his privates being crushed against the sink and looked toward three more basins. Draco caused a crack in two with a negligent wave of his wand. The one adjacent to theirs almost exploded. Neville’s shield charm was strong enough to protect them both from being blinded by ceramic dust.
‘Developed reflexes, too? Someone’s finally living up to their pureblood potential.’ Draco moved his hands under the water while his words tickled past Neville’s ear.
The warmth of Draco’s body against his back was familiar and ignited a number of fantasies normally reserved for night time, or the shower. It didn’t stop Neville glowering at him through their reflections. Their hatefully horny stare was broken by the lavatory flushing behind them and their eyes snapped up to lock onto Seamus.
‘Jay-zuss Christ,’ he declared. ‘Can’t you two stop flirting long enough for a fella to poop in peace? And do y’ have to make such an almighty mess while doing it?’ Seamus exclaimed as he saw the obliterated basin and left without washing his hands.
‘Filthy half-blood,’ Draco muttered. He blew Neville’s reflection a sarcastic kiss and smacked his bum before walking out of the bathroom. Neville took a moment to regain his composure but it wasn’t enough. He ducked back into a cubicle for a wank.
*~~~*
‘You’ve got to have noticed! He couldn’t keep his hands off you at the end of Fifth Year, could he Dean?’ Seamus sought verification of his ‘flirting’ comment while the three remaining Gryffindors lay in their dormitory beds.
‘It’s only b’cause I’m pureblood,’ Neville protested sleepily. ‘Otherwise I’m as hideous as Muggles in his opinion. I can’t stand him either. It’s just… I dunno what it is.’
‘He’d be after information on Harry,’ said Dean.
Seamus only partly agreed. ‘It’s more than that. The more Neville rebels, the more Malfoy wants to get it into him.’
‘Has it in for him, you mean?’ Dean asked.
‘I meant precisely what I said.’
‘It isn’t funny,’ Neville protested.
‘Yeah, it is.’ Seamus didn’t laugh, but Neville could almost hear him grin. ‘You should let him think you’re properly interested, pretend to give him important information, and get him to spy for you instead.’
‘Don’t do it Neville. That would only make you as bad as he is.’
‘No-one’s as bad as that prick.’
‘Then why didn’t he kill Dumbledore?’ Neville asked quietly. It was a greater mystery than Slytherin’s secret chamber. No-one had a clue.
*~~~*
With Hogsmeade trips cancelled, the inter house quidditch matches were the only thing non-Slytherin students had to look forward to, unless their team played against Slytherin.
‘It’d be a different matter if Harry was still our seeker,’ Seamus said the day after Gryffindor were creamed 750-50.
‘Oh please!’ Ginny sat on the floor reading the latest edition of The Quibbler. ‘Last year you were complaining that he only put my relatives and Hermione’s boyfriends on the team.’
‘And your boyfriends,’ Lavender teased from the fireplace. She nudged Dean with a freshly painted toe because he had been dating Ginny while filling in for Katie Bell. Ginny and Dean laughed it off. Last year’s animosities were forgotten now Death Eaters ruled the ministry and Hogwarts.
‘The Slytherins are out training, again!’ Colin Creevey complained from a common room window.
‘Not all of them,’ Seamus said and kicked the bottom of Neville’s shoe. ‘The big show off’s not even on the team.’
‘Eh?’ He’d been drifting off for a nanna-nap. Seamus tilted his head to the window. Neville turned in his chair in time to see a broomstick zoom into the sky like a firework. Instead of exploding when it reached maximum height, the flyer crossed his legs under the broom, let go of the handle, extended both arms level with his shoulders, slowly arched backwards and then brought his knees up to his chest so the broom flipped and streaked toward the ground. ‘Fuck.’ Neville bounded out of the chair and pressed his face against the window pane. ‘Pull up, pull up, pull up!’ he chanted urgently and several people rushed to look.
‘Holy shit, he’s actually as good as he thinks he is!’ Seamus exclaimed as Draco gripped the broom handle, spun on its axis and caused ripples in the grass as he shot back into the sky to do it again.
Dean passed Neville a set of omnoculars. Once he got the zoom right he could see the tension leave Draco’s features as he closed his eyes and let go… In that moment he was completely free. Neville inhaled a heavy lungful of awe and wished he wasn’t such a hopeless flyer. Ginny was the only person still watching by the time Draco finished and Neville turned away to give Dean’s omnoculars back. She wasn’t looking out the window.
‘You’re worth fifty of him, Neville. Until he realises that you should look elsewhere.’
Neville stared at the omnoculars in his hands. He thought about the heated exchange in the boys’ washroom and minor, everyday encounters since term began. ‘Maybe he already has.’ Neville handed the omnoculars to Ginny. She looked at him curiously instead of arguing and suggested heading down to dinner.
Serpents
DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY - STILL RECRUITING
The writing on the Hogwarts wall caused something to writhe like a clutch of salamanders within Draco’s soul. He didn’t want to cross over into enemy territory. They fought for Muggle and Mudblood freedom when witches and wizards were the ones living in captivity. The Dark Lord’s leadership was increasingly questionable but the original principles were sound. Why couldn’t Potter and Longbottom see that? Disenchanted Death Eaters would flock to the pureblood and his Friend Who Lived if they supported the true cause. Draco could not instigate the necessary revolution. He’d alienated both sides in the astronomy tower.
*~~~*
Blaise Zabini’s mother invented the party game during the Seventies. It helped her seduce four wealthy but otherwise ill-fated husbands, including Blaise’s father.
‘There are three central components,’ Blaise explained while pointing to a blank square of parchment, a row of sand timers, and the spinning arrow between them. ‘We place our right index finger on a timer and the game enters our names around the spinner before choosing whose turn it is. There is no set order. Players are completely at its mercy. Instructions appear on the parchment. The spinner points to the person who will help you fulfil that task. If it points to your name when it’s your turn then you do it alone. Each timer allows between one and six minutes per turn. An alcoholic drink appears on top of a timer when that player’s turn is over. If you succeed in following the instructions or answer any questions put to you honestly, the drink tastes nice. Fail or lie, and the drink will taste foul.’
‘How complicated are these instructions?’ Millicent Bulstrode asked.
‘Between one and six words.’
Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe immediately agreed to play. The five Slytherin girls stared at Theodore Nott and Draco, as though using the Imperius curse to make them join in.
‘Nott?’ Blaise asked. ‘Malfoy won’t play unless you do and the girls won’t play without him.’
Draco’s finger immediately found a timer before Nott said no, which he would. Nott always avoided schoolyard politics and capers and Draco would prefer if he didn’t play. Merlin only knew which female banshee Theodore would end up snogging-or worse, knowing Mrs Zabini. Draco’s ego carried a bruise from trying to kiss Nott after the Yule Ball. Blaise knew about Draco’s crush but not that he acted on it. Crabbe, Goyle, and the Slytherin girls were oblivious to Draco’s preference-his male associates because they were thick, the witches because they were too busy fighting each other to get into his or Nott’s pureblood pants. Luckily this meant the Longbottom obsession escaped their notice.
The first few turns were innocent frivolity. Draco’s Dark Mark began to tingle just as Sophie and Daphne were swapping blouses.
‘Where are you going?’ Pansy, Sophie and Blaise asked as he stood abruptly.
‘Duty calls.’ He showed them the darkening brand on his forearm. Parkinson just about creamed her pleated skirt. He didn’t bother telling them it was only Snape calling. It burned like a dying phoenix when the Dark Lord summoned him. Alecto and Amycus Carrow were also heading to the headmaster’s office. Draco couldn’t stand either of them. Instead of teaching students how to overthrow Muggles in her Muggle Studies lessons, Alecto spent all her time bitching about them. Some of her insults were amusing but Draco would prefer a practical approach. He already knew half of what Amycus taught in Dark Arts, thanks to Aunt Bella. Draco had given up any remaining hope that Crabbe and Goyle would develop a brain between them after meeting the Carrows. Knowing the moronic siblings were branded as he was made the Dark Mark far less honourable.
Snape spoke as soon as the school-based Death Eaters arrived. ‘A furore at the ministry offices has been attributed to Potter and friends. A number of Muggleborns and half-bloods have escaped directly under Dolores Umbridge’s powdered nose. Granger was followed to number twelve Grimmauld Place, from which she immediately apparated. Bellatrix and Narcissa have been assigned to interrogate the house-elf, Kreacher, as the property once belonged to their blood-traitor cousin. Kreacher has yet to be found. It is possible, although highly unlikely, that Potter will seek refuge with another school acquaintance. Should he arrive at Hogwarts,’ Snape paused, ‘he is to be detained only. The pleasure of killing him is reserved for the Dark Lord. Disobedience in this matter will incur Unforgivable consequences. That is all.’
Draco wasted no time returning to the dorm, if only to avoid being drawn into conversation with the Carrows. Nott didn’t bother closing his book as enquiring eyes turned Draco’s way.
‘Potter’s been spotted. We’ve been instructed to stun or body-bind if he shows his specky face.’
‘Then what?’ Goyle asked.
‘Then He’ll come, won’t he?’ Pansy asked with breathy reverence.
Draco doubted she’d be so enthusiastic if she’d ever met the abomination. Being Slytherin’s final heir didn’t erase the paternal mud from its veins. Nott knew because his grandfather went to school with the boy who became Lord Voldemort. Perhaps Nott had been laying bait to see what Draco would do with the supposed confidence. He couldn’t trust anyone or reveal that he did not trust them, so he immediately joined the game that was still in progress. ‘Whose turn is it?’
‘But…’ Pansy wanted to speculate about things Draco would rather ignore for now.
‘I’m not going to sit around waiting for Potter to make a scene when I could be getting pissed.’ He shrugged casually as the game board decided who to embarrass next. ‘Where’d Bulstrode and Crabbe go?’
Pansy and Daphne chortled into their hands. ‘Mil’s task was to finger herself for five minutes, Vincent’s was to lick her out for three, so they’re in the girls’ dorm combining the two,’ Pansy explained with devilish glee. ‘They’re probably fucking by now.’
Draco shuddered. ‘If this game spins up something that horrifying for me I’m transfiguring Zabini’s penis into a zucchini.’
‘Wand at the ready,’ Nott murmured as the timer beneath Blaise’s finger began to glow and the spinner pointed to Draco’s name. Draco laughed in Nott’s direction until the word kiss appeared on the parchment square. Nott raised an eyebrow in teasing amusement and Draco once more lamented his staunchly hetero habits. If Theodore returned his earlier interest then even this rebellious version of Longbottom would have remained a non-entity.
‘Let’s get this over with. How long do we have to snog before being blessed with alcohol?’
‘Doesn’t look like long,’ Daphne said as she leaned down to examine Blaise’s timer. ‘But it doesn’t begin counting down until you actually start.’
‘Ooh, my turn!’ Sophie said.
Blaise didn’t bother leading Draco far. They sat on the end of his bed with the curtains drawn. Blaise asked if they could stop yet after brief lip contact. Daphne called out to keep going. ‘We’ll let you know when to stop.’
‘You better,’ Blaise called back.
Draco soon discovered he didn’t mean it. Not if the way his mouth moved against Draco’s was a reliable indicator. It was surprisingly nice, being kissed with gently increasing enthusiasm. He and Longbottom pretty much ravaged each other in Fifth Year. Longbottom showed no hesitation when coming to the Weasley tart’s defence. His reaction had been instinctive and he’d quickly turned to defend himself when Draco joined the fray. They’d begun to duel properly, closing in on each other and then... Longbottom responded instead of pushing Draco away as expected, moaning yes and bringing them even closer when Draco touched him. Immediately after, in Umbridge’s office, surrounded by potential witnesses, they’d pretty much agreed to fuck.
Those memories combined with present actions saw the two friends soon wrapped around each other to exchange urgent, open-mouthed kisses.
‘Time’s up!’ One of the girls declared before Blaise and Draco began humping against each other.
Blaise kissed him once more. Draco pretended not to see the question in his expression and hurried off the bed. Crabbe and Bulstrode were still in the girls’ dorm. Goyle had just finished giving Parkinson a series of hickies. Blaise sombrely picked up his alcoholic drink as it appeared. The timer beneath Draco’s finger began to glow.
Answer one question from… The spinning arrow pointed to Daphne Greengrass. Her eyes narrowed rather meanly as she pondered her single question. He expected it to be about why he refused to kill Albus Dumbledore.
‘Who were you thinking of while making out with Blaise?’
‘What?’ Goyle asked, showing intelligence for the second time in his life.
‘Is that seriously the most pressing thought on your mind?’ Draco asked. Sophie and Pansy clearly thought it was also more important to know who Draco got off on rather than anything of actual significance. Blaise subtly glowered at Nott. Nott subtly ignored him. Draco decided to make the truth sound like a farcical lie. ‘Neville Longbottom,’ he replied with sarcastic aplomb then swallowed his drink in one shot. He grimaced and pretended to gag because it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. ‘Merlin's arsehole, is that bubotubor pus?’
Nott chortled in gentle counterpoint to the raucous laughter of their fellow senior Slytherins before Slughorn came upstairs to put an end to it.
*~~~*
Slytherin and Hufflepuff were kept back in Transfiguration because Vincent Crabbe decided to be a git. His attempt to transform McGonagall’s hat into a meat eating plant did not work and the old bat was as unimpressed by the sloppy spellwork as the attempt on her life.
‘Own up so we can get out of here,’ Draco muttered angrily.
‘Don’t listen to Malfoy, Crabbe. He can’t be trusted after that polyjuice stuff,’ Goyle grumbled bitterly.
‘Independent thought, from you? The world truly is coming to an end.’ Draco’s droll delivery earned half a smile from Nott that would have meant everything a year ago. Now Draco’s pants were filled with thoughts of that loser Longbottom.
‘It was Crabbe, Professor!’ Pansy Parkinson called out in an effort to gain Nott, Malfoy or Zabini’s respect. She clearly had no idea that Goyle was the only pureblood Slytherin who wanted her.
McGonagall finally let the Seventh Years go so her next class could begin. Draco lagged back to avoid Parkinson and Roper and found himself in the doorway with Longbottom. They just stood and stared for a moment before turning enough to sidle past each other but even that was enough to make breathing difficult. Draco tried emptying his mind in preparation for the next lesson but the thought of shamelessly grabbing Longbottom and doing him against the doorjamb made concentrating on anything else impossible.
*~~~*
Theodore Nott looked up from his novel once Crabbe and Goyle left the dorm then dropped the book and scooted to the end of his bed to address Draco. ‘Now the intelligence level of the room has risen above mountain troll, would you mind explaining the enormous air-boner between you and the blood traitor?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if those apes were behind it.’ Blaise nodded toward the door. ‘They aren’t precisely subtle at plotting against you. Whatever the cause, you should take full advantage of it.’
Draco and Theodore stared at Blaise. ‘What possible advantage can there be in having Longbottom lust after you?’ Theodore asked.
‘None, unless the Dark Lord visits your home on weekends and you’d like to do more than apologise for your family’s most recent mistake. Cosy up to Gryffindor’s buffoon in the occasional corridor and I guarantee he’ll tell you anything for an opportunity to get even closer.’
‘Blaise thinks he knows because his mother is the empress of manipulative sex. In this instance he’s wrong. Longbottom may lust after you, but he detests you all the same.’
‘He’s becoming more Draco’s type as the year goes by: notorious, influential, pureblood, dangerous, male. Add looks and Malfoy would probably be in love.’
‘Shove off Zabini. I can’t stand the Gryffindor toad.’
‘Who can? He’s got fewer friends than you.’
Draco felt the insult behind Blaise’s statement but pretended not to. He sat on the edge of his bed, facing Nott as Theodore continued to issue warnings. ‘Longbottom’s no longer the timid fool we all know and despised. Don’t underestimate him as an enemy.’
‘Draco’s noticed. Haven’t you seen the admiration in his groin at the blood traitor’s open defiance?’
Nott gazed blankly at Zabini. ‘We’ve already established that they’re hot for each other, thank you Blaise. Now we’re trying to solve that problem.’ While Nott didn’t speak as coldly to Draco, his tone remained far from friendly or affectionate. Theodore didn’t have close friends at school either, although his solitude was a choice he made in First Year and Draco’s was increasingly enforced. ‘Perhaps you should get off with one of those witches in your fan-club before they realise why you’re happy to flirt but constantly refuse serious advances. You can’t afford to lose their loyalty as well. Or try Blaise, he’ll do you in a heartbeat. It would probably be over that quickly, too.’
Blaise left the room without retaliating. Playing that drinking game of his mother’s proved he was attracted to Draco. There was no point arguing or denying it. That didn’t mean he had to listen to subsequent ridicule.
‘Longbottom and I hate each other. What’s the harm in one hard fuck to get it out of my system and leaving it at that?’ Draco asked Nott.
‘Because then he will have you properly by the balls. Also, Crabbe and Goyle will never come back to heel if you mess around with Neville Longbottom. May as well find a Mudblood! He’s figured out you’re nothing but a bully with legendary aspirations, knows you want him, and isn’t fighting for individual glory. Any information he did give you would be compromised. He will never be persuaded to join our side. …Or are you considering an alliance?’
‘Indeed I am, Theodore. We’re calling it Muggle-Lovers United. There’s a quidditch team and everything. You can be a member too, for thirty galleons. That’s why there’s no Weasleys.’
Nott smiled.
‘Why Longbottom of all people?’ Draco asked irritably.
‘That’s a question not even the Department of Mysteries can answer.’
*~~~*
This thing with Longbottom made less sense as the term progressed.
‘Integrity,’ Theodore theorised over pudding. ‘You have none. It stands to reason that you covet ours. Mystery solved.’
‘Thank you for that terse summation, Professor Nott.’
‘Sarcasm will get you nowhere.’
Draco had learned that everything he thought would get him anywhere was leading him straight to nowhere. The only direction available to him was down which was why he spent any spare sunlit time on his broom, soaring to extreme heights, plummeting to earth, so completely at liberty he never knew if he was going to aim for the sky again until the last moment. It was tempting to go splat. If he didn’t love the feel of travelling through the air at high speeds, relying on nothing but an enchanted piece of wood and his own wits, he’d forget everything else he loved about being alive. In the end only one thing kept him aloft-the thought of his mother’s despair if he didn’t. Being married to a Death Eater and believing in the importance of blood purity did not automatically make her a Death Eater, too. Mother had been devastated to the point of uncharacteristic wrath when Draco accepted the invitation to join their ranks, although she never showed anything but pride to his face. He remembered her arguing with Bellatrix over his recruitment and the reason for it.
“My son is my reason for living, Bella. May as well carve out my beating heart and feed it to that wretched snake. If you will not help me protect him then I shall find someone who will.”
*~~~*
He wandered the corridors late at night, usually to the astronomy tower but never reaching the top. Sometimes Snape intercepted him or hovered in the shadows. On the rarest of occasions, they talked.
‘I’m not up to anything this year. You don’t have to follow me.’
‘When Narcissa made me promise to protect you within an Unbreakable Vow, she did not specify from whom.’
‘Meaning history proves I’m mostly in danger from myself.’
‘Neither you nor Longbottom are as foolish nor cowardly as others believe.’
‘Don’t you start,’ Draco muttered sharply.
Snape repeated concealing charms as he slithered closer. ‘You are disappointed because this war is no longer the righteous struggle it should be. The Dark Lord allows many in his council to indulge petty grievances at the expense of their betters.’
‘Stop pandering to my ego, Headmaster.’
‘When Narcissa sought my assistance she deliberately placed herself between you and the Dark Lord.’ Snape paused to ensure Draco knew where his loyalties should lie. ‘Bellatrix has yet to use this information against her sister. I doubt she understands why.’
‘And you think I do?’
‘I believe you understand precisely what is at stake for the magical community whether the Dark Lord succeeds or fails. You see what older, jaded eyes refuse to recognise. Crabbe and Goyle are fools. They can only see what is smothered in cream cheese and dangled at the end of their noses.’
Draco laughed briefly, bluntly. He was the same little more than a year ago.
‘The difference, Draco, is that you have learned what the Dark Mark represents. Entering one form of slavery cannot free us from another.’
‘Treason,’ Draco declared. Snape could not be the ally he pretended to be.
‘Not treason, Draco - truth.’
‘Stop trying to trap me, encourage me to agree so you can tell the Dark Lord what a worm I am.’
‘My life would be forfeit beyond breaking the vow to protect you. Narcissa is more dangerous and vicious than Bellatrix.’ Snape smiled at Draco’s snort of disbelief. ‘Why is it you attend Hogwarts when Lucius would prefer you received magical instruction at Durmstrang? Why has your failure to kill Dumbledore gone unpunished? The Dark Lord makes you torture other Death Eaters who have failed him, or mentions Andromeda and Lupin to humiliate your family, but will not harm you directly. He fears the wrath of a devoted mother more than he feared Dumbledore.’
Draco repeated the centuries old adage. ‘The wand that rocks the cradle is the wand that rules the world.’
‘Indeed. Narcissa Malfoy is a formidable empress. Unfortunately, her loud and obnoxious sibling gets all the attention.’
Draco laughed. ‘I still don’t trust you,’ he insisted.
‘Because you are not a fool,’ Snape replied.
Draco remained unconvinced.
Lion and Serpent
Neville paused on the astronomy tower stairs. Malfoy was there again. Either he’d forgotten his concealment charms or felt he didn’t need them. Pale hands were pressed to a windowpane. He stared through it like a lost child waiting for a long-absent parent to come and take him home. Everything about it was sadly beautiful.
Neville wondered what Draco was thinking while he completed his rounds, looking out for Death Eater activity as well as searching for students out of bed and ushering them back to their dorms before Filch or the Death Eaters found them. Before Neville’s shift ended he realised something had changed.
He no longer hated Draco Malfoy.
*~~~*
‘From now on, that route’s mine.’
‘In case your boyfriend’s there?’ Seamus teased. Lavender’s smile echoed this sentiment.
‘Which of us is Malfoy more likely to hand over to the Carrows?’ Neville pointed to Lavender, Seamus and then Dean. ‘Pureblood, half-blood or Muggle-born?’
‘It won’t be Mudblood me,’ Dean insisted. ‘I’m leaving before Umbridge puts me on her register and takes my wand away.’
‘Where’re you going,’ demanded Seamus, ‘and who with? You can’t avoid them Snatchers on your own.’
‘Ted Tonks has said any Muggle-borns in the DA can hide with him. It’s all arranged.’
‘Listen to Neville talking like he’s M and Dean’s James Bond!’
Dean grinned at Seamus. Neville and Lavender looked to each other for an explanation and shrugged. It must be a Muggle thing.
‘He can’t stay here Seamus.’ Lavender offered her hand and Seamus accepted it.
‘How much worse can this get?’ Seamus asked his friends. Lavender huddled against him and began to sob.
*~~~*
Dark Arts swiftly became Draco’s least favourite subject. Who could have predicted a time when he’d hate being brought forward in class because he was best in year? Amycus Carrow commanded him to demonstrate the Cruciatus curse on a random Gryffindor - except the victim chosen was anything but random. Draco kept his eyes on Longbottom and raised his wand.
‘Crucio!’
Amycus became a screaming bundle of pain on the floor. Draco withdrew the curse.
‘Sorry Professor. Since there’s no glory in hunting unguarded flobberworms I assumed you were going to demonstrate how to block it first.’
Amycus hastened to his feet and pointed his wand at Draco’s throat in a threatening manner. Draco kept his fraudulent smile of apology in place. Several Death Eaters had seen his mother hex Fenrir Greyback for joking about having ‘a little nibble’ on Draco for the Christmas holiday. Acidic boils formed on sensitive areas of the werewolf’s body, corroding several layers of skin as each popped. It was rumoured that the Dark Lord refused access to an antidote until one of Greyback’s nuts fell out. Draco’s smile became genuine at the thought. The alleged teacher stepped back, fear clear in his eyes.
The Slytherin witches fawned all over Draco the moment class was dismissed. Crabbe and Goyle stepped back into line behind him. Finnigan and Brown seconded the Patil twin’s opinion that he was a demented prick due for a kharmic kick in the arse. Nott and Zabini gave him a week of hell over showing off while chivalrously protecting Longbottom but Draco didn’t care about any of that.
The terse, solemn nod of acknowledgement from the intended victim was all that mattered.
*~~~*
There he was, standing by the largest window of the astronomy tower, alone. Neville approached silently, carefully wrapped both arms around Draco’s waist, and softly said ‘Hello’ while leaning forward to kiss the side of his neck. Draco calmly twisted away.
‘Don’t expect me to jump in fright. I saw your reflection.’
‘You were meant to.’ Neville succeeded in pressing his lips to pale skin and was surprised by the chill.
‘Stop it. I’ll only use, betray and destroy you, anything to be free.’ Draco’s voice was colder than his body.
‘Anything, even helping us?’ Neville asked sombrely. He eased the embrace without breaking it.
‘Haven’t you been paying attention in Dark Arts? I may have been incapable of murder seven months ago but the Dark Lord ensured that’s no longer true.’
‘You had no choice.’
‘There’s always a choice.’ Draco’s rigid posture added extra depth to the words.
‘Good answer.’ And not one Neville expected. ‘But we can’t always see that at the time.’
‘Guide me wise one.’ Draco’s teasing drawl was paired with a glittering smirk.
Neville pinched him. Then they seamlessly fit together. Neville tried to focus on speaking instead of what may be forming between them. It couldn’t be serious. They had years of mutual animosity and a war to get through before that could happen. ‘All I’ve learned after six years in History of Magic is that most people we’re forced to read about didn’t know which choice was the right one until they made the wrong one, so you’re hardly alone.’
Draco stared at Neville’s reflection so intently that Neville looked down and began stepping back. Draco’s hands snapped closed on Neville’s forearms. Neville looked up as Draco turned his head to see him directly.
‘Longbottom,’ he began with trepidation. Neville waited. His heart beat a slow, ominous crescendo as Draco remained silent. Then he tilted his head, hesitantly leaned closer…
*~~~*
... Neville leaned forward, meeting him halfway to complete the kiss.
This was no sensual oral offensive like last time, the first time. It was no placebo. They cautiously sampled each other’s lips, testing for responsiveness before adding pressure. The gradual build up to a full-blown snog left them both bright eyed and breathless. Draco turned in Neville’s arms. His relief was indescribable when Neville brought their lips together again, without hesitation. Hands stayed outside clothing. There was no intentional contact below the waist.
Perfect.
‘What’s going on between us?’ Draco asked. Their noses were still touching. He opened his eyes and saw that Neville’s remained closed.
‘I don’t know,’ Neville admitted.
‘Do you want it to stop?’
Neville opened his eyes as Draco asked. It took three breaths for him to make up his mind. ‘No. Do you?’
‘No.’
They shared a languid parting kiss that was also a promise.
Draco absentmindedly wandered through the castle to the Slytherin dormitory. He got lost more than once. Professor Flitwick found him somewhere and fretted over him, fearing a student had been inflicted with the Imperius curse.
‘No I haven’t,’ Draco snapped, pissed off by the insinuation that he was weak-minded enough to be susceptible. ‘As though you’d care if I had been. You’re more likely to accuse me of casting it and toss me straight into Azkaban. It’s only because Snape’s headmaster that any of you tolerate me in your classes or let me walk through the halls without a massive warning bell around my neck. I know what you all think of me. I’m not stupid. I’m not,’ he normally would have said Longbottom but he couldn’t anymore, ‘Crabbe!’
‘Since you have no reason for being out of bed after curfew you can serve detention as determined by Professor Slughorn. Every student of Hogwarts is under our care, Mr Malfoy, regardless of private opinions. Grindelwald could become headmaster and that would not change.’ Flitwick escorted Draco to Slughorn’s plush office without further debate.
Sluggy was not impressed about being woken up and rather taken aback by the reason. ‘Off to bed Draco. You and I can discuss this in the morning.’ He looked as eager to have that conversation as Draco.
Flitwick spoke quietly to the Slytherin Head of House. Draco overheard very little as he loitered outside the door. Potential, unfocussed, concern, disappointment and relief were standouts. Their voices became clearer as Slughorn walked Flitwick to the door.
‘…much like You-Know-Who in that respect. I had the misfortune of being his potions master, as I’m sure you know by now. The main difference of course is that this one has a heart, cold though it may be.’
‘Perhaps not as cold as we suspected, Horace. Lovesickness can be very similar to the Imperius. I may have been too hasty.’
‘We can only hope. At least he’s not as idiotic with it as James Potter over Lily Evans. Not even his friends thought Lily would…’
Draco lost interest at that point and went to bed.
*~~~*
'What happened to you?’ Seamus demanded in a whisper as Neville entered their dorm. Any sound seemed loud now they were the only two sleeping here. ‘You should have been back to send Lavender out almost an hour ago.’
‘I needed to think for a bit.’ Neville changed school uniform for pyjamas then sat in the middle of his bed. He blinked and covered his eyes because Seamus turned on the light without warning.
‘Are you alright? Did Malfoy do something to you?’ Seamus asked with concern.
Neville looked at him and hoped his confusion shone through. ‘He warned me off, said he’d do anything to be free, I asked if he’d be willing to spy for us, we talked, then we kissed, and then, I think he asked me out.’
‘Do you think you said yes?’
Neville nodded.
‘Did he agree to turn traitor?’
Neville thought. ‘No. He just kissed me.’ He brought his knees up under his chin and circled his arms around his shins. He felt a smile begin.
‘That good, hey?’ Seamus teased mildly.
The smile flourished as Neville nodded. ‘He’s changing.’
‘For your sake I bloody well hope so.’
‘You should hope so for all our sakes, Seamus. He’s still dangerous.’
‘Jesus Neville, why Malfoy?’ Seamus asked in a tone that bordered on insulting.
‘We don’t know,’ Neville admitted.
Friendly silence was all the support Seamus could offer so he stayed awake until Neville felt ready to get under the blankets and try sleeping.
*~~~* continue *~~~*