FIC: Happy Christmas, Nev [Draco/Neville - 1400 - PG-13]
Title: Happy Christmas, Nev
Author: maraudersaffair
Pairing(s): Draco/Neville
Prompt: Self-prompt
Word Count/Art Medium: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Getting together, holiday fluff, kissing, bookshops
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thanks for reading!
Summary: Neville runs into Draco at a Muggle bookshop and they spend Christmas together.
Christmas was a lonely time for Draco. His parents were dead, the Manor boarded-up, and his job at the Muggle bookshop was more zoo keeper than quiet academic.
He didn’t know why he lived with Muggles. He didn’t know why he hadn’t tried to nab a position at the Ministry or even transfer to a shop in Diagon Alley. He guessed he liked the anonymity.
It was Christmas Eve and of course Draco was working. His whole life was this bookshop, even on holidays. There was a mad dash for last minute presents, and Draco felt the Muggles’ rising anxiety about getting all their shopping done.
He assisted a husband with wild eyes. “Perhaps a cookbook?”
“No, my wife’s rubbish at cooking. I know it. She knows it.”
“What about a nice diary?”
“She hates writing.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
“She loves books! I just can’t remember what kind.” The husband rubbed his head, looking quite miserable.
“Does she read paperbacks or hardcovers?”
“Both? I can’t remember.”
Determined, Draco nabbed three novels: a romance, a mystery, and a historical fiction. “Here. I like all these. We’re having a three for twenty deal, so hopefully she likes at least one.”
“Christ, thank you,” the husband muttered, and wandered off toward the till.
Draco shook his head. Some blokes were truly lost. He rounded a bookcase, and stopped. Neville Longbottom stood in front of him.
“Sorry,” Longbottom muttered, stepping out of the way. He had his nose buried in a picture book about plotting plants.
“Hello, Longbottom.”
He looked up, and his eyes widened. “Merlin, it’s Draco Malfoy!”
“What are you doing in a Muggle bookshop?”
Longbottom looked him up and down. “What are you doing in one? I thought you hated Muggles.”
Draco shrugged. “They’re all right. I like them more than magical folk right now.”
Longbottom put down the book. He smiled brightly at Draco. “Merlin. It’s been years. You look good!”
Draco arched an eyebrow. Did Longbottom mean to gently flirt with him? “What are you doing now?”
“I run a herbology shop in Diagon Alley. Sometimes Pomona lets me sub for her classes, too.”
“Sounds riveting.”
Longbottom smiled and shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand, but just know that I’m really happy doing it.”
Draco frowned. He hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic. “I think you’d be a good professor. You’re patient enough. I’d end up cursing the tiny devils.”
Laughing, Longbottom said, “When do you get off? Do you have plans for the holiday?”
“No plans,” Draco said, hoping his face didn’t go pink. He checked his watch. “I’m off in an hour, but I’m not sure if they will let me go.”
“You know that pub down the street? Ol’ Nic’s?”
“Yes,” Draco said hesitantly.
“I’ll be there for the next couple of hours. Pop in after you get off. Have a pint with me.”
He inspected Longbottom, wondering. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Merlin, no.” Longbottom grimaced a little. Then his expression changed and he winked at Draco. “I’m mostly into blokes these days.”
Draco’s mouth fell open.
“See you soon,” Longbottom said, walking away. He had a nice arse.
*
When his shift was up, Draco sneaked away through a side door. He felt guilty about leaving his coworkers to fend for themselves, but a Longbottom into blokes was too fascinating to pass up.
Ol’ Nic’s was a hole in the wall pub, its door a ruddy red with chipped paint. He went inside and let his eyes adjust. It was louder and more crowded than he thought, since it was Christmas Eve and all, but London was filled with poor souls who had nowhere to go on holidays.
He found Longbottom at a back table. Longbottom waved him over, a grin splitting his face.
“I’m so glad you came! What are you drinking?”
“Ale is fine,” Draco said, unwinding his scarf. He sat down and let Longbottom get his pint.
Longbottom set down his drink and dropped into the opposite chair. Draco took a sip and nearly sighed. It was good ale.
“You look tired.”
“Thanks, mate,” Draco said, grumpy. He didn’t want to look tired. He wanted to look fit.
Longbottom laughed. “Sorry, I mean it looks like you need a warm bath and a foot rub.”
“Are you volunteering?”
Longbottom’s smile didn’t break. “Perhaps.”
Draco snorted and took another sip. “This is a weird place.” Muggle Christmas decorations covered nearly every surface, with wreaths on the toilet doors and garland hanging from the ceilings. At the bar, pissed Muggles wore Santa hats and sang noisily to songs that declared All I want for Christmas is you!
“Is your nan still alive?” Draco asked.
“Yeah,” Longbottom said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she lived to be two hundred.”
“That’s a tough woman.”
“She is,” he said, then became somber. “I heard about your parents. I’m sorry.”
Draco shrugged. “They never recovered from the war. It was better that they passed on instead of remaining ghosts of themselves.”
“Like my parents,” Longbottom said quietly.
“I’m sorry, Neville,” Draco said. “I spoke without thinking.”
“No, don’t apologize. We have to be honest about these things.”
“Are they still … around?”
“Mum is. Dad passed away a few years ago.”
Draco was silent. He sipped his pint and watched the Muggles.
“You seem lonely,” Longbottom said quietly.
“Oh, I am,” he responded, not entirely sure why he was being so honest.
“Don’t you have mates?”
“No, not really. I turned my back on everyone from my old life.”
“That’s very brave of you.”
Draco shrugged. “It was necessary. I needed a fresh start. A fresh heart.”
“I can understand that.” Longbottom paused. “I don’t want to assume anything, but I didn’t know you were bent. In school, I mean.”
This made Draco laugh loudly. “I hid it well! Obviously I don’t hide it well now.”
Longbottom smiled. “I just know what to look for.”
“What about you? When did you know you liked cock?”
“Honestly? Since I was eleven and I laid eyes on Marcus Flint.”
Draco coughed on a sip. “Marcus Flint? Blimey, Nev! You must like them ugly as trolls.”
“Not true. You’re quite pretty, and I like you.”
“Damn you for making me blush.”
Longbottom grinned. “Call me ‘Nev’ again.”
Draco leaned closer. “Nev.”
“You have beautiful eyes.”
“You have a great smile.”
“I never thought I’d run into you in a Muggle bookshop. I also never thought you’d be so fit.”
Draco was outraged. “I was always this fit! I was ten times more fit than Flint!”
Neville shrugged. “You had a terrible personality at school.”
“I was better than Flint!”
“At least Flint had sex appeal.”
Draco gagged. “Never! Absolutely never! You didn’t have to see him in his holey pyjamas.”
“I want to kiss you,” Longbottom said.
“Right here? In front of the Muggles?”
“I know it’s abrupt, but I can’t stop thinking about your lips.”
“You really know how to talk to a bloke,” Draco said, blushing again.
“Please, Draco. Let me kiss you.”
“Oh, all right,” Draco said, hiding a smile. He leaned in, elbows on the table, and their lips brushed. Longbottom tasted like ale and chocolate and mint. He tried to pull away, but Draco clung to his jumper. “Again. Kiss me again.”
They snogged for a long moment, not caring about the Muggles, enjoying the heat from breath and skin. When they sat back, both were flushed and dark-eyed.
“Spend Christmas with me,” Longbottom said, his voice rough.
“Yes,” Draco said, squirming. He wanted to kiss him again and again.
They finished up their pints and left the pub. On the cold street, Longbottom pressed him to the wall and snogged him again. Draco felt his strong chest and soft belly, and he buried his hands in his thick brown hair.
“Wait,” he said, a horrible thought occurring to him. “You’re not expecting me to spend Christmas with you and your nan, right?”
Longbottom laughed. “She’s in Jamaica. Don’t worry.”
“Jamaica? All by herself?”
“You don’t know my nan.”
“No, I suppose not.” Draco pulled him back into a kiss. He whispered, “Happy Christmas, Nev.”
Longbottom smiled against his lips.
Author: maraudersaffair
Pairing(s): Draco/Neville
Prompt: Self-prompt
Word Count/Art Medium: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Getting together, holiday fluff, kissing, bookshops
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thanks for reading!
Summary: Neville runs into Draco at a Muggle bookshop and they spend Christmas together.
Christmas was a lonely time for Draco. His parents were dead, the Manor boarded-up, and his job at the Muggle bookshop was more zoo keeper than quiet academic.
He didn’t know why he lived with Muggles. He didn’t know why he hadn’t tried to nab a position at the Ministry or even transfer to a shop in Diagon Alley. He guessed he liked the anonymity.
It was Christmas Eve and of course Draco was working. His whole life was this bookshop, even on holidays. There was a mad dash for last minute presents, and Draco felt the Muggles’ rising anxiety about getting all their shopping done.
He assisted a husband with wild eyes. “Perhaps a cookbook?”
“No, my wife’s rubbish at cooking. I know it. She knows it.”
“What about a nice diary?”
“She hates writing.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”
“She loves books! I just can’t remember what kind.” The husband rubbed his head, looking quite miserable.
“Does she read paperbacks or hardcovers?”
“Both? I can’t remember.”
Determined, Draco nabbed three novels: a romance, a mystery, and a historical fiction. “Here. I like all these. We’re having a three for twenty deal, so hopefully she likes at least one.”
“Christ, thank you,” the husband muttered, and wandered off toward the till.
Draco shook his head. Some blokes were truly lost. He rounded a bookcase, and stopped. Neville Longbottom stood in front of him.
“Sorry,” Longbottom muttered, stepping out of the way. He had his nose buried in a picture book about plotting plants.
“Hello, Longbottom.”
He looked up, and his eyes widened. “Merlin, it’s Draco Malfoy!”
“What are you doing in a Muggle bookshop?”
Longbottom looked him up and down. “What are you doing in one? I thought you hated Muggles.”
Draco shrugged. “They’re all right. I like them more than magical folk right now.”
Longbottom put down the book. He smiled brightly at Draco. “Merlin. It’s been years. You look good!”
Draco arched an eyebrow. Did Longbottom mean to gently flirt with him? “What are you doing now?”
“I run a herbology shop in Diagon Alley. Sometimes Pomona lets me sub for her classes, too.”
“Sounds riveting.”
Longbottom smiled and shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand, but just know that I’m really happy doing it.”
Draco frowned. He hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic. “I think you’d be a good professor. You’re patient enough. I’d end up cursing the tiny devils.”
Laughing, Longbottom said, “When do you get off? Do you have plans for the holiday?”
“No plans,” Draco said, hoping his face didn’t go pink. He checked his watch. “I’m off in an hour, but I’m not sure if they will let me go.”
“You know that pub down the street? Ol’ Nic’s?”
“Yes,” Draco said hesitantly.
“I’ll be there for the next couple of hours. Pop in after you get off. Have a pint with me.”
He inspected Longbottom, wondering. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Merlin, no.” Longbottom grimaced a little. Then his expression changed and he winked at Draco. “I’m mostly into blokes these days.”
Draco’s mouth fell open.
“See you soon,” Longbottom said, walking away. He had a nice arse.
*
When his shift was up, Draco sneaked away through a side door. He felt guilty about leaving his coworkers to fend for themselves, but a Longbottom into blokes was too fascinating to pass up.
Ol’ Nic’s was a hole in the wall pub, its door a ruddy red with chipped paint. He went inside and let his eyes adjust. It was louder and more crowded than he thought, since it was Christmas Eve and all, but London was filled with poor souls who had nowhere to go on holidays.
He found Longbottom at a back table. Longbottom waved him over, a grin splitting his face.
“I’m so glad you came! What are you drinking?”
“Ale is fine,” Draco said, unwinding his scarf. He sat down and let Longbottom get his pint.
Longbottom set down his drink and dropped into the opposite chair. Draco took a sip and nearly sighed. It was good ale.
“You look tired.”
“Thanks, mate,” Draco said, grumpy. He didn’t want to look tired. He wanted to look fit.
Longbottom laughed. “Sorry, I mean it looks like you need a warm bath and a foot rub.”
“Are you volunteering?”
Longbottom’s smile didn’t break. “Perhaps.”
Draco snorted and took another sip. “This is a weird place.” Muggle Christmas decorations covered nearly every surface, with wreaths on the toilet doors and garland hanging from the ceilings. At the bar, pissed Muggles wore Santa hats and sang noisily to songs that declared All I want for Christmas is you!
“Is your nan still alive?” Draco asked.
“Yeah,” Longbottom said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she lived to be two hundred.”
“That’s a tough woman.”
“She is,” he said, then became somber. “I heard about your parents. I’m sorry.”
Draco shrugged. “They never recovered from the war. It was better that they passed on instead of remaining ghosts of themselves.”
“Like my parents,” Longbottom said quietly.
“I’m sorry, Neville,” Draco said. “I spoke without thinking.”
“No, don’t apologize. We have to be honest about these things.”
“Are they still … around?”
“Mum is. Dad passed away a few years ago.”
Draco was silent. He sipped his pint and watched the Muggles.
“You seem lonely,” Longbottom said quietly.
“Oh, I am,” he responded, not entirely sure why he was being so honest.
“Don’t you have mates?”
“No, not really. I turned my back on everyone from my old life.”
“That’s very brave of you.”
Draco shrugged. “It was necessary. I needed a fresh start. A fresh heart.”
“I can understand that.” Longbottom paused. “I don’t want to assume anything, but I didn’t know you were bent. In school, I mean.”
This made Draco laugh loudly. “I hid it well! Obviously I don’t hide it well now.”
Longbottom smiled. “I just know what to look for.”
“What about you? When did you know you liked cock?”
“Honestly? Since I was eleven and I laid eyes on Marcus Flint.”
Draco coughed on a sip. “Marcus Flint? Blimey, Nev! You must like them ugly as trolls.”
“Not true. You’re quite pretty, and I like you.”
“Damn you for making me blush.”
Longbottom grinned. “Call me ‘Nev’ again.”
Draco leaned closer. “Nev.”
“You have beautiful eyes.”
“You have a great smile.”
“I never thought I’d run into you in a Muggle bookshop. I also never thought you’d be so fit.”
Draco was outraged. “I was always this fit! I was ten times more fit than Flint!”
Neville shrugged. “You had a terrible personality at school.”
“I was better than Flint!”
“At least Flint had sex appeal.”
Draco gagged. “Never! Absolutely never! You didn’t have to see him in his holey pyjamas.”
“I want to kiss you,” Longbottom said.
“Right here? In front of the Muggles?”
“I know it’s abrupt, but I can’t stop thinking about your lips.”
“You really know how to talk to a bloke,” Draco said, blushing again.
“Please, Draco. Let me kiss you.”
“Oh, all right,” Draco said, hiding a smile. He leaned in, elbows on the table, and their lips brushed. Longbottom tasted like ale and chocolate and mint. He tried to pull away, but Draco clung to his jumper. “Again. Kiss me again.”
They snogged for a long moment, not caring about the Muggles, enjoying the heat from breath and skin. When they sat back, both were flushed and dark-eyed.
“Spend Christmas with me,” Longbottom said, his voice rough.
“Yes,” Draco said, squirming. He wanted to kiss him again and again.
They finished up their pints and left the pub. On the cold street, Longbottom pressed him to the wall and snogged him again. Draco felt his strong chest and soft belly, and he buried his hands in his thick brown hair.
“Wait,” he said, a horrible thought occurring to him. “You’re not expecting me to spend Christmas with you and your nan, right?”
Longbottom laughed. “She’s in Jamaica. Don’t worry.”
“Jamaica? All by herself?”
“You don’t know my nan.”
“No, I suppose not.” Draco pulled him back into a kiss. He whispered, “Happy Christmas, Nev.”
Longbottom smiled against his lips.