Potterfic - Peace, Love & Harmony (part 5) - Draco/Neville

[shutupeccles]

Part 1  Part 2 nbsp; Part 3 nbsp; Part 4
Part 5 Word count: 8587


Neville discovered through a Quibbler article that Pansy Parkinson had been found guilty of using Disillusionment charms to sneak in to social events uninvited, stun guests, alter their memories and use Polyjuice potion to become those guests in order to procure her scoops for the Daily Prophet. The conniving bitch was the central topic of discussion at a party Luna held in her loft apartment.

“Draco Malfoy incurably hexed her face so she looks like she has Spattergroit,” Terry Boot told Luna’s guests. Terry had been one of the apprentice Healers on the fourth floor when Parkinson was brought in. His smile of amusement wasn’t the most professional response to the situation, nor was taking pictures of Pansy in hospital which he handed around now.

“I sent Malfoy a thank you owl,” Eloise Midgeon admitted. Pansy had always drawn the cruellest attention to Eloise’s acne during school. Their bathroom confrontations were legendary, giving Eloise martyr status among bullied girls at Hogwarts.

“How did he respond to that?” Mandy Brocklehurst asked her.

“With a Howler that told me to piss off,” Eloise replied with a shrug. “You’d think snogging Neville would’ve softened him up a bit.” Terry and the witches laughed. Neville remained silent.

“Were those pictures real?” Hannah Abbott asked him quietly. “Were you…?”

Neville nodded silently without looking up from his selection of sushi. Luna set him free by calmly smashing the plum sauce on the floor and asking him to buy a replacement. “I’d better come with you to make sure you get the correct one.”

There was no point arguing with Luna. She didn’t ask or say anything as they walked.

“Why are we walking to the market?” Neville asked.

“We’re not. We’re just walking. No-one touched the plum sauce so I would have had to throw it out anyway. Store bought can’t compare to Kreacher’s.”

Neville put a fraternal arm over Luna’s shoulders and kissed the side of her face with the first true smile he’d managed in almost a month. He’d been half of a couple for four years. The time since moved at an irregular pace. Was it a blink ago, or eternity? He missed Draco, so much, not only the sex, dumb things such as the rustle and snap of newspaper pages while he was trying to sleep in on a Sunday. Like Draco’s weight in the bed. Neville seemed to settle deeper into the mattress now and it felt wrong. Domestic moments at the core of their relationship no longer existed. Numbness alternated with pain, routine with unfamiliar.

Couples break up every day. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Neville mourned.

Draco stepped out of a building in front of them and the wizards stared. He noticed the friendly embrace and misunderstood. Neville removed the arm from Luna’s shoulder and stepped forward, touching Draco’s sleeve before he could apparate. “Don’t you miss me at all?” he asked. Hopefully Draco would laugh and deliver an answer so acidic it dissolved the permeating sense of loss.

Draco didn’t move. Then he let their eyes meet. “Only a thousand times a day, give or take five hundred.”

“I’d best get back to my party. It’s nice to see you Draco.” Luna waved and turned back. Neville wished he could be so casual about this chance encounter.

“You too Lovegood,” Draco replied. At least he sounded as strung out as Neville. “I miss her almost as much as you.”

“Can we try again?”

“Why?” Draco’s question wasn’t sharply delivered but it still made Neville flinch. “I want to, but what will change? They might kill each other next time. Whether it’s deliberate or accidental won’t matter. It’ll hurt more. Hard to imagine…” Draco kissed him goodbye on the cheek and walked away before Neville could reach for him. Then he turned back, practically leapt at Neville and snogged the life out of him. Neville held him close and savoured the feel of him. Draco touched Neville’s face, tracing from eyebrow to chin with the pad of one thumb while their eyes absorbed each other. “I miss you, alright? I’m suffering and haven’t stopped loving you. But it has to be this way.”

“Do you have to be anywhere right now?”

“Why?”

“One more night, one more morning to wake up beside you and add to my memory.”

“No…is what I should be saying.”

Neville had many ways to make Draco say yes, and tried his best to convince Draco that the only mistake they made was breaking up.

*~~~*

They stared into each other’s eyes, nudging their partner awake whenever eyelids drooped too low, but eventually they were too tired for that and their last night together came to an end. Neville’s heavier body draped over Draco’s slender figure in the morning. Fingers caressed his back, neck and shoulders. Neville snuggled closer. Draco hugged him and then began to move away. Neville tightened his grip.

“Don’t make things easy, do you Longbottom?”

Neville grinned triumphantly up at him.

Draco’s responding smile faded quickly. “I won’t let anyone else die or lose a family member because of me. Can you please understand and accept that?”

“So when Gran pops her clogs of natural causes…”

“Then you’re mine,” Draco quipped.

Neville rolled back a bit and linked the fingers of their right hands together. “Why are you so convinced this can’t be sorted?”

“That story Lovegood was telling us about, Black Diamond and the Inferior Pure-blood, isn’t based on our parents. Luna was about eight generations out. The story was removed from Romantically Tragic after another of my ancestors was charged with using it to incite violence against her father’s mistress-who happened to be the mother of the young witch in the tale. Ursula Black became smitten by the young and rebellious herbology professor Linden Longbottom during her fifth year at Hogwarts. Linden began demanding Mudbloods be enrolled at Hogwarts and educated alongside those with established magical ancestry. Granger would love him. Ursula became his second in command, helping write slogans on walls and ‘encouraging’ students to sign petitions that were sent to the Wizengamot. They chained themselves to the front gates of Hogwarts at the start of their seventh year shouting “Access shall be granted to all children with magical ability, or none!” Not precisely snappy but it attracted enough attention for other students and professors to join them. The true nature of their relationship was discovered and hit with every form of artillery, including memory modifications,” Draco mimed the rather menacing flick of a wand. “Bringing it to an end before Ursula sat NEWT and beginning the delightful feud between our families.”

“How do you know all this?” Neville asked, expecting Luna to be the source.

“Severus Snape.”

Neville twisted around to wtf grimace at Draco. Draco tried not to find this face amusing. Neville almost got distracted. Draco captured his heart in so many ways. It was nice to know it remained mutual.

“We have a portrait of Severus at the Manor. He was my godfather, if you hadn’t already surmised. He asked Phineas Nigellus and the other headmaster portraits.” Draco replied. “Another Black was disowned for marrying a Longbottom further along, as you may recall.”

Harry had shown them the relevant burn in the Black family tree tapestry during Neville and Draco’s first visit to Grimmauld Place as a couple.

“It seems we’re destined to repeat history in one form or another.” Neville’s lament pushed Draco out of his bed, the opposite of Neville’s intention. “Or perhaps we’re the pair to bring the feud to an end.”

“Stop that. It’s hard enough to say goodbye as it is.” It always had been. “This was clearly a mistake.”

“Can’t we be…?”

“If you say ‘friends’ I’m transfiguring your dick into a flamingo.”

“How am I going to cope without your snippy comments?”

“I’m sure Weasley will be happy to help you out.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No. Nothing is.” Draco’s wristwatch said something in French. He huffed dejectedly. “I have to go. This truly has to be goodbye.” He knelt on Neville’s bed and hesitated until his watch shrieked at him. Then he hurriedly kissed Neville on the lips and headed for the bedroom door.

“What’s it saying?”

“Reminding me that as last in line of two noble houses I have an obligation to my ancestors and pureblood witches who don’t want to marry a Weasley, hence I’m needed elsewhere.”

“What?” Neville demanded with an indignant shout.

“I’m not, I haven’t… It’s some traditional thing that officially puts me on the meat market. Hopefully no witch is that desperate. No heterosexual intimacy will be occurring today.” Draco adjusted the collar and cuffs of his shirt one last time as he gave Neville his assurances. The routine was painfully familiar yet calmed Neville down somewhat.

“You calling me desperate?” he quipped. Of course Draco would be trying to make peace with his father any way he knew how. Neville couldn’t begrudge him that.

“If the Sorting Hat fits,” Draco replied with a smile as he left. The entire morning exchange made Neville’s grief easier to bear, although nothing erased it completely.

*~~~*

Time without Draco flowed like treacle and Neville felt like a fly caught in it, struggling to get free. He went through the motions but never seemed to get anywhere beyond his career. Attending Ginny and Harry’s wedding alone reminded him of everything he’d lost. After months of keeping it in he confided in his mother. She couldn’t give him advice, or even comfort, but Mum would listen without prejudice.

“Why can’t we be allowed to love each other? Lucius accused me of plotting against him by seducing his son out of the gene-pool. Gran…!” Neville dared not speak against Gran although he blamed her more than Lucius for Draco’s decision. “If she’d jinxed Lucius instead then… You would have reacted like Narcissa if Lucius attacked me with more than insults, even by accident. Then Draco…” Neville would have done precisely the same thing if the roles had been reversed. “So I couldn’t argue. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me. That I can remember, anyway. Why can’t I catch a break? Almost everything was wonderful. The only way it could have been more perfect was if you and Dad had kept talking, and been able to get out of here.” He cried in Alice’s lap again. “We have so many important things in common. It’s like half my soul resides with him and half of his with me so we’re somehow whole, but only when we’re together.”

A trembling hand grasped hold of Neville’s wrist. He sat back, assuming his father was reaching for Mum. Frank’s eyes were filled with sadness and sympathy. His other hand gripped Neville’s shoulder firmly, despite its frailty.

“Boy,” Frank said in a croak.

“My baby,” Alice’s soft voice added between the constant background music of her humming.

“Poor boy,” Frank said.

“He still loves me,” Neville said quietly, so his dad would see that not everything was hopeless. “Knowing it’s as difficult for him often makes it easier. But sometimes,” it made Neville crumble into a privately blubbering mess. “Some days I believe Bellatrix’s cruellest act was letting you and Mum live. I never know how much I can say to you, or about what, whether my visits make you feel better or worse…”

Alice’s hum brightened and Frank nodded with the first smile he’d ever aimed at Neville.

“Poor boy, good boy,” Frank said slowly, nodding again at the end. Each word was heavier than the pause before it. “So sad. Sorry,” he added. His fingers managed to close feebly over Neville’s shoulder before Frank slumped, exhausted.

Alice reached for Frank’s hand and stopped humming as they stared at the wall with familiar vacancy. Neville finally understood what they were hiding from. He knelt between them and covered their joined hands with his. “Don’t be,” he said firmly. “I love you. Thank you.”

A tear beaded at the corner of his father’s eye. Neville waited until it began to slide, and pressed his lips against it. “Thank you,” he whispered again. Then he said goodbye.

He needed to have a discussion with Gran.

*~~~*

“…years like that! There was no need for it Gran! Holding back makes them worse because they think we’re disappointed and afraid of them. These stiff and formal visits have been slowly killing my parents!”

“Don’t raise your voice to me in this manner Neville,” Augusta replied coolly. “How was I to know the Healers were wrong? You were an infant, barely able to run the length of a room without falling onto your bottom. Your parents’ behaviour had become unpredictable, their magic erratic. Their wands were removed for your safety as much as theirs. Every Healer on the case told me to maintain a calm speaking voice at all times. Frank had already injured Alistair Moody and a Healer for startling Alice on separate occasions, so movement was to be kept to a minimum.” Augusta gestured for Neville to sit on her favourite chaise. He did, Gran grasped his hand in two of hers as she sat beside him. Her voice lost its sharp edge. “Do you think I enjoyed keeping the only source of possible joy in their lives away from them until you learned self-control? There is so much to tell yet you were always too young, until you became too old and then it seemed telling you everything could only make you resent me for keeping such important information secret. You see, your parents had been held captive and tortured for weeks before the Order of the Phoenix implemented the unauthorised plan that led to their release. Alice asked after you four times a day for the first three months. “Where is my baby? Is he alive? Neville? Frank?” She never said anything else. Alice was the age you are now, your father merely a few years older, and the poor girl would sit wringing her hands, rocking and sobbing. Although Healers and friends constantly explained that you were safe and being looked after while she and Frank recovered, Frank’s presence was the only thing that soothed her. This is why they are housed in a single room.” Augusta gently pressed Neville’s hands between hers. “An apprentice Healer and I disobeyed and brought you to see them, hoping that would help. Alice became hysterical because you had grown so much. Frank heard her alarm and immediately reached for a wand that was no longer there, accusing me of being an impostor and trying to fob off some Death Eater brat as his darling boy. From that moment I lived in constant fear that my son, treasure of my heart, could accidentally kill his own child. If Frank’s wand hadn’t been sitting in my bedside drawer, next to Alice’s… it would have been my fault.”

“Gran, I’m sorry.” Neville knew the words were inadequate, bolstered though they were by the arm he placed around his grandmother’s shoulders.

“We can say sorry for every mistake we’ve made once we enter the arch. Perhaps then we will have sufficient time to cover them all.” Gran patted his hand in the same straightforward manner. “I took in photo albums after that, to show how you’d grown. Alice began to hum as we turned through the pages and it’s the only sound she makes since, while awake that is, so once you’d learned to sit still and keep quiet we brought you in again. You were three years old by then, clutching my hand in terror and not saying a peep. All four of us sat and stared in silence, like melons with faces painted on. Alice gave you the first of those wretched sweet wrappers when we made ready to leave. You said “Thanks Mum” in the tiniest, most insecure voice I’ve ever heard. Her smile… You clutched that thing so tightly in your little hand during your afternoon nap… I had to call some friends of your parents to care for you because I spent the evening in tears.”

She and Neville were in danger of spending this evening the same way. “I kept every single one of those wrappers,” Neville admitted.

“I know. I found them and never had the heart to throw them out though I detest the things. Frank and Alice continued to decline despite every effort. Those old fears came back nine-hundredfold when you told me you’d begun going to St Mungo’s on your own. Neville, dear, I hope you are right about your parents, although it means I have failed as a mother. Being wrong can never be more painful.”

Neville knew precisely how Gran felt. He’d never thought to ask, just assumed she didn’t want to talk about such things. “Would you like me to stay? I can fix supper and…”

“Thank you dear. Tomorrow perhaps,” said Gran as she stood. “Tonight I wish to visit my darling son and hopefully cry with him instead of over him.”

Neville wished he could do that with Draco. He’d learned so much and Draco remained the first person he thought of sharing anything with. They’d been able to talk and argue about everything, honest and openly. Luna was his second option with Ginny third but tonight neither could compare, so he told nobody.

*~~~*

Hannah Abbott and Terry Boot joined Neville’s ellipse of friends thanks to Luna. Hannah sobbed on Neville’s shoulder more than Luna’s when Terry left her for a Veela and perpetual grief united them against the nauseating onslaught of happy-joy among their social set. Everyone they knew was already married or breeding. Widespread community pressure to replenish the severely depleted magical population prompted Hannah and Neville to get married so their families would leave them alone. Children would interfere with Hannah’s dream of owning the Leaky Cauldron and Neville’s hopes of becoming a herbology professor. An asexual partnership suited them both. The newspaper announcement of Draco’s engagement to Astoria Greegrass was another contributing factor. Their dutiful marriages were inadvertently set for the same date-almost three years after their last goodbye.

Bumping into each other at Gringotts fifty-two hours before their respective weddings was entirely coincidental.

“How’s your dad doing?” Draco asked as they waited to be taken to their respective vaults. Neville would have ignored the enquiry if he hadn’t been able to recognise genuine concern behind it.

“He’s been growing stronger recently. There’s little change in his coherency or levels of interaction, but he’s no longer on a rapid decline.” Neville waited for Draco’s usual jibe about the growth of his vocabulary. The lips he’d regularly kissed, that promised to be miserable without him, twitched in preparation but no quip came. “How are things with you?” He selfishly hoped Draco was pining for him, like Remus after Sirius, or Snape after Harry’s mum.

“Father’s health has also been improving recently.”

“Lucius and Narcissa worked things out then?” after shattering everything we’d believed was rightfully ours.

“Not entirely, no, but his temper stabilised soon after I announced my engagement. Now Mother’s disappointed in me instead,” Draco said with a grimace.

“I saw that in the newspapers, the announcement. Or rather, Gran pointed it out to me in the middle of Didn’t-I-tell-you-you-were-being-a-fool-Neville?”

“How did you react to that?” Rather than being snide, this query highlighted Draco’s hope that he shared Neville’s selfish hopes of mutual misery.

“By doing something completely foolish and getting engaged too,” Neville admitted with a self-mocking grin. Draco’s expression matched. “Say the word and I’ll call it off.” It was a daring gamble but Neville would berate himself for eternity if he didn’t try. They still cared after three years apart. That must mean something.

Hope and temptation were stifled by Draco’s sense of duty and his determination to make decent, responsible choices. “That’s hardly honourable behaviour Longbottom, even from a friend of Weasley and Finnegan.”

Neville admired Draco’s resolve as much as he wanted to break it. “They’re still not game to mention you around me, or ask about anything pertaining to us.”

“Blaise was the opposite until his new wife proved too much of a distraction. We became friends again once his murderous mother moved to Azkaban.”

“That’s good, on all counts.”

“Astoria and I wouldn’t have become close if Blaise hadn’t married her sister. Remember Daphne from our year? She was one of that cow Parkinson’s friends.”

“So were you,” Neville saw fit to point out. “You were all over each other.”

“No. Pansy was all over me. I allowed it because I had no physical desire for her whatsoever and it left me free to perv on Theodore Nott without having to fob off other unwanted female attention. Picking on Parkinson with Astoria is almost as enjoyable as plotting against Potter with that humungous Muggle cousin of his.”

“Dudley was upset when my skinny blond bed-friend with the pointy face didn’t come to Harry’s wedding.”

“Is that how he described me?” Draco asked with an amused smile. Neville wanted to kiss it off.

“He had some fiendish plans for the reception and hoped you’d help carry them out.” Neville could smile about it now. At the time he’d been distraught by Draco’s absence and told Dudley to piss off.

Draco’s laugh echoed with regret as they reached the Longbottom family vault. Neville did not expect Draco to wait for him.

Sometimes he hated being right.

*~~~*

Ginny passed baby James to Harry and followed Neville into his private greenhouse. “Astoria Malfoy’s candid like Luna, only her sense is easily discernible among the nonsense. Perfect attitude for a midwife,” Ginny told Neville. “She asked me about that old Daily Prophet hate fest of Parkinson’s since the incriminating photos were taken at my engagement party.” She negligently shrugged off Neville’s warning glower. “We had to talk about something while waiting for James to attach properly. Pity my son’s future wife Neville, he’s a born biter. I told Astoria to ask Draco-and he told her the truth.”

Neville dropped the potted sapling he’d intended to transplant. Some immature Dirigible Plums broke off and floated to the ceiling. “The actual, proper truth, or a Malfoy twisting of the truth?” he asked.

“The absolute honest, Luna Lovegood level of uncomfortable truth,” said Ginny. “Astoria spent five years in the Slytherin common room with the guy and knows he can’t be trusted so rather than take him at his word she snuck one of George’s truth potions into Draco’s pudding then asked him again with the same result. Except,” Ginny paused for a dramatic finish. “Draco added that although he loves her, he loves you more!”

“Why are they still married then?” Neville’s hands shook as he plonked the sapling into a new pot and swept up the spilled soil.

This was obviously not the response Ginny was hoping for. “This was before that. It’s what convinced Astoria to propose in the first place. He’d been entirely honest without depreciating his relationship with you. She only asked me about that article to hear your side of events because He Still Loves You!” Ginny placed great emphasis on what she believed was the most important bit.

“And I still love him, yet rather than being bonded together we’re married to other people.”

“Where did that B word come from? You’ve been apart for four years. How and when was the B word bandied about between you and why wasn’t I told?”

“That’s irrelevant Ginny. Like the rest of this conversation.”

Ginny stared at him blankly, posture rigid. Her suddenly shrewd expression had him worried. “Well I’ll just continue to gossip away while you work. Feel free to block out the sound of my voice. Astoria’s pregnant, about as far along as I am with this melon.” She had the grace to not smile triumphantly when Neville’s eyes shot to her convex waistline. He hadn’t wanted to comment, knowing how difficult weight could be to shift. “We haven’t announced Bumpy’s presence yet. Hermione deserves a bit of attention seeing as this is her first. The way Ron carries on you’d think he invented sperm.” Ginny’s brown eyes rolled dramatically.

Neville smiled. “Hannah seems to be the only one of you who isn’t pregnant.”

“Firstly, you have to be doing it with her for that to happen so it’s no surprise it will take you two a lot longer. Ten months of every year living at Hogwarts doesn’t allow much baby making time, Professor Longbottom.”

Neville only recently became Pomona Sprout’s teaching assistant and had many years ahead before he could earn the title Professor.

“Particularly not when Hannah spends most nights trying to make the Leaky Cauldron a success,” Ginny added to prove she wasn’t suggesting he was neglecting certain husbandly duties, which they both knew he was. “Close friends getting married to balm their mutually broken hearts-sounds familiar.”

Neville stared at Ginny in irritation. “Which story’s that in Luna’s favourite book?” he asked, as though he couldn’t guess.

“I’m trying to make sure this particular story won’t be in there - hint, hint. Commit adultery in Hogsmeade - hint. Or at Hogwarts - hint, hint. Am I being too subtle?”

Neville flicked a deflated plum at her.

“Watch out for Bumpy!” Ginny shielded her slightly rounded abdomen with both hands. “The point I was trying to make before pregnancy brain got in the way, is that Astoria doesn’t want her husband living with a divided heart. Neither does Hannah I’ll wager.”

Harry brought a fussing James back to the greenhouse and rapped at a window. “Someone’s hungry again.”

“You do realise that by the time your first born is weaned, his sibling will be nursing?” Ginny complained as she strode outside. “You won’t be getting near my luscious boobs again until James and Bumpy have finished with them!” She sounded so much like Molly that Neville and Harry grinned at each other through the greenhouse door. It didn’t stop Neville feeling like Remus after Sirius died, though.

*~~~*

They resembled wooden statues as they stood outside the Hog’s Head Tavern. It had been a long time since their last goodbye. This meeting was no accident but it was far more awkward.

“Hello,” Neville said quietly.

“Hello,” Draco replied. “I wouldn’t be here if my wife didn’t…”

“Have you by the balls,” Neville quipped, having heard that Draco was whipped. He thought that was rather rich coming from Harry and Ron.

“Trust us to keep things reasonable,” Draco corrected. “I hate when you pre-empt my sentences. You always get it wrong.” He entered the tavern and Neville followed.

“How’s Scorpius?” Neville asked as they sat at one of many empty tables.

“Happy enough for a boy who looks more like me, now he’s stopped looking like a wizened turnip that is. Not that that’s much of a difference lately.” Draco stopped as he noticed Neville staring at him. “Still can’t resist me then? Even knowing the world will end?” he smirked.

Neville kissed him, more than once although Draco responded the first time. Brown eyes locked onto grey. “Every room in the castle, you said. We never made it beyond one.”

“We can’t,” Draco said reluctantly and looked away.

“What moron gave you morals?”

“Some Gryffindor I shacked up with after leaving school.”

“Remember the last time we said goodbye?” Neville meant to sound humorous and seductive, but it came out sad.

Draco nodded. “It still hurts,” he admitted.

Neville’s hand hesitated behind Draco’s back, wavering between moving closer and further away before making contact. Draco turned to him and they began slowly kissing with their eyes closed. Then they went upstairs to say goodbye again.

*~~~*

Draco aimed a narrow gaze at Neville’s nose as Neville’s fingers continued touching the bumps of his vertebrae, up and down like rungs of a ladder. “You understand the principle of ‘goodbye’ don’t you, Longbottom?”

“Let’s see: ‘Going for now, so we should fuck in case I can’t come back again.’ That’s the definition you taught me, anyway.” Neville traced the lower outline of Draco’s shoulder blade. “Did you lie to me Draco?” he teased as Draco began to melt again at his touch.

“I need to fly a broom home you know.”

The significance of his chosen mode of travel wasn’t lost on Neville. It was easier and safer to change direction on a broom than during apparition. Draco hadn’t been sure about coming here. Yet here he was, naked in a rented bed after being lovingly farewelled.

“I’ll take you home without making a scene,” Neville promised then kissed the side of Draco’s neck. “If this is definitely the last time we’ll say goodbye. Please?”

Draco arched his back to expose his throat and Neville hauled him into his lap. Draco was still sticky and stretched as he fit himself perfectly onto Neville’s cock, which continued growing inside him as they rocked in subtle rhythm, touching and kissing everywhere they could reach. Neville wanted to bite Draco’s neck, scar him, keep him forever because he couldn’t stop loving him and needed him back.

Neville missed his wit, face, conversation, opinions, the contention Draco could cause with a single facial expression. He missed Draco wrapped close around him in this manner, draped all over him like their first time, vulnerable and relaxed. Draco could be sleeping if not for the pants, moans and languid words against Neville’s neck, lazily taking an arseful of cock. The intimacy of this position meant they literally could not get any closer and it had always been Neville’s favourite. The idea of some other man taking his place in this scenario pained him. He stopped thrusting but kept one hand in Draco’s hair and tightened the arm around his back.

“Tease…” Draco tried urging him back into motion. “Something wrong?”

“Jealous,” Neville admitted.

“I don’t bottom for the wife,” Draco whispered tantalisingly in Neville’s ear, “only you. Do you mean…? Have you been …?” His unfinished question echoed Neville’s earlier dread.

“No, no-one else,” Neville quietly assured him.

“This isn’t goodbye, is it?” Draco slouched against Neville’s chest and looped his arms loosely about Neville’s neck and shoulders.

“I hope not,” Neville replied honestly and angled his neck so they could kiss as they resumed making love. It was more incredible than make-up sex while living together. Their embrace tightened and Draco’s dick stiffened as the friction caused it to grow hotter and heavier between them. Neville loved the feel of it. “Come on me,” he huffed as he rammed into Draco with hefty slaps. “Let me take some of you home.”

Draco groaned as his cum splattered Neville’s torso and stuck to his own. “You, disgustingly erotic,” he gasped, boneless again.

Neville kept bouncing him so he could come too, one more, yes, glory.

“Should have ridden bareback, hear it squelching out as you finish pounding me-oh-fucking-fuck.” Draco clenched everything around Neville, arms, legs, arse, chin. Neville slowly pushed into him a couple more times and then sagged back against the headboard. Draco stayed on him, like a blanket.

“This isn’t fair,” Draco said eventually. Neville agreed by solemnly kissing his neck. “I have a wife and a son,” Draco said as though he’d discovered a second head growing from his shoulder while looking in the mirror.

“You also have my dick in your arse,” Neville reminded him with a slow swivel that made them both squirm with pleasure.

“You have a wife too. How can you let me be so selfish? It’s even more dangerous now, for all of us.” Draco’s fear threatened to bite Neville too yet this altruistic side of him made him more attractive.

Neville angled his head so he could see Draco properly, touching his hair and face. “You’re so incredibly beautiful Dray. Our paths are going to continue to cross and I can’t stop loving you in between.” The British magical community was a small one, less than two-thousand after the war, hence the increased obligation to marry and breed. “I try. We haven’t seen each other in years, yet…”

“This can’t be natural. It feels like time only progresses at the proper speed when I’m with you. That scares me.”

Something else scared Neville. He should have thought of it before. “How traditional was your marriage ceremony?” If Draco had broken an Unbreakable Vow they could pretty much count his lifespan in heartbeats.

“We very carefully worded our Unbreakable Vows. It would hardly be fair if Astoria finally found the woman of her dreams only to be carried off by a single adulterous kiss. Besides, I may have promised a certain man of mine that we had a date once our contentious relatives entered the arch.”

“Astoria…”

“You and I never talked about it, for obvious reasons, but the idea of parenthood holds a certain appeal. Astoria feels the same and has similar disadvantages, i.e. finding heterosexual activity disgusting. We might try for more if we can get over the physical horror. Watching this little bundle of noise, tears and bad smells develop a personality is more amazing than having a Transfiguration Professor who gets about as a tabby cat, or a werewolf teaching us DADA.”

Neville saw happiness in Draco’s features. A dark pain travelled through his heart, staining some pieces blacker than others, like ink powder through water. Draco sat up and held Neville’s face by the chin so he couldn’t look away.

“I’m not nice Neville. I thought of making you hate me when we stopped living together, and again that night we ended up back at your place. But then you’d probably think I never meant any of it, that the secrecy and risk were part of some mind-buggery. I read the funeral notices in both Prophet and Quibbler, getting my cruel hopes up that one of our main obstacles will be out of the way. Hopefully then the other can be persuaded to let us be. Loving you for nine years hasn’t made me a saint.” Draco released Neville’s chin and slapped his chest with the back of one hand. “And you, Longbottom! You haven’t just fallen off your moral high horse since we first hooked up, you’ve cooked and eaten it!”

Neville grinned.

“Don’t encourage me!” Draco protested.

Neville scooted down the bed as he rolled them over so Draco was beneath him. “I love you,” Neville declared joyously and kissed him with another grin. “Philanderer,” he added. Draco gave him a chortling kiss back.

“You’ve heard about the state of play with the Malfoy family. How are things between the Longbottoms?” Draco asked as they began getting dressed.

“Nothing so well thought out as your arrangement. We pretty much agreed this would get everyone off our backs. Hannah has no interest in making babies and Gran finally stopped nagging me about our hormonal rebellion.”

“Does Hannah know you planned on spending the day with me, and why?”

“Not yet. Ginny does. She suggested waiting to see how today panned out before… Hannah knows we were a serious couple and how empty my life became when you broke it off. Whatever direction we take from here, I will be telling her when she gets home.”

Draco tapped each shoe with his wand and the laces tied themselves as he sat on the bed with his legs crossed in front of him. Neville turned to comb his hair and saw Draco watching him in a sliver of mirror. He missed moments like this more than sex. Their hearts felt bonded although they’d never made the vow.

“I want to do more than fuck,” Draco said bluntly.

Neville stared into reflected grey eyes. “Good.”

“Are you going to teach at Hogwarts once you’re a fully qualified professor?”

“Hopefully.” Neville tucked the comb in his pocket as he sat on the opposite corner of the bed. “Here’s some castle gossip: The Professors still haven’t located the Room of Requirement and there’s a large crack in what appears to be five feet of solid stone in place of the Room of Change. No-one’s been able to fill it or identify what caused it. Maybe you could come and take a look before summer ends, when there are no students about.”

“Why?”

“Because that was our room and I’m harbouring some Lovegood-worthy suspicions about it.”

Draco agreed to take a look.

*~~~*

Ginny and Luna expected Hannah to be more understanding about the Draco situation, as did Neville. Hermione took Hannah’s side which caused a great deal of friction between the sisters-in-law, particularly when Hermione declared the Ministry’s ‘keep magic alive’ policies barbaric. Ron supported the Ministry’s stance. “We’ll become extinct otherwise. It’s a miracle there’s any of us left as it is.”

“Perhaps if they introduced a policy encouraging fanatical purebloods to marry Muggles,” Hermione snapped her retort.

“What they should really be promoting is marrying for love, like we did!” Ron raged back.

“Next time Neville tells you he’s shagging Draco? Don’t tell Hermione,” Harry told Ginny. She nodded with round, brown eyes. Neville decided complete secrecy might be the way to go this time around.

*~~~*

Professor McGonagall was still Headmistress at Hogwarts. Surprisingly, she was also waiting on the doorstep of Neville’s newest address.

“Sorry to intrude in this manner Neville. Might I come in for a cup of tea, and perhaps, a chat?”

The novelty of being addressed as an equal by those who taught him was enough to stop Neville gawping like an idiot at this request. “Is everything alright with Professor Sprout?” he asked as he showed Minerva McGonagall in to the humble rooms above the Hogsmeade chandler. He hadn’t bothered finding anything larger or finer since leaving the London apartment he’d rented with Hannah. Professors Sprout and McGonagall had discussed building a ‘wee house’ behind the Hogwarts Greenhouses for his use while completing the thesis on Gulping Gladioli and other nocturnal, predatory plants.

“No, no. Pomona’s leg is healing nicely. Bear with me whilst I take what may seem a roundabout path. You see, Mr Filch has been most frantic these past four days. He insists that the mysterious crack is now only three feet deep rather than six. These measurements happen to be incorrect,
as of one hour ago. The gap is now only two feet deep and three inches across at the widest point, rather than seven. The wall bears no evidence of external magic.”

Neville continued preparing the tea tray in silence.

“I have a theory about the strange behaviour of that section of wall which I have yet to discuss with the school governors or my predecessors. Perhaps, Mr Longbottom, you have your own?”

Ah, so it was back to more formal modes of address. Neville knew Minerva would not leave without an answer. “The Room of Requirement was destroyed the same night as Voldemort. According to the school house-elves that room was the only one not built by human or elf magic but by Hogwarts itself. Hogwarts could be trying to build another but the magical damage was too extensive…”

“I too have spoken with the house-elves on this matter particularly those whose ancestors helped construct the original castle. They believe Hogwarts has already produced a replacement. The location of that crack is not insignificant.” Minerva stirred then sipped her tea. Neville ate a crumbly biscuit. Minerva raised an eyebrow. Neville fidgeted like a First Year beneath her scrutiny. She spoke quietly. “Hogwarts formed a new secret passage into Hogsmeade because you were hungry. It could have led you to the school kitchens instead. Dobby was still working there, drumming up support for Harry Potter among his fellow house-elves. He would have granted unlimited pantry access to reward your loyalty to Harry. None of the Hogwarts elves would have revealed your presence.” Minerva let him think on the significance of the path to the Hog’s Head. He’d never considered that. “Do you know how Tom Riddle’s Death Eaters gained entry the night Professor Dumbledore died?”

Neville nodded. Minerva sat in silence, determined to make him say it. “Draco let them in, through the Room of Requirement.”

“Why?”

“Voldemort threatened to kill his…”

“No. Why did the Room of Requirement let those Death Eaters out when it could have held them captive? Why did the only sentient room in the school aid a boy who intended to do great harm to us all?”

“Maybe it saw something in him that we didn’t.”

Minerva nodded with subtle satisfaction at Neville’s response. “You and Hannah have not separated due to your extended residence at Hogwarts. I have come to believe that that room was not created by you and Draco, Mr Longbottom, but for the two of you.”

“Why?”

“If only I knew. There has been some form of reconciliation between the two of you? Say, about four days ago?”

Neville felt his cheeks and throat grow hot. He nodded.

“Then I shall ask Kingsley to stop his Aurors poking about at that hole in the wall. The tea was lovely, thank you.” Minerva stood and reached for her tartan pointed hat. “Unfortunately, those who try to establish peace once the common enemy is vanquished misjudge the effect of policy on individuals. Many are worse off now than before as they search for personal peace while trying to do what’s best for society. I wish you both the best of luck. And some common sense for your detractors,” she added sincerely and showed herself out.

Neville raced to the post office and sent an owl to Draco, asking ‘How soon can you come to Hogwarts?’

*~~~*

The door was right there, exactly as they’d last seen it the night of the Restoration Ball. Neville didn’t understand. He’d examined that jagged fissure in the wall every day of his internship.

“You realise murmuring ‘Hey Dray’ in that sexy way you used to wake me up pretty much guarantees we’ll shag. There’s seriously no need for mythical tales.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Should we go in? Or is this truly a mythical tale and the room is bait, luring us in so Hogwarts can eat us?”

Neville laughed and let Draco open the door. They walked in together. It was dusty but otherwise unchanged. They immediately set to cleaning it up. Draco sat with his back against the winter wall, judging distances and sliding his bottom along the floor until some internal condition was met. Then he patted the floor between raised knees. Neville knelt before him with a smile. This was precisely where they first kissed. Draco’s hands covered his. After a momentous silence, Draco began to confide.

“I was honestly on my way home after that argument we had in Moaning Myrtle’s penthouse. This door opened as I rushed along and I stopped, expecting someone to come out. No-one did and the room was empty. I assumed that meant Potter had been hiding in here with his father’s cloak. Since no-one attacked me I knew he wasn’t. I had to come in. Everything came out. Then you came in. I was more mortified than pleased to see you at the time.”

“I thought I’d never see you again, not to talk to like we had been. What possible excuse did I have? I couldn’t concentrate and found my way here, expecting to be alone.”

“In seven years of school I’d never seen you yell at anyone but me and evil Mr Riddle, so I didn’t harbour any hopes for a happy ending when you found me.”

“Then kissing me was even more courageous than I thought.”

“I admired and envied you from the end of Fifth Year, you more than Potter.”

Neville aimed to kiss their lingering adolescent insecurities away. Draco’s response implied that he came close. Neville admitted in a whisper that he still hoped to be bound together, unbreakably. It felt not only right but necessary. Draco softly disagreed.

“That wouldn’t be fair to you or Astoria. Why should I have everything while you only live half-lives?”

“I’ve had less than half a life since you divided our home. Don’t I deserve you?”

“Don’t beg,” Draco said hoarsely.

“You used to like it when…”

“Shut up.” Draco kissed him with rough vigour. “Not here!” he insisted as Neville’s hand invaded his shirt.

A new door swung open and clunked against the summer wall. They turned to stare. “Hogwarts is a bigger perve than Moaning Myrtle,” Draco declared.

“So are you.” Neville began reminding him of some kinkier activities they’d indulged in and Draco pushed him toward the summer door. “Every room in the castle Draco, you promised.”

“You’re making more. That’s cheating.” Draco stood and helped Neville to his feet. The newest room was decorated in light, natural tones with a simple bed in one corner and small water fountain in another. “Ceiling fan,” Draco pointed directly above the bed as he flopped down on his back.

“We were having a serious discussion earlier,” Neville said as he sat beside Draco’s prone form. His hand lifted Draco’s shirt enough to tantalise. Draco’s hand travelled up Neville’s arm. He did not answer until his fingertips stroked the side of Neville’s neck.

“What we want is impossible.”

A short, narrow bookshelf appeared beside the bed. Neville looked over the three titles in the top shelf. “Perhaps not.” He leaned across Draco to select a book. Draco rolled over and chose another. Neville spooned behind him as they searched indexes and read out sections of selected chapters. They were soon touching and kissing between revelations before pushing books and clothes to the floor. This was no sedate love-making session despite their spooned positions and softly romantic start. Draco’s arm curled back and he clawed Neville’s neck as Neville wildly pounded his arse with a firm grip on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck…”

“Come, come…”

They both did as the other commanded and were soon saturated in sweat and spunk.

“You make me so weak. It’s pathetic,” Draco complained as they got dressed. “In spite of noble intentions I end up falling at your feet. Why is that, Neville?”

The words weren’t meant to sting but Neville couldn’t help comparing his ordinary features to Draco. “The way I suck you off sends you blind?” He figured that was the most likely reason, otherwise Draco would never have left. Draco didn’t reply. Neville avoided looking at him by pulling his shirt on over his head instead of unbuttoning it to put on properly.

“No, this was a problem before that,” Draco replied glibly. Neville saw him grin.

“You thought about it!”

“I didn’t, honestly! Well, about the first time you blew me - yes, I may have paused for a moment of fond reflection, but I already knew that wasn’t it.”

“You evil prick!” Neville dove across the bed after him. Draco avoided his waning wrath by gleefully leaping about. “Making me believe this was one-sided! Even for a moment, that kills, Draco. Merlin's arse! I don’t know why I’m so hung up on you. Truly, I don’t.”

“You better not mean that Longbottom or I’m never letting you fuck me ever again.” His grey eyes were wild with energy, foolishness, a hint of doubt, and a mountain range of affection. It had been like this when they began living beside each other, running through the townhouses opening and closing walls, flinging seductive comments and mock-insults at each other before tumbling together and either doing it or just snuggling where they fell. Neville had seen this expression in the reflection of his own face when Draco closed the mirror before Neville could chase him through, but then he’d turned around and opened it again, stood there looking like this and they knew. Just like then, they stopped playing cat-and-mouse. Draco let Neville catch him in a close embrace.

“We were epic Draco, like you said in the Great Hall.” It shouldn’t have ended.

“I miss the warm softness of your eyes,” Draco admitted.

“Your sharp critique of newspaper articles,” Neville replied.

“Dorky smile,” Draco added.

“Watching you dress-that thing you do where your hand rubs the corner of your head, messing up your hair when you can’t find what you’re looking for and then you can’t be bothered combing it again because the search for whatever it was made you late.”

“The way you smell of earth, greenery and flowers when you come home from the greenhouse, like all the natural and hopeful things in life.” That observation surprised Neville. “No matter how sweaty and cranky the job made you on the worst days, you still loved it.”

“I still love you.”

“I miss living with you.”

“We have to try to make this work. We deserve to be happy together. Don’t you agree?”

“I’m not leaving my wife. I can’t. The vows pertaining to protecting and maintaining the family we created were made according to the ancient traditions. Astoria and I have agreed to take lovers only if our son’s family remains intact. I half thought you’d have woken up to yourself by now, moved on.”

“Have you moved on?”

Draco’s expression was classic ‘don’t be so dim Longbottom’ and he mentioned several points to be considered before firm plans were made. “Once we sort those things out, then we can discuss the, bonding, issue.” His pauses around the B word weren’t caused by doubt or disinclination. Bonding was potent and ancient magic, not to be taken lightly. Draco wanted it too and was afraid that it might remain impossible.

“We’ll need somewhere private.”

“And comfortable, where we can argue as easily as do nothing.” It sounded like someone was dragging and stacking cardboard boxes in the neighbouring rooms as they listed criteria for their adulterous hideaway.

“Or laugh.”

“Receive guests or shut ourselves in.”

“Store objects and memories that are important to us without worrying about them being discovered,”

“Or becoming tarnished,” Draco added.

“With tranquil and inspiring views,” Neville imagined large, vaulted, plain glass windows similar to those in the winter parlour of Malfoy Manor.

“Close enough to both families in case of emergencies.”

“You’re a delightful blend of practical and romantic, Draco Malfoy.” Neville lightly kissed Draco’s neck.

“You too, which is why we’re a ridiculously perfect couple.” Draco opened the door and stepped into the corridor instead of the Room of Change.

They both paused in alarm before Neville closed the door behind them. It vanished into the wall. “I hope it’s still here,” he said and touched the stone. The original door returned and beyond it, the Room of All Seasons.

“Try for something else.”

“Like what?”

“A wardrobe so we can replace that cardigan you’ve got on. Did you let your grandmother start dressing you again the moment we separated?” Draco asked with a grimace. The strange shuffling, grating sound happened once again as lines appeared in the stonework, joining to form a small, elegantly carved wooden door. Draco opened it and grinned as he examined the articles of men’s clothing hanging from the rail and neatly folded in drawers. “Take that drab thing off and put this one on. Hogwarts no doubt knows your size.”

“Is this room dependent on us?” Had the Room of Requirement been constructing their other imagined possibilities?

“It mustn’t have finished healing when we left. Maybe we should’ve shagged in here instead of the common room.”

“Two down, something-something to go.”

“Predator,” Draco quipped.

Neville grinned.

Part 6