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Chapter Text

-

The first time Neville noticed Malfoy was in September. He had just gotten caught putting Dumbledore's Army posters on the walls, which would not have been a huge issue if any of their old Professors had found him.

It wasn’t an old Professor who found him, though, it was Alecto Carrow.

The Cruciatus Curse laid him out flat on his back and all he could do was scream as pain ripped through his entire body.

When Neville could focus again, he saw Draco Malfoy standing nearby. He was as white as a sheet and was staring at him with horror. It looked like he had just come around the corner and walked right into this.

“What the hell are you doing?” the blonde boy demanded to know as he turned to Alecto. There was fury in his voice, Neville could hear it over his own strained breathing. “He's pure blooded, just like us!”

She sniffed, but lowered her wand, and thrust one of the posters into Malfoy’s face. “He’s a blood traitor,” she said and kicked Neville in the shin with her pointed shoe. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out as pain radiated up his leg. She cast *incendio*, and the rest of his recruitment posters burned, miraculously managing to avoid setting any of his clothing on fire, before she peeled the last poster off of the wall and held it up triumphantly. “I’ll be taking this to the Headmaster,” she jeered at him and stormed off.

Malfoy crumpled the paper in his fist and stared at him, his indignation turning quickly into rage. He threw the paper ball at him and it bounced off of his head.

Neville sat up by degrees. The aftershocks of the curse were still with him, making his arms tremble and his eyes twitch, but he still tried his best to glare back up at the Slytherin boy.

Draco’s lip curled into a sneer as he reached down. He grabbed him by his robes and jerked him to his feet. He thrust him back against the wall with both his hands fisted in his clothing. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he demanded to know, as he got close to him, inches from his face.

Neville shoved him away. Draco let go and stumbled back. “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Neville snapped at him, full of indignant anger himself.

"They obviously don’t care that you're a pure blood wizard, they'll torture you anyway," there was a tiny hint of madness in Malfoy’s eyes.

“I don’t care what they do to me,” Neville returned hotly. “I won’t stop fighting.”

That got him a sneer. “Potter has left you,” he said, and his eyes were cold now, blank. Neville wondered at that - it happened so quickly. “I highly doubt he wants you to die for him while he’s off hiding or whatever he’s doing.”

“I have a job to do, and I intend to do it,” Neville returned, and pushed him away. He left him there and stomped back to the Gryffindor common room.

-

Neville noticed him after that. He was never much of a fighter, but observation was what he excelled in.

Whenever a student got hit or disciplined, or worse, got the Cruciatus Curse, Malfoy flinched. It was barely noticeable. Neville had to be looking for it.

There was a line around his mouth that formed as he frowned. If he had a quill in hand, it shook, just a slight bit. If he was standing his hands would ball into fists.

Neville knew those signs. He saw it on some of the other students as the weeks went by.

He had been tortured before.

Neville listened. He was good at that too, listening. He listened to as much as he could, because knowledge was useful during a war.

Voldemort was at his house. He was there all summer. Some of the Slytherin students were proud when they talked about how their fathers attended meetings. It was no longer behind closed doors, they could say it out in the open.

Malfoy flinched at that too.

There was something that happened to Malfoy that was different from the other students who were coping with the after effects of discipline and torture. It was almost like he dissociated. His eyes would go blank and far away and he would relax. His hand would no longer tremble. Neville noticed how it would take him a moment to get there though.

Neville mentally filed that away as interesting information. He wondered briefly if he could ask him for pointers.

-

It was a third year Hufflepuff. Neville had gotten there too late to find out what the younger student had done, but he joined the circle of students right beside Malfoy.

The Hufflepuff was bleeding, he had hit his head on something. Neville took a step towards him, intending to throw himself between the kid and Amycus Carrow, when Malfoy grabbed his arm.

His face was white, his eyes huge. 'No' he mouthed at him. It wasn’t contempt he saw there. It was fear.

He ignored it. "Longbottom, don't…" Malfoy hissed, but Neville shrugged him off and put himself between the young student and a curse.

The curse didn’t last long because it wasn't for him in the first place. That got the other students to start shouting at Carrow. Good, that was his intention. Ginny was there suddenly, she was yelling about getting Madam Pomfrey.

Amycus backed down. He was outnumbered. He sneered something about getting them all later and left quickly.

When Neville looked up to where Malfoy had been, he found the other boy was gone.

Ginny seemed to have everything under control so he got up himself and left quietly.

He followed along the halls where Malfoy might have gone. He walked silently, quickly. He listened. He didn’t think he'd be lucky, but he was.

He was against the wall in a narrow hall, his head back, his teeth clenched. He was breathing rapidly. Panicking.

Neville's eyes darted further down the hall. There was a small utility closet there, he could see the handle poking out from the stonework.

He grabbed Malfoy’s sleeve and jerked him along. He swung the door open and pushed him into the closet despite the fact he was starting to spit and hiss like an angry cat. It sent him sprawling. He shut the door, locked and silenced it, and cast Lumos.

The room was small and empty. Draco had gotten back up onto his knees and his hands came up to shield his face. He was cowering.

It took him no time at all to figure out why. He had him at wandpoint and had just thrown him into a room and trapped him there. Neville felt like an arse all of a sudden.

He pointed the wand down. Draco swallowed in the shadows.

"What's wrong with you?" Neville asked quietly.

"Nothing!" he exclaimed, and his eyes went wide.

Neville just stared at him.

Malfoy’s face crumpled and he leaned forward, with his head down. After a moment Neville heard a choked, familiar sound.

He was crying. He had Malfoy at his feet, trapped in a closet and the other boy was *crying*.

He felt terrible.

Neville fell to his knees and put an arm across his back. "What happened to you?" he asked with incredulousness and sadness in equal turns. He didn’t mention the fact that he had been watching him.

Malfoy started by shaking his head. "I can't, you won't believe me–"

"Try me," he replied dryly. "I'm friends with Harry Potter," he paused. "I put up a silencing charm on the room. No one will hear."

Malfoy drew in a quick breath. Then another and then he sat up. His voice cracked when he started to speak. "He's in my house. He took my father's wand. He killed…" his hands shook and he tried to clench them tightly. "He killed the Muggle Studies professor. Burbage. In my dining room. The snake ate her," he was hyperventilating now, his eyes unfocused.

Neville felt bile rising in his throat and forced it back. He briefly wished he didn’t ask because knowing about Professor Burbage made him even more angry. He could also see that he was causing Draco a lot of distress. "You can stop," he said quietly.

He didn't stop. "He made me torture… I couldn't do it fast enough so he - I can't do this, I can't… I can't *breathe*…" the words were a jumbled mess.

Neville grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to himself quickly, wrapping his arms around him. "Calm down," he muttered into his hair. "You're safe."

The other boy's voice was wretched. "No one is safe, you absolute fucking *idiot*. No one is safe –"

Neville put his hand in his hair and held him tight. It seemed like the right thing to do.

And Malfoy curled, absolutely *curled* up against him, his head against his shoulder, fingers tightening into his robes. His breathing against his shoulders leveled out by degrees.

"Why couldn't you mask?" Neville asked when he thought the other boy had calmed down enough.

Malfoy shifted against him. "Why couldn't I *what*?" he replied but didn't let him go.

"You do a thing, where your face goes blank. I’ve been calling it a mask because I don't know what it is."

Malfoy seemed to relax instantly. He had been holding him longer than what would seem ordinary, but Neville found that he didn't mind.

"Oh," Malfoy said vaguely. "Occlumency," he pulled away to look at him. Pale eyes searched his own. "Shielding your thoughts. It's…" he hesitated. "I find it difficult to do when I'm surprised or when something is happening to someone I know," he shook his head quickly. "I have nothing to hide right now, I'm out of practice. As far as I know there is only one Legilimens here and it's the Headmaster, and I've nothing to hide from him anyway."

Neville felt like his veins had turned to ice. "Can you teach me?" he asked. He had a sudden fear of Snape searching his mind and seeing everything. He was trying to organize DA meetings, if Snape knew where they were meeting…

Malfoy shook his head slowly, but then he stopped and sat back. He studied him for a moment. "I'm not a Legilimens," he confessed. "I can give you pointers, but I only know Occlumency. I think you need both to teach it properly," he paused. "It's also extremely hard to do it under the Cruciatus curse. You seem to have that happen to you a lot."

"Shut up," Neville replied but he grinned sheepishly and after a moment Malfoy tentatively smiled back.

-

Neville still called it masking, the thing that Draco did.

It was getting worse. Not Draco's ability to mask, but the random violence against outspoken students.

Slytherin students would roam the halls with the Carrows, trying to find anyone who was violating curfew. They’d practice curses on them if caught. He saw them a few times as he trailed the Carrows through the corridors. Malfoy was never among them.

He noticed that Malfoy sat alone in the few classes they shared, at the back and unassuming, so he started to sit with Malfoy during those classes. His old seating partner, Seamus, was confused, so he told him (later, in their rooms) that he was trying to find out the Slytherin patrol schedules so they could avoid them at night after DA meetings. Seamus seemed to tentatively believe him.

Malfoy gave him a bunch of "what are you doing, do you think I want to sit with you?" type comments the first time he sat with him, then proceeded to ignore him. When Neville risked a glance at him he could see that Malfoy had the smallest smile on his face behind his cupped hands.

-

The Dark Arts class was the worst.

They had to endure demonstrations on other students, who were almost always Gryffindors. Amycus Carrow had Lavender stand, without her robe on, at the front of the class, then hit her with a spell that ripped most of her shirt off. The Slytherin students roared with laughter as she stood there, embarrassed and teary eyed and tried to hold the bits of fabric in place.

He set his jaw and went to get up. He knew the rules. Anyone who interfered would get Crucio'd. He didn’t particularly care, an older male teacher ripping the clothes off of a student was obscene.

Malfoy's hand grabbed his thigh under the desk and his fingers dug in.

Neville patted his hand and muttered "mask" under his breath.

Malfoy gave him a startled look that flooded with sudden grim understanding, and Neville got up.

As expected, he got a warning, then as he continued to walk forward he got hit with the curse. There was some laughter when he got up and kept walking towards Lavender with his jaw set.

He got hit a second time. There was no laughter when it happened a third time. He could hear Lavender yelling at him to stop, he could vaguely see her pale face with tears on her cheeks. He didn’t stop.

He stood up again and stepped forward.

The fourth time Amycus didn’t do anything. He watched as Neville put his own robe over Lavender's shoulders and secured it, then walked her back to her desk. Her desk partner, Parvati, wrapped her up in a comforting embrace the moment he got her there.

"Detention after dinner tonight, Longbottom," Amycus said almost casually before continuing on with something else.

Malfoy's eyes were burning with anger when he got back to his desk and sat triumphantly. He got glared and sneered at for the rest of the class.

After class Neville let himself get dragged through the halls until they made it to another closet he didn't know existed. This time it was Malfoy who cast the silencing charm and Lumos.

"Alright," Neville said wearily, turning around to face him. "You can yell at me now."

Malfoy visibly faltered and there was a wretched look on his face. Neville stared at that. That was not what he expected. That was…

And then the thin Slytherin boy reached out with shaking fingers and touched his face. "Are you okay?" he rasped desperately.

"Yeah, Malfoy, I'm fine," he said, waving that off. "It was only for a few seconds each time. I can take it."

He just looked devastated, and Neville suddenly felt uncertain.

At least until Malfoy tightened his hold on his face, leaned forward and pressed trembling lips to his own.

Oh. *Oh*.

-

Chapter Text

-

Neville had kissed a couple of girls before, so he wasn't completely out of his depth when Malfoy kissed him. It was more that he was shocked because *Malfoy*, Slytherin student, probable Death Eater, annoying prat who used to pick on him mercilessly, had kissed him.

The kiss only lasted a second, and then Draco pulled back, his hands dropping and his eyes wide and Neville knew without a doubt that he was just about to run away. He made a split second decision and snatched Malfoy up by the front of his robes and kissed him back.

Draco let out a soft sound and he supposed being kissed back was all the encouragement he needed, because Neville found himself pressed up against the side of the narrow room, hard rock at his back and a solid wall of Malfoy at his front.

It was different than kissing the girls. More wet, more aggressive - though that might have just been Malfoy - scratchier for sure. Despite all his observing he hadn't realized Draco had started shaving yet, but then he supposed he was so white blonde that hair didn't really show on his face.

He let the other boy take the lead, because he didn’t know much about what to do. He found that being snogged wasn't the worst thing in the world by far, it was quite pleasant actually. And a bit devious.

"Don't be angry," Draco said quietly when he pulled away.

"Why would I be angry?" Neville replied and his voice sounded breathless in his ears. "That was, um, it was really nice," he mentally slapped himself. He sounded extremely out of his depth.

That got him a smirk that didn't last long and quickly faded into irritation as Malfoy stepped away from him. "You got yourself detention, which means he'll just curse you longer when no one else can see."

Ahh, *now* he was going to get yelled at. Neville rubbed the back of his head with his hand sheepishly, then dropped his hand and shrugged. "I'll survive."

Malfoy looked like he wanted to punch him. "She wasn't even injured!"

"I'm not arguing with you about helping a girl cover up after being attacked by an adult *Professor*, Malfoy," Neville replied stubbornly.

Draco looked like he was going to continue to argue, but something vaguely resembling guilt flashed in his eyes and he dropped his gaze. "You shouldn't play the hero," he said finally with a small huff of frustration. "It just gets you singled out."

"Better me than someone else," Neville said. He was not backing down on this. He wasn't.

That got him another glare. "Fine," Malfoy said stiffly. He stomped to the door, opened it and left, slamming it shut behind himself.

-

Neville stood there for a long moment until he was able to collect himself and calm his racing thoughts.

Firstly, Malfoy liked him. A lot. Or, at least enough to snog him privately.

Secondly, he was furious at him.

His life was weird.

He let himself out of the closet and went to get ready for dinner.

-

He let Ginny know in the Great Hall that he had detention so she'd have to run DA without him. She usually took charge anyway, but he didn't miss the grim expression on her face when he mentioned detention was with one of the Carrows. “Be careful,” she muttered under her breath at him. “And no heroics!”

He nodded and wondered if someone from their class had already filled her in. Lavender kept giving him grateful smiles that were more winces than anything and her eyes were big and sad.

He was determined not to think about what was to come and just ate as slowly as he could.

He also looked for Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table but the other boy seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking in his direction.

Alright. Malfoy was now going to pretend he didn’t exist. Neville brushed that off and tried not to let that bother him either. They had barely spoken all year, and their longest conversation had been inside a storage closet. They might as well leave it there, he thought. Along with that kiss. Malfoy had just been extremely stressed out after seeing him tortured in class. A perfectly reasonable explanation.

He finally couldn't pull it off any longer and went to wash up and make his way to detention.

His punishment was twenty lashes across his bare backside with Flagelius. He would have preferred the Cruciatus - at least with the latter the aftershocks wore off much quicker than the painful welts from a beating.

His back was on fire as he left the classroom, he had barely managed to get his shirt back on, the cotton rubbed painfully against his torn skin. He grit his teeth and bundled his robes in shaking arms in front of him, it hurt too much to try to put that back on as well.

He *would* go get Madam Pomfrey to heal his back, but Amycus Carrow was coldly angry at him for his display during class, and he had been sure to mention he wasn’t allowed to get his back fixed. Apparently Pomfrey now had to report every injury, and he'd get twenty more lashes if he went to her for medicine. The welts were to *remind* him of his insolence in class so that he didn’t do it again.

If he didn’t want to be in pain for days he’d have to go hunt down medicine on his own. He wondered who he could go to for dittany. Luna might have some. She had mentioned trying to get some healing salves because the members of Dumbledore's Army were starting to show up with more serious injuries than scrapes and bruises.

He made his slow ponderous way down one hallway and then another, turning towards the Gryffindor common room. He was taken by surprise when a figure darted out of the shadows and grabbed his arm.

He let out a startled shout and dropped his robe. A hand clamped over his mouth and a body pressed up against his back which made him yodel in pain, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow.

"Shh!" it was Malfoy, who spun him around and stared at his face. "What happened?" he hissed, his eyes wide and searching.

Neville brushed him away with shaking fingers and drew in a sharp breath as he tried to lean down to pick up his robe. Malfoy beat him to it, grabbing it himself and standing again, puzzled.

"Flagelius," Neville explained in a strained voice in response to the question. "Across the back."

Understanding dawned on Malfoy's face. He clenched his teeth and grabbed his arm and started dragging him through the hall.

He knew where they were going very quickly. Sure enough they ended up in front of the same closet as earlier that day and Malfoy jerked the door open.

Malfoy cast *Tergeo* at the floor and tossed Neville's robes down on it.

He then cast *Lumos Sphera*, leaving the ball of light above them, then turned and shut and locked the door. The last thing he did was silence it. "Show me," he said, his voice low.

Neville hesitated. "I don't think there's anything you can do," he explained. "I can't go to Madam Pomfrey or I’ll get it again."

"Just take your shirt off," Malfoy replied grouchily, and if Neville wasn’t mistaken he went a little pink around the ears.

Neville wanted to crack a joke about Malfoy trying to get him naked, but he wasn't brave enough. Instead he just slowly unbuttoned the shirt and tried not to feel embarrassed about the fact that he had a little extra weight on him. It hadn't bothered him for at least a year, but knowing Malfoy liked him made him feel like he was in second year all over again, and just about as awkward.

Malfoy just rolled his eyes as Neville tried to fold his arms across his bare chest. “Turn around so I can see your back,” he ordered.

Neville did so.

The sharp inhale was telling. "Fuck," Draco said, and he sounded almost awed.

“That bad?” Neville tried to joke, even though it wasn’t very funny.

Malfoy was quiet for a moment, then pushed down on his shoulders with his fingertips. “Sit down,” he commanded. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

Okay. Neville sat as asked, shirtless and on top of his robes, as Malfoy opened the door and left.

After a moment Malfoy’s light sphere faded, so Neville got out his wand and cast his own. He bounced his wand on his knee as his mind wandered.

Why was Malfoy interested in him in the first place? That one was easy enough to answer, he had sat next to him in class and held him as he cried a few weeks back. Neville was trying to be friendly to someone who was obviously dealing with the aftereffects of trauma, and Malfoy might have taken it as more.

Did it matter to him? Neville considered that then decided. Not really.

The other boy didn’t have very many friends that he hung out with. Crabbe and Goyle weren’t much for conversation, and he wondered why they had even come back this year as they were both of age and could decide to not to. It was obvious neither would pass their NEWTs. About the only thing they were good at was casting the Cruciatus while on curfew patrols with the Carrows.

The rest of the Slytherin students either ignored Malfoy or were distantly civil.

He realized with an odd pang that he might be the only friend Malfoy had.

Wasn’t that an interesting thought, though? Malfoy used to have an entire gang of other students that followed him everywhere. He should be on top of the world… but he wasn’t.

He was still going over that when the door opened again and Neville turned around cautiously, his back protesting the motion.

“Turn back around,” Malfoy said quietly, as he shut the door behind himself, his face in shadow. Neville did so, and listened as the other boy settled behind him. Neville heard the sound of a jar opening. “It might be cold at first,” Draco warned.

Neville jolted as cold fingers touched the top of his back, where one of the strikes absolutely throbbed. He relaxed just as quickly as the salve started to numb his welts right away.

He sat perfectly still as thin fingers traced his injuries, massaging in the salve. “Where did you get that?” Neville asked cautiously.

“My mother,” was the brisk reply. “She thought, correctly, that there might be some need for it at school this year.”

That made Neville’s heart clench. “It’s very kind of you to share,” he said quietly.

Malfoy said nothing and kept working.

When he got to the lower part of his back Neville could already roll his shoulders without any pain. Malfoy pulled away finally, and he heard the sound of the lid being replaced on the jar.

“I’m done,” he announced.

Neville turned back around. Malfoy had already put the salve away in the pocket of his robe and just looked at him impassively. Neville flushed slightly and went for his shirt.

“It’s so much better already, thank you,” he said as he pulled it on. His entire back was numb and tingling and getting dressed didn’t hurt.

Malfoy shrugged. He looked away and down, at the bottom of the door where a little bit of light streamed in from the hallway. “I shouldn’t have kissed you this afternoon,” he said after a long moment.

Neville looked up from where he was buttoning up his shirt again, startled. “Why?” he asked. “I liked it,” he added, and felt his cheeks warm.

That at least got a half smile from Draco, though it faded quickly. “I’m your enemy,” he replied finally.

Neville sat back and snorted. “That’s a little dramatic,” he said. “You used to be a huge bully, sure, but you haven’t even insulted me lately, let alone anyone else.”

Malfoy looked confused for half a second, then realization dawned on his face. “No, you - ugh,” he shrugged his robe off of his left arm, then undid the cuff on his sleeve. He yanked it up, and thrust his arm towards Neville.

Neville blinked, his eyes wide with surprised dismay at what he saw there.

Malfoy wasn’t a probable Death Eater.

He was a definite Death Eater.

-

Chapter Text

-

He reached out towards Malfoy's Dark Mark, fascinated by the way the snake slipped in and out of the skull. That made Malfoy inhale sharply. “Don’t touch…” he stopped abruptly. “Just don’t touch it hard,” he said finally.

Neville didn’t, instead he ran his fingertips feather light along the outside of the skull, tracing the lines. It was slightly raised, and it almost felt like a living thing was moving under Malfoy’s skin. He shuddered despite himself.

That got a small huff of laughter. “It doesn’t bite,” Malfoy said quickly, and balled his hand into a fist before letting it go again. He pulled his arm back and tugged the sleeve back down. The look he was giving Neville now was wary.

Neville considered. “When did you get that?” he asked quietly. There was something that wasn’t adding up for him. Malfoy was scared of Voldemort. He had been horrified at the fact that one of their professors had been killed by the man. He was upset that he was in his house. So why would he even have the Mark if he was frightened of Voldemort and seemed to want to avoid him as much as possible?

For a long moment he didn’t think Malfoy was going to answer, but then he drew his legs up and put his arms around his knees. His eyes were back to looking at the scant light coming in from under the door. “Summer before year six,” he replied quietly.

“Summer before?!” Neville exclaimed. “Bloody hell, you weren’t even of age yet!”

Malfoy looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Do you think he really cares about things like that?” he asked haughtily.

Neville sat back. “No, I suppose not.”

Malfoy sighed. He tilted his head back, staring up at the Lumos ball before looking away again. “I was being punished,” he continued, his voice low. “Though I didn’t realize it until later. My father had been sent to prison, see, and he was his second in command. The Dark Lord was angry and told me I had to redeem my family in his eyes by taking the Mark and doing tasks for him. So I did but… the first task…” he trailed off.

Neville was completely silent. He wanted to seem encouraging.

Draco looked at him for a long moment before continuing. "He ordered me to kill Dumbledore."

Neville gasped. "What?!"

"If I didn't do it he said he'd kill me, and implied he'd kill my mum as well."

Neville just stared at him. "But Dumbledore is - *was* - an extremely powerful wizard. How could he possibly expect you to…" he trailed off as a last piece of a horribly grim puzzle slid into place.

Malfoy wasn't meant to succeed.

"Oh," Neville breathed, and felt terrible.

Draco nodded and traced a fingernail along the grout on the floor where he sat. "Snape did it instead, but I'm not a fool. I'm on borrowed time," he inhaled shakily and stared at the opposite wall. "I'm fucked, Longbottom. Eventually he'll get tired of toying with me and finish it."

"Maybe Harry will –" Neville began.

Draco's head snapped around and he glared at him. "Potter will *what*? Defeat the Dark Lord? Oh, because going to prison for life is so much better than a quick death, is that it?"

"Would it be quick though," Neville said very quietly. "Or would he make you suffer?"

If he wasn't mistaken tears had formed in Draco's eyes, though they stubbornly didn't fall. He looked away again. "Probably that," he muttered.

Neville sighed and got up. "I'm going to…" he sat next to Malfoy and the blonde boy gave him a startled look. "I'm going to give you a hug," he finished.

He was stared at until he folded his arms around his shoulders and Malfoy curled against him after only a moment of stiffness.

They remained like that for a while. Finally Draco shifted and pulled away and just looked up at him. Neville couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked.

“We should head back before curfew starts,” he muttered.

Neville nodded and got up, holding out a hand to help Malfoy to his feet. After a moment’s contemplation he took his hand and got to his feet himself.

He hesitated for a moment staring at Malfoy mutely, then licked his lips and shuffled his feet. “Are we…” he paused. “Do you want to… um, maybe try…” geez, he was far more comfortable talking to girls. Malfoy was intimidating.

Draco rolled his eyes, sighed, then leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “Yes,” he said, after he pulled away. “If you want,” he added.

Neville nodded and smiled.

-

They continued. It was both frustrating and exciting at the same time, because he didn’t know when he’d be snagged while walking through the halls and hauled into the closet for a good snog. They never went beyond that, partly because he squeaked when Malfoy’s hand strayed to his bottom one time, which led to more snogging and less touching below the belt. He regretted that squeak, but no one, man or woman had touched his arse before, so he had been a bit startled.

He did love the kissing though. They’d stand there in the dim wand light, panting, and Malfoy’s eyes would be dark as he looked like he wanted to devour him. He’d always stop there though, leaving Neville to make his way back to Gyfindor tower with an erection so hard it was almost painful. He’d disappear into the showers or toilets and wank, getting off in almost no time at all.

Next time, he told himself. Next time he’d be brave and… grab Malfoy’s arse back or something.

-

About a week later disaster struck.

Muggle Studies was almost as bad as Dark Arts, but at least Alecto Carrow didn't cast experimental curses on any of them.

Neville didn’t sit next to Malfoy during that class, because the desks were separate and individual there. He still sat near Seamus, and away from the rest of the Slytherins in the class.

That particular day he was exhausted. He had been up late, trying to drill the Patronus Charm into a group of the younger students, because with Dementors around the outskirts of the grounds it was very much needed. It was reasonable enough to sacrifice sleep to make sure his pupils were safe.

Alecto Carrow was just droning on about the Salem Witch Trials again, like muggles hadn’t mostly managed to kill other muggles off during those. Yes, it was evidence of rampant anti-witch sentiment, but it was also over three hundred years ago.

He fell asleep despite himself.

He woke up to the sound of a hand slapping against a desk. He jolted awake and stared. Alecto Carrow was glaring right at him.

He looked around frantically and she repeated herself in a sweet voice. “Am I not keeping you awake, Mr. Longbottom?” she asked.

He looked away and stared down at his desk top. “Sorry Professor Carrow, I had -”

“No excuses,” she said smartly. She pointed with her wand to a cleared area up at the front of the classroom. “Up here, now!” she ordered.

Fuck. Neville stifled a sigh and got to his feet, trudging up to the front. She had only done this a couple times, but it was his second time getting in trouble, so he knew the routine. He knelt down on the floor facing the rest of the class and waited. He kept his eyes down as well, so all he could see was rows of legs and shoes.

“Who wants to volunteer to help Mr. Longbottom wake up?” she continued.

A rustling from the Slytherin side of the classroom. He didn’t have to look up to know that both Crabbe and Goyle had their hands in the air, and probably some of the others as well.

She was silent for a long moment, and he imagined that she was looking over the other students carefully. He didn’t really care. Choose one and get it over with, he thought with mild contempt.

“Mr. Malfoy!” she called out suddenly. That got Neville’s attention. He jerked his head up, staring. He knew where Malfoy sat, but his face was obscured by a desk. What he could see was his hand on his thigh, and that hand quickly balled into a tight fist.

“What?” was the irritated reply. Oh fuck, Neville thought to himself. He knew where this was going, and if Malfoy protested at all he’d just get singled out. He stared at the clenched fist and tried to concentrate on breathing. Come on, come on, don’t mess this up…

Alecto Carrow sounded disappointed. “I’ve noticed you haven’t joined us on any of our nightly walks, Mr. Malfoy,” she said. “Why is that?”

Malfoy made an irritated noise with his mouth. “Believe it or not, professor,” his voice was scathing. “I’m actually interested in getting Os on my NEWTs, not Os in inter-house disciplinary measures. One of those things *will* bring me employment one day.”

Oh, that was *good*. Neville actually had to stifle a smile. Malfoy’s comment even got some nervous laughter from both sides of the room.

Carrow’s voice was a little higher pitched when she spoke again. “You can do it now, Mr. Malfoy. Come here please!”

That got another sigh. Malfoy got up and pushed away from his desk noisily, marching up to the front. He stopped in front of the desks, a few feet from both Neville and the Professor.

Their eyes met. It was only a very brief second but he could see dread on Malfoy’s face. His stomach plummeted. He needed to mask, he needed to…

And then it happened, the cold blankness slid into place and Neville had never been more relieved. He looked behind himself at Alecto and back to Malfoy. They were staring each other down now.

“Use Cruciatus,” she said. He heard her pick up the hourglass that sat on her desk. “One minute.”

That got the entire class in an uproar. His eyes widened as he stared up at Malfoy. Usually Cruciatus was only for ten seconds. Twenty if the Professors were really angry. He often couldn’t think very well after twenty seconds… he had no idea how he was going to get through a minute.

“Quiet! QUIET!” Carrow snapped. “Do you want him to get more? Huh?” she shouted into the din. That worked, everyone went dead quiet almost instantly.

Malfoy was looking at him again and as Neville watched the cold expression cracked. There was horror and sadness in his eyes and it was terrifying to see. ‘Mask’ he mouthed at him, hoping no one could see his face from where he was kneeling. The last thing he wanted to do was to be responsible for Malfoy getting tortured as well. He had already gone through enough.

That got a flicker of understanding from his kind of sort of boyfriend and then Malfoy sneered at him and his eyes flashed with anger.

Neville had never been more relieved to have Malfoy sneering at him ever.

Professor Carrow held up the hourglass. “Proceed,” she proclaimed.

Malfoy raised his wand and pointed it at him. Neville looked away, focusing on a clear bit of the floor and tried his best to just breathe.

Carrow brought the hourglass down with a bang at the same time Malfoy uttered the word ‘Crucio’.

-

Chapter Text

-

Reality faded back in, in flashes. He was vaguely aware of someone grabbing his arm and shaking him. Of students screaming. Someone was saying that he was dying and he certainly hoped he wasn’t. Of Malfoy's angry voice cutting through the haze. He wanted to reach out to him, but his arms wouldn't work properly and just jerked uselessly. He faded back out again.

Another flash of being walked unsteadily through the halls. He had Malfoy's voice on one side and Seamus' on the other and they were arguing. Seamus was furious, the stream of insults he was letting out were so heavily accented with rage Neville had a feeling he'd have trouble making them out even if he was fully aware.

"Shut up," Malfoy returned, sounding extremely irritated. "Just shut the fuck up already."

"Bothoyou shutup," he slurred and thought vaguely that maybe he had bit his tongue at some point.

At least they stopped their racket. His head was pounding. He had never felt this way after being cursed before. He tried to make his eyes work. He couldn't focus on anything. The hallway consisted of strobes of light that barely gave him any information about his surroundings.

"Am I dying?" Neville asked groggily, echoing the voices from the classroom.

The hand on his arm on the Malfoy side tightened briefly. "No," was the sharp reply. "You passed out and had a seizure."

"If this cuntfaced fucker hadn't been cursin' you, you wouldn't have had one in the first place," Seamus was still furious, obviously.

"Then someone else would have done it and kept cursing him THROUGH THE DAMN SEIZURE. Do you have any *idea* what kind of damage that can cause?"

"I can't see properly," Neville complained.

"Fuck," Malfoy said, a world of emotion in that one word.

Everything was rather grim, and his limbs were still making involuntary jerks. "Did you make it to a minute?" he asked timidly. Even with the world fading in and out he felt a sudden flare of fear that sharpened his surroundings. "Malfoy?" he pressed, his voice trembling. He turned his head and tried to see him but still couldn't make out anything but a vaguely black shape.

"No," was the terse reply. "Close. She won't be doing that again, I went a little mad on her when you started to seize. I'll be going to the Headmaster after we take you to Pomfrey."

"Did you get permission to leave class?" Neville was terrified suddenly, that everything had been for nothing.

"I don’t *care*, she can fuck right off," Malfoy replied with heat. "You're going to get treated whether she likes it or not."

"She'll curse…"

"She won't touch me," Malfoy replied sharply. "I told her I'd curse her in front of the entire class if she tried, and I meant it. She wisely backed down."

"It's the only good thing he's said all year," Seamus added grudgingly.

Neville tried to shake his head, still scared for Draco. The other boy continued. “And even if she does curse me, it can’t be worse than living in the same house as the Dark Lord,” he added, almost under his breath.

That got a squeak of surprise from Seamus. “He’s living with you?”

“Oh, good, you’re paying attention,” Draco returned nastily.

Neville was starting to walk a little straighter, and with less support. "This is so messed up," he muttered. Everything was terrible.

"I'll talk to Headmaster Snape," Malfoy said again. "I've no love for most of you, but if they keep this up students are going to end up in St. Mungo's, permanently."

Neville's blood ran cold. He could hear Malfoy's unspoken meaning to that. He was talking about his parents. A sad sound escaped his lips without him meaning to. Malfoy gripped his arm a little tighter.

They arrived shortly and Madam Pomfrey nearly had a fit when she found out he had a seizure while under the Cruciatus. Neville heard her say "I can't do this anymore" under her breath as she went off to get restorative potions. “Put him in a bed please,” she said quickly from where she was rooting through back cabinets.

“Get back to class before she hexes you for being away too long, Finnigan,” Draco said to Seamus. “He’s safe enough here.”

He was vaguely aware of Seamus protesting and a sarcastic “I’m not going to curse him in front of the bloody *nurse*” from Malfoy, and then Seamus left.

Now it was only Malfoy and him. He was led over to a bed and Draco helped him on to it.

"Malfoy?" he asked, reaching out towards him. He felt stupid the moment he said his name. He wanted comfort, but there wasn't any way to say that out loud. 'You cursed me and I'd really like a hug'. That wasn't happening.

But then his hand was caught quickly, and he felt more than saw as Draco hovered over him and pressed his lips to his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, so quietly he could barely hear him.

“I just wanted you to be safe,” Neville replied, glad his voice, at least, was working again.

Malfoy pulled back again. “I’ll never understand you Gryffindors,” he muttered, sounding strained. “I’ll be back, if they let me,” he added. “If… if you want,” now there was hesitancy there.

“Yes please,” Neville said, more relieved than anything.

“Try not to die in the meantime,” Malfoy added.

“I don’t intend to,” Neville replied and now when he blinked he could distantly make out Draco’s pinched, worried face. He tried to smile at him, though he wasn’t sure how successful he was.

Moments later Draco was gone and Madam Pomfrey was by his side, casting a diagnostic charm and handing him potion after potion.

-

One of the potions must have had a sedative - he fell asleep moments later. When he woke up the world faded back in by degrees. He blinked, then blinked again. He could see, at very least. Shapes and colors weren't confusing any longer. There was a black *something* to his left, so he turned his head to look.

“Oh, it’s you,” Neville groaned. He had been so happy when Snape became the Headmaster. It meant he didn’t have to actually see him in any of his classes.

Severus Snape was looming, his arms folded across his chest. “I spoke to the Carrows,” he said, sounding extraordinarily sour, though that was fairly normal for him. “They are no longer to do anything that might cause… permanent damage.”

“It would be helpful if you had them stop altogether,” Neville returned with considerable contempt, not in the mood to be conciliatory.

Snape’s eyebrows shot up at that, but he looked away after a moment. “They are not here under my direction. I only have so much control over them.”

“Yes,” Neville replied nastily. “Heaven forbid you actually run the school you’re the Headmaster of.”

That got him another particularly shocked look, then a sneer. “I’m beginning to see why you ended up in the Hospital Wing.”

Neville was silent for a moment, and drew a deep breath in order to calm down. “I fell asleep in class,” he tried to explain. “I hardly think -”

“Maybe if you curtailed your nighttime teaching endeavors you’d be able to stay awake in class,” Snape continued coldly.

Neville’s heart took off in his chest. He knew. Snape knew.

But of course he did, he saw the posters back in September after all. And enough of the members of Dumbledore’s Army had been caught over the last couple months on their way back to their rooms. Neville considered that. The Headmaster hadn’t done anything about them… yet. He stared up at him.

The Headmaster merely gave him a knowing glower, then turned to go.

“Wait -” Neville called after him. “Malfoy…”

Snape paused but didn’t turn back. “Malfoy will not be disciplined for his actions. There will be no restitution,” he returned, his voice still icey.

Neville blinked at that. “No!” he protested. “No, I don’t want him to be disciplined, it’s not his fault.”

That got the Headmaster’s attention. Snape turned back again slowly, his brow knit in confusion. He narrowed his eyes at Neville suspiciously.

Unexpectedly Neville started to think about Malfoy, of hugging him, of their shared conversations in the dim closet, the absolute crushing fear he felt when Malfoy was called upon to curse him. It didn’t seem quite normal and it didn’t take Neville very long to figure out what was happening. “If you’re in my head, I’d like you to get out of it,” he said quietly.

Snape sneered at him. “I see Mr. Malfoy has shared a lot with you,” the Headmaster said, his voice now clipped and angry.

“We’re… we’re friends,” Neville replied. He met Snape’s gaze levelly. He didn’t have to defend his relationship with Malfoy. He had nothing to be ashamed of.

“A little bit more than that, it would seem,” Snape returned.

Despite himself, Neville felt rage bubble up inside of him. “How dare you,” he returned angrily. “That’s personal.”

He actually got a snort of austere laughter out of the Headmaster at that and another arched eyebrow. “Believe me, Mr. Longbottom, students buggering each other is the *least* of my worries.”

“We’re not…!” Neville began, appalled, and felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Please don’t continue, I really don’t care to know,” Snape said sharply, cutting him off, and Neville stopped talking. He glared up at his former Professor instead.

“He’s been tortured before,” Neville said pointedly once he reined in his anger a little. “And he didn’t tell me that, I figured it out on my own. He’s scared. People are dying in his *house*.”

Snape glared at him and then at the wall for a moment before looking back at Neville. His face softened, but only the smallest amount. “I can promise you,” he said quietly. “That as long as Mr. Malfoy is on Hogwarts grounds, he is *safe*. Satisfied?”

Neville let out a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Yes. Thank you. Sir,” he added the respectful last part for the first time in their entire conversation.

Snape paused, then gave him a curt nod before turning and sweeping from the room.

Neville shut his eyes again. He wanted to get up, to go try to find Malfoy and check on him, make sure he was okay, but he definitely had a sedative in him. He was asleep again within minutes.

-

He woke up the next morning well rested and, thankfully, he received a clean bill of health from Madam Pomfrey. She wrote him a note for that day's classes with the recommendation that he go back to Gryffindor Tower and rest.

He spent most of the day studying instead, alone in his room.

His last class of the day was Dark Arts, however, and he really *really* wanted to see Draco. He couldn’t imagine he was doing so well, especially if he had come to visit him while he was unconscious in the Hospital Wing.

-

Walking back into class got him a bunch of stares from everyone. Dark Arts was another shared house class, just like Muggle Studies, so everyone had seen him cursed by Malfoy the day before. They had all been there for the aftermath as well, which he… didn’t remember.

He felt every single set of eyes on him as he walked purposely up to his shared desk with Malfoy at the back of the room and sat. The entire class seemed to collectively gasp and both sides of the room started to whisper to each other.

“QUIET,” Amycus Carrow bellowed, and there was silence as everyone turned around to stare at the front.

“You should sit with your house,” Malfoy hissed at him out of the corner of his mouth. Professor Carrow had started to drone about his chosen curse of the week, covering his whisper.

Neville didn’t turn to look at him. Instead he stuck his hand under the desk, searched out his knee and patted it a couple times, before pulling his hand back.

He wasn't leaving. If he sat with Seamus it might be better for rumors, however, but he didn’t *want* to move. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered back. A small smile tugged at Neville's lips as Malfoy darted a suspicious glance at him.

Neville put his hand back under the desk and placed it very deliberately on Malfoy’s thigh.

Malfoy stiffened and sat up straighter. Neville felt his cheeks warm, but he didn’t pull his hand away. After a long moment Draco slid his hand under the desk as well and placed it on top of his own.

Neville took that hand in his own and threaded their fingers together before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

The sidelong glance Draco gave him now was both wondering and relieved. After a long moment he tentatively squeezed his hand back.

-

Chapter Text

-

The class passed uneventfully. Neville walked to the front first and went out the door, then paused in the hall. He had gotten enough furtive glances during class to know at least some of his fellow housemates wanted to speak to him.

He was right, most of his classmates, the Gryfindors at least, wanted to give him hugs and ask if he was okay. He quickly reassured them he was fine, that he just needed a night to rest but he was good as new. He even got some concerned looks from the Sytherin students, Zabini clapped him on the shoulder on the way by and said he was glad he made it, and Daphne Greengrass told him she had been worried about him before continuing on her way down the hall.

He supposed his seizure must have looked scary if the Sytherins were upset. He realized with a tiny throb of guilt, that he had mentally painted them all with the same brush. It wasn’t true, at least half of them were probably decently uncomfortable with how the school was being run. It wasn’t just Malfoy who had learnt from experience how much he didn’t like torturing folks and being tortured in return. In fact, Crabbe and Goyle and sometimes Nott were the only ones that ever volunteered to curse others in class. He may have been wrong about almost all of them.

Malfoy exited the class last, and their eyes met across the hall. He looked like he was about to continue on by, then he stopped and stood against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Seamus was the last to let him go after giving him a rare hug. The Irish boy finally picked up on the fact that he was studying Malfoy while they were talking. That got him an eye roll from his housemate, who told Neville he’d see him at dinner before he pointedly started walking down the hall away from them both.

As soon as they were relatively alone Draco shot him the same look as he did while in the closet. It was dark and full of want and Neville could feel himself respond, embarrassingly enough, in the middle of a well lit hallway. He cleared his throat and turned away, making sure to fall into step with the other boy, though the expanse of the hall separated them.

They loitered near the closet waiting until they were alone. The moment Seamus turned the corner towards the dorms, Malfoy grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the closet with a sharp bang of the door.

He found himself pressed up against the door in the dark, before any silencing charms or light could be cast, Draco kissing him like he wanted to devour him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed between kisses. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

"Stop apologizing," Neville managed to get out, then kissed him back, just as hard, nipping at his lips, pressing back against him. “I’m okay, it’s okay,” he said with a soft laugh. “*We’re* okay,” he added, because he felt it was necessary to say. “I’m not angry at you at all.”

Malfoy backed away then, casting the silencing charm and shrugging off his robes. He tossed them on the floor and cast Lumos. Neville could see his face then. He still looked worried. Draco studied him for a long moment, looking him over completely from head to toe. “I was so scared that I might have actually…” he trailed off.

Neville reached out to him, pressed his hand against the side of his face and Draco’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Thank you for taking me to the Hospital Wing,” Neville said quietly. “I remember our conversation on the way, at least I think I did. Did you really tell her off?”

That got him a quick flash of a smile. “Yes. I realized she isn’t nearly as scary as the Dark Lord, and I didn’t want to lose someone I cared about…” he swallowed and his eyes widened as he realized what he had said.

Neville grinned at him, feeling his cheeks flush in turn. He rubbed his thumb against Draco’s cheek and watched as his face darkened, desire flaring up in his eyes.

For a moment the air between them seemed to still, and then Draco was back on him, fingers sliding under his robe. He tugged it off of his shoulders and down as he kissed him again, aggressively, and deeper this time. There was an edge of desperateness to his motions that they hadn’t had before in their other encounters.

Oh. Oh fuck. Neville could feel him, hard against his abdomen, and he groaned as Draco canted his hips against his own.

Draco stripped his robe off the rest of the way, turning around only long enough to place it on the floor. He turned Neville around, then pushed him down.

Neville sat and stared at him, his eyes wide. He didn’t have to wait long before Malfoy was on top of him again, pushing him back until he was laying down, straddling his hips. He tugged up Neville’s shirt, running his hands along his stomach and then higher as he lowered his hips and ground against him.

Neville let out a soft gasp. This was what he wanked to. Not the snogging, though that was amazing as well, but this - Malfoy on top of him, his hands on him. Draco started to fumble with his buttons, and he raised his hands to help him.

Soon he had his shirt open and Malfoy started to kiss and lick at his neck and throat, fingers plucking nimbly at one of his nipples, then continuing down along his sides. He gasped softly when Draco moved to the side and brought his hand down to slide along the top of his trousers.

Draco raised his head again. His pupils were completely blown now, helped by the dim light. “Can I touch you,” he asked, his voice a half an octave lower than usual and thick with want.

Neville nodded, wide eyed. He could feel his breathing speed up with anticipation. This was officially the furthest he had ever gone with anyone ever, but he wasn’t about to say that.

Malfoy cupped him through his trousers and reared up, catching his groan in his mouth. He kissed him, tongue playing along his own, teasing as it retreated and darted forward again. Deft fingers undid his belt, tugging it loose and delving inside his pants. Seconds later he had him free and Neville could feel the cool air of the room against him. Draco started to shift and moved down his torso, kissing and nipping as he went while his hand worked him.

“Wait! I’m… I’m not going to last…!” Neville managed to get out with a strangled groan. Draco merely raised his head and smirked up at him before dropping down between his legs. He removed his hand and very deliberately took him in his mouth.

Within seconds he was coming with a strangled shout. He instantly felt bad, he hadn’t meant to get off that quickly and he also didn’t mean to… oh no, what if Draco didn’t want it in his mouth? He let out an embarrassed squeak and covered his face with his hands quickly. “I’m sorry!” he blurted out.

All that got in reply was a throaty laugh. He cautiously removed his hands and his breath caught again. Draco was beaming up at him like he had won the Quidditch championships or something.

Oh. So, that was probably not a bad thing then. Neville watched as Draco lifted himself up so he was nearly on top of him again, one arm bracketing his torso with his other hand undoing his own belt quickly. He was still fully dressed, shirt askew. As Neville watched, his arm between his legs moved very deliberately and he bit his lip.

His shirt was preventing him from seeing anything, but Neville knew he was touching himself. As he watched Draco's pale cheeks grew flushed, eyes half lidded and Neville found he couldn’t look away, absolutely fascinated. Malfoy grinned, actually *grinned* down at him, then swooped in for another panting open mouthed kiss. Neville trailed his hand down his arm, felt the tensely corded muscles in his arm as his hand worked himself, then put his own hand over Malfoy’s rapidly moving one.

That was all Malfoy needed apparently. He let out a small shout that ended in a bitten off groan and suddenly there was warm wetness against his palm. He could feel some of it hit his stomach and begin to cool in the tepid air of the room.

Malfoy collapsed, only at the last second managing to move mostly to the side, and Neville quickly found a Malfoy half against him, pressed up against him. Draco slotted his head in against his shoulder as he struggled to get his breathing under control.

“I think that took all of a minute,” Neville noted dryly after a moment. "Maybe two."

Malfoy snorted and hit him on the arm without much force. “We’re seventeen, shut up,” he said. Neville could see the expression on his face, he was smiling, his eyes slitted with joy.

He felt exposed and damp and wanted to clean up, but at the same time, this closeness was nice. He raised a hand and started running his fingers through Draco’s white blonde locks, while he tucked himself back into his trousers with his other.

“Malfoy?” he asked.

“Mmm?” he sounded slightly sleepy now and it was adorable.

“Since we just… you know, do you think we should switch to calling each other by our first names?” he continued.

Malfoy tensed abruptly as he thought about that, then relaxed in turn. “Maybe… not in public,” he admitted, and sounded regretful. “In private I don't mind, but if we start being obvious in public it might cause problems. I’m not as worried about myself as much as for you. There are about three people here that use my first name and none of them are outside of my house. Everyone will notice.”

Neville nodded and sighed. It made sense of course, and he really didn’t need extra attention on himself while he was trying to run Dumbledore’s Army and sneak around the school.

Malfoy sat up by degrees and leaned over to press a kiss against his cheek before drawing out his wand and charming them both clean. “We should go get ready for dinner,” he said with another little sigh and he started to readjust his clothes.

Neville reached out and caught his hand in his own. “Can… we do this again sometime?” he asked.

That got him a look like he was absolutely the most breathtakingly idiotic person Draco had ever laid eyes on. “No, it was a horrible experience and I never want to repeat it… of *course* we can you stupid berk. We could even try *different things*. Scandalous!”

Neville grinned and felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment at the same time. “Good. Fantastic actually.”

Draco rolled his eyes then leaned in to give him another kiss.

-

He was late for dinner by the time they finished snogging.

He cleaned up and made himself presentable, and slid in easily next to Ginny. She gave him a huge hug and a happy grin. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. “You should have seen how worried everyone was yesterday.”

Neville nodded sheepishly. “I was fine. Just had to sleep it off in the Hospital Wing.”

They didn't have their meet up that night, they met up on random nights to try to make themselves as hard to catch as possible. All that was left to do for Neville was to head back to his room to study before curfew started.

He shared a room with Seamus. Being in year seven they had double rooms instead of all sleeping together in one room. As they were the last two Gryffindor boys left in their year, they could have technically stayed in their own rooms, but after 6 years of sharing a room it was comfortable. It also helped give solace in light of the fact that their school was currently a festering hellscape.

Seamus met him at the door to their room. He leveled him a knowing look. “How long have you been shagging Malfoy?” he asked.

Neville stared for a beat too long, then pushed past him and went over to his bed. He sat on it heavily. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said that I’m not?”

“No,” Seamus replied abruptly. He went over to his own bed and sat on it. “You came to class today, sat next to the person who put you in the infirmary yesterday, and then waited for him after class. AND you were late to dinner.”

Neville eyed him.

Seamus continued. “After I calmed down yesterday I got to thinking. You know what Malfoy has never ever done in the seven years of going to school here?” he asked.

Neville didn’t say anything and Seamus pressed on. “He’s never stuck up for anyone. He’s never done anything for anyone if it didn’t directly help himself in some way. Yet yesterday when you looked like you were going to die or something he absolutely went off. You should have seen it. Everyone in the class was shocked. The Slytherin students were looking at him like he was a crazy person. The rest of us too. So I got to thinking… why?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to accidentally kill anyone?” Neville tried.

Seamus narrowed his eyes at him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m right. Especially since he walked you personally to the Hospital Wing and then had Snape tell off the Carrows. So… are you?”

Neville looked at his hands. “Um, well. Yes. Kind of. It’s… uh, it’s complicated,” he said.

“JeSUS,” Seamus exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock. “Nev, he’s probably a Death Eater!”

“He is,” Neville said quietly.

“You’re… you’re not joking.”

Neville shook his head no.

“Fuuuuck me,” Seamus threw himself on his bed momentarily, then sat back up again. “Okay. I mean obviously you’re barmy, but *why*?”

Neville swallowed and looked up, trying to make sure he looked as sincere as possible. “He’s scared and alone,” he said. “I - he’s been through a lot, what with everything taking place at his house. Voldemort has threatened to kill him and tortured him, like our detentions but worse, I think. We started talking and it went from there.”

“So… you felt sorry for him?” Seamus asked.

Neville nodded. “I suppose, in a way.”

"Of all the people to have a bleeding heart about," Seamus scoffed, but sounded less upset now.

“Can you… can we keep this a secret?” Neville asked hopefully. "The last thing I want is for this to affect our DA meetings any."

Seamus studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he replied. “I don’t want extra attention either, as your roommate,” he added.

Neville gave Seamus a weak smile. “Thank you,” he said.

“BUT, Neville, if he does anything to hurt you again, I swear to God…”

Neville laughed out loud at that. "I can definitely defend myself," he replied, but he was somewhat touched anyway. "Thanks, Seamus."

-

Chapter Text

-

They were back in the closet again as they often were after their last class of the day. It was usually the only time they could manage to see each other, in that hour or so between class and dinner, as Neville had his group to run or they both had loads of year seven homework to wade through.

“Draco?” Neville asked tentatively after a moment, pausing in petting his hair. There had been something insidious creeping into his thoughts, ever since the cursing incident a few days previous. He had remembered something that Harry had told him the year before.

"What?” Draco mumbled against his shoulder.

“Harry said… he said that you have to mean it, to cast the Cruciatus. Like really want to cause someone pain,” he tried to keep his voice level. Draco’s ability to cast a perfect Cruciatus probably had more to do with his Occlumency but he needed to know anyway. A little bit of his anxiety from being tormented by Draco during his first few years of school was coming back now, because he had sure seemed to want to cause him pain then.

Draco raised his head and stared down at him. “*Potter* said that? When did *he* cast that curse?”

“Back at the Department of Mysteries,” Neville replied. “He tried to curse your aunt with it and that was what she said.”

Draco let out a snort of laughter and shook his head. “Well, he’s wrong,” he replied. “Though my Aunt is batty so she probably thought it was right,” he reached down and ran his fingers down the side of his face affectionately, which made Neville want to believe him very badly. “You don’t have to want to cause the *specific* person pain, I never felt that way about you, even when we were younger. I enjoyed feeling better than others, but actual pain…" he stopped and frowned and looked ashamed. "I didn't think about the mental side of that until last year. I'm sorry," he said it sincerely enough and Neville swallowed and shrugged. A couple weeks of illicit liaisons in a closet had helped smooth over their past and he had a lot of larger things to worry about currently. Like surviving the school year.

Draco studied him for a moment then continued, his voice becoming sharper, more analytical. "Either way, to perform the Cruciatus you just have to want to cause SOMEONE pain and suffering. It’s quite easy to channel that into the Cruciatus. With you, I really wanted to hurt Professor Carrow. It made it easy to use the curse,” he paused and flinched slightly as he watched his face. “Sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t have said easy. Easier?”

“It’s fine,” Neville returned, trying to wipe the horrified look that he was sure danced across his face when Draco said it was easy. “I… I don’t think I could ever cast it, though.”

Draco sat up and repositioned himself so he was sitting against his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down his arm almost absently. “There is always someone you can channel towards. Headmaster Snape?”

Neville made a face. “I don't hate him. Not enough to curse, at least,” he said.

“The Dark Lord?”

Neville considered. “Maybe?” he replied with a little squeak.

“Do you… want to practice?” Draco asked. Neville shook his head no frantically, then his brain caught up and he stared.

“Wait… on you?” he replied, appalled.

Draco shrugged. “I can take it.”

“I am not EVER going to curse you,” Neville exclaimed, sitting up himself now.

“I did it to you,” Draco pointed out. His eyes were dark and shadowed.

“That’s not…” Neville threw his hands over his face in exasperation. “Why are you so messed up?” he muttered through his hands.

“Neville, listen to me,” thin fingers tugged at his arms, bringing his hands down again. Draco had an extremely serious expression on his face. “It’s all fine and good if you want to stick up for your values or what have you, but if you are ever faced with a life and death choice, please cast the bloody curse. A little pain can be forgotten quickly enough. Death is permanent.”

“Do you think I’m going to die?” Neville asked, baffled.

Draco shifted and grit his teeth. “I’m not sure how everything will go. If the Dark Lord wins and kills Potter and this just keeps getting worse… you’ll have to start making choices between bad and worse. And I don’t want to lose you to something so small.”

“It isn’t small to me,” Neville replied quietly.

“It’s smaller than your life,” Draco snapped back at him. He calmed almost instantly and sighed. “Just… just think about it, okay? I know you’re bloody noble but it’s… you won’t survive long in his world like that.”

He felt a warmth in his chest as he reached out and caressed the side of Draco’s face. He didn’t intend to lose anything and he didn’t intend to drop his values, but he could feel the anxiety coming off of Draco in waves. This was a boy who had already made those gray decisions and chosen himself, and probably would continue to do so until it destroyed any tiny glimmer of empathy he might have. Neville didn’t blame him, but he didn’t think he could ever be like him. He didn’t think he'd ever be able to cause pain on purpose because something inside him would die. And he didn't think he'd be able to live his life as a shell of himself. Because of that, he knew his days were numbered.

“Let’s just hope, for both our sakes, Harry wins,” Neville replied quietly.

Draco sighed and looked very tired. “I don’t have very high hopes of that,” he admitted. “No one even knows where he is.”

“That’s good though?” Neville replied. “Missing is much better than dead.”

“I suppose…”

Neville reached over and pulled him in for a kiss, close mouthed, and he tried to put as much tenderness as he could in it. “It’s not over until it’s over,” he said as gently as he could. “Nothing is decided yet.” Draco just looked at him with the tiniest ray of hope warring with the utter despair in his eyes. Neville hoped that Harry came through soon, because he had a feeling neither of them were going to make it if he didn't.

-

Christmas came quickly and with it more anxiety. Draco had to go home and he was practically vibrating with nerves leading up to their departure. Neville tried to be supportive as possible in the dim room, but not being able to touch each other in public meant that their goodbyes were quick and impersonal. Draco's expression was stoney the last time Neville saw him on the train platform, only his eyes full of desperation gave him away.

Waiting for the train, Neville tried his best to show him with an easy stance and smile that things were okay, despite them being anything but. "I'll see you after Christmas," he said.

Malfoy nodded at him sharply and boarded the car with the rest of the Slytherin students.

The train was stopped halfway towards London that day. They were boarded by masked Death Eaters who took Luna away before letting the train continue on.

-

Christmas was tense. His Grandma was sharp and commanding as usual, but there was an undertone of apprehension in her voice. Everyone was on edge, he realized, as he sat with her and listened to the wireless. The daily reports were not promising.

The Lovegood property was attacked and destroyed on December 30th, at least as per the report the next night, in a rather grim New Year address.

His Gran didn't even ask him if he wanted to go back to school or not. She just bundled him up and told him to keep his eyes and ears open. He had no intention of fleeing anyway, he had a job to do.

-

They were missing students when they got back, it wasn’t just Luna. He could only hope those missing students were ones whose parents had gone into hiding. The Great Hall was subdued, very quiet during the first feast back. The Carrows patrolled instead of eating, watching them like hawks, probably trying to keep an ear out for any slander.

He searched for Malfoy at the Slytherin table. He was there but his white blonde head was down. He seemed focused on eating his dinner and not doing anything else, deliberately avoiding everyone’s eyes.

-

It was later that night when he snuck out to go spray paint some walls with Terry Boot, to declare that Dumbledore’s Army was still recruiting. (He was very excited that Terry had smuggled muggle paint into the school. He wanted more spray paint cans. Once the war was done he was going to get one of his muggleborn friends to take him shopping.)

Terry was keeping an eye out, but he still didn't *hear* anything coming when Terry let out a noise of surprise. "It's Malfoy!" he exclaimed.

Neville kept spraying. "Nearly done," he said calmly.

"Neville!" Terry sounded panicked.

Neville finished the last letter and looked up.

Terry’s face was white as he stared behind them. “He's a Death Eater,” Terry hissed. “He'll turn us in.”

Neville turned. Draco was standing there and glaring at them both, with his hands balled into fists. “No he won’t,” Neville said confidently. He tossed the spray paint can at Terry and the Ravenclaw boy caught it.

“Get back to the dorms,” Neville said to him. “I’ll handle Malfoy.”

He didn’t even have to say it, he just walked past Draco and Draco followed him.

It was a bit risky to walk along the halls at this time of night. He sighed with relief when they got to the storage closet without being spotted. He slipped inside the room and Draco followed him.

The expression on Draco’s face was stormy now. He silenced the door and cast Lumos before starting into him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Draco demanded to know.

“Yes, hello to you too,” Neville returned dryly.

Malfoy ignored him completely and pushed past him, further into the room. He began to pace. “I can’t believe you’ve continued to do childish things like painting the damn castle!”

Neville shrugged. “It lets the Carrows know there’s still resistance here.”

Malfoy turned around and gave Neville a cold look. “Taking risks like that is just going to get people hurt, or worse, killed,” he said, his voice low and angry. “And I refuse to be one of them.”

Neville stared at him, confused now. “Why would you be one of them?” he asked.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “If you keep doing things like that, they’re going to catch you and have Snape dig through your mind. You’re going to give up everyone who has helped you in any way, including me. I’m not stupid, you’re the leader - you and that Weasley girl. If you’re lucky the rest of your little gang of halfwits will get tortured and released. I could be killed. The Dark Lord himself will probably do it. Especially if he uncovers that I *know* what you’re up to and I didn’t tell anyone.”

Neville was silent for a long moment. That felt… rather final. He felt his heart skip in his chest unexpectedly. He was sure something showed on his face because Draco looked away quickly. He ran his hand through his hair in a way Neville knew very well. He was stressed or anxious - probably both. “I’m sure you heard about the Lovegood girl,” Draco said finally, his voice low.

Neville nodded. “Is she…”

Draco’s hands balled into fists, but then he released them again, flexing his fingers in agitation. His mask was firmly in place Neville noticed, with just a touch of sadness. “She’s alive. For now,” Draco’s voice was clipped. “No thanks to her idiotic father,” that part was practically spat out.

Neville stared at him for a long time before speaking. He hadn’t considered that Draco would know exactly where Luna was and how she was doing. But, of course, Death Eater. He’d have seen or heard from any meeting that took place at his house. “Luna’s father was doing what he felt was right, Draco,” he said quietly, almost carefully.

Draco’s cold expression didn’t waiver. “If doing what is right gets your family captured and maybe even killed, what’s the point?” he asked abruptly.

Neville didn’t know what to say to that. He’d keep fighting, but he couldn’t ask that of Draco, and Luna hadn’t even been given a choice.

Draco sighed with irritation and pushed away from the wall. A flicker of regret or exhaustion - or maybe both flashed across his face but was quickly smoothed over as he went to the door. “I’m done,” he snarled, glaring at Neville. “But as a warning… Snape has no control over the school any longer. The Carrows have been given free reign to do whatever they want and they report directly to the Dark Lord himself,” his eyes narrowed. “Try not to get yourself killed, Longbottom,” he said with a sneer. He opened the door and left, shutting Neville in the room alone.

-

“What happened?” Seamus asked when he got back to his room. He supposed he looked rather dejected as he shuffled over to his bed and threw himself onto it. “Did you get caught?”

“No,” Neville replied. “Well, kind of.” Seamus looked concerned so he continued. “Malfoy found us,” he paused. “We got talking and I think we broke up.”

“Shocking,” Seamus said dryly. “I expected that like a month ago.”

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Neville grumbled. He stared at the wall.

“You have to admit it was weird. Like really, really weird.” Seamus continued. He paused. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Neville sighed and shut his eyes. “Thanks,” he said. He set his jaw. It only meant he’d be able to focus on getting the students who had joined Dumbledore’s Army trained without any distractions. That was good, wasn’t it?

-

Chapter Text

-

Neville was right, their relationship appeared to be over. The next day in class Theodore Nott was sitting beside Malfoy and his not really boyfriend wouldn’t meet his eyes. Neville dutifully sat next to Seamus, who gave him a knowing look and patted him gamely on the shoulder in consolation.

Dinner consisted of a rare lecture from Headmaster Snape about the spray paint on the walls, stating that if whoever did it was caught they’d suffer heavy consequences - ironically not because of what the paint said, but rather for defacing the castle.

His group was more subdued and he could see the fear in most of them. With Luna’s abduction everything seemed so much more real. They were scared, but determined. He tried his best to keep their spirits up, but admittedly it was Ginny who did all the hard work, she had more courage than he even did. He wondered if there was *anything* that frightened her.

-

The weeks carried on, and he lost himself in school work and resistance work. The ache from no longer having someone to hold faded slowly.

He still kept an eye on Malfoy. ‘Old habits die hard’ and all that. To his surprise Malfoy kept his mask firmly in place, which told Neville that he had been practicing again. His hands no longer trembled, and he no longer frowned when students were cursed or hit. His eyes were completely blank.

Neville almost wished he could do that, but he knew if he cut off his feelings he’d be far less effective as a leader. He needed to show he felt emotions - for the others to give them hope, and for himself to keep focused on what was important. If he let himself retreat into himself he’d become complacent.

-

It got markedly worse after Easter.

Ginny disappeared, though he expected as much. She whispered into his ear after their last meeting that she wasn’t going to come back, it was too dangerous for her with Ron and most of her family being hunted down for being blood traitors. He told her to go hide and that he’d handle the remaining members of their group.

The Carrows were becoming more and more violent and bloody. Michael Corner wound up in the infirmary on the second day back and Neville stopped all resistance activity outright. He didn’t want anyone else tortured within an inch of their lives.

He also had a target on his back now. He was the last “leader” left and the Carrows *knew* it.

-

He noticed Draco the moment he got back from Easter Break. Over three months of no contact and one word sentences had done a lot to smooth over Neville's sadness over their break up, but he didn’t stop covertly watching him from time to time.

Malfoy was cracking. His hands were shaking again, dark smudges were under his eyes and he was paler than usual, which was quite a feat for a boy who was already the palest person in the entire school. It was a couple days later when Neville realized that Malfoy’s hands were trembling while his face was blank that he knew what he was looking at.

The trembling was involuntary. ‘Prolonged exposure to Cruciatus,’ his mind supplied helpfully. A nurse at St. Mungo had said the same thing when he asked why his mum shook from time to time.

His brain pieced together the story when Luna got a note to him. She had escaped, along with Harry, Ron, Dean, and Hermione. The note didn’t have their names of course, just initials, but he could parse it together. They were staying hidden for now.

They must have been held at the Malfoy Estate. And if they had Harry and he escaped, he could see why Draco would have been tortured because of it.

He felt a weird bubbling rage at that. Draco was the same age as he was, and was suffering just as badly as his own group of students. He shouldn’t have to go through this, Mark or not.

He threw caution to the wind and grabbed Malfoy’s arm after class the next day. “Come with me,” he whispered.

He half expected Malfoy to start loudly calling him names and run away, but instead he jumped noticeably and went white. It was easy to lead him back to their closet, Malfoy let himself be hauled along without protest. Neville pushed him inside and did the necessary spells.

Draco looked almost scared as he stood in the middle of the closet, his eyes wide and his lips bloodless. He had reached for his wand but didn’t draw it, instead he just stared at Neville. It kind of broke Neville’s heart.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Neville said quietly. “I already know,” he reached out and took Draco’s trembling hands, cupping them between his own. His hands were smaller than his, they fit easily. “You had Harry and he escaped and he took it out on your family.”

Confusion wrinkled Draco’s brow. “How did you -”

“Nevermind that,” Neville replied. “Are your parents alive?”

Draco took his hands out of Neville’s and sagged against the wall. It was like he had lost all of his energy. “... Yes,” he said. “He didn’t touch my mother,” he added.

“Good,” Neville said. “That’s good.”

Draco turned his head and glared at him. “Why do you care?” he asked.

Neville blinked at him, momentarily dumbfounded. “Why wouldn’t I care?” he returned once he could speak again. “I didn’t stop caring about you and what happens to you just because this -” he indicated to the closet at large. “Stopped happening.”

Malfoy looked at him like he had grown a second head, and Neville stared back. “Have you never…” Neville stopped and started again. “You do realize people are allowed to care about each other? Don’t you have anyone in your life who cares about you without any strings attached?”

Draco looked away again and studied the floor for a moment. “My mother does, I suppose,” he said after a pause.

“Jesus,” Neville said, repeating a swear he had picked up from Seamus. That was one of the saddest things he had ever heard. “Yes of course she does, she’s your mum,” he heaved a sigh and stepped forward, took Draco by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Draco went without protest, but stood a bit stiffly against him. “I’m just going to hug you for a bit, and then I’ll let you go,” Neville said into his hair. “I promise.”

Draco relaxed by degrees, then sighed and pressed his forehead against Neville’s shoulder. “Potter took my wand,” he mumbled.

Neville didn’t let him go but he did raise an eyebrow. “Harry did? When he escaped?”

Draco nodded.

Oh Harry. Then again Harry didn’t know what was happening with Draco and it was more than likely he needed a wand to get out of whatever predicament he was in. Harry’s wand might have been snapped when he was caught. The theft was understandable, in that case. Ollivander had been missing for over a year. “Whose wand you got now?” Neville asked.

“My mother’s,” was the muffled reply.

Ah. That was just extra stress for Draco then. He didn’t even have his own wand, which meant that his ability to defend himself in a fight would be heavily diminished. It also meant that his parents were defenseless. “I don’t suppose your father ever got another wand after last summer?”

Draco shook his head no.

“Well,” Neville said gently. “Your father has managed to survive this long without one. And you said yourself he didn’t touch your mum. It’s not over until it’s over, Draco.”

There was despair in Draco’s voice when he spoke again. “I just want them to be okay,” he whispered.

Neville held him closer and stroked his hair. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

-

He let him go like promised, but Draco also let him hold him a lot longer than he expected. Neville did get an uncertain smile out of the other before he shoved his impersonal blank look back on his face and started back to the Slytherin dungeons.

-

The next day Neville got detention, even though he didn’t do anything. He figured out why when he got there, Amycus wanted him to curse Jimmy Peakes, one of his DA students a couple years younger than him, and Neville told him in no uncertain terms that he was never going to do that. The curse he threw at Neville left a deep gash on his cheek. Seamus went a bit mad when he got back to their dorm, trying to patch it up, but the dark magic in the cut didn’t respond easily to self applied healing spells. He’d have to get it fixed by a nurse at some point or other, they determined, and who knew when that would be.

At least it didn’t bleed.

The next day he spoke up against Alecto and got him another gash across his face. This one was longer but not as deep and he was extraordinarily happy anyway to mouth off at her. Malfoy glared angrily at him while leaving the class, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They weren’t recruiting any longer, but standing up for what he believed in let the other students know he was still on their side.

At dinner that night, looking like he had been beat up badly, he received a letter from his Gran. He managed to read it before it was confiscated by a Carrow.

They had tried to capture her and she had escaped. Because of course she did, his Grandma was an exceptional witch after all.

-

The next day, again after dinner, he headed from the Great Hall to detention. It was another night with Amycus and he fully intended to refuse to do anything he asked him to do, just like two days before.

He was almost there when he was tripped. He went sprawling. He heard a soft ‘finite’ and Malfoy appeared out of the shadows.

Neville turned over and glared. “What the hell?” he growled up at him.

Draco smirked down at him. He had his wand out, his mother’s wand, and he had it pointed at him. “Where’s your grandmother, Longbottom?” Draco asked with a twitch of his eyebrow and a tilt of his head.

“Hiding,” Neville returned. Draco sounded like he used to when they were younger and the wand didn't put him at ease…

“Hmm,” Draco said, as Neville got back to his feet slowly. “It would be a shame if your Grandmother can’t be found and something happened to *you* instead," he continued smoothly. "I believe the Carrows are looking for you as we speak.”

Draco was smiling now, and it wasn't a nice smile. Neville felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He hesitated only a moment, then turned around and started walking rapidly away from where detention was.

“Nice face, by the way,” Draco called out after him.

“Shut up,” Neville returned, irritated now. He broke into a run.

He knew where he was heading before he came close to it. He had just made it up a few flights of stairs when he heard Alecto call out “There he is!”

Fuck. He drew his wand and scampered up the next flight. The Carrows were two floors behind him, he ran up the rest of the way, hunched over to avoid the curses flying at his head.

He remembered the process that Harry had taught him back in fifth year. Pace in front of where the door would appear three times while thinking very hard about what he needed.

‘I need a place to hide,’ he thought, glad he didn’t have to speak, because otherwise he’d be panting for breath. He was starting to get nervous as he heard the Carrows on the stairs, getting closer, when the door faded into existence.

Thank goodness. He slipped on through and sat on the other side of the door, struggling to catch his breath.

-

The room was comfortable enough. It had given him a hammock, several chairs and a sofa. He settled into the latter and wished for something to read, at which point the room provided a bookshelf full of books. He asked about the time outloud and a grandfather clock appeared. Bathroom was the same, giving him a small room with a toilet and a sink.

About quarter after nine he heard the door open. He threw himself behind the sofa and pulled out his wand.

"Neville?" a voice called out.

It was Draco. And he was using his first name, which put him at ease slightly. He didn't think he'd call him by his first name if there was someone else with him.

He still kept his wand drawn as he got to his feet and warily stepped forward.

Draco stood near the door, a satchel over one shoulder and his mother's wand in his hand, pointed down.

Raw relief flooded Draco's face. "You made it," he said. He put his wand back and stepped towards him cautiously.

Neville put his wand away as well. "I suppose I should thank you for warning me in the most arsehole way ever."

Draco shrugged but flashed him a quick grin. "It worked, didn't it? I didn't know if anyone was listening.”

Neville shook his head but smiled ruefully, relieved as well. He held his hands out, palms up, and Draco finished walking towards him and threw his arms around him with a soft ‘huff’, initiating a hug for the first time.

-

Chapter Text

-

“How did you know the Carrows were after me?” Neville asked.

Draco pulled away to give him a serious look. “I overheard them talking about making you disappear because you won’t keep quiet,” he said. “They know I have the Mark so they weren’t careful.”

Neville felt a dart of adrenaline go through him. “That sounds ominous,” he said, trying to laugh but not quite getting there.

“Obviously I don’t want you disappeared or dead or in prison or whatever,” Draco added as he let him go. He went over to the sofa and flopped down on it.

"Obviously," Neville repeated softly. That was as close as a declaration of… fondness that he'd probably ever get out of Draco, at least since their first desperate fumbling in the closet after the other boy had used the Cruciatus on him.

Neville walked over to the sofa and sat down next to him.

Draco was suddenly nervous, sitting up a bit straighter, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

Neville knew enough about body language that he smiled at that, and it was genuine. He reached out and touched Draco’s shoulder, and the other boy stopped his fidgeting cold. “Why did you come here?” he asked, prodding gently.

Draco shifted and brought his satchel over to his lap. “I brought you food. I know the room can’t make any, I spent a lot of time in here last year,” he swung it off of his shoulders and held it out to him.

Neville opened it, and was pleasantly surprised. There were rolls and fruit and flapjacks in paper all neatly packed into it. “Did you raid the kitchen?” he asked.

Draco nodded and looked sheepish. “It was why it took me a couple hours to get here. I had to sneak down to the kitchen without being seen. I told the house elves that I was getting food for you, because you have to stay hidden for now, and they gave me a lot. I think they like you or something.”

Neville did laugh at that, pleasantly surprised. “It’s probably because I’m friends with Harry. They all love Harry.”

Draco scrunched up his nose and made a face. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

There was an awkward silence as Neville carefully put the food down beside the sofa. When he straightened up again, Draco had shifted towards him and was giving him a particularly searching look.

"What is it?" Neville asked, and smiled again because he was fairly sure he knew what Draco wanted.

"I was just thinking, we might not make it to the end of the school year, and I've never… I mean we've never…" he trailed off, the pale skin of his neck and cheeks flushing red.

He was right about what Draco wanted. They had managed to get the entire blowjob/handjob thing down pat before christmas, but they had never gone all the way. They also hadn’t ever really managed to remove very much of their clothing any of the times they fooled around in the closet.

"Yes," Neville replied with a little laugh. It would be nice to do more. He reached up and touched the side of his face.

Draco’s face brightened considerably. “Yes?” he repeated.

Neville really did laugh then, and leaned forward in order to capture Draco’s lips with his own.

“I got prepared,” Draco said breathlessly once they pulled away again, to shift about on the sofa and try to get more comfortable. “Just… just in case,” he blushed again and Neville thought it was very pretty.

Neville gave him a slightly incredulous look, but schooled it quickly. “You mean you want me to…” he trailed off.

Draco nodded, though apprehension flitted across his face then. “Unless you don’t want…?”

“No! I do,” Neville reassured him quickly. “I’ve just… I’ve never, you know.” This was rapidly becoming awkward.

Draco diffused the tension by laughing in a decidedly not mean way. “I haven’t either,” he confessed. “But Zabini dabbled around last summer and he told me some spells and gave me tips. I pretended to be disgusted but I wasn’t, not really,” there was a sparkle to his eye that Neville hadn’t ever seen before and it filled him with wonder. He darted a glance down at Draco’s hands and saw that they weren’t shaking.

This was how Draco could be. One day, if he made it.

He leaned over and kissed him again, which got an appreciative sound in the back of Draco’s throat. The blonde boy practically climbed on top of him, straddling his lap as he wound his arms around his neck.

He was probably the same height as Neville, but painfully thin. Neville pushed Draco’s robes off of his shoulders and ran his hands up his cloth covered sides, and worried as he could feel his ribs as he breathed. He considered asking him if he was eating properly, but decided against it. He had been constantly stressed for months, it was likely he had very little appetite.

Instead Neville just focused on kissing him. Draco deepened the kiss as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his motions becoming more and more frantic.

Draco pulled away first with a soft gasp. “Bed,” he said finally. “I’d like to have a bed.”

On cue, the room shifted around them and produced one.

Neville’s eyes widened. It was the largest four post bed he had ever seen. It looked like it had been confused on what colors to use, and had settled on red and green.

“Very festive,” he commented, and got up, picking up Draco as he went. He was light enough, he could carry him with ease.

Malfoy let out a squeak and wrapped his arms around his neck. Neville walked over and dumped him onto the bed and climbed onto it as well.

The look Draco was giving him was heavy lidded, his lips and cheeks reddened. Neville could see the tenting in his trousers and reached down to touch it, squeezing him through the fabric. Draco threw his head back and groaned, his back arching.

Grinning, Neville straddled him and shrugged off his shirt while Draco watched him. He ran his slender fingers up Neville’s trousers, stopping at his waistband and undoing his belt. Neville tossed his shirt aside then reached down to help him, pushing down his trousers and pants and freeing himself.

Draco touched him and Neville bit back a groan. He made to sit up, but Neville pushed him back. “Now you,” he said as he kicked off the remains of his clothes.

Draco hesitated, then nodded and the Gryffindor boy sat back to watch.

He hadn’t seen Draco naked, or even shirtless before, though he had touched him often enough under the fabric. He was painfully thin, though Neville already knew that, however he had a surprising amount of muscle definition, the lack of fat making every sharp angle stand out in stark relief. His pink nipples were hardened, peaked arousal. Draco bit his lip and continued, undoing his own trousers and pushing them and his pants down and off. He then laid back, waiting.

He was gorgeous, his skin was perfect, only marred by a scattered amount of thin scars on his chest, all white with age. His cock was flushed and full, pressing up against his belly, nestled in light brown curls. It made Neville’s mouth water.

“You’re beautiful,” Neville breathed, and Draco’s entire body flushed pink with pleasure. He dropped his head and carefully licked at Draco’s cock, and the other boy muffled a shout as he took him in his mouth.

He trailed his hand lower as he worked him, down his perineum. He blinked in surprise as his fingers encountered slickness. Draco tensed just slightly then relaxed as he sunk a finger inside. It went easily.

Neville pulled off of his cock with a wet pop. “You’re ready,” he declared, mildly shocked.

“I *told* you,” Malfoy replied with a half grin.

Neville removed his finger gently. He was throbbing, and his hardened dick was more than ready to sink inside. “Can I…?” he began.

That got him a full grin. “Yes,” Malfoy replied with a smirk. He added a quick “please,” as if remembering suddenly that he should be polite, even though Neville was way beyond the point of caring.

Neville sat back and swallowed, fisting himself lightly as Malfoy turned over and got up on his knees.

Now he could see him and he groaned out loud. “Fuck, okay,” Neville said, squeezing the bottom of his shaft so he didn’t embarrass himself too quickly. Just see Malfoy like that, the dusty pink color of his bud glistening with whatever he had used as lube, ready and waiting for him…

He reared up on his knees and ran his hands up the other boy’s sides, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “If anything hurts, let me know?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, yes, get on with it already,” Draco replied bossily, and thrust his perfectly pert arse back against him.

Neville chuckled softly and leaned back, pulling his asscheeks apart with both of his hands. Carefully he started to feed his cock inside of him, and stared in wonder as it sank inside.

Draco let out a high pitched whine in the back of his throat and dropped his head down so his forehead was pressed against the bedsheets.

“Should I stop?” Neville gasped. He very much didn’t want to stop, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause Draco pain.

“NO!” was the fierce reply. “Bloody well MOVE!”

He didn’t have to ask twice. He was so worried he’d cause Draco pain that he went slowly at first, thrusting as carefully as he could, which helped him not explode right away in the tight heat. He tried to think of anything he could to keep going longer, ice cold showers, walking in the winter in icy weather… Snape naked.

He finally clued in that he could help, and reached around to take Draco's cock in hand as he thrust. Precum had already formed at the tip and he slid his thumb through it, making the other boy gasp and rear back against him.

He rapidly lost control after that, his hips thrusting without much input from his brain, Draco’s hard cock sliding against his hand. To his surprise Draco came first with a shout, spurting against his fingers. He clamped down and that was the end of it for Neville, he let go to grab his hips as he came as well, emptying into him.

For a long moment they remained like that as a tableau, both panting. Finally Neville slid out of him in order to lay beside him, struggling to get his breathing under control.

Draco collapsed and laid down on his stomach. Grey eyes watched his face, his lips curled into a happy smile. “Now you won’t die a virgin, Longbottom,” he said, looking as pleased as a cat who had caught a mouse.

Neville rolled his eyes and gently backhanded his arm. “Like that matters,” he said.

“It totally does,” Draco replied, but sounded like he really didn’t mean it.

“Also I don’t intend to die,” Neville added smartly.

The expression on Draco’s face became a bit more solemn. “I hope so as well,” he confessed, his voice soft.

Neville looked at him, smiling fondly, then watched as Draco closed his eyes by degrees.

In minutes he was fast asleep, and Neville had to shake off the urge to join him.

-

Neville let him sleep for an entire hour, cleaning up and dressing himself, then folding Draco’s clothes neatly. When the clock read eleven he carefully shook him awake.

“What… where?” Draco began, startled. He rolled over and looked down at himself. “Oh,” he said. He looked up again. "What time is it?" he asked, confused now.

"Eleven o'clock," Neville held out his bundle of clothes. “You can stay if you want,” he added. “I wanted to give you the option in case you have to go back.”

All signs of the happy contentedness he had seen on Draco’s face the hour before faded quickly. He heaved a sigh and took his pile of clothes from Neville. “Trust me, I'd love to stay, but I should go,” he said with a grumble. “Otherwise they might start searching a little harder with two missing students.”

“You won’t get in trouble?” Neville asked, worried.

Draco shook his head. “No, I’ll just tell them I went for a walk around the lake, or something.”

-

They stood awkwardly by the door once Draco was dressed. Awkward, that was, until Draco threw his arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

“Thanks for the nice night, *Longbottom*,” he said with a smirk.

Neville chuckled at that. “You’re welcome, *Malfoy*,” he returned with a small smirk of his own.

Draco opened the door and stepped out. He closed it behind himself with one last fleeting smile, leaving Neville standing inside alone.

-

Chapter Text

-
Two Weeks Later
-

Harry's arrival was a surprise, but in a way not as much, there was an undercurrent of anticipation building up to something *big* in the air. The Room of Requirement was now full of students, almost everyone that supported Dumbledore's Army had arrived by then, making their way to join him in singles or pairs. He set up a system to keep the Carrows out, making it so anyone who supported them wouldn’t be able to find the room.

Harry and Luna started off on their unknown quest, and Ron and Hermione on theirs. The room became brimming as adult members of the Order started to show up through the Hogsmeade passage.

Draco burst through the door about twenty minutes after Harry had disappeared, panting, and instantly went shock still as a dozen wands were drawn on him.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, sticking his hands up in the air.

"Everyone stand down!" Neville commanded. "He's on our side. He wouldn’t be able to get in if not, remember?”

That got a lot of incredulous murmurs from everyone except Seamus - who just rolled his eyes in his puffy bruised face. At least the students lowered their wands, though they kept them ready at their sides. The adults did not.

"Neville, that’s Draco Malfoy," Lupin said, looking very skeptical.

"I'm aware," Neville returned with a wry chuckle.

"Did he defect?" one of the Weasley twins asked, sounding uncertain.

"Something like that," Neville replied. He walked over to Malfoy, because his hands were still up and he looked like he very much didn't want to walk towards the suspicious crowd.

"What is it?" Neville asked quietly once he reached him.

Draco lowered his arms and placed his hand over his Mark. "He's coming," he darted his eyes to the occupants of the room and raised his voice so that they could hear him. "If Potter is here, the Dark Lord knows, and he’s on his way. If a fight is what you're looking for you'll have one very shortly."

Neville nodded, even as the room burst into an unearthly racket as everyone started speaking to each other at once. Now no one had a wand trained on Draco, thankfully. "We knew he was coming but that gives us very little time to prepare," he said grimly. He looked Draco up and down. "You should hide, you don't have your wand."

Draco shook his head. "My mother’s wand works well enough," he said. "I'll try to distract the Carrows," he added.

"Draco…" Neville began, but Draco had already started back towards the door. He gave him a brief, strained smile.

"Try not to die, Longbottom," he said.

"Same to you," he returned, feeling something ache in his chest. Draco gave him a knowing look that was also slightly sad, and disappeared through the door.

Neville wondered if he’d ever see him alive again.

-

Hours later the battle stopped and Voldemort demanded that Harry give himself up. Neville dug himself out of a blocked hallway and went looking for Draco in the Great Hall. He was personally covered in masonry dust and faintly shellshocked, and seeing the line of bodies didn’t help.

His relief at seeing the other boy quickly faded to sadness when he saw where he was.

He was sitting next to Tonks, and they were both sitting beside Lupin’s still body in turn. Draco’s arm was in a sling, his pale hair matted in places. Tonks hair was currently jet black and she was crying silently.

Draco looked extremely uncomfortable.

Neville stopped in front of them and Draco looked up. “I need to go,” he said to Tonks quietly, and she merely nodded.

Neville waited until they were far enough away to not be heard. “What happened?” he asked.

Draco glanced behind himself with an unhappy frown. “He was already dead when I got there,” he said. “I managed to disarm one of them and she finished them both off, but by that time...” he trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Neville said, and meant it. Professor Lupin had been a great teacher and he’d be missed. Tonks had just gotten married to him the year before and rumor had it that they had a small baby as well. He flinched and made a face, then focused back on Draco, looking him up and down. He looked intact except for the sling. “What about your arm?”

“Oh,” Draco glanced down at it. “Curse rebound threw me down a set of stairs. It was broken, but my cousin set it."

“Cousin. Right,” he never quite got the family tree thing down, but generally everyone was related to everyone else if one went far enough back. He hadn’t realized Tonks was close enough to be considered Draco’s cousin, however. “Does it hurt?” he asked.

Malfoy’s expression was condescending now. “No, not at all. Not unless you move it. Or touch it. Or jostle it in any way.”

Neville gave him a slow smile. "Remember third year? You went on for days."

"Yes, thank you, I'm not thirteen any longer," Malfoy sniffed. He glanced back at the row of still bodies lined up where tables had once been, some of them surrounded by grieving relatives. “Also people have died so I feel complaining of a broken arm isn’t really… helpful.”

Neville nodded and pulled him into a hug along his good arm, and stuck his face into the crook of his neck. Malfoy relaxed against him after a moment, leaning into the hug.

"What on Earth…"

They both looked up to find Hermione staring at them, her hair a fright and her face streaked with soot.

Draco pulled away. "Granger," he greeted her warily.

"He's on our side," Neville explained to Hermione quickly.

"I'm on my own side," Draco amended. "Which is whatever side I'm less likely to die on. Right now it’s this one."

Neville smiled at him winningly.

She had both her eyebrows up now, but then shook her head. "Will wonders never cease," she muttered.

Neville turned back to her. "If Harry kills Voldemort, is that the last of it?" he asked. "Or are there more things we need to do?"

She hesitated and gave Draco a wary look before replying. "Well, we still need to kill Nagini," she said, and sounded almost nervous.

Neville nodded. "Yes, Harry mentioned that," he replied. "But, snake, Voldemort… should be easy enough. What could go wrong?"

She laughed lightly. "Let's see what happens. Harry has probably just left for the forest."

Draco startled at that. "You sent him out there, with who knows how many Death Eaters AND the Dark Lord by HIMSELF?"

Hermione frowned. "We didn't see him go," she said. "... but yes."

Draco threw his good arm in the air, then winced visibly as that moved his recently broken arm. "We're all doomed," he exclaimed. "Ow," he added.

"I'm going to go get you Skele-Gro," Neville said, concerned. He led him over to one of the remaining tables and sat him down. "Stay here," he commanded.

"I'm not infirm, it’s just a broken arm," Draco argued but sat anyway. He eyed Hermione who was still studying him with a thinking frown on his face. "It's been a very long year," he said in response to that look.

She smiled slightly, the weary kind of smile that one gets when exhausted. "It has been for every one," she replied. "How long have you two been…" she waved her hand vaguely.

"Oh come on, it's not that obvious," Draco protested, flushing bright red.

Her exhausted smile became a little more genuine. "Of course not," she said before she turned and walked away. He watched her go.

-

Neville didn't particularly care if anyone saw them. He stuck by Draco's side, his good side, and sat beside him on the bench after giving him the nasty tasting potion to fix his arm. Draco was tired, he laid his head on his shoulder and shut his eyes, leaving Neville to survey the room and watch for danger.

He got odd looks from a few different people, but he ignored them. McGonagall stopped in her constant rush from place to place to raise both her eyebrows at him, just like Hermione had. However, instead of saying anything she just made a “hmm” sound and continued on her way to help elsewhere. She had enough to do, he figured, that two former enemies sitting together were very low on her list of concerns.

He had lost friends, some of them stung, but he was unable to mourn any of them quite yet. He felt anxious, twitchy, he felt like the fight was still happening. And it WAS still happening, because Draco was right. Harry wasn’t going to succeed, not outnumbered as he was, and they’d have to fight again once Voldemort killed him. If they were lucky Harry'd be able to deliver a blow that would weaken Voldemort enough that the rest of them would be able to finish him off.

"You should relax," Draco mumbled against his shoulder.

Neville turned his head and kissed his hair. "It's not over yet," he admonished gently.

-

Harry was dead.

Or, at least, Voldemort had shown up and declared as much, and he *did* have Harry’s body, held in Hagrid’s arms. Neville was not surprised in the slightest, though the thought of losing a long time friend made his heart ache.

He knew what to do, and he knew that he was the one to do it. He was never very good with wand magic, his control was adequate but not inspired. What was inspiring were actions, and those were needed now. Harry had also told him to kill the snake, and he was going to give it his best shot.

He turned on the steps and took Draco's startled face in his hands. He had only seconds, and he pressed his forehead to Draco’s. “I love you,” he whispered in a low enough voice that only Draco could hear. It was suddenly very important to Neville that he say it before anything happened to him. Draco needed to know there was even just one other person in the world who loved him besides his parents.

He only saw Draco’s eyes widen in his pale face before Neville glanced up and caught Seamus’ eye. The Irish boy understood, thankfully. He stepped towards Draco to take his good arm in hand as Neville turned away.

“Neville…” Draco hissed after him. “*Neville*!”

He just kept on walking down the steps, away from their crowd, and towards Voldemort and that damn snake. One of the last things he heard was Seamus muttering at Draco to stop being a baby and to calm down.

-

And then, through a convoluted set of circumstances, he somehow went from just about to die to killing the snake.

The world became a blur after that, shouting voices, loud explosions, Harry being somehow mysteriously alive. He saw Draco in the crowd, but he was pushed into the Great Hall far ahead of him, and no matter how hard he tried to fight through the crowd he couldn’t get to him.

Neville ended up crowded against the side of the Great Hall, watching Harry battle Voldemort, and it was magnificent.

When Harry won the chaos continued.

Order members were capturing the remaining actively fighting Death Eaters, others were absolutely flooding the middle of the room to try to mob Harry. The cheering and celebration was so loud his ears rang.

He saw Draco's parents closer to the exit to the room, but he was further into the room and got to Draco first. The blonde boy jumped as he tapped his shoulder, then turned and threw his good arm around him, the relief plain to see on his pallid face.

"Now it's over," Neville said, and laughed happily. They hugged for entirely too long and no one gave a single damn.

Draco pulled away, finally, and gave him a searching look. "Did you mean what you said? Before you went to kill Nagini?" he breathed.

Neville gave him a bashful smile. "Depends," he replied lightly. "I don't want to scare you off…"

Draco let out a burst of incredulous laughter and hugged him again. "You're the only part of my life that *isn't* scary," he said in a low happy voice. "I can't believe…" his voice cracked. "I can't believe he's dead," he pulled away again to study his face. "I can't believe we're both still here."

"I can," Neville replied confidently, which was a bit of a lie, but he had perfected the art of being extremely confident about things he should be doubtful of. He brushed Draco’s hair back from his eyes. "You're free now," he said.

Draco sobered up quickly. "Well, I still might go to prison," he replied.

Neville shook his head. "I doubt it…" he trailed off as he saw Draco looking over his shoulder.

Neville turned.

Oh.

Draco’s parents were there a little distance away. They both looked exhausted, and his father had fading bruises and cuts on his face. His mother looked well, thankfully. He caught her eye and gave her a respectful nod. She returned it.

“I need to go,” Draco sounded regretful and Neville turned back to him. He smiled at him to show it was okay. And it was, Draco had spent the entire year worried about his parents to some degree. Knowing that they could be killed at any moment during the last month or so must have been excruciating.

Neville reached out and touched his good arm. “I’ll owl you?” he asked.

The smile he got from Malfoy was genuine, and it reached his eyes. “I’d like that,” he said. He brought his hand up to place it on Neville's shoulder, leaving it there for a moment before he stepped on by him.

When Draco reached his parents they bundled him between themselves and started for the exit. Draco glanced back at him only once, curiosity on his face turning into a smirk when he saw Neville was watching. He raised his hand in a casual wave.

Neville waved back. Trying his best not grin goofily, he shoved his hands in his pockets and watched him go. He didn't stop until Draco had disappeared from sight.

-

Chapter Text

-
One week after the end of the Second Wizarding War
-

The entire Malfoy estate was extremely foreboding. Nearly castlelike, it was set on a massive amount of land, covered in hedges and plant life of all sorts. The wrought iron gate stood in his way and Neville eyed it as it bent and meld into a face. “State your purpose!” it demanded.

Neville blinked at it. “I’m here to see Draco Malfoy,” he said politely enough. He waited. The face waited too. After a few extremely tense seconds, the gate swung open without another word.

Well, that was good then. He held his wand a little tighter as he started up the gravel path to the giant mansion. The hedges were a welcome distraction, he mentally started to list all the types of plants and flowers he could see. There were at least a few rare magical plants buried among common ones, and he was in danger of getting lost studying them.

He pulled his attention away and forced himself to look back at the manor. Right, he had a purpose coming here.

He made it up to the door and went to knock on it when it opened for him.

Oh. Okay. He hesitated a moment, then stepped inside. “Draco?” he called out cautiously.

A door at the end of the hall opened and a thin blond woman stepped through, dressed all in black. Neville stopped short.

“Hello, Mr. Longbottom,” Mrs. Malfoy greeted politely. She strode towards him and stopped some distance away.

“I’m here to see Mal - Draco,” Neville said, and tried not to let his nervousness show. This was the home that had Voldemort in it for over a year. Honestly the entire place was a bit creepy.

At least Mrs. Malfoy smiled graciously. “Of course,” she said. “Come with me,” she added. “He’s up in his rooms right now, but he’ll be down in a moment.”

He followed her into a massive drawing room, which was far larger than he expected. She motioned him over to a set of high backed chairs surrounding a fireplace. “Would you like any tea?” she offered.

He shook his head and cautiously sat. “No, I’m good, but thank you for the offer.”

She nodded once. “He’ll be here shortly,” she said and left along the opposite side of the room.

Neville distracted himself by looking the room over. The wooden walls were painted purple between the stonework, and several stern faced portraits eyed him. Honestly, it wasn’t too bad. His Grandmother’s place wasn’t nearly as large, but it had a lot of the same feel to it. Old blood and old family paintings from centuries gone by filled the place.

“Longbottom?”

He looked up to see Draco standing on the threshold to the rest of the manor, dressed all in black as well, an expression of utter confusion on his face.

“Draco!” he grinned and got to his feet.

Draco gave him a very tentative smile back, though the confusion didn’t wane. He stepped towards Neville, hesitant in his approach. “What are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.

"Oh," Neville reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand. "Here," he said, holding it out.

Draco walked the rest of the way across the room. His eyes widened. "My wand," he exclaimed as he took it from Neville. "How did you get this? I thought Potter had it?"

Neville nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "He did. Since they decided not to prosecute you, both Harry and the Minister decided I should be the one to give it back," he grinned a bit sheepishly. "I guess a rumor got around that we're, er, friends."

Draco put his wand away and absolutely smirked at him. “Friends, are we?”

"Well," Neville blushed.

That got a chuckle from Draco. "Is that it then?" he asked, his voice teasing now and considerably less suspicious. "You came all the way here to give me my wand back?"

Neville felt his cheeks grow even hotter. "Actually, no,” he replied. “I have a proposition for you."

Both of Draco’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "We should go for a walk in the garden," he suggested very quickly.

"Not *that* kind of a proposition!" Neville protested. He was fairly sure his face was bright red.

Draco laughed, actually laughed, and it was pleasant. He wondered if he was the only student at Hogwarts who had ever heard him laugh in a *nice* way. “Even so, we should still go for a walk in the gardens,” Draco said once he stopped. “It’s quite beautiful in May, with all the flowers blooming. You seemed to especially enjoy our Herbology classes, did you not?”

Neville did, and it made him happy to know that Draco actually noticed that about him. “I did,” he agreed. “Alright, lead the way.”

-

The grounds were just as lovely as Malfoy claimed they were, and Neville found himself quickly distracted. “I’m going to move into your garden,” he announced at one point, which got another bout of laughter from Draco. The slight boy finally had to bodily haul him away and walk him over to a marble bench by a fountain to get him to talk about anything else.

They were completely alone, Neville noticed, which was probably why Draco sat just a touch too close to be acquaintances, or even just friends.

He was being smirked at again. “So, what was your proposal?” Draco asked. His gray eyes glinted in the mid-morning sun.

Neville drew in a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to come back to Hogwarts with me,” he said.

That surprised Draco and he drew back a bit. “What? *Now*?” he asked.

“No, not now,” Neville returned with a small chuckle. “On Monday.”

“I…” Draco looked intensely confused. “The school is closed until June,” he replied. “I got the letter.”

“I know,” Neville returned. The letter had been issued to all students, stating that the repairs to the building would take weeks to complete, so the remainder of the year would be completed from June 1st to August 1st. It effectively sliced the summer vacation into two. “There are a handful of students who had nowhere to go, and there’s another bunch of us who stayed behind to help repair the castle before it reopens. I’m one of them. I thought it might be nice if you joined me.”

Draco looked taken aback. “I’m not sure…” he trailed off and turned to peer at the fountain, a frown on his face. “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea,” he said finally. “I doubt very many Slytherin students remained there to help.”

“That is true,” Neville admitted.

“I’m not exactly… well liked,” Draco added.

“That’s not true,” Neville corrected. That got him a deeply suspicious look and he spread his hands wide. “Look, nearly everyone who stayed was part of Dumbledore’s Army. They saw you fight on our side last week, and you’ve kept an extremely low profile this year besides. Luna actually asks about you every day.”

Draco blanched at that. “What? Why?”

Neville shrugged. “She must have felt you two bonded when you had her here,” he said.

Draco was giving him a look like he had two heads. “I… brought her food a couple of times?” he said, bewildered.

Neville merely chuckled at that. “Luna likes who she likes and there isn’t any arguing about it. But, what I’m trying to say is… you should come help. It’d be good for you, I think. Get you out of this… absolutely incredible garden, working with your hands,” Neville reached out and took one of Draco’s hands in his own, giving it a quick squeeze before letting it go again. “Maybe share a room with me,” he added, feeling especially daring.

Draco choked on air and coughed. “How would *that* work?” he asked, but Neville could see the gleam of interest in his eyes.

Neville grinned at him, then grew serious as he continued. “The staircase down to Slytherin has completely collapsed, and Ravenclaw tower has two holes in it. They took down the passcodes and all that rubbish, so we’ve been staying in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. No one cares, really, where we sleep, or who shares a room with who. I took over a fifth year Gryffindor room myself. I’m in there all alone, I wouldn’t mind the company,” realization was starting to dawn on Draco’s face and Neville pressed on. “And you won’t be the only one from your house either, we have the Greengrass girls and a few Ravenclaws in Gryffindor as well. It’d be… a fun three weeks. If you’d like.”

Draco eyed him for a long moment, then bit his lip and studied the cobblestones under his smart black shoes. He looked up again, then turned his head and gave Neville a slow smile. “Fine. I’ll come with you. It’s not like I have anything to do right now anyway,” he said. “But *only* if you promise I’ll be safe,” he added before Neville could celebrate in any way.

“You’ll be safe,” Neville said with a little laugh. “I killed the snake, remember? I’ll take on anyone that even breathes a word against you.”

“My hero,” Draco replied dryly. “What happened to that stuttering boy who was afraid of absolutely everything?”

“He disappeared a long time ago, Draco,” Neville replied mildly. “We just survived a war, remember?”

“I definitely do,” Draco returned. He sighed. “I still get jumpy sometimes when I walk into the drawing room,” he reached out, carefully taking one of Neville’s larger hands in his own. “Getting away from that for a while might be nice.”

“Good,” Neville replied. He couldn’t help the giddy joy that rose up inside of him. “I’m glad. It’ll be amazing, I promise.”

Draco shook his head, but smiled back. “I don’t know if amazing is quite the word I’d use. It sounds like a whole lot of transfiguration work…” he trailed off as Neville reached out and pressed his free hand to the side of Draco’s face. Pale lashes framed his cheeks as he blinked up at him, and then Neville leaned forward.

Draco met his kiss halfway.

-