author's note: {this story sprouted from the journey my imagination went on after having come across photo's of the guy who played Neville Longbottom, and the transformation he seems to have undergone during teenage... a fine looking chap he is now, and an ideal partner for someone in my universe...}


1.

The bed still feels warm, where ten minutes ago there was a body to snuggle up to. Draco's hand slides over the spot under the duvet, remembering fondly the night that passed, when he had found himself making love to the man he least expected to ever have make love to. But then life has weird ways of throwing you off guard, he noticed more than once before last night.

Last night, when he declared his feelings, for the first time meaning every syllable of the words that described them. It took him by surprise, those feelings first of all, and the need to tell them to this guy, this lovely, beautiful, sweet, funny, brave, wonderfully sexy guy. Draco feels fuzzy inside just thinking back to the night, and a daft smile takes over his face. Are they bloody butterflies in his stomach?! Yup, they sure are, and he knows they'll hang around for a while to come yet.


some months earlier
On the mantelpiece, leaning against a small statue of a dragon, a piece of paper twinkled away, and Draco was getting a tad annoyed at its blatant jolliness. For the past week, to be precise, as it arrived a day after he'd come back from a weekend at his mother's place, and it had taken him all that time to open the thing up, as he'd recognised the letters on the red wax seal on the back. They were H and P, and in his memory that could only mean it came from Harry Potter. And Merlin only knew why.

A wedding, it turned out after he opened the parchment carefully and was met with forty fluttering white paper butterflies, a few flying in his face, the rest erratically filing the space of his living room and making a strange flapping noise as they found their way out of the nearest window. Draco saw them go, and then turned his attention to the writing in the parchment, which had swirly letters proclaiming the forthcoming happy event.

Mr Harry Potter and Ms Ginny Weasley

together with their families

request with pleasure the company of

Draco Malfoy and guest

to celebrate their wedding.

This will take place on June 23rd,

at the Diggory Estate

rsvp

He was glad he was given the option to cop out, bewildered as he was at the notion as to why he was asked in the first place, then remembered a pleasant conversation they had a while back, at a party of a mutual colleague, and he supposed that somewhere in the thinking of the Gryffindor Glory Boy was the idea that Draco Malfoy should be invited to the wedding of the century… As a kind of way to put things right, maybe? Gloss over the past? How do these people think? 'And guest…' what guest?! Oh, partner… If he'd had one, of course… Draco cringed a little. Harry Potter had assumed that there was a guest to bring, obviously ignorant to the fact that he hadn't dated anyone (seriously) for years. Would one night stands count? Draco grinned.

He'd placed the card back on his mantelpiece, and tried hard to forget about it. There was plenty to get on with at his work, as well as his mother who'd had a nervous breakdown, and soon the card was twinkling away mostly unnoticed, gathering dust, and the whole wedding was consigned to a crevice of his mind. Until he bumped into Ron Weasley – of all people – in Diagon Alley, where he was hoping to find a book that might cheer his mother up. She had been lonely and sad since his dad had been in Azkaban, and he'd done his best to make her feel better for years, but now it seemed she was ready to slip into a kind of lethargy, one that scared the hell out of him. Consumed with a steely determination he was browsing the Self-Help section of Flourish & Blotts, which was pretty vast, and was unaware of others hovering around in the same section. While walking backwards, looking sideways at the titles on the backs of the books, he nudged the back of someone else, and when he looked around to apologise, he recognised the ginger mop of Weasley, who had a similar surprised look on his face.

'Oh hi,' he stumbled, smiling awkwardly. 'Sorry I… um…'

'That's okay, don't worry mate,' Weasley answered, grinning his usual inane grin, and stuck his hand out. 'You here on your own?'

'Yeah, looking for a book for my mother. She could do with something uplifting. Thought I might find something here…'

'Oh, right... Have you seen Luna's book yet?' Weasley proffered, pointing towards the novels, 'Apparently very cheerful, I've been told… Hermione swears by it…'

Great, a book condoned by Granger. Draco shook his head, then said, 'Thanks, I'll have a look later.'

'How is your mum now? Is your dad still…'

'Azkaban? Yup… Best place for him, really…' Draco said, while glazing over slightly.

'Oh, sorry, I didn't know… I know you testified against him… Are you…?'

'Not talking? Pretty much… My mother is still slightly depressed, not over my father, more the past twenty years that have taken their toll… There's only so much a person can take…' he produced a watery smile, then changed tacks, 'You okay? Still working as an Auror?'

'Yeah, with Harry and a few of the other guys from our year. Working out good, really. Lots of work to do… You?'

'Working at the department of Mysteries. Plenty to do there too,' he grinned. 'Amazing what's still left from the war…'

'God, yeah… We still find spells and curses that have been set years ago… Even before either of us were born…'

'Frightening, when you think of it…' Draco said thoughtful. 'Well, it'll keep us in work for a while to come, eh? What are you looking for here?'

'Looking for a gift, for Harry and Ginny's wedding.' Weasley went on.

'Oh, yeah, that's coming up soon, isn't it?' Draco remembered.

'I heard he invited you? Are you going?' the ginger carried on.

'Not sure yet… I haven't decided to be honest…' Draco smiled. God, he'd forgotten all about it… Probably too late if he even wanted to cancel. 'Day after tomorrow, isn't it?'

Weasley nodded, then pointed towards a couple that were standing a bit further away, browsing the fairy cards. He recognised the form of Luna Lovegood easily, as she still dressed like she had three wardrobes to choose from, none of them in any way related to each other. The guy was not someone he knew. Good looking, but unfamiliar.

'Should go back to my company, we were going to have some lunch if I was ready here,' Weasley smiled. 'Come and say hello!'

Fuck, Draco thought. Now I'm stuck with a load of bloody Gryffindors in a bookshop… But before he was able to think of an excuse, the couple had spotted him and came towards them beaming like the sun.

'Hi Draco,' the girl lilted in her usual Irish accent. 'How nice to see you here!'

He swore she was about to leap around his neck for a hug, but he managed to convey his discomfort with this notion, and she averted her leap into a handshake, and all was well.

'Hey,' said the guy he didn't know, in a deep voice. He also smiled very coyly, as if there had been history between them, but Draco couldn't think of what to save his life.

'Draco, Luna, and Neville…' Weasley spoke. At that point Draco froze.

Neville?! Neville Longbottom?! What the fuck?! The guy that was standing in front of him, all athletic body and gorgeous smiles was Neville 'Podgeface' Longbottom?! What the hell happened to him after the war?!

No way…

'Hi…' eventually escaped his mouth, his astonishment hardly concealed. 'Nice to see you…'

Very nice to see you…

'You're looking well,' declared the angels in heaven.

Not as well as some of us here…

'Thanks… You too…'

Please let the ground swallow me up, please apparate me away from here, please, please…

'Well, we're off, nice to have spoken to you, Malfoy. Maybe see you on Saturday?' Weasley said, trying to catch his eye.

'Yeah…' Draco said. And watched the threesome leave the bookshop in a haze, his eyes on the body of a miraculously transformed former classmate, not really being aware of where he was and what he was doing there. 'Maybe…'

He never found a book for his mother, didn't look at Luna Lovegood's novel about nifflers and wrackspurts. In the end he settled for a bunch of twinkling roses, and made his way to his families' residence, where he spent the evening talking to his mother (as opposed to talking with her) and going for a walk around the estate with her, then Floo-ing himself back to his place (a bright white house, built in the 1930's, right by the ocean, on the west of Scotland) and going over some reports that had to be finished the day before, after which he fell into a restless sleep.

The following day was a fairly usual Friday: tidying up loose ends of the week before, chatting with his colleagues about plans for the weekend (three were married with kids and mentioned Quidditch matches and unicorn riding lessons, another was a staunch bachelor and she was off to meet her parents in Scotland, and then there was Elaine from admin, who had only two weeks ago stopped making a pass at Draco, after she'd seen him snog the face off on of the pretty guys from another department in the Documents Destruction Room when they thought they were going to be alone and a quick grope would go by unnoticed. He had told her many times before that he was gay, but she wasn't convinced by his words. His actions appeared to be a different matter altogether. She said she'd be going to Harry Potter's wedding, as her brother was the official wedding photographer and he'd sneaked her in as his assistant. Apparently she'd had a crush on Potter since she was six…) and getting in some shopping from the supermarket in the Muggle village he lived near.

Less usual was the choosing of the outfit he was going to wear the next day. How formal was this do going to be? There were Weasleys involved, so it was never going to be ultra-formal (as the wedding of one of his distant cousins, a few years before, was, and he felt quite underdressed in his robes and shiny black shoes, compared to the way his uncles and cousins were turned out). He decided it was very likely not going to be anything as strict as a Malfoy-do, so he settled for his dark green, velvet suit, those shiny shoes and a black shirt and tie. He knew how handsome he looked with that shirt, and god knows who he might pull there, in a room full of Gryffindors, and probably a few Ravenclaws thrown in for good measure. Maybe it wasn't too late to ask Blaise to be his 'guest'…

The thought of being stuck in a hall full of his former rivals suddenly struck him as being fairly suicidal… What if some hadn't forgiven him, like Potter and Weasley had? What if they still carried a grudge towards him, over what his family had done in the past, how ruthless he himself had defended Lord Voldemort's beliefs and notions about a world without half-bloods or Muggle-born wizards in it…? He was still very surprised that Potter had forgiven him, all those years ago, after the trials. And that Weasley, who he had been so rotten to for so long, seemed to let bygones be bygones, and talked to him like they were mates, as he had in Flourish & Blotts. And how Lovegood was pleasant to him, even wanted to hug him – what had he done to deserve that? Only because he testified against his father, and the other Death Eaters? Was that enough to earn their respect, their trust? And the way Longbottom…

Shit… Neville Longbottom… How he appeared to moon over him, like a schoolgirl… What would Lovegood have thought of that then? Her being his girlfriend. Wife. Whatever…

He fell asleep with thoughts of Longbottom slowly running along the beach near his house, in nothing more than a pair of shorts, as the spray of the sea moistened his body and he looked absolutely gorgeous in the sinking evening sun…

The Saturday of the wedding came and Draco managed to oversleep, giving him a lot less time than he would've liked to get ready. The wedding was in Devon, on the Diggory estate, which was floo-able, so he knew he would probably be okay. He had a quick breakfast, made sure he had the present (the small good-luck charm dragon statue that his aunt Lorelei made and he had delivered the day before) ready to take with him, and checked to see in the mirror if he indeed looked as stunning as he wished to, without of course overshadowing the bride and groom.

Oh yeah, the bride and groom… Almost forgot about them… Potter was excited that last time he spoke to him, and he looked it too. In a nice way, the way Potter always looked when he'd won at Quidditch, or some other victory at Hogwarts. Sweet, is what he looked, Draco thought. Potter looked sweet. There was a time when he almost fancied him, but hat never really came to anything. He never got beyond sweet, as opposed to someone like Oliver Woods, or Cedric Diggory, or that Russian bloke who came over for the Tri-Wizards Tournament… Fantastic at kissing as well, that Russian bloke… Draco found himself getting hot under the collar, and quickly thought of ways to calm himself down.


The Diggory estate was beautifully done up. There were flowers everywhere, Draco noticed as soon as he walked out of the Floo fireplace and imagined himself in a flower garden, when he was in fact in the hallway, and was met by two lilac coloured fairies, who escorted him to his seat in the beautiful garden, quite close to the front. He was sat next to two old ladies in their best frocks (one was bright purple, and the other emerald green, and both sported real flowers on the edges, held there by hundreds of tiny butterflies, all in various shades of green or purple). They nodded sweetly to Draco, and carried on their conversation. Draco had time to look around, see if there were any other Slytherins in the crowd, but saw nobody familiar. The chairs next to him were empty, until two fairies ushered some more guests his way, and Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom took their seats, greeting him first, then noticing the people in front of them and starting a loud chat about being late and the traffic in the Floo system being so busy, and Draco closed his eyes for a second to stop Lovegood's voice from getting on his nerves. Also the thought of Longbottom sitting there, wearing more than the shorts he dreamed him in last night, but still looking spectacular, was a bit much for him to take.

He was glad the service started, so that his neighbour would have to be quiet, and enjoyed the somewhat eccentric way in which it was conducted. He had been to a few weddings so far, his family being fairly traditional, and they all were almost identical, with the white doves, the choirs, the rings lowered by designated pixies, the band that tied them brought by unicorns. It was almost getting boring, but this wedding was different. There was no choir but a fiddler and Ginny Weasley's sister in law (as he was informed by Luna) who had a wonderful voice, the wedding-band was brought by a Hippogriff, and there wasn't a white dove in sight. He was clutching his handkerchief by the end, and was sniffing away in unison with the two ladies on his right, and Lovegood. And Longbottom, who was holding Lovegood's hand.

Draco talked to many people in the huge garden. He felt okay, nobody made him feel unwelcome, and the raspberry wine was delicious. He sat down under the rhododendron near the lake to think about the day, after he'd spoken to Potter (who was over the moon with excitement) and Mrs Potter (who was her usual chilled self) and congratulated them on their marriage. Was he thinking of marriage himself, Potter asked him. No, he said, obviously not… Nobody to marry to, for a start… Shame, Potter said. It's nice to find someone special in your life… Yeah, Draco said, and smiled. It probably is.

He almost didn't notice that the seat next to him was taken. Deep in thought, the world was gone for a minute, and when a voice started talking, Draco almost jumped out of his skin.

'Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you,' said the deep voice.

Draco looked sideways, and recognised Longbottom, with a glass of wine in his hand. 'Oh, hey. No, it's okay… I was just thinking…'

'Nice wedding, this… Mr Diggory and Mr Weasley did a great job getting it to look like this…'

'Yeah, they did… Nice place to start with though…' Draco said, avoiding his company's eyes, looking around the garden, watching multicoloured dragonflies hover over the water of the lake..

'Shame Cedric can't be here to enjoy it…'

'Yeah… Nice guy…' Draco saw the figure of the now deceased boy loom for a bit, and snapped himself out of it. 'Your wedding like this too?'

'My wedding?' Longbottom looked at Draco curiously. 'I'm not married…'

'Oh? I thought you and Luna…' Draco found himself flush. 'She's just your girlfriend then?'

'Luna?' he laughed now, out loud. 'We're only good friends… I'm not… I don't… I like guys…'

'Ah… I see.' Draco looked straight ahead. 'Me too…'

'I know…'

Draco now flicked his head to the side, staring at Longbottom, who was smiling.

'I've always known… Never liked you much, but I sensed that you were gay… I knew I was since I was twelve… Cos of Cedric…'

'You as well?!'

'Everybody fancied Cedric…' Neville sniggered. 'Mostly the girls, but I've seen many guys swoon over him… Even Harry… He was heartbroken when he died… That's why I was surprised that the wedding was going to be held here. I know that was mainly Mr and Mrs Weasley's decision, but still…'

'Harry Potter fancied Cedric Diggory?!' Draco blurted out.

'Shh! Keep your voice down,' Longbottom insisted, placing a hand on Draco's, and smiling carefully.

'Who'd have thought… The Golden Boy fancies boys…'

'Don't think he fancies boys, just Cedric.'

Draco giggled for a bit, and saw Longbottom snigger as well. The raspberry wine must've been kicking in. 'Still… Funny though…'

They talked jobs and life these days for a while, and he found out that Neville was teaching herbology at Hogwarts, as well as researching rare plants on the Irish mainland. He also lived alone, after having had a relationship with someone he met at teaching college which had gone sour, and spent most weekends going for long walks.

'Nice of you to come here, Draco. I think the wizard community has come a long way since the trials, and I know loads of people doubted you and your family for a long time, but I never did…' Neville's voice had gone down a couple of notches. 'I always knew you would come around…'

'Yeah right… After what I've done?' Draco looked to his side, and saw Neville blush. It looked beyond charming… It looked hot… 'I'm still amazed that his lot haven't lynched me by now…' His own voice had gone down a few notches.

'You know in the war, at Hogwarts, I was so fired up, so ready to knock someone's block off, which is completely not like me, and then I saw you at the end, with your family, and your doubt, your disgust with it all, and I knew I had been right… And I hated myself for knowing that… That I was not in line with the Dumbledore Army, with the party-line… That I would've defended you…'

'You would?' Draco was whispering now.

'With my life…'

'Shit…'

'I know…'

Draco moved his hand towards Neville's, who pulled his back, and with a wrought smile strode off towards the drinks table, disappearing in the throngs of dancing guests.