Title: Going Soft

Word Count: 1,525

Rating: Pg-13 for now

Authors Notes: This came to me recently, during my morning routine and I had to start writing it. This is to be rated heavier in later chapters and ummm well, enjoy!

Week 2:

Draco has a problem; a staring problem to be precise. Although if he wanted to be perfectly honest, staring was only part of this problem…no it was bigger than staring; it was an obsession.

After a while, Draco figured that he would just get over it; that he would stop staring. But Draco couldn't stop staring. He just couldn't. And after the first week, he found that the only thing that he liked more than the baby fat on his face was his blush. He looked so…soft.

And really, Draco didn't know what was worse: the fact that his current – dare he say it – obsession was so undeniably accident prone, or that he was – again, this realization was troubling – a Gryffindor.

Draco's current problem, although there may be two or three more that he has yet to identify, is how to tell him. Because the way that he usually goes about this kind of thing is very….well, blunt, for lack of a better term. Draco knew how to deal with Zabini. He just strode right up to him one day in an abandoned corridor and kissed him. Draco knew how to deal with everyone he'd ever been with…because they were all Slytherins. But Neville is, as he came to terms with earlier, a Gryffindor. And besides that, from what Draco gathered from their past encounters, Neville was soft, sensitive…adorable. Not like any of the other Gryffindors that had invaded some of his fantasies on occasion. Draco wasn't soft and he certainly wasn't what he'd refer to as sensitive, except, maybe, in bed. Then what? How? Draco needed a plan, but hadn't the faintest idea where to begin. So, early into week two, Draco decided that he would swallow his pride (which, for Draco was a very big step) and ask his mentor. The man who seemed to know it all, the one person that Draco respected more, even, than the Dark Lord. Draco would ask Severus Snape.

D/N

So Wednesday after potions class, Draco stayed behind, taking much longer to clean out his cauldron than the rest of the class and fidgeting with his shoulder bag. When the dungeon had completely emptied with the exception of him, of course, and professor Snape, Draco made his move.

"Professor!" Draco called. Snape lifted his head slightly from his busy scribbling, and gave a noncommittal groan. Draco sat across from him. "Well, Professor…I have this problem and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to give me a few pointers." Draco ventured. "I only hope that this isn't about what I think it's about…or more to the point, who I think it's about", Snape drawled lazily. "Wha- Who do you mean?" Draco flinched. He had always kept his emotions at bay. Merlin, had he really been staring that hard?

"What I mean is your almost obsessive need to stare holes into the back of his head." At this Snape flicked his wand slightly. Was he really being that obvious? It's not as if Draco wears his heart on his sleeve, in fact, it's quite the opposite. So, then, how was Severus sure that he wasn't just daydreaming in Neville's general direction? Snape broke the silence then with a small chuckle. "Daydreaming in his general direction, indeed. You drool, Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco kept his features as stony as ever. "Right. Well therein lies the problem. I've never actually….courted someone of his type." Draco paused, but Snape was silent, enjoying an excuse to actually hear his student plead for his help. When Snape said nothing, Draco continued, "And I need your … assistance". The corners of the potions master's mouth twitched slightly. "Of course," was his reply.

D/N

That night, Draco lay awake in bed, going over his conversation with Severus again. It baffled Draco that in that hour, Snape had never actually told him what the best way to deal with a boy like Neville would be. He only hinted…sort of. He would say things like, "he is a peculiar specimen, indeed. He is an expert at Herbology, the basis of potions, but can't seem to grasp the actual potion making." And then add some off-hand comment later after discussing the below-average grades of his interest, "he may need some extra help in the future." Surely Snape didn't mean for Draco to tutor Longbottom? It was absurd! Why Snape would want Draco to waste such an ungodly amount of his time talking to the boy with no actual physical contact was beyond him; because, Draco was sure that after he had Longbottom, he would be freed from this heinous spell. Of this much he was certain.

Draco laid up half the night thinking of easier, more to the point solutions to his problem. When he could think of nothing more, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

D/N

Draco awoke Thursday morning with the familiar feeling of sweat and the smell of sex. Ever since third year his body had been betraying him on a weekly basis, but never to such an extent. He felt as if he needed another nap! Draco grabbed the wand off of his bedside table and with a muttered 'scourgify' he ran, unnoticed, to the showers.

'Today is the day!' he thought to himself as he brushed his perfectly white teeth. Spit. Draco stared long and hard into the mirror for any sign of imperfections, ran a brush through his hair an extra one hundred times, grabbed his sack, and headed to the Great Hall. He didn't wait for Crabbe or Goyle, preferring to be alone with his thoughts before he was to set any plan into motion. On his way, he saw Potter, Weasel, Granger, and….and Neville.

Draco ran into a suit of armor.

Luckily, this had gone unnoticed by the boy-who-he-hated and company. Slightly unnerved, but not derailed, Draco headed back to the Slytherin dormitories to fix his hair and put on some unwrinkled robes.

By the time that he was ready to try again, breakfast was almost over and he had barely made it to the greenhouses on time for Herbology. Draco put on his gloves and readied himself for today's task, not once taking his eyes from that blushing beauty. 'Must it come down to this?' Draco thought as he went over his exact speech in his head. Neville had recently developed a way to completely mute Draco. Truth be told, all he had to do was look him directly in the eye and Draco was useless. He had decided the night before that it would be wise to memorize a basic outline of dialogue before advancing on Neville, for fear of looking worse off than he was.

After class was dismissed, Draco packed quickly and walked out of the greenhouses, unaccompanied, closely following Neville. He had revealed his problem to Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy last night and they all agreed (after the laughing died down) that for Draco to get what he wanted, it would be best if they weren't flanking him for the next few days. Draco made sure that those Super Friends - or whatever they were called these days – were no where in sight before making his move.

"Hullo, Longbottom." Draco tried to sound as pleasant as possible. This threw Neville off. "Er…hi?" he tried, blushing to his full extent. Draco was mesmerized. "I was talking to Professor Snape yesterday and I discovered something that could benefit the both of us - if you were interested." Neville simply nodded. "You, as most know, are doing quite poorly in Potions." Draco continued.

"If you came to tell h-how b-b-b-bad I am at potions, don't b-bother. Everyone knows." Neville chose to stare at his feet just then. "That's not it at all." Draco hurried. "You're looking for a career in Herbology, correct? And Potions is a critical aspect of Herbology, right? And I am the second best at Potions in our class. Aaaannnd I happen to be in the market for a Potions student for extra tutoring." Draco finished, his heart pounding.

Neville looked a bit brighter at this, and Draco melted. "You mean, you'd help me? W-w-wait! What's the catch, Malfoy? Is this some kind of joke?"

Draco cursed himself inwardly. He couldn't ruin his chance to be alone with the Gryffindor, he just couldn't! "No catch. Tutoring just happens to show… leadership traits on your records and would be perfect for the…the finishing school that father wants me to attend after we get out of this dump." Draco tried his best to remain cool. There. That wasn't so hard, and Neville even looked convinced!

"Fine."

Draco's heart leapt. Twice. "Gre- good. Meet me in the potions room at eight tonight, and don't be late," he barked.

Draco thought that the way Neville stuttered around him had to be his new favorite thing.

D/N

For the rest of the day, Draco couldn't seem to stop smiling to himself. To the ordinary passer by this might have been seen as some kind of inside joke, but someone knew better.