Chapter 10

Neville glanced out of the window in the dining room, the morning pleasant and sunny, already warm and promising to be warmer as the day wore on. He finished the last of his porridge and considered treating himself to a pastry, as it was his birthday weekend after all. He had a long day of work ahead of him but he and Harry were throwing a joint get-together later and George had kindly offered them his flat to do so.

Neville was looking forward to it, more so for the fact that it would be his first time properly out of the house since his close call with the Nightshade. Draco had kept him in bed for a week and then forbidden him from doing anything but stroll in the gardens and sit in the den watching TV or reading a book. His system had taken a battering and he still wasn't feeling quite back to normal but he was a world away from how he had been.

Draco had stayed with him throughout and shown himself to be surprisingly caring when he wasn't telling Neville off or bossing him around. He hadn't complained once about playing nursemaid, nor had he made Neville feel embarrassed about the times he'd helped him to bathe or had rubbed his back after he'd thrown his guts up. He was more gracious than Neville would have ever imagined him to be and, in the quiet moments of their evenings together, the man's gentle smiles had been as comforting as his help had been.

"Morning," Draco said with a yawn as he sauntered into the dining room, settling in the seat next to Neville's.

"You're late today," Neville said, glancing up at the clock. "Not working?"

"Late shift, Mr Zanetti needs me to close up today."

"You haven't forgotten – "

"I know, I know. I won't miss the party, but I'll probably have to meet you there."

Neville nodded and said, "Here, saved some toast for you. Should be cold enough for your liking."

"Oh thanks," Draco said with a smile, taking the plate and grabbing the butter, starting to scrape it over the stone-cold toast.

"Why eat it cold?" Neville asked and Draco shrugged.

"Tastes better that way. I prefer the butter not to melt."

"Weirdo."

"Says the man who eats jam and marmalade together."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Everything is wrong with that, Neville." He leant back and took a bite, smiling at Neville smugly, before he asked, "Are you sure you're up to working in the greenhouses today?"

Neville rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, matron."

"You're only going to do half a day, right? You'll spend the afternoon doing your essay, won't you?"

"Would you like me to make an Unbreakable Vow?"

"I'm considering it. You're hopeless at looking after yourself."

"Good job you're around then, isn't it?"

"It certainly is."

He left Draco to his breakfast and retreated to the greenhouses. He wasn't able to work at his usual pace and it frustrated him but he'd promised Draco to take it easy, not that he could do much else anyway. He focused on the gentler pursuits of his work and stuck mainly to cataloguing and checking inventory, tending to plants that wouldn't give him a hard time.

He knew that Draco had checked up on things and had made sure that his more delicate projects had been given attention otherwise he'd be returning to greenhouses full of dead things. He was touched that the man would go to such trouble on his behalf and he wanted to do something to show his gratitude. He wasn't sure how he would have coped without the man throughout his illness and he found himself thankful that he hadn't been alone.

Draco had shouldered a great deal of responsibility on his behalf and he was surprised that the man had done so with such grace and temperance. The Draco of old would have exploited the situation fully to his advantage and would have made Neville squirm as he made him pay for all the things he'd done for him. On reflection, the Draco of old wouldn't have helped in the first place. He'd have left Neville's care to the house elves and wouldn't have considered tending to Neville's plants and making sure his work didn't go spiralling down the drain.

In many ways he was the same person Neville remembered; he was snarky and sarcastic, defensive and antagonistic, with an attitude a mile wide but there were obvious changes. Harry had alluded to them once or twice when he'd first learnt that the marriage was to take place but Neville hadn't been in the right frame of mind to really believe him. He was learning those differences now and was appreciating each one that he discovered.

The day passed slowly and with less progress than Neville would have liked but he didn't want to tire himself too much and be unable to enjoy the party later. Neither he nor Harry were particularly bothered by their birthdays but they'd decided to celebrate jointly for the last couple of years and it was nice to spend a summer's evening with all their friends together regardless of birthdays.

He showered and dressed then waited a little longer than was necessary in case Draco made it home in time and they could go together. There was no sign of him, though, so he gave it up for a lost cause and stepped through the floo in George's flat a little after 7.

"There he is," Ron said, sweeping him up in a hug before he had a chance to brush the soot from his clothes. "Happy birthday, mate. Or…for tomorrow anyway."

"Thanks, Ron," Neville said with a smile as he was released.

"Draco not with you?"

"He'll be along soon. He's working late."

"Let me get you a drink. Beer ok?"

"Lovely, cheers."

"Hey Nev!" said Ginny, appearing at his elbow. "How are you feeling now? Ron told me all about your little brush with the Nightshade."

"I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, Gin. It was bloody awful. I'm feeling much better now though, thanks."

"All thanks to Draco, I hear," she said with an amused smile. "Harry says he was quite the attentive spouse."

"Oi, four-eyes. Have you been gossiping again?" Neville called across the room to Harry and received a two-fingered salute and a grin in return. "Bloody old woman," Neville groused. "Yes, Draco did look after me and I'm very grateful to him for it."

"I'll bet you are."

"Oh Gin, stop teasing him," said Hermione as she came to join them, the same glint in her eye that was in Ginny's. "Were you a good patient, Nev?"

"You two are very amusing. Excuse me while I hunt down my drink and ignore you both."

He apprehended Ron with his beer and took a few swigs before he retreated to the kitchen and asked George, "Why do people find my marriage so fascinating?"

"It is fascinating," George replied, rinsing out the empty wine bottles and placing some fresh ones in the cool cupboard. "We're enjoying watching it play out like some kind of Regency drama."

"I'm so glad my life provides so much entertainment," Neville groused, leaning against the cabinets and crossing his arms. "Honestly, if I'm not getting it in the neck for not building something deep and meaningful I'm being smirked at for letting Draco take care of me. I can't bloody win."

"Cool your jets, birthday boy," George said with a laugh. "People are just interested, sometimes it makes them behave like twats."

"Well how would you like it if people stuck their noses into your relationship?"

George turned around to face him with an incredulous expression and said, "Are you kidding? I'm dating Severus bloody Snape, my former teacher, double agent and all-round mad bastard. Yeah…people have really kept their noses out of my business."

Neville grinned and said, "We should form a support group."

"Nev!" came Harry's voice from the living room, and Neville was perturbed by how anxious he sounded. He frowned at George then left the kitchen, stopping in shock when he saw Harry standing with Draco, the latter with a split lip, swollen eye and a torn shirt covered in blood.

"Holy fuck," Neville said, crossing the room. "What happened?" he asked, reaching out and taking Draco's face in his hands as gently as he could.

"I was jumped," Draco said quietly, trying to pull himself away from Neville. "They got me as I was closing up the shop."

"Merlin's teeth! We have to report this, you need to talk to the aurors, get this on file."

"Never mind that now," Harry interjected. "We need to get you to a healer, you look terrible!"

"Yes, yes a healer," Neville agreed. "And then I think you should get in touch with someone, Harry, someone you trust who can come and document this."

"I will, we'll get this taken care of. Draco, come on, we'll get you sorted out. That eye looks bad, you'll have to tell us what they did so we can – "

"Guys!" Ron barked, his voice shockingly commanding. Neville and Harry turned to look at him and he said, "Back off and give him some space."

"But we're just – " Harry began.

"I know, love, but the bloke's just had a huge shock and he looks like he's in a lot of pain. The last thing he needs is you two flapping like this. Draco," he said, his voice turning calm and quiet, "I'm qualified in first aid magic, would you like me to take a look at you?"

"Please," Draco said with a tight nod, his face pale.

"Come on then," Ron said, brushing Harry and Neville gently aside and placing a hand on Draco's back. "George, can we use your bedroom please?"

"Of course, just pay no attention to the sex swing."

Snape glared at him and Ron shuddered, leading Draco out of the living room and shutting the door behind them. Neville let out a breath and looked at Harry, saying, "He looked bad."

Harry nodded, looking as worried as Neville felt. "I know. Poor guy. He's in good hands with Ron though, he came out top of the first aid training."

"Good…that's good."

"Mr Longbottom," came Snape's voice over his shoulder and Neville turned to face the man.

"Sir? Severus," he corrected himself, never quite getting used to the informality.

"Can you tell me…is this…an isolated incident?"

"With Draco you mean?" Snape nodded and Neville said, "It's the first I've seen him actually injured but…well you saw what happened at that charity event a few months back and we were attacked in Diagon too. I wouldn't be surprised if there have been more but…well…he keeps these things to himself."

"I see. Thank you."

Snape inclined his head and moved back to George, his expression sombre as he said something quiet to the man. Neville knew the man cared for Draco, that he worried for his safety and wellbeing and had done for years. He was glad that Draco had someone like Snape fighting his corner; after tonight it looked as though he'd need all the help he could get.

The next fifteen minutes were fraught and Neville and Harry stood together while the others all began mingling again. They said nothing but the looks they exchanged told Neville that Harry was as worried as he was. Snape looked no happier than they did and he continued to speak to George quietly, shaking his head and glancing back to the bedroom every now and again.

When the door to George's room finally did open, Neville did his best not to launch himself right at Draco as he walked through. Ron stood beside the man, his hand in the small of Draco's back and his manner surprisingly gentle. Draco looked a damn sight better, although the swelling in his face was still discernible and his shirt, although now free of blood, was still ripped.

"Are you ok?" Neville him as he and Ron joined them.

"I'm fine," Draco said quietly. "Ron's a very good healer. Thank you," he said with a nod to Ron.

"Don't mention it, happy to help. Why don't I go and get you a drink? Something strong?"

"God, yes please."

Ron gave him a gentle clap on the shoulder and moved into the kitchen while Harry and Neville hovered uncertainly. Draco looked between them and said with a sigh, "I'm not going to disappear in a puff of smoke if you take your eyes off me."

"What?" Harry said innocently. "I'm just…just checking."

"To see if I've sprouted horns?"

"Draco – "

"Harry, I'm fine. They gave me a busted face and a couple of cracked ribs but I'll live."

Neville's pulse quickened on hearing that Draco had sustained broken bones but he tried to keep his face neutral and not flap with worry the way he actually wanted to. He had no idea what his place was in all of this and it was making his head spin. He was married to the man but it wasn't a normal marriage, he didn't have the same kind rights that other people did.

If it were Harry who had been injured, Ron would be there to comfort him, to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him close. He and Draco weren't all that touchy-feely at the best of times and they didn't have a whole lot of physical contact outside of sex. Still, it didn't stop Neville from wanting to reach out and touch the man, to show that he was worried, to make Draco feel safe.

The rest of the party had a somewhat muted feel to it. Conversation flowed easily and the usual nonsense ensued but Neville really just wanted to take Draco home and give him the chance to recover from his ordeal in peace and quiet. He knew if he mooted the idea it would be shot down in flames and so he tried to stay as close as possible to Draco without irritating him. His fingers itched to touch him, to reach out and wrap a protective arm around his waist but he wasn't sure how it would go down and so refrained from doing so.

Draco, for his part, was as charming as he was capable of being. He spoke with everyone, migrating from conversation to conversation with ease. Neville tried to give him space but made sure to be in his general vicinity whenever he moved from group to group and noticed that both Snape and Harry were doing the same. It was a comfort that they were as worried as he was but it didn't mean he had any clue how to handle the situation.

At around 10 o' clock, Draco excused himself from a lively conversation with Ginny and Seamus and said something quietly to Harry then came to stand next to Neville. "I think I'll head home," he said, knocking back the last of his drink.

"Ok, I'll come with you."

"I don't need a chaperone. Stay, enjoy the rest of the party."

"I'd really rather come with you. I'm…tired…still not fully over the Nightshade illness…you know?"

Draco gave him a sceptical look but nodded resignedly, nevertheless. Neville gave a quick wave to Harry then followed Draco through the floo back to the manor. Still feeling awkward and not knowing how to make the situation better, he cleared his throat and said, "I'm going to make a cuppa. Fancy one?"

"Sure," Draco said with a sigh and together they made their way to the kitchen.

Draco took a seat at the table and Neville lit the kettle with his wand then set about arranging the tea things. Draco traced patterns on the table with his finger and Neville's eyes went to the slight swell of the man's lip and the delicate way he was holding himself.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked, surprising himself with the question.

He'd clearly surprised Draco too; the man looked up at with narrowed eyes and a guarded expression, saying, "What are you talking about?"

"There's something about this, something that's different. I don't know what it is but I can sense it."

Draco shook his head. "Nothing, leave it alone."

Neville slid into the seat opposite and said, "Draco, talk to me. I can't help if you won't tell me what happened."

"Who says I need your help?" Draco asked, a defiant tilt to his chin. "I didn't ask for it."

"And yet here I am."

"Neville, leave it."

The kettle whistled and Neville got up to fix their tea, wondering how he was supposed to get information out of someone as closed off as Draco. He sorted the tray out and brought it back to the table, spooning a hefty amount of sugar into Draco's cup and pouring the tea before he added the milk. Shaken or not, Draco would have his hide if he added the milk first.

"Thanks," Draco said, accepting the tea. He stared down into it for a moment before he said, "Neville, stop looking at me."

"You're the only other person here. Who else should I look at?"

Draco looked up at him with a reproachful glare and said, "Are you going to keep this up until I talk?"

Neville shrugged. "Possibly. I've been told I'm quite stubborn."

"No kidding," Draco said with a snort. He blew out a breath and leant back in his chair, folding his arms then wincing when his sore ribs protested the movement. "I recognised them."

"What?"

"The people who jumped me," Draco said quietly. "I knew them."

"Shit," Neville breathed. "Who were they?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair then traced the rim of his cup with his finger, the turmoil evident in his expression. "Friends of my father's," he said eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" Neville asked, horrified. "Draco…are you sure?"

Draco nodded. "They were…lackeys of his…back in the day. Besides, even if I hadn't recognised them, the little message they gave me as they kicked the shit out of me left me in little doubt."

"What message?" Neville asked, not sure he wanted to know.

His jaw clenched and his eyes red-rimmed with tears he wouldn't let fall, Draco whispered, "Your father sends his love."

"Holy fuck, Draco," Neville said, feeling the bile rise in this throat. "You have to report this."

"I don't have to do anything," Draco said, his eyes flashing. "It's my business and I'll deal with it however I see fit."

"Fine," Neville said, knowing not to push but horrified at the thought that Lucius might get away with it. "But from now on I'll be coming to pick you up when you have to lock the shop up."

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco scoffed, getting to his feet.

"I'm serious," Neville said, getting up too. "I'm not leaving you on your own to get attacked again."

"I'll be on the lookout in future. Now that I know it could happen I'll – "

"Draco, I'm not arguing about this. I'm coming to pick you up, end of discussion."

"You're infuriating," Draco huffed.

"Well, so are you," Neville returned. "If you think for one minute that I'm just going to leave you to get your head kicked in then you're insane."

"And why would you care? Hm?" Draco asked, his manner becoming antagonistic.

Determined not to rise to it, Neville took a deep breath and said, "If you really believe that I don't care about you then you're an even bigger fool than I thought. Finish your tea and get some sleep, you look like you need it."

Draco's expression turned calculating and Neville steeled himself against it immediately. He knew how Draco liked to bite back when wounded but he wasn't about to prop that behaviour up, no matter how much Draco thought he might need it.

"You know, they broke your present in the fracas. I'm afraid I have nothing to offer you as a gift."

"It doesn't matter," Neville said levelly.

"Oh I think it does. You have to have something after all." He stepped closer and placed a hand on Neville's chest, looking up at him through his lashes with an expression Neville knew all too well. "Come on, Neville. Fancy giving me a seeing to over the kitchen table?"

Slowly, Neville placed his hand over Draco's own and, holding it close to his chest, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "With broken ribs? I don't think so."

"Shame," Draco said, trying to tug his hand away, but Neville held it firmly in his own.

"Draco…" he began, unsure of what it was he was trying to say. "There's…there's more between us than just sex."

"Oh really?" Draco asked mockingly but the expression wasn't totally believable.

"Don't you think so?" Neville asked, continuing to hold Draco's hand gently. "Would you have looked after me when I was sick otherwise? Would I…would I enjoy your company when we…when aren't shagging each other senseless?"

He felt his cheeks flush and Draco blinked up at him, clearly nonplussed. At a loss for anything further to say and unable to think clearly enough to make his point, Neville brought Draco's hand up to his lips and kissed his knuckles softly.

"Get some rest. Let those ribs heal, hm?"

Resisting the urge to kiss him properly, Neville let go of the man's hand and gave him a strained smile before he left the kitchen and headed up to his bedroom. He didn't sleep well and gave it up as a lost cause at around 5 in the morning. He sat up in bed and read, confused about what was going on his life and how he was supposed to handle it.

Forefront in his mind was the fact that Draco was certain his own father had been the attack on him the previous night. He wouldn't put anything past Lucius, pernicious viper that he was, but to orchestrate an attack on his own son was lower than Neville had imagined he would stoop. He had decided to wait until Draco was out of the house before he did anything but, as it turned out, Draco had already left by the time Neville was showered and dressed.

Weighing up his options, he finally made up his mind and knelt in front of the fire in the den and fire-called George. The man's smiling face appeared in the flames as he said, "Morning, Nev. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, George. Um…is Snape still there? Assuming…assuming he stayed the night…that is," Neville bumbled, embarrassing himself.

George grinned and said, "Yes, he's still here. We had a wicked night of debauchery, don't you know?"

"George," Neville groaned. "Could you please ask him if he'd mind if I came through for a word?"

George's head disappeared for a moment then reappeared as he said, "Come on through, mate."

Neville stepped out of the fireplace in George's living room and followed the man into the kitchen, where Snape was sitting at the table with a coffee and the morning paper.

"Sorry to disrupt your morning," Neville said as Snape looked up.

"No need to apologise. You saved me from this one's mad ramblings," Snape said, nodding at George as he folded the paper.

"I resent that," George said as he retrieved his plate of toast. "I was making some excellent points about – "

"What was it you wanted, Neville?" Snape asked, cutting George off and earning himself a glare in the process.

"I can leave you to it?" George said around a mouthful of toast but Neville dismissed the offer.

"When we got home last night…" he began, wondering if he was doing the right thing, "Draco…Draco said he thought Lucius had been behind the attack on him."

Snape frowned. "Was he certain?"

Neville nodded and said, "He recognised the men as his father's former lackeys…not to mention they…they told him his father sent his love."

"Fuck," Snape breathed, Neville suddenly struck with the urge to giggle at hearing a former teacher swear. "I was worried this would happen. Lucius always had a long reach, one that even Azkaban couldn't halt."

"I don't know what to do about it. I tried to convince him to report it but he refused. He's so stubborn…you know what he's like."

"I do indeed, but Lucius clearly thinks feels that retribution of some kind is in order and I doubt very much he'll be swayed from that train of thought. I'd wager that Draco was in danger."

"What do we do? If Draco won't go to the aurors and bloody Azkaban itself won't stop Lucius…what are the options?"

Snape took a sip of his coffee and leant back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "If I were you," he said, folding his arms, "I'd speak to Narcissa."

"Narcissa?" Neville echoed, incredulous.

"She wields more power and influence than anyone would care to acknowledge. While all the other Death Eater families were crippled by fines and levies after the war she managed to retain her status and most of her wealth. Marrying Draco off to you was a highly calculated move but if the life debt hadn't existed she would have found another way to ensure the family's fortunes. If you let her know that there's a real and present threat to Draco she'll move hell and high water to stop it."

"Yes," Neville said, considering Snape's words, "yes you're right. There's nothing that woman wouldn't do to protect herself and Draco. Will it matter that it's Lucius behind this? Will it affect how she views it?"

Snape shook his head. "There's no love lost between those two, no matter what yarns she might have spun back in the day. It was always a business arrangement. Narcissa needed to restore the fortunes that the Blacks had lost over the years, especially as the primary heir left it all to Harry, and Lucius wanted an heir. Believe me, she's shed no tears for him since he's been in Azkaban."

"That I believe," Neville said with a shudder. "Well…I can't say I relish the thought of speaking to Narcissa but if that's what it takes to make Draco safe then so be it."

"Wow," George said, filching Snape's coffee and taking a sip. "Sounds a lot like you care about the bugger, mate."

Neville sighed. "Of course I care about him. I just wish the dense sod would realise that."

AN: Poor old Draco, eh? I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know.