Chapter 11

The next couple of days passed in a strange kind of haze. Draco was avoiding him, of that he was certain, and Neville didn't know how best to approach the situation. He wanted the man to talk to him, to confide in him, but it didn't seem likely and Neville didn't know what to do. He was horrified to think that Lucius could be responsible for such a vicious attack on his own son and Neville couldn't get the image out of his mind of Draco turning up at George's beaten and bloodied.

He was still carrying himself gingerly, his broken ribs causing him pain, and, whether he admitted it or not, he was badly shaken by what had happened. Neville just wanted to sit with him take his mind off things, to curl up in the den in front of a daft TV programme or to sit out in the sunshine in the gardens and let the man know that he didn't have to go through it alone.

They'd had no time together, though and Draco was either avoiding him completely or doing his best to be overtly sexual whenever he did see him. It was bewildering and perturbing; it was as if the man was going out of his way to disprove Neville's argument that there was more between them than just sex, to prove that, if they weren't shagging each other, they had nothing in common, nothing that brought them together.

Maybe he was right; maybe all they did have was sex and Neville was trying to belabour a point that held no water. He didn't want to give in to that way of thinking, though. He didn't want their marriage to just be about sex, he didn't want to spend the next few decades of his life with someone he had no more of a connection with than a stranger in a bar.

"You could just talk to him, of course," Harry said as they sat sharing coffee and cake in a muggle café not too far from the ministry.

"Oh yeah, because it's just that easy," Neville replied, rolling his eyes. "You know what he's like. He's a defensive bastard at the best of times; this attack's just made him retreat further behind his walls."

"I wish I could get him to report it. Lucius shouldn't be allowed to get away with it."

"He won't," Neville said firmly. "I'll talk to Narcissa, she'll handle it."

Harry snorted. "You're putting an awful lot of faith in that woman. You really think she'll help?"

"I don't pretend to understand Narcissa's motives or her reasoning but one thing I know for certain is that Draco is the most important thing to her. If she thinks he's under threat and she can do something about it…she'll stop at nothing."

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh. "You're right. I just don't envy you having to wrangle with her."

"At least we'll be on the same side."

"There's a thought."

Harry took a bite of the doorstop-sized piece of Victoria sponge he'd ordered and said, "How is he? In himself, I mean?"

Neville shrugged. "It's knocked him for six, and not just physically. He's pretending like he's fine, of course, but I know he isn't."

"He's a tricky sod, no two ways about it."

"It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the fact…" Neville trailed off and stabbed at his lemon drizzle cake, his appetite diminished since he'd ordered it.

"Go on," Harry prompted gently.

"Oh I don't know. It's like…like he's taken offence at the fact that I said there was more between us than just sex. He's going out of his way to prove me wrong."

Harry eyebrows rose as he said, "And is there more between you than just sex?"

"Well…I'd like to think so, yes," Neville said, not meeting his friend's eyes. "But clearly he doesn't," he added despondently.

"Don't take it to heart," Harry said with a smile. "Draco's a complicated bloke, there'll be more going on here than meets the eye."

"Great. As if things weren't hard enough."

Harry went back to work and Neville mooched around for a little longer and headed to Diagon to pick up a few supplies. He spent longer than was necessary perusing the shops, unsure what he would return to if he went back home. Deciding that the best thing was to try and approach things gently, he went to the deli and picked out some nice bits for dinner that they could have as a little picnic in the garden and enjoy the beautiful weather.

He stopped at Fortescue's and picked up a tub of Draco's favourite ice cream then dropped in at the off-license to buy a nice, crisp white wine that would be a pleasant accompaniment to a summer's evening. He was determined to spend some time with the man, even if they didn't have a deep and meaningful conversation or sort out whatever it was that was happening between them. They couldn't go on avoiding each other indefinitely and, besides, Neville was rather missing Draco's company.

He arrived home to find it quiet. Placing his shopping on the kitchen table, he decided to see if Draco was anywhere to be found. The downstairs rooms were empty so Neville decided to check the cellar. He knocked on the door and received no answer but decided to check, nevertheless. He descended the stairs slowly to find Draco sitting at one of his workbenches, his head in his hands.

He looked up when he heard the stairs creak, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyes red. "Draco," Neville said, immediately concerned. "What's happened?"

"Nothing," Draco said shortly, wiping his face and trying to compose himself.

"Draco – "

"I said it's nothing," he insisted, standing up and straightening his clothing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot to be getting on with."

He tried to shoulder past Neville but Neville caught his arm and gently held him in place, saying, "Oh no you don't. If you don't want to tell me what's happened then that's your business, I'm not going to push you, but I am not going to leave you on your own when you're clearly upset."

"I'm not upset," Draco said, shaking himself out of Neville's hold. "It's…fumes."

"There's nothing brewing," Neville said, casting a look around the room.

"Fumes from earlier!"

"I thought a Slytherin would lie better."

"Oh for heaven's sake, you infuriating man! My eyes are just…irritated, that's all. I have a headache and…and it's just been a very long day. I don't need you to mollycoddle me."

Neville raised his eyebrows and said, "Fine. Well then how about I just feed you instead, hm? I've brought home some nice bits for dinner, thought we could have a bit of a picnic. I've even got you a tub of Rocky Road."

Draco sniffed and tilted his chin upwards. "Well," he said, then brushed past Neville up the stairs, shouting over his shoulder, "Are you coming or what?"

Neville smiled and followed him up the stairs. It was progress, of sorts, and even if Draco wouldn't confide in him then at least he could get him to eat and get some sunshine. The man was clearly upset by something and if Neville could spend an evening taking his mind off things then at least that was one thing accomplished.

He retrieved the supplies from the kitchen and went out into the garden to find that Draco had already placed a blanket on the ground and was laying out plates and cutlery. Neville joined him and began dishing things out, trying not to smile too much at Draco's surprise that the spread contained all his favourite things.

He poured a couple of glasses of wine and began filling his plate up, gratified that Draco apparently had enough of an appetite to do the same. They ate in silence for a while, the summer breeze pleasantly cool after a rather warm day and the smells from the greenhouses adding a fragrant backdrop to proceedings.

"So, what did you do today?" Neville asked, helping himself to more of his favourite pasta salad.

"Nothing," came the curt reply as Draco sipped his wine.

"Right," said Neville with a sigh, realising that he wasn't going to get anywhere by simply asking questions. Perhaps silence really was golden.

Conversation, it seemed, wasn't going to be forthcoming so Neville decided not to push it. After all, the evening was a pleasant one and it was nice enough to sit quietly and enjoy good food and good wine without having to delve into the inner recesses of Draco's soul.

"Here," Neville said, handing Draco the tub of ice cream when they'd finished with all the savoury things.

"Do you want to share?" Draco asked and Neville smiled at him.

"I'd be honoured," he said, and Draco offered him a spoon as he scooted a little closer.

Neville was done after a few mouthfuls. It was too sweet for him and he wasn't a huge fan of ice cream in the first place. Draco, on the other hand, continued to eat until there was no more left, sucking the spoon in an endearingly childlike fashion and scraping the carton with a focus Neville had only ever seen him display with his potions. At least he'd managed to get one thing right that day.

The empty carton discarded, Draco seemed slightly at a loss for something to do and so simply sat with his legs crossed, staring out across the gardens. Neville sat next to him and searched his mind for how he could possibly make things better. Perhaps he was overthinking things, perhaps supporting someone didn't mean solving the answers to all their problems but just being there, showing them your solidarity.

He took a deep breath then slowly placed his hand on Draco's back. He felt the muscles tense beneath his palm but, other than a slight shift in the man's breathing, Draco showed no signs of acknowledging the hand resting there. When he was confident he wasn't going to be shoved away, Neville began to move, rubbing gentle circles until he felt some of the tension bleed away. Draco stopped holding himself quite so stiffly and began to lean into the touch, still keeping his gaze firmly ahead.

After a little while, Neville moved his hand upwards, letting it settle against Draco's neck in a gentle caress. He slid in into the man's soft hair and raked his fingers gently through the blond locks, receiving a shaky little sigh before Draco turned to look at him. Neville removed his hand but Draco caught it and held it uncertainly for a moment before he brought it slowly up to his face and kissed the back of it.

He closed his eyes and Neville watched, breathless, as the man held his hand to his cheek then took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, moving Neville's hand to his lap but still holding onto it. He took a shuddering breath then said, "I went to go and see my father today."

Neville was shocked, wondering what on earth had possessed him, but controlled himself and said, "Oh. I um…I take it it didn't…go well?"

Draco shook his head and traced Neville's knuckles with his free hand. "He…wouldn't see me at first but I insisted and eventually they took me through to a…an interview room, I suppose. He looked awful, I mean…almost feral. I wouldn't have recognised him if I'd passed him in the street."

He took another breath, continuing to look down at his hand joined with Neville's own, then said, "He was…Merlin, Neville he was so cruel. He said things…such awful things." His voice wobbled slightly and Neville could see the beginnings of tears in the man's eyes. "He said I was a disgrace, that he wished I'd never been born, that I was an embarrassment. He said I was nothing more than a disappointing fag and that he wished his thugs had done a better job at giving me a good hiding."

"Oh Draco," Neville said, absolutely horrified that Lucius could be so abhorrent. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Draco shook as he head as he tried to sniff away his tears. "I shouldn't have gone. I knew it was a bad idea but I just…I wanted some answers. I wanted to know how he could do that to me."

"You're better off keeping well away from him. Let him stay behind bars and rot."

Draco nodded, still tracing patterns on the back of Neville's hand, and said, "I know. I just…I hoped I'd got it wrong, that he wasn't responsible…that he didn't hate me that much."

Neville moved closer and gently placed a hand on Draco's cheek, cupping his jaw and letting his thumb trace a soft pattern against the man's skin. "You're ten times the man he'll ever be. I know it hurts because he's your father but his opinion doesn't matter. He's a cruel and despicable bastard and he'll die alone and wretched."

Draco looked up to meet his eyes, his expression so vulnerable that Neville's chest ached. "What if he's right?" Draco asked, his voice small. "What if I am all the things he says I am?"

"You know you're not," Neville said softly. "You're a remarkable man and you'll have a far happier life than he ever did. He isn't worth your thoughts."

He stroked Draco's cheek softly and, throwing all previously imagined rules out of the window, leant forward until their lips met gently. It was the first time he'd kissed the man outside of sex and there was a sweetness and an innocence to it that Neville found instantly intoxicating. He moved his hand from Draco's cheek to cradle the back of his neck, holding him gently as Draco continued to clutch his other hand.

He slowly felt the tension leave the other man's body and, as the kiss deepened, he guided Draco back to lie on the blanket, covering the man's body delicately with his own. It was liberating to kiss for the sake of it, to give comfort and to show Draco a little tenderness when he was feeling so horribly vulnerable.

Draco's arms slid around his body, holding him close as they kissed, the atmosphere totally different from the times they'd kissed as a prelude to something more. They moved like liquid against one another and the pull of Draco's arms was tender rather than insistent. It was glorious and Neville could have spent the whole evening losing himself in such a simple pleasure.

He pulled back to look down at the man beneath him and Draco's smile was so overwhelming that Neville felt his mouth go dry. He felt himself returning the smile as Draco's hand slid up into his hair and pulled him back down into another exquisite kiss.

He had to keep his hands busy, that was the trick. If they were idle for any length of time then they would itch to reach out and touch Draco. Normally that wouldn't be an issue but the trouble was he didn't want to touch him just to initiate sex. It was one thing to grab the man and roger him senseless over the sofa in the den, it was even acceptable to spend an evening kissing him when he was upset, but it was another kettle of fish to initiate affection merely for the sake of it.

The kiss had been well-received, it was true, but that had been a special circumstance and Neville had no idea how Draco felt about that kind of behaviour when things were ordinary. Would he welcome affection? More importantly, was Neville brave enough to initiate it?

It was driving him slightly insane and he found himself constantly questioning what was going on between them, to the point that everything else went out of the window when he was in Draco's vicinity. He dropped things, broke things, burnt toast, overfilled the kettle so it slopped all over the stove and generally made a mess of everything he came into contact with. Draco found it all very amusing and kept teasing him about his clumsiness as though he was totally oblivious to the fact that he was the reason for it.

"I'll…be late tonight," Draco said over breakfast a week or so after their little picnic in the garden.

Neville lowered his paper and eyed Draco carefully. "You're closing up the shop?" he asked.

"Yes," Draco said with a sigh, "but I don't need – "

"I'll come and meet you."

"No you won't."

"Yes I bloody will. Until we can be sure that this…situation with your bastard father is sorted you're not safe. I'm not saying I'm any kind of knight in shining armour, or that you're not perfectly capable of looking after yourself, but there's safety in numbers. Besides…it would make me feel better."

Draco drummed his fingers on the table then said with a huff, "Oh fine! If it'll shut you up then fine. Come and meet me at 8pm then. I expect you in full shining knight attire."

Neville smiled, pleased he'd got his way, and said, "Good, that's settled then."

"Heavy-handed bastard," Draco groused, but Neville could see the man wasn't truly bothered by it. There was no way he would have given in if he had been. "What are your plans for the day anyway?"

"Oh…nothing much. Just the usual," Neville said, hoping his flushed cheeks weren't giving him away. He'd made an appointment to see Narcissa and, while he hated lying to Draco, he knew the man wouldn't be pleased if he told him the truth.

"Well, don't go wild," Draco said with a smirk. "I'll be off, I have a mountain of things to do today and I'm already late for half of them."

He stood and brushed the crumbs from his lap then stepped around his chair and leant across to place a kiss to Neville's cheek. "See you later, have a good day."

He swept out of the room and Neville blinked after him in surprise. The man had just given him a goodbye kiss and it had knocked his world slightly off its axis. "Oh, pull yourself together," he growled. "Behaving like an idiot."

He finished reading the paper, although he took very little in, then set about his work for the morning. He didn't get much done; he was constantly distracted by thoughts of that innocuous little kiss as well as his impending meeting with Narcissa later that day. He gave it all up for a lost cause and mooched around in the den watching mindless TV until it was time to make his way to Malfoy Manor.

He changed out of his scruffy jeans and t-shirt and put on smart trousers with a dress shirt, making sure there was no dirt under his fingernails and that his hair was neat and tidy. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and stepped into the floo, pleased that he came out the other end gracefully. Narcissa was waiting for him and he tipped her a bow as he said, "Narcissa, good afternoon. Thank you for seeing me."

"My pleasure. You're always welcome. Come."

She led him to her private parlour, which was a smaller and much less ostentatious room than the main drawing room. Perhaps she had sensed that this was to be a serious conversation, that she had no need to overwhelm or intimidate him and, for that, Neville was grateful.

"Tea?" she offered as they took their seats opposite one another.

"Thank you, no. I'd rather we got straight to the point."

A pale eyebrow rose. "And what point would that be?"

Telling himself he was doing the right thing, Neville straightened his shoulders and said, "A week or so ago…Draco was attacked."

"What?" Narcissa said sharply, her cold eyes flashing.

"He's fine," Neville assured her. "He sustained a couple of broken ribs and they gave him a good hiding but…the reason I'm here is…because of who was behind it."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "You know the culprits?"

Neville nodded, his mouth dry and his palms clammy. "It was Lucius," he said quietly and watched as Narcissa's face turned to stone.

She stood up in one elegant, graceful movement and took a couple of steps to the window, her jaw set firm and her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "You're certain of this?" she asked, her voice clear and cold without the slightest hint of emotion to it.

"Yes. The attackers…had a message for him. Lucius…Lucius confirmed it when Draco went to visit him."

Narcissa turned around sharply, a slight flare to her nostrils as she said, "Draco visited Lucius?"

"He wanted answers. He didn't like the ones he got."

"I must speak to him."

"No," Neville said quickly, getting to his feet. "He doesn't know I'm here, he doesn't want you knowing."

"Then why are you here, Neville?" Narcissa asked, her expression hard.

"Look," Neville said, unwilling to be cowed by her, "you're a cold bitch and there's no mistaking that but I know you care about Draco more than anything. I'm here because I want him safe and because I think you're probably the only person who can make that happen."

There was silence for a moment as Narcissa fixed him with her cold, hard gaze, her expression inscrutable. "You sound as though you care for him," she said eventually, her voice still maddeningly even.

Meeting her eyes without faltering, Neville replied, "That may well be the one area in which we have any common ground."

The woman's lips pursed slightly and Neville could see the same calculating expression that Draco so often wore. "Very well," she said with a tight nod. "Leave Lucius to me."

Neville knew better than to ask what her plans were and he wasn't certain he wanted to know anyway. He nodded and said, "Thank you. I won't take any more of your time."

He gave a bow and turned to leave, stopping with his hand on the handle when Narcissa said, "Does he care for you?"

"That's really none of your business," Neville said levelly, exiting the room before the woman could tangle him up in one of her webs.

He arrived home and retreated to the den, hoping he'd done the right thing. He trusted that Snape knew what he was talking about and that Narcissa was his best bet in controlling Lucius but he didn't like feeling that he'd gone behind Draco's back. He didn't trust Narcissa or her methods but he was certain that she loved her son, that she would do anything to keep him safe. It only remained to be seen what steps she took to ensure that.

Deciding that it would do no good to dwell on it, he threw himself into his work until it was time to go and meet Draco. He knew he was being overprotective and that Draco didn't need chaperoning through the streets like some feeble child but the thought of him being attacked again sent Neville's blood cold. Next time he might not get away with a couple of cracked ribs and a smacked face.

He apparated to the wizarding quarter of Bristol, somewhere he wasn't all that familiar with, and followed Draco's instructions to a pleasant little side street. He found Mr Zanetti's shop and was pleased to see that it wasn't remotely like Borgin & Burke's, which he'd been picturing in his mind, and was instead a charming little place that looked well-kept and inviting.

The sign was flipped to closed but the door opened when he tried it, the little bell tinkling above his head to signal his entrance. "Draco?" he called, looking around the shop for a sign of the man.

"Back here," came the reply, and Neville snaked around the shelves to find the man in a little back room, a ledger open in his hand as he checked the shelves. "Just double-checking the stock," he said as Neville hovered in the doorway.

"No rush," Neville said, taking the opportunity to let his eyes rake over the man. He was dressed in his usual smart outfit of black trousers and a white shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled to the elbow, while a pressed apron covered his body. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was brushed back off his face, the upward tilt of his head showing off the sharp angle of his jaw.

Apparently satisfied, Draco closed the ledger with a snap and placed it on the table behind him. He untied the apron and slipped it over his head, hanging it on the peg by the door and giving Neville a smile as he did so. He went to remove the glasses but Neville reached out and halted his hand, saying, "Leave them."

Draco smirked at him and said, "They do it for you, do they?" Neville nodded with a smile and Draco lowered his hand and tilted his head. "Like what you see?" he asked as he modelled the glasses for Neville.

"As if you don't know you're absolutely stunning."

To Neville's surprise, Draco blushed and looked away, mumbling, "Don't be daft."

"What? It's news to you that I'm attracted to you?" Neville asked with a laugh.

"Attraction is…one thing," Draco said, continuing to direct his comment to the floor, his cheeks still flushed and his manner endearingly shy, "but you just called me stunning."

"Well, you are," Neville insisted. "God, Draco…you're beautiful."

Draco's head snapped back up, his eyes wide behind his glasses. It amazed Neville how such a cocky sod could be so staggeringly vulnerable and it brought out all the protective instincts in him he'd never realised he possessed.

He stepped closer and, feeling daring, snaked an arm around Draco's waist and flattened his palm against the small of the man's back, pulling him gently towards him. "I'm going to kiss you," he said, immediately wishing he could kick himself for how bloody stupid he sounded.

Draco gave a soft laugh and said, "You'd better."

He slipped his arms around Neville's neck and tilted his head to meet Neville's kiss, Neville lost immediately in the soft press of their lips, in the sweetness of Draco in his arms. Their bodies pressed gently together, Neville's hand warm in the small of Draco's back while his other travelled in a soft caress along the length of Draco's torso until it slid up into Draco's hair, twining gently in the blond strands.

Draco emitted a soft little moan against his lips and Neville's pulse quickened. He'd thought sex with Draco was as good as it could possibly get but this, this simple kiss that had passion mixed with tenderness was, astoundingly, even better. Kissing without sex meant something, of that he was certain, but he was damned if he was going to examine that meaning now. No, all he wanted was permission to kiss Draco whenever he wanted and to be the one responsible for those beautiful moans and to be the one who had the privilege of holding him the way he was doing at that moment.

Reluctantly, he pulled back. Draco's hands moved to his shoulders as he smiled up at him, the expression sweet and somehow conspiratorial. "I think I can put up with you coming to pick me up from work," he said, his hands moving to stroke Neville's chest.

"Happy to be of service," Neville said, keeping him close and unwilling to have any space between them just yet. "You want to go and get something to eat?" he asked, his hand stroking Draco's back.

Draco shook his head, the same funny smile on his lips, and said, "I want you to take me home so we can spend a quiet evening together."

"Doing what, exactly?" Neville asked, determined that, whatever it was, it would involve as much physical contact with his husband as possible.

"We'll think of something," Draco murmured before he moved his hand up to Neville's head and gently pulled him back down into yet another kiss that had everything else falling away.

AN: If you'd like to see the inspiration for my Draco in this fic, please visit ladykenz347 on Tumblr and search 'Count the kinks'. Her gorgeous drawing is wonderful and 100% how I picture Draco in my mind. I'd like to post the link here but we all know what this website is like...

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review and let me know.