The Boy Who Cried - Part V

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To learn more about this fic and its place in the altraverse I've
created, go to my website at http://www.geocities.com/ratheramutemwiya/

Warning: This is slash, like all my Harry Potter fics. This is Neville
and Draco... a pairing I have *never* seen before I wrote this, but if
anyone knows of a Neville/Draco fic out there somewhere, lemme know in
the review so I can read it!

Warning even to People who can Tolerate Slash: You aren't going to like
my potrayal of Neville, I can almost guarantee it... but please read
anyways!!

Note to readers: I'm trying a different style with this, please review
to tell me what you think of it.

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Neville awoke to a stinging pain on his arm. He pulled away the sleeve
of his robes to reveal... nothing. "Just a dream" Neville whispered
shakily, speaking to the empty dorm room but really trying to convince
himself, "Nothing more than a dream." But he could not deny the reality
shown by the state of his robes: they were torn and shred, and Neville
knew there was only one reason for it. He could not wear them to class
again even if he cared to.

Focusing on the practical problem posed by the shredding of his only
nice clothing, instead of the idealogical problem posed by memories
of Voldemort's laugh, Neville crossed the room to his wardrobe and
looked through it despondently. As he had known, none of the robes
were presentable, all bore the messy patchwork of his ill cast mending
spells. Then, at the bottom, he saw a glistening of black satin and
pulled it out warily, knowing with certainty that he had never owned
anything *satin* in his entire life.

The robes were tailored and smooth, with an elegant trim of silver
and the embroidered initials "NML" over the wand pocket. Neville
slid them on and marveled at the effect in the mirror, for never
had anything felt so warm and protective as these robes. Neville
sensed magic stiched into every seam of the robes, enveloping him
in portection and power.

Spying a bulge in one of the pockets, Neville reached in and pulled
out a torn sheet of parchment. He read:
Thought you might need these
~D.

Of course, Neville thought with a grin as he shredded the note and
tossed it into the wastebin, only Draco *could* afford something of
this quality. With unusual confidence, Neville took a last pleased
look in the mirror and walked down to the main hall for breakfast.

Neville did not even glance at the Gryffindor table as he went to
join Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle - but several of the Gryffindors
looked up at him. It was ironic, as Dean observed quietly to Seamus,
that, now that Neville was starting to seem confident and capable as
a Gryffindor should be, he had deserted his house for that of his
enemy.

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Draco looked up appreciatively as Neville took a seat beside him.
"You're looking well today, Neville." He teased with an almost
flirtatious grin that caused Neville to blush.

"Thank you," Neville murmured back to Draco, his words carrying a
double meaning. He was about to say more, but Dumbledore rose at the
high table and the room fell into silence as the students waited for
the morning announcements.

Dumbledore's words droned over the room, and Neville found it
difficult to pay attention to them. Instead, he focused on the boy
next to him, watching as Draco's own gaze flitted around the room,
observing everything and filing it away for his own future purposes.
Thus Neville was startled when he heard his own name announced.
"Neville Longbottom is to report to the headmaster's office following
announcements."

Neville's gaze went involuntarily to his arm, and he shuddered. He
felt Draco's hand touch his own lightly, reassuringly, but that was
not consolation enough for what he feared was coming. Neville got to
his feet and made his way towards Dumbledore's office, and Draco
could only watch and wait.

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Dumbledore was in his office when Neville arrived. Instead of speaking,
the headmaster pulled a scroll from his desk and passed it to Neville.

Neville read over the scroll hurriedly. A few phrases stuck to his
mind... "Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom have shown coherent signs of
improvement... Recovery is unexplained and time of coherence can
not be determine... Request permission for Neville Longbottom to travel
from Hogwarts..." Draco's promise, Neville realized with a start. Of
couse he had thought of it these past few weeks, never had it been far
from his mind, but he hadn't been expecting this.

Passing the scroll back to Dumbledore with a smile, Neville asked with
a hope suppressed for years, "May I go see them, sir?"

"Yes, of course." Dumbledore tapped the scroll against his fingers,
contemplating. "And Neville, perhaps another student should accompany
you. In case..." He stopped himself with a grimace, but Neville knew
what he would have said: in case they relapse before you get there,
in case you can't handle it.

Neville asked nervously, "Could... if he cares to... could Draco Malfoy
accompany me?"

Dumbledore looked up, startled. While it had not escaped his notice
that this rather unprecedented friendship had been developing lately,
he would have thought that someone more, well, to put it bluntly,
more human would have been Neville's choice. But, it was hardly his
decision to make, so Dumbledore nodded. "If you wish."

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An hour later, Neville and Draco stood at the entrance of the Institute
of Magical Maladies. Neville's legs were leaden as he took each
trembling step towards his parent's chamber, for despite Draco's
assurances he did not know what he would find there. His grandmother
was already present, waiting for the boys to join her.

As Neville walked inside and looked at the two figures sitting there
with painful calmness, he asked in a hollow voice, "Mom? Dad?"

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To be Continued.... See the box below? Write something there and I
in turn will write faster.