DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author Notes: This story contains both SLASH and blatant drug use. If these themes offend you, please do not read this story!

The characters in this story may seem a little out of character, but give it a chance. Consider this story a "coming of age" tale about the characters developing into adults. I anticipate many flames telling me off for my OOC-ness. So be it.

This story is COMPLETE. I will post new chapters weekly.

Chapter One: Dancing with the Enemy

I think my body
is as restless as my mind
and I don't know if I can roll with it
this time......
"Roll With It" by Ani DiFranco

Neville stood next to the punch table, watching his quartet of friends share a dance. The worst thing about being a Third Wheel was the appalling lack of dance partners. All of the girls in attendance were paired with boys of their own.

Glancing around the room, Neville saw that there were only a select handful of students not dancing: Colin Creevy, Crabbe and Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode and, surprisingly, Draco Malfoy.

Neville's head was beginning to lighten and he suddenly found the candles hovering overhead extremely fascinating. The Ecstasy was finding its mark. He stared at the candles for minutes on end. The colors were riveting! The flicker of the flame was spellbinding. How is it possible that I never noticed how absolutely beautiful fire is? Wow. What he wouldn't give to touch one of those flames. To catch it and hold it in his palm.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," a sardonic voice penetrated Neville's foggy senses. "Fire tends to burn, you know."

Neville laughed and lowered his hands. He knew that voice: Draco Malfoy. "How positively horrid of it."

"I'm assuming since you are trying to embrace the flames," Draco moved a little closer to the rolling Gryffindor. "That you found the nerve to take the Snitch."

Neville thought he ought to defend his nerve, but the impulse was fleeting as new sensations continued to bombard him. "I took it about 30 minutes ago."

"Excellent," Draco consulted the watch hanging from his waistband. "I took mine about the same time."

"You took one?" Neville gaped incredulously at Draco. "How... I mean, I really thought you were above all this."

Draco laughed and clapped Neville on the back. "I am never above a spot of fun, Longbottom."

Neville found himself pressing against Draco's hand, his nerves racing beneath his skin, relishing in the feel of it. "What should we do, then?"

Draco ran his hand down Neville's back, marveling at the softness. He always knew that Neville was not the most svelte boy in Hogwarts, but he was surprised—pleasantly so. Draco's fingers snaked over Neville's shoulder and down his arm. He liked the not-so-perfect feel of him.

Draco was intrigued.

"First thing's first," Draco grabbed Neville's wrist and tugged sharply. "We must dance."

"Together?" Neville mused aloud. Draco merely laughed, leading the other boy to the middle of the Great Hall.

And so it came to pass that Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy joined the dancing throng on the floor. Curious eyes watched as Neville danced with abandon. Neville had never been a great dancer... hell; he was not even a passable dancer! But there he was, throwing himself into the music as if he had been born to do so!

Across the floor, Ginny caught a glimpse of her best friend frenetically jumping up and down in time to the music. Thinking it was the worst dancing she'd ever seen, Ginny made a mental note to discuss the Ins and Outs of socially acceptable dance movements with Neville later. Curious to see who would be complaining loudly about his performance the next day, she shifted her position in order to see Neville's partner. She immediately stopped dancing and grabbed Harry by the arms.

"Harry!" Ginny forcefully turned Harry around and pointed toward the unlikely dance partners. "Look at that!"

Harry scanned the room until his eyes fell on Neville. His lips curved into an amused, patronizing smile, but he was quickly distracted by the pale figure who was dancing in the same bizarre fashion—jumping up and down in place. "Bloody hell!"

Draco and Neville were the exact same height, although Draco never noticed before. He wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist and leaned toward Neville to whisper, "We have an audience, Longbottom. It seems that those bloody Gryffindors of yours find our association a bit odd."

"Yes," Neville lolled his head, trying to get closer to Draco's skin. His body was boiling hot and Draco's skin was like a refreshing splash of ice water. "I imagine this does look odd. But... god... I don't care. Just touch me again!"

Draco threw his head back and laughed out loud at the request. In doing so, Draco's hips thrust against Neville's, making both boys gasp in delight. Draco knew the E was at work. That was the thing with E. Touching, kissing, tasting, hearing, seeing... everything was so much MORE with Ecstasy. No inhibitions could combat the effects of Ecstasy. There was no point fighting.

Neville gripped Draco's waist and drew him closer. He stared at the Slytherin, wondering when, exactly, Draco's eyes had gotten so... shiny. In the recesses of his mind, Neville knew that these thoughts were being conjured by the drug, but at the moment, he could not possibly care less. He lifted both his hands and buried them in Draco's hair and pulled his face down to his own.

Draco did not resist. He pressed his lips into Neville's and wondered at the feel of them against his own. The room tilted wildly and the music pounded inexorably in his ears, but all he could feel was Neville's lips on his. This is the best feeling in the world.

Neville's own thoughts were pinging around in his mind. He had never realized just how silky soft Draco's hair was. He had never noticed the heady scent of jasmine that was Draco. He had never known that a kiss could suffocate you in a way that made you ache for more. Neville opened his mouth to breathe and found Draco's tongue sliding in between his lips. I have died and this is heaven.

"Bloody hell," Harry exclaimed again, watching as Neville snaked his own tongue into his nemesis' mouth. "I am so disturbed that I cannot think."

"Oh!" Ginny gasped, pushing her way past Harry. She had to get to Neville. This was obviously the work of Dark Magic. "Neville!"

Neville heard his best friend's voice, but he wanted her to go away. He wanted to fall into Malfoy's mouth and drown. But suddenly, Malfoy was gone from him, leaving him bereft. Ginny had yanked the blond out of Neville's arms and was viciously yelling at him about casting a spell or some such thing.

"Oh, Ginny," Neville slinked over to Ginny and leaned heavily against her. "Leave Malfoy alone. We were just dancing."

"Dancing my left foot!" Ginny squealed, making Draco and Neville fall into peels of drug-induced giggles. "You were—"

"Be a lamb, Gin," Neville reached out and shoved Ginny's shoulder gently. "And bugger off. Go on."

Ginny's mouth fell open as she watched Neville grab Draco's hand and lead him away.

"That," Ron's voice came from behind his sister. "Is easily the weirdest thing I've ever seen within these walls. And mind you, I've seen a lot of weird stuff here!"

"What are they doing now?" Ginny asked, a faint laugh in her voice. "What are those?"

The foursome stood and watched as Draco spun lit up sticks in front of Neville's face. Neville's eyebrows were raised and his face registered amazement.

"Those are light sticks," Hermione explained knowledgably. "I've seen them in the Muggle stores."

Hermione knew that light sticks were commonly used in the Muggle drug community. She had read a disturbing yet fascinating article on the rampant use of Ecstasy by England's teens. Hordes of teenagers taking a synthetic drug that skewed reality and slowly boiled the brain in extreme heat. Hermione was positive that Neville, who did not have any ties to the Muggle world, had not gotten his hands on the drug. After all, it was purely a Muggle phenomenon.

"It looks like Neville is in a trance," Hermione mused. "Perhaps we should we tell a professor?"

Harry, for once, agreed with Hermione and started walking toward the staff table. He intended to get Professor McGonagall. Maybe this time that insufferable git will get his just reward!

"Not so fast," Blaise Zabini stepped in front of Harry, pressing his finger into his chest.

"What is your problem?" Harry pushed Blaise away roughly, itching to pull his wand.

"I see that you are barreling toward the staff table at top speed," Blaise lifted a finger and touched the tip of Harry's nose, causing him to jerk his head back. "Presumably to accuse Draco of poisoning your dear Longbottom. Am I right so far?"

Harry's eyes flashed angrily. "Malfoy has obviously hexed him."

"Look," Blaise regarded Harry seriously. "If you go to the professors, you will get Draco in trouble—"

"And therein lies the beauty of the plan," Harry interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"—but you'll also get Longbottom into the same trouble," Blaise finished, looking smug.

"What do you mean?"

Blaise leaned slightly to the side, watching Draco gulp down a huge goblet of water. "Don't you see that Draco is acting odd?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. "But Malfoy is always odd."

"Granted," Blaise inclined his head regally, in true Slytherin fashion. "But even at his oddest, have you ever seen him be decent to Longbottom?"

"No," Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you just spit it out, Zabini? What are you trying to tell me?"

"That Draco and Longbottom are rolling," Blaise told him with a shrug. "They are both on E."

"Rolling?" Harry blinked. He had not heard that expression in over six years! Vague flashes of his 'Just Say No to Drugs' course from his grammar school flashed before his eyes. "E? What is E?"

"Ecstasy," Blaise supplied. "It is the Muggle drug that Draco favors."

"Figures that a Muggle hater would love a Muggle drug," Harry muttered. He turned to look at Neville and Draco, who were once again grinding into one another. Draco was still holding his light sticks. He shuddered in disgust.

"Technicality," Blaise waved his hand as if dismissing the very idea that Draco would approve of anything Muggle in nature. "Muggle Ecstasy has been enhanced by wizards. And the Malfoy family is the biggest distributor in England."

"Fascinating, really," Harry turned back to Blaise. "But why would I believe that Neville took that stuff on his own free will?"

"Oh, you don't have to believe me," Blaise laughed. "I just thought it would be fun to watch your little Gryffindor mind try to sort it all out. Send an enemy and a friend to slaughter? Or save them both? Oh! To Do?"

With a final wave of his hand, Blaise returned to his group of overly preened Slytherins, leaving Harry to debate his next move. Damn Slytherins.

He would never get Neville in trouble on purpose. Harry could just imagine the reaction of Neville's Gran if he was caught experimenting with Muggle drugs. No way. He would not chance it. Harry turned back to his friends and shook his head. He would have to explain this new turn of events to them. He only hoped that Neville knew what he was doing.

"Here," Draco shoved a cup into Neville's hands. "Drink this."

"What is it?" Neville asked, even as he raised the cup to his lips.

"Just water," Draco told him as he gulped. "It is most important that we stay hydrated."

In his haste to drink, water dribbled out his mouth and slid down his neck. The water was cold and the contact with his skin was pleasurable. He shivered and took the glass from his lips. "I want to go swimming!"

"That could be dangerous," Draco purred as his fingers reached out to follow the dribbled water from Neville's lips, down his neck and beneath the collar of his robes.

"Dangerous?" Neville was hardly concerned. His skin zinged from Draco's touch.

"If we leave this room," Draco's voice was breathy and bated. "We will end up shagging."

"Then, let's go," Neville grabbed Draco's wrist and tugged him toward the door. "Now."

Draco laughed and allowed the Gryffindor to lead him from the Great Hall. He never would have taken Neville for such an easy score. Queer? Oh, absolutely, but not "easy". Draco thought he would have had to work just a smidge to get him into bed. He did not expect to be hauled off in front of the entire Hogwarts' population at the mere mention of a tumble in the hay! Of course, the Ecstasy was the only thing making this possible. He just knew that if Neville were sober, there would be no chance of him going off alone with Draco Malfoy for a shag.

"In here, Longbottom," Draco opened the door to the Prefect's bathroom and gestured for Neville to enter. "This tub is big enough for a swim."

Before the door closed all the way, Neville lunged at Draco, knocking the pale boy to the tiled floor. His mouth descended on Draco's as his hands clawed at the fine black robes denying him access to Draco's skin.

Draco quickly recovered from the shock of Neville's attack and began ripping at the fabric of Neville's robes. The only thought in his drugged mind was Longbottom. Naked. Longbottom. Naked.

Neville yanked Draco's robes down, trapping the other boy's arms to his side. The sight of Draco's bare chest made Neville groan loudly. How was it possible that such a small expanse of skin could make him so entirely hot? He bent and captured one of Draco's impossibly pink nipples in between his teeth and tugged gently. Draco gasped and struggled to free his arms from his robe sleeves.

Longbottom. Naked.

The world spun wildly around Neville. He felt each of Draco's touches as if his fingers were electrically charged. Each moan emitting from Draco sounded like a symphony deranged angels. These feelings were overwhelming. He never wanted them to stop.

Spots of light tingled the backs of Draco's eyes. He had never experienced a roll quite like this one. The Snitch was the newest breed of the Malfoy Quality E and it was his first time taking it. He had never felt this undeniable urge to fuck before. Sure, the urge had been there in the past, and yes, he had acted on it—several times over. Hell, he wasn't called the Mattress King for nothing! But the other incarnations of the drug had never driven him to the brink of – well... ecstasy before.

Draco pushed against Neville roughly. He was suffocating. He had to get out from under the heavier boy. Neville's eyes were unfocused and glassy as he regarded Draco in confusion.

"Oh, I'm not done with you," Draco rasped, sitting up on his knees, eyeing Neville as if he were a Christmas turkey. Neville's eyes widened as he watched Draco's trembling hands unfasten his dress robes. "I just—air—needed air."

"What?" Neville's ears were filled with roaring white noise. He could see Draco's mouth moving, but could not make out the words he was saying. No matter.

"Hurry up."

"You cannot believe that garbage," Ginny's perky nose crinkled in dismay as she listened to her boyfriend explain what Blaise had told him. "I mean, Blaise is a Slytherin."

"Right," Ron chimed in, as Harry assumed he would. "Slytherin equals Liar. No two ways about it."

Harry bit is lower lip. "But don't you think that it is possible? I mean, Nev seems like the type who would rebel."

"He does?" Ginny's nose crinkled further up her face.

"Harry's right," Hermione told the group sagely. "I remember the Drug Counselors at my old Muggle school telling us that sometimes the weakest is the easiest target for dealers. You know, that one person who may not have friends or who—"

"Neville has friends," Ron argued.

"Are we really his friends, though?" Hermione asked seriously. "I mean, besides Ginny? He is never really in the thick of things with us, is he?"

The group collectively shuffled their feet in a Very Guilty Manner. They never really thought about Neville when he was not in their direct line of sight. And when he was there, they often plotted to get him to leave. Did any of them even really know him? What was his Gran's name? What village had he grown up in? What was his favorite book? It was a sad fact that none of them could answer those questions.

"Okay," Harry broke the tense silence. "Any idea where they might've been heading?"

Draco pulled his mouth away from Neville's and covered it instead with his hand, whispering for him to be quiet. Neville's eyes searched Draco's face as the blonde tilted his head to the side, listening intently. From beyond the door there was much clomping of feet and chattering. One voice stood out from the cacophony: Harry Fucking Potter. Of course.

"Looks like your little friends are out to find you," Draco whispered against Neville's cheek. "Whatever are we going to do?"

Neville made a series of gestures indicating his apparent lack of caring. His lips opened beneath Draco's palm, his tongue drawing one of the long slender digits into his mouth. A roguish grin crossed Draco's features as he allowed Neville to nurse on his fingers.

The two boys reclined on a cushion of bath towels in nothing but trousers, hastily donned at the end of their swim cum sex romp in the tub. Neville's dark hair was still dripping wet and Draco's silvery hair was curling at the ends.

"Don't you care that your friends," Draco spat out 'friends' as if it were a bug on his tongue. "Are about to discover you with me, naked?"

"I'm sure that my 'friends' would be only too happy to find me in your arms," Neville said after letting Draco's fingers slip from his mouth. "Especially naked."

Draco did not miss the sarcastic inflection on the word friend. It nearly mirrored his own take on the noun just seconds before. His eyebrows came together in genuine shock.

"Why, Longbottom!" Draco mocked lightly. "Are you suggesting that the brat pack are anything less than perfect?"

"I'm not sure you could actually get farther from 'perfect' if you caught a train to Timbuktu," Neville said bitterly, his eyes flashing with what Draco could have sworn was venom. Surely he was mistaken. "I don't know why everyone is so keen on believing they are the only ones who matter around here."

Draco let the insinuation that he did not matter slide by without comment, as he was too busy reeling from shock. He never would have guessed that the quiet Gryffindor before him was possible of such strong, and seemingly angry, emotions. Draco admonished himself to never assume. Trouble was bred from assumptions.

"So," Draco assumed the detached nonchalance for which he was famous. "Why do you stick around and let them have all the glory, then?"

"What else can I do?" Neville lie back onto the bathroom floor and spread his arms out and over his head repeatedly, as if making a snow angel. "The Ravenclaws think I'm stupid. The Slytherins think I'm too—actually, I'm not sure why the Slytherins hate me. And the Hufflepuffs hate that I am better at Herbology than the whole lot of them! It is supposed to be their specialty, you know."

"What?" Draco was once again amazed. Was it the White Snitch running rampant through his body, or was it that Neville Longbottom was actually rendering him near speechlessness? The wheels in Draco's head spun rapidly as he tried to digest this new information. "So, you were the Top Herbology Student last year? The one who preferred to remain unnamed?"

"Actually," Neville corrected him casually, the E rendering him incapable of speaking anything but the truth. "I've technically been Top Student for the past six years. But they only give the award to Sixth and Seventh years."

"But why hide it?"

Neville looked at Draco in confusion. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"In that case," the dark featured boy shrugged. "I did not want Hermione to go tits-up about it. You know her—she has to be the best at everything. She got all the other awards except—"

Draco smirked complacently. "She did not get the Potions award."

"Right. Because you got that one," Neville supplied quickly. "Isn't it funny that the only two students to beat her last year were you and I?"

"That is actually quite hysterical. Her worst enemy and you!"

"Isn't it?" Neville sat up abruptly, the Ecstasy-imposed honesty bubbling forth. "I wanted to owl you so that we could have a good laugh about it."

Draco was officially blown away. Never in all his time at Hogwarts had he heard anything more astonishing than this most unGryffindor-like sentiment! In fact, Draco was quite sure that he had horribly underestimated Neville Longbottom.

Neville was getting tired of being still. The White Snitch still had him in its clutches. He wanted to move; he needed to move. He jumped to his feet and began pacing the room, stopping every so often to examine the decorations on the walls.

"You know, Malfoy," Neville turned to look at the Slytherin, who was still lounging against their mattress of towels. "I always wondered why you and I never got on better."

"Longbottom," Draco said in a tone of a chastising parent. "We just spent the better part of two hours fucking like rabbits. How much better could it be?"

Neville waved away Draco's reference to their sexual encounter. "You know what I mean."

"I daresay," Draco sounded amused. "That it is the age old Gryffindor vs. Slytherin rivalry."

"That's ridiculous," Neville chided, his feet shuffling not from nerves but from the overwhelming urge to do so. "We are both from old, pureblood families. There are not many of us left."

Draco blinked twice in rapid succession.

"Shame that."

"Longbottom," Draco got to his feet and approached the other boy. "Are you about to rail against Muggles and Mudbloods and announce your undying devotion to the Dark Lord?"

"Have you gone around the bend?" Neville laughed and shot Draco a pointed glance. "We are, in fact, different in that regard."

"Well, thank the stars," Draco chuckled and grabbed at his chest dramatically. "I would have suffered an immediate heart stoppage."

Neville smiled as he reached out for Draco. "Are we done talking now?"

"For now," Draco nodded before leaning in to devour Neville's mouth once again.

"We've checked every corridor," Ron leaned against a closed door and crossed his arms resolutely. "I do not know why we are even continuing on this mad chase."

"Okay, fine," Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "Let's head back to the Ball. We might make it back in time for one last dance." "Wait," Ginny pushed her brother aside and pressed her ear to the wooden door. "Do you hear that?"

The foursome fell silent, all eight ears straining to hear whatever noise Ginny had already heard. Just as they were starting to shuffle impatiently, a cry rang out through the silence like the bells of La Notre Dame breaking through the dawn in Paris.

"This is the prefect's toilet," Hermione pulled Ginny away from the door and reached for her wand. "Stand back."

Hermione spoke her overriding Head Girl password causing the door to swing open soundlessly. The Gryffindors rushed in behind Hermione but quickly stopped short. There, on the floor before them, laid a half-clothed Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom. Draco was on his back with Neville straddling his hips. Draco's hands cupped the other boy's backside while Neville kissed him deeply.

The girls squealed in surprise. The boys cried out in apparent disgust. There was no mistaking that their friend wanted to be in his current position. Neville lifted his head and turned at the sound of the disturbance and swore aloud. Draco, for his part, continued to massage Neville's arse, smirking up at the intruders.

"Can we help you?" Draco inquired with sugary sweet helpfulness.

"Neville!" Hermione hurried forward to touch her housemate's forehead as if feeling for a temperature. "Are you okay? You're burning up!"

"Of course I'm all right," Neville jerked back from her touch as if her hand was on fire. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Well," Ron piped up, his voice quaking with disapproval. "You are nearly starkers, for one, and perhaps more importantly, you are snogging Malfoy."

"Good thing you did not pop in an hour ago," Neville told him with an uncharacteristic grin. "That 'nearly' of yours would not have been applicable."

"Were we snogging an hour ago?" Malfoy asked Neville conversationally.

"Oh, no," Neville turned to face Draco, his hands playing on the Slyhterin's chest. "An hour ago we were shagging."

The sound of Hermione's wand clattering to the floor echoed through the room.

"That is just—" Harry looked nearly as green as his infamous eyes.

"Gross," Ginny finished for him with a shiver.

"Come off it, Gin," Neville said with a hint of viciousness. "You told me not four days ago how much you wanted Malfoy to pin you against a wall and fuck you."

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth, gasping audibly. Harry's eyes narrowed on his girlfriend.

"Look," Draco lifted Neville off of himself and got to his feet. All eyes were riveted on his perfect form. "Could you lot continue your little Gryffindor version of As the Cauldron Bubbles elsewhere?"

"Fine," Hermione said stiffly, reaching down to retrieve her wand. "Come on, Neville."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," Neville was on his feet, advancing on Hermione until he stood chest to chest with her. "You cannot order me around."

"It wasn't an order," Hermione put her hands on Neville's chest and pushed him away from her. "I was just—"

"It sounded like an order to me," Draco advised Neville helpfully.

Neville once again stepped toward the small brunette before him. His voice was low and almost menacing. "Me too."

"All right," Ron pulled Hermione away from the suddenly combative Neville and pushed her behind him. "That's enough Neville. You don't want to come with us? Fine. But don't you ever touch Hermione. Ever."

"No worries there," Neville bit out, his mouth twisting with revulsion. Draco stifled the urge to laugh at the rejoinder.

"Come on," Harry took Ginny's arm and turned her to the door. "Let's get out of here. He deserves whatever happens to him."

Despite himself, Neville flinched at that proclamation. Ginny, picking up on the subtle movement, pulled away from Harry and warily approached her friend.

Neville stared down at her, his face impassive. She concentrated on pouring every bit of love she felt for her best friend into her light eyes, hoping to break through the spell of the drug. Finally, she reached up and put her arms around his shoulders, her head resting against his bare chest.

Neville hesitated briefly before embracing her tightly. As his hands stroked her ginger hair, he whispered in her ear. "I'm fine. I want this. Just go."

"Okay," Ginny nodded and squeezed him once more before slipping from his arms. She turned and went to Harry. "Let's go."

To be continued!