Chapter Three: Times, They Are A-changin'

You thought you could keep me from loving
You thought you could feed on my soul
But while you were busy destroying my life
What was half in me has become whole

While you were looking the other way
While you had your eyes closed
While you were licking your lips
'Cause I was miserable
While you were selling your soul
While you were tearing a hole in me

I was taking control

"Control" by Poe

Neville stepped into the Great Hall and paused. His eyes scanned the crowd deliberately, taking notice that everyone was in attendance. He took time to look directly at each Gryffindor, although they never looked up at him. His gaze flicked over the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, dismissing them out of hand. They meant nothing to him. When he turned his head to look at the Slytherins, he was startled to see every eye on him. They were watching him intently, as if sizing him up for some unnamed challenge.

Slytherins watch and understand everything.

Neville tore his eyes away from Draco, who was leaning forward, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape, and looked at the faculty table. Professor Dumbledore was watching him closely, a goblet arrested on its way to his lips. Slightly unnerved, Neville turned back to the Gryffindor table. This time, Ginny was facing him, her mouth trembling and her hands beckoning him forward frantically.

Neville blinked slowly and turned once again to the Slytherins. As if in slow motion, Draco pushed himself to his feet and stood patiently waiting, a small, proud smile on his lips. Without casting any further looks at Ginny or Dumbledore, Neville walked to the Slytherin table, his head held high, and his back ramrod straight.

"Slytherin House," Draco's voice rang out loud and clear in a tone of authority and utter determination. "Stand and welcome our newest brother, Neville Longbottom."

Students at the other tables swung around to see the entire Slytherin table stand in perfect unison and begin applauding loudly as Neville took a place to Draco's immediate right. Ginny's scream of anguish could be heard over the din, but both the students and the professors were too shocked by what they were witnessing to comfort her.

Not in one hundred years had Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry seen a House Break. And never, in Hogwarts' long and complex history, had a Gryffindor broke house to join Slytherin.

The Hogwarts' charter contained a provision that allowed students the option to switch houses in the event of irreconcilable differences between the student and their assigned house. It had been rarely used over the years, and only in extreme situations.

The break could be accomplished quite simply. A student merely had to publicly renounce his own house and be shown warm welcome by the new house. If the break was amicable, the break was done by way of a posted announcement, with handshakes and good will extended by all.

If the break was, on the other hand, bitter or unexpected, the student could, before the entire student body and faculty, approach the new house's table in the Great Hall before first visiting his own house table. For the house being broken, this act was one of extreme disrespect and cause for generations-long feuds.

If Dumbledore had known that the House Break clause would ever be invoked during his tenure, he certainly would have amended it to remove the option of an unmediated break. As it was, the headmaster could do nothing but bow his head in an uncharacteristic show of disappointment.

The applause of the Slytherins eventually died down, leaving the room uncomfortably silent, excepting the wrenching sobs of Ginny Weasley.

"Thank you," Neville murmured to Draco as he settled into his seat, steadfastly refusing to look up at the prying eyes around him.

"You know," Draco commented quietly. "It would have been preferable if you would have told me that you were planning on breaking house before you actually did it, you dolt."

Neville shrugged and shot his new housemate a wry smirk. "I would have thought that you'd approve of the dramatic flare of the unknown."

"Touché," Draco grinned, picking up a plate. "Did you at least tell Dumbledore or your grandmother?"

"No," Neville's eyes darkened. "Do you really think that either one of them would have let me do this?"

"I'm going to go with 'hell no'," Draco spooned a generous portion of meat pie on the plate and set it in front of Neville. "Eat up."

"My trunk is in the corridor," Neville told him as he dove into the food. "I left all of my Gryffindor robes and sweaters and all up in the Tower."

"That is how I knew what you were going to do," Draco turned and plucked at Neville's grey sweater sporting the Hogwarts seal instead of the Gryffindor badge. "No one wears these hideous things."

"Well," Neville said matter-of-factly. "It was either this or nothing."

"Now see," Draco's voice dropped to a faint purr. "That is something I could get behind."

Neville's cheeks began to flush, but he was spared from commenting by a tentative tap on his left shoulder. He turned, his back bumping against Draco's shoulder, to see Pansy Parkinson looking at him curiously.

"Hey, Longbottom."

"Hey, Pansy."

"Right," Pansy bit her lower lip. "Neville, then. Are you going to tell us why you broke house?"

"Pansy," Draco leaned over Neville, his chin resting lightly on the other boy's shoulder. "Let's give him a few days to settle, shall we? Then we'll get details."

"Did you know about this, Draco?" Pansy asked, although there was no accusation in her voice.

"Hadn't a clue, doll," Draco admitted cheerily. "But leave it to a bloody Gryffindor to actually have the courage to break house."

"Excuse me," Neville sniffed haughtily, shaking Draco off his shoulder. "I'm a Slytherin."



"But why?" Ginny sobbed, hugging Neville's pillow to her chest. "Why would he do something like this?"

"Ginny," Harry sat on the foot of Neville's bed and exhaled sharply. "Look, who knows why Neville does anything? I mean, he's barely even a wizard."

"What?" Ginny croaked, wiping her eyes so that she could see Harry better. "What does that mean?"

"Forget it," Harry reached for his girlfriend. "Who cares, anyway? Just let it go."

Ginny jerked away from Harry and leapt off the bed. She could not believe what she was hearing. What had happened to the sweet boy she had once thought could do no wrong? This Harry was an egocentric prat who could care less about those outside of his own very tight, very closed circle of friends.

"I care, Harry," Ginny threw the pillow in her arms at Harry viciously. "Neville is my best friend!"

Harry caught the pillow and tossed it to the floor. "Was, Ginny, Neville was your best friend."

"He still is," Ginny yelled.

"He broke house, Ginny," he told her, as if that one statement closed the topic.

"What would you do if it was Ron?" she demanded, her hands gesticulating wildly. "What if it had been Ron who had broken house?"

"That is ridiculous," Harry snapped, taking a step closer to Ginny. "He has too much honor to ever do something so stupid."

"Honor is often misplaced," Ginny told him, narrowing her blue eyes. "As is pride."

"What does that mean?" Harry grabbed her upper arms roughly, wrangling a cry of alarm from the small girl. "Are you talking about me?"

"If you have to ask, Harry," Ginny ground out, her face contorted in a mixture of pain and anger. "Then you already know the answer."

"How dare you," Harry shoved Ginny away from him hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. "Get out."

Ginny scrambled to her feet, her hair flying around her face in a storm of red silk. "I do not even know who you are anymore. You are not the Harry I love."

"I said get out," Harry pointed to the door, waiting for his girlfriend to leave. "Now."

Ginny turned on her heel and stormed from the room, slamming the door closed behind her. Harry stood still, staring at a Gryffindor tie swinging to and fro on a hook on the back of the door Ginny had just shut. Slowly, the tie stopped swinging and snaked off of the hook, fluttering to the floor in with a barely audible woosh of air.

Harry blinked and bent to retrieve the pillow he had tossed to the floor just moments ago. He walked to the bed and gently laid it at the head, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. Staring at the pillow, Harry tried to reconcile the fact that Neville was gone from his life. At least, Neville was no longer a friend or ally. He was an enemy. A Slytherin.

A wave of misery drove the dark haired boy to crawl into Neville's cold bed, crossing his legs and resting his forehead in his hands. Memories of the years that he had spent, or almost spent, with Neville danced before his eyes. Neville was always in the background of his memories, never a key participant, but that wasn't Harry's fault, was it?. Guilt wracked through Harry's psyche as he thought of all the times that he could have reached out to Neville. He could have made Neville feel more part of the group. He could have spent one on one time with him. He could have… anything.

He had failed Neville.

Harry had never failed before. He had defeated Voldemort in several incarnations, he had defeated a dragon and he had defeated the dreaded Imperius curse. Each time he faced adversity he knew that failure was possible, but not a viable option. This time, he failed before realising there was a challenge.

And now he had failed Ginny as well. He knew that he had treated her abominably. He would have to apologize. But what could he say to her? He had no ready words.

He had failed.

Hagrid watched the Slytherins arrive with trepidation. He had, of course, been present for the House Break that morning and had immediately begun to dread that afternoon's lesson. He anticipated bitter words and possibly a physical scuffle.

The original lesson plan involved Blood-sucking Bugbears, but upon reflection, Hagrid determined it would be in everyone's best interest if the lesson was kept to something more placid and less blood-sucking. The lesson, instead, would involve Puffskeins. Hagrid could not imagine anyone being ill tempered when holding the adorable little fur balls.

"Oh, Hagrid," Parvati Patil squealed, looking into the crate on the ground. "Puffskeins!"

"Puffskeins?" Draco sneered. "You've got to be joking. Isn't this Advanced Studies?"

Hagrid flushed. Of course, he had let himself forget that the Slytherins were always ill tempered. "Er…"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry's deep voice snapped.

"Hm," Draco tilted his head to the side and tapped his index finger against his lower lip as if considering Harry's command. "No, I don't think I will."

"Today," Hagrid boomed loudly, making all of the students in the paddock jump. "We're takin' it easy. Jus' playin' a bit. Pair up and find a spot."

Draco looked disgusted by the idea, but Neville, who had been standing next to Draco stepped forward and picked up a rather small Puffskein and turned to grin at him. Harry watched in amazement as the pale Slytherin broke into an unaffected smile and walked toward Neville.

"Okay, fine," Draco sighed dramatically, reaching out to scratch the Puffskein gingerly. "I will play with the little furries. But I want it to be known that I stand by my initial disgust of the whole idea."

"Oh, just hush, you prat," Neville turned his head toward Pansy and Tracey Davis. "Why don't you guys get one and we'll go under the trees and let them play together?"

"Okay," Pansy grabbed Tracey by the robe sleeve and went to retrieve a Puffskein. "We'll be right there."

Disconcerted by both Neville's uncharacteristic order-issuing and Malfoy's unprecedented order-taking, Harry reached down and grabbed a Puffskein roughly, causing it to squeak indignantly. He went to Ron and Hermione and dropped it in Hermione's outstretched arms.

"Hey," Ron chided him. "You have to be gentle with these little guys. You know, I used to have one of these, you know, before Scabbers."

"Yeah," Harry grumbled, plopping on the grass unceremoniously, his eyes following Neville across the lawn. "I remember you telling us."

Ron scanned the area, trying to find Harry's scowling target. He grimaced when he saw Neville sitting cross-legged in a circle with Draco, Pansy and Tracey. The quartet was laughing merrily as they watched their two Puffskeins roll over each other gaily.

"Harry," Ron shook his head. "You need to just let it go. Neville looks happy."

"Longbottom," Harry said succinctly. "Is a traitor."

"Okay, fine," Ron threw his hands up in the air. "He is a traitor. Does that mean that you are going to spend the rest of the year glowering at him?"

"Yes."

"Brilliant idea," Hermione chimed in, her face snuggled against the soft fur of the Puffskein. "At least he is always with Malfoy. You can glower at both of them at the same time. Saves energy, that."

"Very funny," Harry muttered, reluctantly tearing his eyes from the group of Slytherins. "I just can't believe that he would rather be with them than us!"

"Well, look at them," Hermione nodded her head in the direction of the rival group. "Have you ever seen Neville laugh like that?"

"I haven't," Ron admitted. His face twisted into disgust. "I don't think I've ever seen Malfoy look so… would you call that happy?… before."

"Eeew," Hermione groaned and shivered. "A genuine smile on Malfoy's face. That is scary."

Sitting beneath a large tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Neville and his housemates were cooing over the two Puffskeins, who were now tired out and snuggling into Pansy and Draco's arms.

"Of course," Draco told Neville quietly. "We will deny that snuggling ever happened here today— should anyone ask."

"Naturally," Neville nodded seriously. "Can't have the Slytherin reputation suffer at the furry little hands of a Puffskein."

"Exactly," Draco beamed at Neville for his apparent understanding of the Slytherin Way.

"Hey, Neville," Tracey scooted closer to Neville and nodded her head toward the group of Gryffindors watching them. "You've got a fan club."

Neville raised his eyes and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione staring openly at him. He turned back to Tracey, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "So I do."

"What should we do about them?" Pansy asked. "Shall we hit them with a jelly-leg curse when they get up?"

"That would be wrong, wouldn't it?" Neville asked worriedly. "I mean they wouldn't be prepared to defend themselves."

"We're Slytherin, Neville," Draco reminded him with a mischievous smirk. "Wrong is what we do."

Neville smiled, an odd feeling surging through his veins. Was it excitement at the prospect of breaking the rules? Or the anticipation of doling out punishment on the friends who had never really been friends at all?

The Slytherins chatted quietly until Hagrid called for the return of the Puffskeins. Draco lifted himself into a standing position without the use of his hands. Neville was lost in watching Draco's lithe body and nearly missed his cue to turn and fire a curse at Harry.

"One…" Draco counted quietly. "Two… THREE!"

A chorus of voices rang out followed by a spark as the curse left the three wands. The hit was direct, causing Harry, Hermione and Ron to stumble about on weakened legs. Hermione fell forward, dropping her Puffskein in the process. Ron reached out to help her, but was too unstable to do much more than tumble on top of her.

Harry retained his balance better than his friends and looked directly at Neville, who was still holding his wand out in front of him. The dark haired Gryffindor wordlessly reached for his wand, his glare fixed on Neville.

Neville was unsure what to do. His dueling skills were certainly not up to par with the infamous Harry "I've Beaten Voldemort Oh So Many Times" Potter. His dark eyes darted to Draco for counsel.

"Potter will always play fair," Draco told him quickly. "He is obviously going to come after you instead of me… which is a spot of fun, isn't it! The key to winning is hitting him first."

"With what?"

"Keep it simple," Draco cautioned, watching as Harry fought to hold his wand steady. "Go with a disarming spell."

Neville's voice was controlled and simple as he called out. "Expelliarmus!"

Much to Harry's surprise, his wand flew from his grip and landed several feet behind him. Neville's mouth dropped open in sheer surprise. Draco's hiss of approval mingled with Harry's outraged yell made Neville's soar to all new heights. He had done it! He had disarmed Harry Fucking Potter!

"Come on," Draco grabbed Neville's wrist and jerked him into a run. "Let's get out of here!"

"They know it was us," Neville pointed out as he jogged along next to Draco. "We're sure to get detention whether we run or not."

"I don't think so," Draco countered. "Hagrid was too busy with the Puffskeins. He didn't see anything. And I seriously doubt that Potter will want to broadcast to the entire school that you defeated him in a duel."

"It wasn't a fair duel," Neville commented. "I could never beat him in a real duel."

"Maybe not now, but you will be able to beat him eventually," Draco pushed the door leading to the inside of the castle open. "I'll see to that."

"Okay, so he won't tell Hagrid," Neville chewed his lip as he followed Draco down the stairs toward the dungeons. "But knowing Harry, he will be dead set on revenge."

"Of course he will," Draco turned, taking backward steps so as to look at his housemate. "Out-fucking-standing."

"Wait," Neville stopped suddenly, his face whitening. "Why is that a good thing?"

"Because you bested him!" Draco's body oozed an intense hatred that made Neville flinch until he realized that the emotion was for Harry and not himself. No, Draco was his friend now. "He underestimated you, Neville! You made him understand that you are a force to be reckoned with."

"I did?" Neville grinned and gestured for Draco to continue the walk to the Slytherin dormitory. "A new bad boy in town, huh? I like it."

"Neville," Draco draped an arm around the other boy's broad shoulders. "You are about to be one of the Worst Boys."

"I am?"

"Oh yes," Draco's eyes gleamed in anticipation. "And do you know what comes with being one of the Worst?"

"The fear of your peers?"

"Well, yes, actually, that too," Draco's lip curled in wry amusement at Neville's assessment. "But also respect."

Neville's face clouded over. The one thing he always wanted and was never afforded. Respect. The one thing that he would do anything to obtain. Respect. The one thing that he would sacrifice anything to achieve. Respect.

"And you, Neville," Draco paused to give the Slytherin password before continuing. "Are way overdue for respect around here."

The pair entered the deserted Common Room. Immediately, the former Gryffindor sucked in a sharp breath of awe. The room was nothing like the Gryffindor Commons. He was instantly aware that there were no windows in the room. That was bad. He scanned the room, taking a detailed inventory: a fireplace that was nearly twice the size of Gryffindors (wow); leather couches and armchairs (nice); a huge bookcase lining one entire wall, stocked to the brim with fascinating titles (ooh).

Draco watched Neville's face go from dark to light as he took in the imposing room. "Well, better than the Tower, then?"

"Actually, yes," Neville said at once. "Except—there are no windows."

"Of course not!" Draco sounded horribly offended at the idea of light bearing holes being present in his House. "This is the dungeon after all!"

"No emergency exits, then?"

"Emergency exits?" Draco blinked at the odd question. "What would we need those for?"

"You know," Neville shrugged, a smile dancing across his features. "To escape from the bad guys."

"But we are the bad guys!"

The two boys stood in silence, staring at each other with questioning eyes before dissolving into a fit of hysterical laughter. Neville laughed at the absurdity that he was now one of the "Bad Guys". Draco laughed at the entire day. He really should pinch himself to make sure he was not in some bizarre dream sequence.

"Come on," Draco wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Let me show you the rest."


Neville shuffled his feet as he watched Draco slide his trunk under a window on the far wall. The room was spacious and warm. Wall length tapestries of the Slytherin emblem hung on either side of the large four-poster bed. Heavy silver candelabras holding thick black candles donned the mantelpiece over the fire. Draco's desk was neat, a large locked chest standing to one side. A dark green chaise sat in front of the fire, several velvet pillows scattered on top.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Draco gestured to the chaise as he shrugged out of his robes. "Sit down."

"You have a window in here?" Neville cleared his throat, suddenly very nervous about being in such close confines with the beautiful boy who was now his housemate.

"Not really," Draco glanced at the window and then back at Neville. "It's just a bit of enchanted wall. It is always the same scene. And always daytime."

"I am deeply shocked," Neville commented seriously. "I thought you preferred the shadows of night."

"Yes, well," Draco looked out the window again. "That is the general assumption, isn't it? And if you ever tell anyone about this window, I will so kill you."

Neville laughed, knowing instantly that the threat, while probably very real, was Draco's twisted idea of a joke. And oddly, Neville found it funny.

"I thought you'd be more comfortable staying in here with me tonight," Draco said suddenly, taking a key from his trouser pocket and going to the chest on his desk. "We can get you set up in the Seventh Year dorm tomorrow. If you'd like."

If I'd like?

Neville pondered on the possible meanings of that statement while Draco turned the key in the lock and opened the chest. He settled into his desk chair and took out several leather pouches. "We'll go down to dinner with everyone else, but first I have to get some baggies made up."

"Baggies?" Neville approached the desk and peered over Draco's shoulder. "What is it?"

"It's our newest line of E," Draco explained, holding up a white tablet with an embossed Snitch on it. "It is the White Snitch."

"Is that what you gave me for the Yule Ball?" Neville was at once repulsed and spellbound by the frank handling of the drug.

"Yes," Draco handed it to him for further inspection. "It was one of the first we produced. Father sent me just a few of them."

"And you gave one to me?" he handed the tablet back to Draco and went to sit on the bed. "Why?"

"Yeah," Draco began counting the small white pills and slipping them into individual pouches. "I thought you, of all people, could use the release. And this is our purest and strongest yet. It is so concentrated that we charge a lot more for it."

"And people still buy them?" Neville questioned. "Who here buys them?"

"Here," Draco leaned back in his chair to hand Neville a sheaf of papers. "This is the order list for the past two weeks. Everyone wants the Snitch, regardless of the price."

Neville scanned the pages, his eyes bulging out at the names he saw written there. There was no standard type of person who bought from Draco, he realized. There were rich and poor, Muggle-born and purebloods, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs… hell, every house!

"And you handle all of this?" Neville lowered the list and looked back at Draco, who was tying the pouches shut. "By yourself?"

"Yes," Draco stood and stretched. "The part that takes the longest is delivery and collection. The actual packaging takes very little time."

"And how much do you get to keep?"

"Of the profits?" Draco approached Neville, a spark of interest in his eye. "Twenty percent. I get as much E as I want."

"Hmm," Neville looked down at his hands. "Twenty percent? With an order list like that, I suppose you make a killing."

"Why?" Draco stood in front of Neville, his arms crossed over his chest. "You looking for a job?"

Neville met Draco's eyes, his chin set defiantly. "I imagine my Gran will be disowning me for breaking house."

"All right then," Draco reached out to untie Neville's plain black tie. "I'll cut you in. We'll split the profits. Ten for you and ten for me. Sound good?"

"Just like that?" Neville desperately tried to concentrate on Draco's words rather than his hands, which were pulling the tie from around his neck.

"That's it," Draco assured him, leaning his thighs against Neville's knees, distinctly aware of the reaction he was garnering from the dark boy. "I'll make it known tonight that you are in."

"Great," Neville's hands reached out for Draco's waist, pulling him between his legs. "Shall we seal it with a kiss, then?"

Draco's tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his lower lip as he nodded slowly. Neville slid his hands up Draco's back, gently encouraging him to lean forward. Draco lowered his mouth to kiss Neville lingeringly.

Kissing Draco was sinfully delicious, Neville decided. And he was certain that he never wanted to stop. Those lips were too tempting, too sweet, too yielding. Draco's hands were playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, driving him to a heightened sense of madness.

"Neville," Draco trailed his lips across Neville's cheek to his ear. "I am close to taking complete advantage of you. So, I suggest you push me away now if you are at all opposed to that."

Neville's hands gripped Draco's shoulders and pulled him down on the matress. "You're not going anywhere."


The light from the window in Draco's room fell across the bed, illuminating Neville's face and bared upper torso. Draco propped himself up on his elbows and watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his lover's chest as he slept. Draco was tempted to drift off to sleep, but a quick consultation of his watch showed him that dinner was in under an hour. He had deliveries to make.

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Draco considered the matter of the House Break. He had been well and truly shocked by Neville's defection from the sainted Gryffindor House. He had, of course, readily accepted Neville as a Slytherin. Anyone who was willing to turn his back on seven years of friendship was definitely a Slytherin at heart.

He was pleased that Neville was with him. He was willing to let it be known that Neville was with him both for business and for pleasure. In fact, he intended to do just that tonight at dinner. He was not one for shows of public affection, but this was different, he told himself quite convincingly. He was simply marking his territory. That's all.

Neville shifted closer to Draco's body, making Draco smile fondly at the sleeping boy. He smoothed the dark hair off of Neville's forehead, thinking that it was fortunate that Neville was a Slytherin now. None of that hideous sneaking off to broom closets or the Astronomy Tower for them—not when there were beds behind locked doors right in their own House.

"Neville," Draco rolled onto his side and kissed Neville on his tanned shoulder. "Time for wakey-poo!"

"Nuh-uh," Neville murmured, burying his face into Draco's neck. "Want to stay in bed."

"I can't blame you," Draco trailed his fingers down Neville's soft chest. "But we have work to do. Come on, get up."

"Oh, I'm up," Neville's eyebrows waggled suggestively, even though his eyes remained tightly shut.

"Cheeky one, aren't you?" Draco laughed and pulled away. He scooted off the bed and began dressing in black trousers and a blue button-up shirt. "Fine, then. I'll go off on my own. Perhaps someone else would be interested in assisting me."

"Fine," Neville sat up instantly at the threat of being replaced. "I'll go with you. But I reserve the right to be grumpy."

"Shut up and get dressed," Draco hid his amused smile from Neville. It would not do to let Neville see how much he enjoyed his wit. "Do you have anything casual?"

"A few things," Neville reached down for the boxers lying beside the bed and slipped them on under the covers before getting to his feet and pattering over to his trunk. He opened the trunk and rummaged around until he found a maroon tee-shirt and tan pants.

"Oh, no no no no!" Draco rushed forward to snatch the shirt from Neville's hands. "You can not wear this!"

"Why not?"

"It is a Gryffindor color! We don't do Gryffindork red. Ever. Even under pain of death." Draco tossed the offending shirt into the fire without further comment. He turned to his wardrobe, plucked out a dark green V-neck shirt and tossed it to Neville who was gaping at him indignantly. "Wear this. It will be dramatically symbolic."

"Symbolic of what?" Neville demanded, even as he pulled the shirt over his head. "Of the fact that I am yours or that I am a Slytherin?"

"Whichever," Draco said evasively. "Does it matter?"

"No," Neville stepped into his khaki pants and padded to the mirror to look at his reflection. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the shirt fit him well, if not a little snuggly. The green was very flattering to his skin tone and matched his pants wonderfully. Neville paused and looked at the mirror with narrowed eyes. He waited. "Hey, doesn't your mirror talk?"

"No," Draco came behind Neville, holding a set of robes out for Neville to slip into. "Should it?"

"Well," Neville blushed slightly. "We—the Gryffindors, that is, always assumed that you had a mirror that flattered you ruthlessly. You know, to feed your overlarge ego."

"Oh," Draco wasn't sure if he should be offended or amused. He decided on flippant, just to be safe. "Why would I need a mirror to tell me what I already know?"

Neville watched Draco secure the front of his robes with a silver clasp. This was it. His first time in a Slytherin robe. He stared at the Slytherin emblem over his heart with excitement. The transformation was complete. There was no going back now.

"Well," he spun around to face Draco, his arms held out wide. "How do I look?"

"Very Slytherin," Draco tapped the tip of his nose quickly. "Let's go."

Neville stepped into his shoes and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. He watched as Draco picked up the leather pouches he had separated earlier and stuffed them into his robe pocket. He handed Neville the order list as they entered the Common Room.

Pansy was waiting sitting in front of the fire, waiting for them. She joined them with nod of approval at Neville's appearance and the threesome headed out the door. They would not get far, however, for sitting in their path, directly outside of their entrance, was Ginny Weasley.

Pansy and Draco stood shoulder-to-shoulder, shielding Neville from Ginny, an act that was oddly endearing but also quite ridiculous to Neville.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco demanded without preamble.

Ginny did not stand up. Her neck craned back to be able to look at Draco directly. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were tear-streaked. When she spoke, her voice was paper-thin. "I need to talk to Neville."

"And what if Neville does not want to talk to you?" Pansy asked, the sweetness in her voice too over the top to be real. "Won't that just break your wittle heart?"

"It's okay, guys," Neville put a hand on his self-appointed guardians' shoulders. "I'll talk to her. Can you give us a few minutes?"

Draco whipped around to give Neville a thunderous scowl. He was not accustomed to being dismissed. The troubled look in Neville's eyes was the only thing that spared Neville from receiving the tongue lashing of his life. Draco nodded stiffly and pulled Pansy down the hall.

With the other two Slytherins gone, Neville offered Ginny his hand, helping her stand. She got to her feet, but kept Neville's hand firmly clamped in her grip.

"Why are you here, Ginny?" Neville prompted softly. "What do you want?"

"I need you to talk to me," Ginny told him. "I need to understand why you did this thing. There is no turning back now."

"I know that," Neville pulled his hand free and leaned against the wall. He took in Ginny's unkempt appearance and worried look with a sigh. "But don't you think it is a bit late to be caring?"

"You never told me you were thinking about breaking house!"

"Of course I didn't," he snapped, making Ginny flinch. "You made it perfectly clear that you did not approve of my friendship with Malfoy."

"Friendship?" Ginny's face screwed into confusion. "Neville, you were kissing him!"

"It doesn't matter at this point," Neville rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. "Are we finished?"

"No," Ginny yelled, advancing on her friend. "How dare you turn your back on me! I have been your best friend for five years! I deserve more than this!"

"Do you?" Neville asked her sarcastically. "I have listened to every single one of your 'isn't my boyfriend great' stories, hell, I helped you finally get the git! I helped you with your Herbology. I took you to every single ball we had, just so you could leave me at the punch bowl while you danced with Potte! No, I think I deserve more from you."

"Potter?" Ginny's eyes widened in disbelief. "How is it possible that you have changed so entirely in just one day?"

"See, that is what I mean," Neville's dark eyes glittered dangerously. "If you really cared, you would know that I have not changed at all. I am just finally free to live the way I want."

"You want to be a ruthless and spineless Slytherin?" Ginny countered, drawing herself up to her full height, unwilling to back down. "You want to be the scourge of Hogwarts?"

"Leave me alone, Ginny," Neville shouldered past Ginny, turning once he was halfway down the corridor. "And watch what you say about Slytherin. I might not take it as well next time."

Ginny watched Neville round the corner, where she was sure his new housemates had been waiting, eavesdropping. She was furious. Maybe Harry had the right idea after all.

Pansy and Draco were indeed waiting and listening around the corner as Neville and Ginny had it out with one another.

"Neville, you were kissing him!"

"Kissing?" Pansy turned to look at Draco with an inquisitive face. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Well," Draco leaned closer to Pansy, whispering. "Between you, me and the suit of armor, there was a bit more than kissing."

"Oh my god, really?" Pansy elbowed her friend in the ribs for not telling her this tidbit earlier. "I think details are in order!"

"Later," Draco pushed her amiably. "Just listen."

"Draco and Neville sitting in a tree," Pansy sang in a whisper, much to Draco's horror. "F-U-C-K-I-N-G…"

"Shut up," he hissed sternly, his broad smile cushioning the blow of his harsh words. "Here comes Neville!"

Neville rounded the corner, colliding directly into Draco. "Ooof—sorry."

"No harm done," Draco held Neville's elbows, steadying him and pulling him closer. He kissed him quickly on the mouth before releasing him. "Let's to dinner!"

"Ah, pretty boy love," Pansy teased, linking arms with the two boys. "So sweet!"

"Sod off," Neville told her conversationally, tucking her arm further into the crook of his arm.


After dinner, Neville went with Draco to the library, where they sat with a stack of books surrounding them. Neville thought the set up looked rather like the payment counter at Flourish & Blotts.

"What are we doing here?" Neville asked as Draco idly flipped through a book on the fauna of the Amazon. "I mean, besides looking at the pretty pictures?"

"We are making our deliveries," Draco told him, leaning down to look closer at a picture. "And are you mocking my book of choice? It's about plants. I thought you would approve."

"Oh, heartily," Neville assured him with a vigorous nod. "I've read that book several times."

"Anyway," Draco looked as if he did not believe Neville. "It would be too suspicious for me to just show up at the door to each house. I mean, like they'd let me in, right? Can you imagine? 'Knock, knock-- Slytherin calling!' So, I assign each person a time to come meet me here."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Neville leaned back in his chair, a dejected look on his face. "Sounds like you've got everything under control."

"Of course I do," Draco looked surprised that Neville had ever doubted his ability to handle the situation alone. "But I can only schedule them fifteen minutes apart to insure their privacy."

"You actually give a sod about their privacy?"

"Oh no, not me," the look of horror on Draco's face nearly had Neville guffawing out loud. "But they care. They don't want anyone to know their dirty little secret."

"The drugs?"

"No," Draco grinned devilishly. "That they get them from me."

Neville rolled his eyes. "Then we are going to split the list and both make deliveries?"

"Exactly."

Neville looked up as the door to the library opened. Padma Patil looked at the table in the corner warily. She caught sight of Neville and visibly tensed. Before she could turn to leave, Draco held up his hand to beckon her to him.

"Patil," Draco tossed her one of the small pouches. "Two White Snitches."

"What is—" Padma shot a questioning glance at Neville.

"Neville is my new partner," Draco supplied shortly. "He will be your new contact. You will receive instructions as to your new pick up site with your next order."

Padma was so surprised at that information that she turned away from the table without paying Draco. Draco nudged Neville and nodded his head toward the retreating Padma.

"Padma, dear," Neville called out, his voice sounding more confident than he actually felt. "There is the matter of payment."

"Oh, right," Padma hurried back to the table, where she dropped several coins on the table. "Sorry, Neville."

"No harm done," Neville said cheerily, echoing Draco's earlier sentiment. "See you soon. My regards to your sister."

When the library door swung shut, Draco looked at Neville, his grey eyes full of respect. "You are a natural."

"A natural drug dealer?" Neville laughed ironically. "Gran would be so proud!"

The evening crept past at an alarmingly slow rate. Each delivery brought a newly surprised customer, more coins and, with half of the customers, an announcement that Neville was to be their new point of contact.

At the end of the evening, the pair made their way back to the Slytherin dormitory, their money pouch heavy with coin. Neville was giddy with what he felt sure was power. He liked it and intended to feel it more often. For the umpteenth time that day, Neville sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he had broke house.

"What's that?" Draco stopped in front of the entranceway to Slytherin House, staring down at a small wooden box. He bent to retrieve the box, but stopped when he heard Neville's strangled cry. "What's wrong?"

"That's mine," Neville said softly, going down on his knees. "Or rather, it's Ginny's and mine. We keep pictures and letters and stuff in here."

Draco joined his dark-haired companion on the floor and waited for Neville to remove the top. He noticed that the other boy's hands were trembling when he lifted the lid and dropped it to the floor. Inside the box was a stack of photographs, which Neville distractedly handed to Draco. Beneath the photographs was a royal blue hair ribbon, a silver handled mirror and a small, circular bronze wire.

Neville blinked. He reached out and picked up the bronze wire, looking at it as if he had never seen it before. Draco watched him, unsure what to do or say. Finally, Neville reached into his robe and pulled out his wand, holding it out for Draco to see. Draco looked at it for a moment before seeing what Neville wanted him to see: a bit of circular bronze wire at the base of his wand, just above the handle, identical to that which he held in his hand. Draco knew that the wire was important, but for the life of him, he could not guess why.

"I've got to go," Neville stood up and ran back down the hallway, leaving Draco alone on the floor. Draco put the photographs back in the box, replaced the lid and picked it up. He was pretty certain where Neville was going and that he would want the box kept safe and sound until he returned to claim it. Draco marveled at the trust Neville so easily gave to him.

"Lord," Draco mumbled as he entered the Common Room. "I knew I shouldn't have adopted a Gryffindor."

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To Be Continued