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.
The lyrics for "Blue Like That" were written by Shawn Colvin.
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.
WARNING: Severe Angst ahead. Seriously. The next chapter is actually worse. Sorry in advance.
Chapter Six: Arms of the Angel
Give me one reason to stay here - and I'll turn right back around
Give me one reason to stay here - and I'll turn right back around
Because I don't want leave you lonely
But you got to make me change my mind
"Give Me One Reason" by Tracy Chapman
Harry sat on Ginny's bed, his arms crossed over his chest, looking very much like a pouty child. He glared at Ginny's back as she fussed with her hair.
"I cannot believe that you are going to a Slytherin party," Harry fairly whined. "And without me."
"Oh, is that the problem?" Ginny turned away from the mirror, a condescendingly sweet smile on her glossed lips. "Did you want to come, honey?"
"Of course not," Harry snapped, horrified. "Have you actually lost your mind, Gin? Me! At a Slytherin soiree. That's rich!"
"Oh, Harry," Ginny laughed and went to drape her arms around her boyfriend's shoulders. "I'm just going for a couple of hours. You'll play chess with Ron and I'll be home before the stroke of midnight."
"And you actually want to go?" Harry uncrossed his arms and let them rest lightly on her hips, eyeing her suspiciously. "I mean, they haven't hit you with an Imperius have they?"
"Yes," Ginny ignored the jibe at the questionable reputations of her Slytherin friends and kissed Harry's nose. "I want to go. It is important to Neville that I go."
"Neville, Neville, Neville," Harry sighed dramatically, leaning in to kiss the hollow of Ginny's neck sweetly. "I swear, I hear more about that sod now that he is in Slytherin than I ever did with him underfoot."
"Harry," Ginny warned. There was a fine line between gentle teasing and outright meanness. "Don't."
"Fine, fine, go," Harry tilted his face so that his girlfriend could kiss him goodbye. "But tomorrow, you are all mine. No Slytherins. Hell, no Gryffindors. Just you and me."
"Deal," the petite red head hugged Harry tightly, wildly pleased that he wanted to be alone with her for a full day. Whenever she began to doubt his love, he always managed to reassure her. How could she have doubted that Harry was anything other than a good man? "I love you, Harry. I really do."
"I love you, too, Gin," Harry pushed her out of his arms with a smile. "Now, get out of here. Go be Slytherin if you must."
Neville smoothed the front of his new robes in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves. Draco would be returning from his weeklong suspension in a matter of minutes. Just in time to enjoy the Slytherin Celebration, already in progress.
His robes, ordered especially for the occasion, were the exact green of the Slytherin Quidditch robes, but instead of thick wool, they were made from raw silk. A thin cord of silver trimmed the edges and hem of the robes. A small silver and red dragon was embroidered over the heart area. He hoped that Draco liked them.The week without Draco had been quick but intense. From the very first day, he noted that the Slytherins naturally looked to him for leadership in Draco's absence. He was surprised that he had not stumbled beneath the pressure, but instead had stepped up as if he had always been in charge. He was, indubitably, powerful and influential. His word was law. And he reveled in the feeling.
It was him the Slytherins surrounded as they moved between classes. When they went to eat, it was Neville who signaled the start of the meal—just by lifting his fork. Most surprisingly, it was Neville that the other houses feared. They skirted around him during classes and gave him wide berth in the corridors. It was almost as if they feared him, as if he had given them reason to cower beneath his steady gaze.
It was true that he had had to take a few drastic measures to collect on some overdue accounts, but surely they debtors expected retribution. Had those who had suffered under Neville's punishment told their friends who was responsible for their bruises? Or was it possible that Neville now exuded danger and power in his very being? Whichever, he did not care.
The former Gryffindor inhaled deeply, pride seething through his skin, making his face glow. He had survived without Draco. Finally, he had proven himself worthy of the name Slytherin and, more importantly, he had proven himself worthy of Draco.
Neville turned away from the mirror, picked up his wand and a pouch containing several White Snitches, sliding both into his pocket. It was time.
He entered the Common Room, but stayed unobtrusively against the wall, surveying the room. Loud, thumping music permeated the room, which was already filling with witches and wizards from various houses. The ceiling had been enchanted to show a scene of exploding lights. Twinkling fairy lights hung over the doorways, providing the only source of constant light, casting an eerie glow around the room. Several leather couches had been moved into the room, lining the walls that normally housed study desks. Near the hallway leading to the dormitories, the Quidditch Cup sat, gleaming proudly.
Students were pouring into the room from three entrances: from the girls' dormitories, from the boys' dormitories and through the portrait hole. Select students from the other three houses had been invited, and not one had dared to refuse the invitation. As a result the room was peppered with awed Ravenclaws, clueless Hufflepuffs and scared-but-would-rather-die-than-show-it Gryffindors. Neville smirked.
"You did great," Pansy commented, coming to stand beside Neville. "Draco will be pleased."
Neville nodded vaguely, his eyes glued on the door leading into the Common Room from the outside hallway, watching for any sign of his returning lover. Pansy took up sentry next to him, chewing absently on her lower lip. She had missed her best friend and was desperate for his return.
"Who are we watching for?"
Neville spun around, his face breaking into an unaffected smile of joy. "Draco!"
Draco opened his arms to catch Neville who threw himself forcefully at the blond. He wrapped his strong arms around Neville and lifted him off the floor, enjoying the feel of his lover's body against his own.
Suddenly, the week did not seem so cumbersome. All of Neville's nerves melted away as his face found the familiar crook of Draco's graceful neck. The room, it seemed to the pair, faded into a field of blackness where only Draco and Neville existed; their embrace set to the soundtrack of their pounding hearts and ragged breaths.
"So glad—"
"You're back—"
"Don't let—"
"Won't—"
"So much—"
"Me, too—"
"Dance—"
"With you—"
"With you—"
Draco began pulling Neville to the center of the room. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as they passed. Someone, sensing the seriousness of their countenance, hastily changed the music pulsing throughout the room to a softer ballad.
Today we took a walk up the street
And picked a flower and climbed the hill
Above the lake
They swayed in time with the music, their bodies moving inexorably closer to one another. Dark and light, coming together. So right.
And secret thoughts were said aloud
We watched the faces in the clouds
Until the clouds had blown away
Pansy smiled, watching as the room became still, serious. Every set of eyes was on the boys. It was as if a spell had been cast, freezing them all, forcing them to witness this touching and momentous scene.
And were we ever somewhere else
You know, it's hard to say
Neville leaned his forehead against the Draco's. Brown eyes locked on grey, no words sullying the moment.
And I never saw blue like that before
Across the sky
Around the world
You've given me all you have and more
And no one else has ever shown me how
To see the world the way I see it now
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that
Draco slid his hands down Neville's silk covered arms, seeking out the boy's smooth hands. Their fingers laced together, palm to palm, soul to soul.
I can't believe a month ago
I was alone, I didn't know you
I hadn't seen or heard you're name
And even now, I'm so amazed
It's like a dream, it's like a rainbow, it's like the rain
Neville tilted his head, rolling away from Draco's forehead, his lips descending slowly to Draco's for their first kiss of the night. Draco's eyes closed with a flutter of lashes.
And some things are the way they are
And words just can't explain
The room exhaled a deeply wistful sigh as Draco pulled Neville's arms around his waist, their finger still locked. Draco was the absolute picture of surrender with his arms trapped behind his back.
Cause I never saw blue like that before
Across the sky
Around the world
Neville felt as if he was falling. Draco was making love to his mouth, in front of most of the school. It was a declaration. It was a consignment. It was wonderful.
You've given me all you have and more
And no one else has ever shown me how
To see the world the way I see it now
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that before
Draco pulled his mouth away from Neville's, leaning forward so that their cheeks were touching. "I love you."
And it feels like now,
And it feels always,
And it feels like coming home
Neville bowed his head, quick tears springing to his eyes.
I never saw blue like that before
Across the sky
Around the world
You've given me all you have and more
And no one else has ever shown me how
To see the world the way I see it now
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that before
"I love you, too."
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that
"How long have they been at this?" Ginny asked Pansy as she sipped on her fourth Butterbeer of the evening. "I haven't been able to say hello yet."
Pansy followed Ginny's eyes to Draco and Neville, who were bumping and grinding against each other in the middle of the room. Despite the fact that the floor was wall-to-wall people, it was easy to pick out the incontrovertible leaders of Slytherin House.
"They came off the dance floor for a drink about an hour ago," Pansy told her, smiling wryly. "I think they took a White Snitch. They'll be at it for hours."
"Oh," Ginny's brow creased in concern. There goes Neville's promise to stay away from drugs. "Do they do this often? The drugs?"
"No. In fact, this is the first time I've seen Draco rolling since the Yule Ball," Pansy confided as she put her drink on a nearby surface. She turned to the girl beside her and set a sly smile on her face. "But why are we talking about them? This is a party. Let's... party."
"Okay," Ginny nodded tentatively. She let Pansy take her drink and set it down.
"Let's dance."
The Gryffindor girl, who was on the drunk-side of the Sober Line, let her waifish friend pull her into the tight knot of sweating, dancing students. They chose a spot close to Draco and Neville and began dancing.
Within moments, Ginny let the music invade her senses, removing the last remaining shards of her inhibitions. She gyrated and jumped and thrashed until sweat was pouring down her face. The heat was unbearable. She paused in her dancing long enough to unbutton her robes and toss them over the heads of the dancing throng to one of the couches surrounding the dance area, leaving her in a short, gray pleated skirt and a white cotton tee-shirt.
Pansy eyed her white knee socks with interest.
Draco and Neville approached the pair of dancing girls, both holding tankards of Butterbeer. Neville handed his to Ginny, who drank it down greedily.
"Whoa," Neville laughed when she handed him back the empty mug. "You are going to be so drunk!"
"Too late," Ginny threw her arms up in the air and turned back to Pansy, who had her back against Draco's chest, dancing with her eyes closed. "Hey, you stole my partner, Malfoy!"
"Shall we share?" Draco suggested, his blond hair plastered to his head, yet still looking distressingly better than everyone else in the room. He threaded his arms through Pansy's and reached for Ginny.
Ginny gasped out loud as she was yanked forward, her chest banging against Pansy's. She nearly lost her balance, but Neville's strong arms steadied her by her waist. She turned to look at her best friend questioningly. He smiled reassuringly and then stepped closer, bringing his chest to her back.
Her head swam with music and beer and images. She felt four more hands touch her body as she began to move in the tangle. Her face was barely centimeters from Pansy's throat and she fancied that she could see the other girl's pulse moving beneath her skin.
Hands. Hands, everywhere. Hands touching her face, Draco's hands, tilting her chin up. And lips, soft, soft lips coming down on hers. Ginny let her eyes close, enjoying the gentle yet insistent caress. It was maddening, the tenderness, the slowness of the kiss.
Ginny's arms came up to grasp the person closest to her—Pansy. She felt the weight of Neville shift slightly to one side. She dared to open her eyes. She saw her best friend and his lover, leaning over her shoulder, kissing each other hotly.
Oh my god.
Ginny focused her drunken mind long enough to recognize the fact that she was kissing Pansy Parkinson. And that the realization caused quite a heady rush. She felt Draco's hands drop away from her face and yet the kiss continued.
Hermione hurried down the stairs from the girls' dormitory, her eyes scanning the Common Room for any sign of Ginny. It was nearly sunrise and the young Gryffindor had not yet returned from what Harry had described as "a Slytherin cesspool masquerading as a party". The bushy-haired girl held her dressing gown closer to her body and stepped out of the portrait hole to consult with the Fat Lady.
"Good morning, Hermione," the Fat Lady chirped gaily. "It's a bit early for you lot to be up and about!"
"Yes, it is," Hermione stifled a yawn. "Could you tell me if Ginny Weasley has returned?"
"No, dear," the painting shook her head slowly.
Hermione wiped her eyes with the heel of her hands, wondering what to do next.
"But," the Fat Lady interrupted her thoughts, making Hermione jump. "I did talk to Viola, the handmaiden, who had been visiting with Count von Hügenstein. She said that she and the Count were going for a leisurely stroll around the castle when they came upon a bawdy house. Viola reported that young Miss Weasley was acting most peculiar."
"Peculiar?" Hermione repeated.
"Yes, quite," the Fat Lady adjusted herself into a more comfortable position for sharing gossip. "You see, it seems that Miss Weasley has a penchant for other young witches!"
"What?" Hermione blinked, unsure of what she was hearing. "Witches?"
"Oh, yes," the Fat Lady nodded, pleased as punch that she was the first—well, technically the third—with the information. "Viola said that she was very entangled with Miss Parkinson of Slytherin. With both of her boy watchers close at hand."
"Oh, my," Hermione blurted out the password ("Everything's dandy"), causing the Fat Lady to swing forward abruptly. "Thank you!"
Once back in the confines of Gryffindor Tower, Hermione sat on the couch. She was torn. Should she wake Harry and send him after his girlfriend, who might be in serious trouble; or did she trust that Ginny was making her own choices and would return safely? The brilliant young witch had been burnt by Neville's willing affiliation with Draco. At first, Hermione had thought that Neville was being coerced or even blackmailed. But when she saw Neville and Draco together now, she knew that nothing could be further from the truth.
What if it was the same with Ginny? It was true that Harry was her best friend, but wouldn't it be best for him to learn now that Ginny was not interested in him for the long haul? Wouldn't it be better for Ginny to be where she wanted to be instead of where she was expected to be?
Hermione did not want to answer either question. She leaned her elbow on her knees and stared into the fire. In 60 seconds, I will get up and either go up to my room or Harry's.
Hermione closed her eyes and counted, much slower than she normally would, to sixty. 5...4...3...2... 2... 1...
She stood, calmly, knowing that her instincts would take her down the best, most logical route.
The room was hot and muggy. A few people continued to dance in the middle of the room, but the majority of the revelers were sprawled out on the sofas or on the floor. Some were sleeping, some were talking quietly; others had found themselves a partner and were snogging.
On one of the couches, Neville sat on Draco's lap, kissing his boyfriend leisurely. They were coming down from their roll and they were both exhausted, but neither could bear the thought of sleeping just yet. They were too ecstatic about being reunited to worry about sleep!
Beside them on the couch, Ginny was stretched out on top of Pansy, both girls sleeping. Pansy's right hand was tucked into the waistband of the other girl's short skirt, the left hand lightly touching Ginny's hip. Ginny, for her part, had her face buried in the crook of Pansy's pale neck, her arm casually resting on Pansy's chest, a lock of Pansy's golden hair thread through her fingers.
A pounding on the wall outside of the Slytherin portrait hole made several of the students jump, including Draco and Neville. The group closest to the entrance turned to look at Neville for guidance. The sleepy but still in charge boy nodded and gestured for the group to investigate.
"It's 4:30," Neville commented as they waited to see what the commotion was. "I guess we should send everyone off to bed."
"Thank you for the party, Nev," Draco yawned largely. "I think this will go down in history as the best Slytherin party of the year! Everyone was happy, no major issues, Pansy got some action—"
As if following the cue of Cruel Fate, the group of Slytherin investigators returned, with an armed Harry Potter in tow. Neville's eyes flicked instantly to Ginny, who was still sleeping.
Draco felt his boyfriend tense and was ready to follow his lead. Neville quickly got to his feet and stood in front of Ginny and Pansy. Draco jumped up and stood shoulder to shoulder next to Neville, attempting to shield the two girls from view.
"I don't believe you were on the guest list, Potter," Neville said by way of greeting. "And even if you were, you are way beyond fashionably late and are bordering on down right rude!"
"I would not be here if you did not have something of mine," Harry shot back, his wand clenched in his hands. "And once I retrieve it, I will be leaving once again."
"We don't have anything of yours, Potter," Draco growled, incensed at the reference that Ginny was a belonging. "Now, get out."
"Where is Ginny?" Harry ignored Draco entirely, his eyes still fixed on Neville. "I am taking her home."
"No," Neville told his former friend quietly, his voice firm. "She will return to Gryffindor Tower when she is ready."
"I don't think you understand," Harry raised his wand, pointing it at Neville's chest. The Slytherins who were awake clambered to their feet at this threat on their leader. Harry caught their movement out of the corner of his eyes. "Tell your henchmen to get out of here or I will hurt you. Badly."
"No," Neville said again.
"Tell them to leave," Harry turned slightly, aiming his wand at Draco. "Or I will hurt him badly."
Draco shook his head at Neville who had tensed visibly. "No, Neville, he hasn't got it in him."
"Haven't I?" Harry asked, threateningly.
"Everyone go," Neville barked to the room. "Now."
The Slytherins quickly scurried down the stairs into the dormitories, casting worried glances over their shoulders. The few remaining Hufflepuffs ran from the room, out the portrait hole. The only stragglers were those too far into drunken slumber to have been woken by Neville's command.
"Happy now, Potter?" Draco hissed. "Now there is no one around to witness your cowardice."
"Cowardice?" Harry cocked his head, considering. "How am I a coward?"
"We have not drawn our wands," Draco pointed out evenly. "You have threatened us, but you will not let us defend ourselves?"
"Neville couldn't defend himself if he wanted to," Harry chuckled at his barb. "There is no need to defend yourselves if you just stand aside—as I realize that neither of you have budged from your current positions. I assume that it is Ginny you are shielding."
Neville's chin set in determination. He had been practicing his dueling skills with Draco, but he was nowhere close to being able to defeat Harry Potter, the bloody Saviour of the bloody world. Of course, he might have still stood a fighting chance had it not been for the fact that the Ecstasy was still coursing through his veins. He was on the way down, but it was still very difficult for him to concentrate. And concentration, as any wizard worth his salt would tell you, is imperative in a duel.
"Neville is perfectly able to defend himself," Draco said with more conviction than Neville felt was warranted. Draco had to know that was not necessarily the truth. "Can't you, Nev?"
"This is ridiculous," Harry exhaled sharply, flicking his wand impatiently. "Stand aside or I'll--"
A feminine sigh stopped Harry mid-threat. He sprang forward and shoved Neville to one side, creating a hole through which he could spy his long time girlfriend, wrapped around Pansy Parkinson, sleeping with a smile on her face. It took Harry a few moments to realize what he saw. He took in the positioning of Ginny's body and the placement of Pansy's hands. Finally, he noticed the hair that encased Ginny's fingers. The girls were twined together in much the same way that Harry and Ginny often were—as lovers. Shocked, he stumbled back to his original position.
Draco snatched his wand from his robes and pointed it at Harry. "I suggest you leave."
"This is your fault," Harry yelled at Neville. Ginny shifted against Pansy. "Draw your wand."
Neville fumbled for his wand, feeling the confidence he had built up over the past months crumbling like the great wall of Jericho. He could not win, of that he was sure. He finally held his wand in his hand, but he still felt unarmed.
"No!" Ginny shrieked from her place on the sofa, sitting up abruptly. Pansy's eyes flew open. "Harry, no!"
"It's time Neville remembers his place," Harry growled.
"Hurt him, Potter," Draco's eyes were wide and anxious. "And I swear—"
"Expelliarmus," Harry pointed his wand nonchalantly at Draco, sending the blond sprawling. He bent and retrieved the wand at his feet. "Boy, you sure are easy to take out."
"Oh, no," Pansy scrambled from under Ginny and fell to the floor, crawling over to Draco. "Potter, you idiot."
"Pansy?" Neville, catching the note of worry in Pansy's voice pushed Harry aside and went down on his knees at Draco's side. "What's wrong?"
Pansy jammed her index and middle fingers against the pulse point in Draco's neck. Her face twisted into horror. "Go get Madam Pomfrey!"
Ginny leapt from the couch and dashed a bit unsteadily out the portrait hole.
"What is it, Pansy?" Neville repeated, frantically. He cupped Draco's face in his hands and shook him gently. "Wake up, Draco. Get up."
"The disarming spell," Pansy rasped. "You aren't supposed to use that when you are on Ecstasy. Expelliarmus speeds up your heart when it hits you. Like adrenalin. But when you're rolling, your heart rate is already fast. It can ki—"
"No," Neville yelled, startling Pansy. "Don't say it!"
Harry stood over the scene, not understanding what was transpiring. Draco was still on his back, his arms thrown wide apart. His face, in Neville's hands, was smooth and peaceful. He had knocked plenty of people out with his disarming spells. He was, after all, one of the most powerful wizards of the day.
"Hurry, Ginny," Pansy whimpered miserably, gripping Draco's hand in hers. "You'll be okay, Draco. You'll be fine."
Several unbearable minutes later, Ginny returned with a flustered Madam Pomfrey who was still in her nightcap. The mediwitch went to work immediately on Draco, barking orders to the four students in attendance.
"Potter, go fetch Dumbledore. Password is Nummy Yummies. Weasley, hand me that stethoscope. Parkinson, help me get his robes off. Longbottom—you just sit tight."
Neville sat, his fingers touching whatever part of Draco he could reach as Madam Pomfrey worked feverishly. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was lay down next to Draco and sleep until the world returned to normal.
Minutes later, Madam Pomfrey sat back on her haunches, her face grim. She looked at Professor Dumbledore, who was rushing into the room, his wand out and ready. "Headmaster..."
"No," Neville whispered. "Don't say it."
"I'm sorry, Headmaster," the frazzled Madam Pomfrey said sadly.
"No," Neville laid down, the top of Draco's head cradled against his chest. "Please don't say it."
"Malfoy is dead."
A/N: Yes, yes, I know. I killed him. I'm sorry. Really, The Story made me do it.