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.
Chapter Nine: Precious Pain
Each road that I walk down
Reminds me of you
This whole town is haunted
There'll never be anything new
Precious pain
Empty and cold but it keeps me alive
I gave it my soul so that I could survive
Keeping me safe in these chains
Precious pain
---Precious Pain by Melissa Etheridge
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had experienced quite a few shocks. It was becoming standard practice to be surprised. So much so that it was often a shock to NOT be surprised on a weekly basis.
So, when Neville Malfoy appeared at breakfast with Pansy Parkinson's hand held firmly in his own in what was categorically not a friendly gesture, the Hogwarts population barely took notice. It seemed only natural that the reigning king united with the longtime queen of Slytherin House. Never mind that they had all thought Neville was gay. Never mind the Incident between Pansy and Ginny Weasley. This latest development was child's play in comparison to what they had seen over the past year.
The school year was coming to an end. The Seventh Years were beginning to wax poetic about their time at Hogwarts. None more so than Harry Potter and his friends.
"This has been a difficult year," Hermione sighed over her plate of toast, watching Neville from across the room. "I cannot believe I'm saying this, but I am ready to be done with school."
Ron dropped his fork while Harry choked on his juice.
"Well," Hermione tutted. "It's true. The drama within these walls is getting too much for me to bear. I am looking forward to a nice, long, relaxing summer."
"I agree, Hermione," Harry nodded seriously, his eyes also on Neville. "But there is something I have to do first."
"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"
"Hermione!" Ron pulled an offended face. "Have we ever done?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Harry. "Harry, you must let it go."
"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin to the table. "I won't do anything to injure him. Well, not bodily, anyway."
"Then, what?"
"We think this new Malfoy could do with a bit of a dent in his pride," Harry told her vaguely. "He'll fully recover, I'm sure."
Hermione glared at Harry until he rolled his infamous green eyes.
"We are going to hex him," Harry revealed with a small laugh. "We've been doing research and have found a good one."
"Research?!" Hermione gasped, confused by Harry's use of the word. "Since when do you—?"
"Do you want to hear it or not?" Harry cut off her with a scowl. When she closed her mouth and nodded, he continued. "We are going to hex him so that he is forced to live a moment in time over and over again."
"What?"
"It will look like he's lost his mind, see," Ron laughed at the brilliance of the plan. "Because the rest of the school will carry on, but Neville will be in his own little world."
Hermione looked disgusted.
"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry sighed in exasperation. At that moment, he could not recall why he was a friend of Hermione's. She was such a killjoy. "It won't last long. An hour at the most."
"And what moment, pray tell," Hermione inquired stiffly. "Will Neville be reliving?"
"Oh, that," Ron shrugged. "That's the beauty of it. We don't pick the moment. Neville does. Whatever he happens to be thinking about when we hit him with the hex. That thought or memory or whatever—that is the moment."
It sounded harmless enough. But Hermione remained unconvinced. Neville did not deserve such treatment. He had once been their friend, and that she could not forget.
"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry patted her arm reassuringly. "It's perfectly safe. It's not like it'll kill him."
Harry and Ron laughed loudly, but Hermione seethed. How could Harry joke so blithely about death so soon after the incident with Draco Malfoy? Was he really so cold-hearted? She shuddered, afraid of the answer.
"I got an owl from Lucius," Neville whispered to Pansy during Potions. "He heard about us."
"Oh, he did?" Pansy paled significantly. "What did he say?"
"He said that Draco would be pleased to see that we are together," Neville peered into their cauldron in an attempt to look studious. "Pleased that we have moved on."
Pansy snorted in disbelief. She knew Draco better than that. He would hate to see them together.
"I know," Neville chuckled softly. "Draco would kill us."
"Did he say anything else?"
"That he will expect you to come stay the summer with us at the Manor," Neville turned his head slightly to look at Pansy. "And that he is coming to Hogwarts this weekend."
"What?" yelped Pansy, garnering a quelling sneer from Professor Snape.
"Apparently," Neville leaned closer to Pansy so as not to be overheard. "The Ministry of Magic is sending him here to put on a talk about steering clear of drugs."
Pansy gulped back a hysterical giggle. How preposterous. Everyone knew that the Malfoy family was the supplier in the Magical world.
"As ridiculous as it sounds," Neville continued. "He volunteered to come here. A public service announcement, if you will."
"But why, in the name of Salazar, would he do that?"
Neville picked up the ladle lying next to the cauldron and twirled it between his fingers, thinking. Ever since he had read Lucius' Owl, he had been suspicious. Suspicion, it seemed, was ingrained in him—a true Slytherin trait. But why should he be suspicious of the man who had cared enough to make him heir to the Malfoy fortune? Clearly, Lucius had a plan to which Neville was not yet privy.
"He's up to something," Neville said quietly, his brown eyes sliding to Pansy's. "I haven't worked out what, just yet, but I know that he would not be making this speech without a very specific, self-serving motive."
"Neville," Pansy breathed in amazement. "How could you say something like that? I mean, that sounded so—"
Pansy pursed her lips closed, not daring to continue her thought.
"You were going to say 'so Gryffindor', weren't you?" Neville asked with a sad smile on his face. When she nodded, he shrugged guiltily. "I guess you're right. It came out before I could stop it."
"It's okay," Pansy reassured with a quick squeeze of his hand. "I guess we all have our moments. But you aren't going to try to stop him. Are you?"
"No," he curled his lips and shook his head quickly. "Of course not. His plan will obviously not include any harm to Slytherin."
"You think it is about Potter, then?"
Neville blinked several times. He had not considered the possibility. Lucius would not attempt to kill Harry Potter right under Dumbledore's nose. It was ludicrous. But why else? Why would the great and powerful drug dealer Lucius Malfoy deign to give a talk about the ill effects of drugs on the wizarding population unless he was being compensated heartily? Neville knew what Lucius wanted more than anything: the death of Harry Potter.
Oh, no.
Neville, pale and shivering, turned back to Pansy just as Professor Snape approached their table, a look of disgust on his face.
"Parkinson! Malfoy!" Snape hissed in a low voice so that the rest of the class had to lean forward to earwig. "I have attempted to overlook your utter lack of attention and blatant disregard for this class, however, your incessant buzzing is impossible to ignore. Cease your gossiping at once or I shall be forced to remove you from this class. Is that clear?"
Neville and Pansy nodded jerkily, color staining both of their cheeks. Professor Snape turned on his heel and in a great swirl of cloaks, stalked back to the front of the classroom.
"We'll talk at dinner," Neville muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Malfoy!" Snape roared, his face turning an unhealthy puce. "Out!"
Later that night, Neville and Pansy sat huddled close together at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. They had shooed away their usual groupies in order to be completely isolated. The threat of Lucius Malfoy entering the school with murder on his mind had been torturing Neville all day long.
"He's going to kill Potter," Neville revealed heavily as he pushed his dinner around his plate. "I just know it."
"He wouldn't," Pansy shook her head quickly. Lucius Malfoy was a brilliant man. He had to know that it would be an act of suicide to kill the precious Harry Potter within the walls of Hogwarts. "I mean, of course he will, but not while we are in school. He will bide his time, Neville. He simply has to."
"No," the agitated Slytherin leader insisted roughly. "Lucius is crazy with anger. He wants Potter dead. He cannot forget what that little bastard did to Draco. Not until he has revenge."
Pansy swallowed down her apprehension. She, too, was furious at the famous Gryffindor. She, too, wanted to claim his blood. But she was patient. She could wait—even if it took years. She knew that one day, Potter would pay dearly for his sins.
"If he does it," Neville continued his voice hollow and afraid. "Then, he will surely die. He will not make it out of this castle."
"They won't kill him," Pansy hissed confidently, scooting her bottom closer to Neville on the bench. "Not them. They will send him to Azkaban."
"But that's worse, isn't it?"
"Yes," Pansy exhaled in anguish. She did not want to lose the man who had, for so many years, been her second father. She loved Lucius Malfoy as much as Draco had. Her memories of Draco and her childhood at the Manor, playing Dementors and prisoners... they all involved Lucius. "Much worse."
Neville dropped his head into his hands and leaned against the table. "What are we going to do, Pans?"
Pansy let her eyes stray to the Gryffindor table where Harry and Ron were guffawing loudly with Seamus Finnegan. The Golden Boy. The Boy Who Lived. The Boy Who Killed Voldemort. The Boy Who Killed Draco Malfoy. The Boy Who Must Die.
"We do nothing," Pansy finally said, hard-hearted resolve steeling her emotions.
"Nothing?" he cried, sitting upright once again. Several students turned to look at Neville quizzically, but he glared at them until they averted their eyes once again. "What do you mean nothing?""Nothing," Pansy reiterated firmly. "Lucius knows that he will be punished. He's doing this for Draco. He will not tolerate your interference. He wants you to be held blameless, don't you see?"
"No, I don't see," Neville cried angrily, slamming his palms on the table top, causing the dishes to rattle nervously. "He'll leave me now, alone again. What will I do after I leave here? Where will I go?"
"Don't you see, Neville," Pansy clasped his face in her hands and pushed her face close to his, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "You are the Malfoy heir. You'll own Malfoy Manor. You'll inherit it all. You won't have any worries."
"But—"
"No," Pansy's blue eyes flashed violently as she pushed closer to Neville, shaking his face sternly. "There is no 'but'. You must let this happen."
Neville stared at Pansy, shocked by the strength of her convictions. She was right, of course. Lucius knew the ramifications of his actions. Lucius also knew that both Pansy and he both wanted Harry dead. Could it be that Lucius was protecting his heir by committing the murder first? With Harry dead, perhaps Neville would find the peace that had evaded him since Draco's demise.
Slowly, Neville nodded at Pansy. He had to let Lucius kill Harry. There was no other way.
"Look at that robe," Pansy chuckled and pointed at Luna Lovegood's electric blue outfit. "I've never seen a blue like that before. Have you?"
Neville glanced at Luna's latest fashion faux pas and smiled. The color was certainly shocking, but Pansy's words gave him pause. Blue like that before. It was an oddly familiar phrase. Before he could put his finger on the memory, Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair, commanding an instant silence in the room.
"We are gathered here today," the Headmaster explained without preamble. "To discuss a very serious matter. As you all recall, Hogwarts suffered a great loss when drug use claimed the life of Draco Malfoy."
He paused, as if to honor the boy's memory with a moment of silence. In that moment, Neville remembered. Blue like that. That night. The night Draco died. They had danced. To that song.
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
The beleaguered Slytherin shook his head, willing the memory away. He could not handle the thought of Draco in his arms. It was never going to be that way again. Neville knew that he had to let Draco go. But, oh, he did not want to.
"The Ministry of Magic," Professor Dumbledore continued somberly. "Has sent us Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, to lead us in a frank discussion about drug use."
Neville tuned out the Headmaster's voice as he invited the memory of Draco in; He was instantly surrounded by all that was Draco: His smell, the texture of his skin, the feel of his breath against Neville's neck. The dance.
Across the room, Harry leaned forward over the table; his sights set on his former Housemate and whispered the hex he had rehearsed so many times.
Neville's scalp tingled warmly as the vision of the dance crystallized. It was so real. He could feel Draco. He could hear the strains of the music. The room was crowded with his classmates. The smell of beer and sweat mingled with the sweet scent of Draco's hair.
"So glad—"
"You're back—"
"Don't let—"
"Won't—"
"So much—"
"Me, too—"
"Dance—"
"With you—"
"With you—"
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 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."
The memory that was so bittersweet began replaying itself again in Neville's mind. Once again, he could feel Draco's body pressed so intimately against his own. His lips burned from Draco's kiss. The distinct smell of Slytherin House that night swirled around his senses. It was all so real. It was all so unbearably real.
As the memory looped a third time, Neville stood from his place at the table, tears coursing down his face, oblivious to the fact that Lucius was now standing in front of the room, a serious look upon his face and a pointer in his hand.
"I love you, too."
The student body turned as one, to see Neville smiling, despite his tears, his hands in the air, as if he was reaching for someone. Pansy looked up in surprise at the crying boy and quickly grabbed his arm, begging him to sit down. Neville shook his head and wrenched his arm from the small girl with ease. He hurried out of the Great Hall, leaving the silent student body behind him.
Lucius and Pansy looked at each other briefly, panic enveloping their heart. Pansy leapt to her feet and ran after Neville, calling his name.
"If you'll excuse me, Headmaster..." Lucius said as he hurriedly followed Neville and Pansy from the room.
Harry and Ron clutched their mouths with their hands to avoid laughing out loud. It was obvious that their hex had hit their mark. And as they hoped, Neville looked like a fool. He was talking—clearly to Draco—but Draco was not there. Harry made an untoward joke about insanity running in the Longbottom line.
"I can't believe you've done this," Hermione bared her teeth and jumped up from her seat. "I thought you said it was harmless?"
"It is!" Ron insisted, still trying to contain his mirth. "He's not bleeding. He's not dead. He's not even hurt."
"He was crying," Hermione pointed out angrily. "Crying! If he was not hurt, why was he crying like that?"
"You are the reason Malfoy was not there to help him! And what if he is remembering the night he died?" Hermione raged, picking up a goblet and lobbing it at Harry, who ducked in time to avoid it. Her anger was crashing over her in waves. She had had enough. "What if he is seeing you killing Malfoy over and over again?"
A haunting silence descended upon the Gryffindor table. Dean and Seamus ducked their heads and moved gingerly down the bench, wanting to distance themselves from the epicenter drama.
"What's going on?" Ginny hurried over to the Trio, her face ashen. "What happened to Neville?"
"None of your business, Ginny," Harry gritted. He rose slowly and leaned toward Hermione. "If that traitor is remembering that prat's death, I am glad. It is no less than he deserves."
Hermione stifled an enraged scream, but could not stop herself from slapping Harry's face with a blinding force. The crowd in the Great Hall gasped as Harry's head snapped to the side.
"Miss Granger!" Professor Dumbledore boomed from the front of the room. "Mr. Potter! Join me in the hall. Immediately."
Harry rubbed his jaw and set off, leaving Hermione to walk alone, her chest heaving in fury. Ginny ran at full speed past both Harry and Hermione and sped toward the Slytherin dungeons. The shocked students turned to watch their exits.
Once in the hallway, Professor Dumbledore demanded an explanation for the dramatic showdown. Between shrill accusations and bellowed disparagements, the Headmaster garnered enough of the story to know that his attention was needed in the dungeon, where he assumed Neville had fled.
"Mr. Potter," the benevolent wizard sighed tiredly. "I think it is best that you go directly to your dormitory... where you are to begin packing your trunk."
"What?" Harry's self-satisfied smirk faltered.
"This prank of yours, Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore said with a touch of anger. "This hex. This time, you have gone too far. I fear that your time at Hogwarts has come to an end."
Harry whipped his head around, instinctively turning to Hermione for answers. One bout of anger could not make his soul forget that Hermione had always been there to save him from himself. She stood so close to him, but she refused to look at him. Her arms were crossed defensively over her chest and the muscles in her chin twitched in fury.
"But Professor—" Harry cried as his features paled and his eyes widened. Surely his mentor, his protector did not mean to throw him out on his ear.
"Good-bye, Harry," Professor Dumbledore turned his back on his once prized student. "Go at once to the Tower. I shall send Professor MacGonagall to you."
Hermione watched the Headmaster sweep down the stairs leading to the Slytherin dungeons with hard eyes. Turning slowly to face Harry at last, she smiled a grim, mocking smile. "I guess you're not impervious after all."
"You ungrateful bitch," he advanced on his friend menacingly, clenching his fists at his side. Hermione took an automatic step backwards, suddenly afraid. "I made you matter in this school. Without me, you'd have been a no one."
"Harry," the small brunette shuffled back again, hitting the wall with her heels. She raised her hands to cover her face, unsure if Harry was going to strike her or not. "Stop!"
"Harry," a deep voice stilled Harry, who had raised his hand almost casually. "Don't."
The dark haired boy turned to face Ron, who's face was mottled red with anger. The Weasley Prefect advanced quickly, stepping between his best friend and his girlfriend, a look of supreme understanding playing across his features.
"I never wanted to believe it," Ron said regretfully, placing his hands on his hips. "I always wanted to pretend that Ginny was a clumsy lout who tripped getting out of a chair."
Harry schooled his features into perfect coolness and refused to respond to the blatant allegation.
"You were my friend, Harry," Ron said with a slight catch in his throat. "But if this is the real you—the you who is able to hit my sister and my girlfriend—I think it is best that we end it here."
Harry nodded imperceptibly before turning on his heel and sprinting up the stairs. Halfway up, he turned with a look of utmost disgust on his face and growled, "Good riddance."
Hermione collapsed into Ron's arms and together, they watched their friend run up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. For the last time.
Pansy shouted the Slytherin password as she and Lucius approached the stone wall that was the passageway. The pair scanned the Common Room and found no signs of the plagued leader of Slytherin House. She darted down the hall to the Seventh Year Girl's dormitory, which she also found empty. Upon her return to the Common Room, she found Lucius Malfoy, looking anxious.
Lucius looked at her questioningly. "What happened?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, utterly frustrated. "He was fine. And then—he wasn't. I don't know where he must've come down here. Where else would he have go—"
Pansy stopped short, her eyes darting to the hallway at the far end of the Common Room. Draco's room. Her friend had been too afraid to enter the room in the weeks that had passed since Draco's passing. He was afraid of the memories, the ghost of happiness that he was not prepared to confront. Knowing beyond a doubt that Neville had turned there in his grief, she ran toward the room, Lucius following in her wake.
The heavy door, bolted since the night of Draco's death, was swung open in an eerie inviting manner. The room was dark, save the light from the enchanted window, which showed a cheery autumnal scene with falling leaves and chirping birds. In the middle of the room, cast in the warm mid-day sun, gently swaying was Neville.
"Neville," Lucius approached his adopted heir, concern clearly etched in his pale features. He reached out a hand to clasp the boy's shoulder, but the vacant look in Neville's dark eyes gave him pause. "What is it, son?"
"Draco?" Neville whispered to the dank room. He was shaking incessantly from the vivid memories of his shared dance with Draco. The memory hex had run its course just as Harry had predicted. The hex, true to it's purpose, had forced him to relive the emotionally rending moment no less than ten times.
"Neville?" Pansy hesitated to step closer to her friend turned lover, unsure if she was more terrified by his pale features or by his quiet cry for his dead boyfriend.
"Draco," Neville wailed in anguish, pain searing through his chest. He stared at the window, certain he saw Draco emerging from its faux scene. "Draco?"
"Neville," a familiar voice sounded softly as a silvery vision took form. "Is that you?"
Lucius spun around in shock at the sound. There, standing not three meters away was his only son. Draco. Pansy covered her mouth with her hands and issued a blood curdling scream.
Draco drifted across the room until he stood face to face with Neville, sparing not a glance at his speechless father or his sobbing best friend. Neville's eyes closed and opened slowly, two fat tears dropping to his cheeks.
"You have finally come," Draco said softly, a happy smile playing on his pale pink lips. "Did you forget the password again? Had to wait for Gareth to finish his supper before he came along to let you in?"
"No," Neville croaked, shaking his head slowly, the loving taunts wreaking havoc on his heart. His entire form trembled, making the vision of Draco dance a terrible unearthly dance. "No. I didn't know you were here. I would have come. I would have come."
"What's wrong, HB?" Draco tilted his head and furrowed his brow, confused by his lover's demeanor and unsteady voice. He reached out, seeking to comfort the one person who he had truly loved in his life.
"You died, Dragon," Neville forced out, hating the sound of the word. He stared at Draco's hand, suspended just centimeters away from his face. A slight chill swept over him.
"No, I didn't," Draco laughed at the obvious joke. He was still alive. Clearly, he had to be alive. "I'm right here, silly. I've been waiting for you for hours now."
Lucius swallowed thickly. His son was there—but not in the flesh. He was nearly transparent, barely visible in the enchanted sunlight. His son was a ghost of himself. He was horrified and felt the bile rising in his throat. Malfoy Senior wanted nothing more than to rewind time and save his son from this terrible fate. He whispered his son's name, hoping to catch a moment of his attention, but Draco remained fixated on Neville.
Accepting his fate as unimportant in this exchange, he stood stock still in shock. Never in all his days had he imagined anything of this sort befalling his family. His son was doomed to roam Hogwarts for eternity. The pain of knowing that his product—his drug—had caused this tragedy was almost too much to bear.
"You did die, Draco," Neville told him sadly. "I held you in my arms and begged you not to go. But you did. You died."
"But I'm here," Draco opened his arms wide, displaying his spectral being. He was garbed in the striking black robes he had been wearing on the eve of his death. "I didn't go anywhere."
"I didn't know," Neville groaned, his head reeling from the onslaught of memories and overwhelming emotions. Draco's presence was both heaven and hell. Neville was ecstatic to be able to speak with him again, but not touching him was driving him mad. He could not understand what was happening. "Why didn't you come find me?"
"I was waiting for you," Draco said strongly, trying desperately to snap Neville out of the fog of insanity that was obviously clouding his mind. "You asked me not to leave. So I stayed. It's what you wanted. How can I be dead if I am here, waiting for you?"
"My god," Neville covered his eyes with the heel of his palms to escape the horror of this reality. He vaguely remembered the moments after Draco's death; being curled around his blond head, begging the lifeless form to wake up and remain with him. "I trapped you here."
"My sons," Lucius rasped, taking a step toward the pair. "This tragedy was the doing of only one person—"
"I remember crying," Draco said suddenly, ignoring his father's interruption. "I was so sad. But I didn't know why. I thought it was a dream."
Neville shook his head, unable to stand the thought that his Draco had been crying for him. It dawned on him that he had heard the late night groans and wails that seemed to follow him throughout the dungeons; but he had never dreamt that they were real. "I was sad, too."
"But you didn't come back."
"Had I known, Dragon," Neville opened his eyes and stepped forward, his arms reaching for the Draco he could never touch. "I wouldn't have left this room for a moment."
"You said I died," Draco said slowly, trying to understand the situation as it surely was. "What about you? You didn't die?"
"No," Neville's voice was ragged from his tears. He was ashamed to be alive. He regretted not putting poison to his lips as soon as Draco's body was carried from the dungeons, draped in a shroud. "I lived—if you can call it that. I was halfway between life and death. I wanted to die. What is my life without you?"
Pansy muffled a sob. She could not bear seeing the men she loved in so much pain. She longed to feel their arms around her, telling her that everything would be all right; that this was a nightmare that would end soon enough.
"You say you love me, but you left me!" Draco asked Neville abruptly, a touch of accusing anger in his voice. "Will you leave me now?""No!" Neville cried fiercely, his hands once again searching for Draco. "I will never leave you. Not ever again."
"Neville," Pansy approached Neville's side warily. "What are you saying? You cannot live here forever."
"He can stay with me," Draco insisted, addressing Pansy for the first time. "This is our room. We can stay here."
Professor Dumbledore entered the room silently with Ginny Weasley trailing behind him. Ginny gasped audibly at the sight of Draco's ghost. The shock of the sight was too much for the girl and she crumpled to the floor in a faint.
Dumbledore observed the scene with a troubled expression on his face. He had seen a great many oddities at Hogwarts over the years, but the vision of Draco Malfoy as a ghost struck him as a indescribable tragedy.
"School is nearly out," Pansy told Draco, oblivious to the Headmaster and Ginny's entrance. "We finish next week. We must leave Hogwarts."
"Then Draco will come to the Manor with me," Neville proclaimed defensively, making Draco smile. "We were going to go there anyway. We can just—"
"No," Lucius ground out with unrestrained resentment. "Ghosts—" he choked on the word—"cannot simply relocate at will, Neville. Draco will remain here at Hogwarts... possibly in this room. Forever."
Lucius turned his face away from his son and heir. He could not bear their desperate, pleading eyes. He had never felt so powerless in his life. Here were the two boys he loved so dearly, asking him to save them, and he could do nothing. He looked at Dumbledore, hoping for an answer from the man he had resented for so long.
"I'm afraid," Professor Dumbledore said somberly. "That Lucius is correct. There is nothing to be done."
"Headmaster," Draco drifted across the room to Dumbledore, the sight of which made Pansy screech in horror and hide behind Neville's shoulders. "There must be a way! You are the most powerful wizard of our time. Surely you can—"
"There is nothing I can do to reverse this situation," the wizened wizard reiterated woefully. "I can, of course, offer Neville a term of employment with our school."
"Me?" Neville laughed stoically. "As a teacher?"
Draco turned to join in Neville's self-depreciating laughter. The two boys reached for each other, but when their forms touched, Neville flinched and jumped away; Draco had nearly passed straight through him. Draco's head sagged to his chest as Neville crossed his arms over his chest, shivering from the chill.
"Dumbledore," Lucius croaked, stalking the old wizard with a crazed look in his pale eyes. "You must be able to do something. Some magic that you have learned!"
"You have to help them!" Pansy pleaded, running to the Headmaster and clasping his hands in hers. "You cannot let this happen!"
"Perhaps, Ms. Parkinson," the Headmaster patted Pansy's hand gently and guided her to Ginny's limp form on the floor. "You'd be so kind as to rouse Ms. Weasley."
"Ginny!" the hysterical Slytherin girl threw herself to the floor beside her friend, patting her cheek and calling her name. "Get up. Now is not the time for theatrics!"
As Pansy continued to coax Ginny into consciousness, Professor Dumbledore tried to reason with his former student.
"Neville," Draco ignored the noise behind him. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to—to go—through—"
"Stop it," Neville commanded, tightening his arms over his chest. "Please don't say it. It makes it too real."
"You have to leave me," Draco said with his old characteristic bossiness. His commanding manner faltered at the sound of Neville's fresh sobs, but he was resolved in sending him away in order to live. "You cannot live your life here. There is too much for you—for you to see. And for you to do. And—and you'll go on and find—and find someone who—"
"I can't," Neville gasped, falling to his knees before Draco's spirit. "I can't."
"There is no other way," Draco told him, kneeling beside his lover, wishing that he could lay his hands on his soft brown hair. "Don't you see? You are alive. I am dead. There is nothing—"
"There is something," Neville pushed himself to his feet, his hands frantically searching his robe pockets. "There is one thing left to do."
"What are you doing?"
"Tell me not to leave you," Neville commanded Draco roughly.
"What?"
"Just tell me," Neville hissed, stomping his foot impatiently. "Say the words."
"Don't leave me," Draco blurted, panic erupting in Draco's soul. He could not do it. He could not send Neville away from him. His body was dead, but his love lived one. "HB, you can't leave me!"
"I won't," Neville smiled as he pulled Draco's cherry wood wand from his robe pocket.
"My wand!" Draco smiled at the sight of his previously forgotten wand. "Why do you have my—?"
Draco's eyes snapped to Neville's face. "No, Neville."
"Tell me to stay."
"No," Draco shook his head wildly. "I won't do it. I won't let you."
"Either way," Neville's lips turned up into a rueful smile. "I'm doing it."
Draco's eyes slid shut, unable to bear the sight. "Stay."
"I will stay," Neville's smile widened and pointed Draco's wand at his chest. He whispered the two words that he knew would end his suffering.
As Neville folded onto the floor, he heard the voices of Pansy, Lucius and Dumbledore, still locked in their own separate vignettes; unaware of what was transpiring deeper in the room. He heard Draco frantically begging him not to leave him. He saw the enchanted window slowly fading to twilight.
And then, all was black.