Title: Only Time, Chapter Seven
Author: frkwerewolf
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Neville
Rating: R
Summary: Arranged marriage. Contracts. Ruined Life. Possible Romance. Crazy Families.
Chapter Summary: Introducing the Longbottom Family.
Notes: sorry this took so long to post.
Draco felt the train pull to a stop. The Slytherins in his compartment immediately stood and gathered their things, but Draco remained sitting. He looked nervously out the window and at the large platform. Standing out there somewhere was Neville's Grandmother, waiting to take him to meet the new in-laws. Draco shivered in disgust.
He really did not want to be going to the Longbottom house.
Reality immediately intervened, when Draco saw Neville stepping off the train. The Gryffindor's shoulders were hunched over, his head down. He shuffled forward, glanced around, and then stumbled over to a stern looking older woman and a man who vaguely resembled Neville. The woman - Draco could tell it was his grandmother - spoke and Draco glared daggers at her as the Gryffindor flinched.
When Draco finally put it upon himself to leave the train and walk up behind Neville, the poor boy was extremely nervous looking. Draco half expected him to faint from stress. Clearing his throat, Draco looked down upon them all with a regal look, despite being the shortest one present. The deep set frown on Neville's grandmother's face disappeared into a disturbingly sweet smile at the sight of Draco.
"Oh, Draco!" She greeted.
"Mrs. Longbottom." Draco replied, ignoring her to look at Neville. Neville continued to stare at the ground.
"Well." Mrs. Longbottom said, clapping her hands together. "Draco, this is Algie and you can call me Agatha. Shall we continue this conversation on the way home?"
"Yes, ma'am." Neville nodded, picking up his bags. Draco reached for his.
"Neville! Don't let our guest carry his own bags." Agatha snapped. Neville sighed and began struggling to carry both his own and Draco's bags. Draco almost felt guilty. He found that he really did like Neville, almost to the point where he could consider falling in love with him. But it was so amusing to see him stumbling along behind him.
xXx
Draco Malfoy was a little shocked to say the least when they reached the Longbottom home. He had expected a large house, true, but one that was greatly smaller than his own. What he found was a massive mansion, along with a set of stables and two greenhouses. It was still smaller than the Malfoy Manor, but Draco couldn't help but be slightly impressed.
A tall servant greeted them at the door, and in the midst of Agatha Longbottom's barking orders Draco realized this was Bob. Once they made it into the mansion's foyer, and Draco had a chance to notice how cold the home seemed, another servant came up to them. Neville smiled widely at him, allowing the servant to take Draco's bags.
"Draco, this is Marshal." Neville introduced him. The short brunette nodded in greeting to Draco, before turning and directing them upstairs.
They entered a bedroom that simply screamed Neville. It was a large room, as far as rooms go, but not as big as the majority of the rooms that they had passed on the way there. It was decked out in red curtains and a red comforter. On every shelf and even on the floor rested a plant. Some were simple garden variety types, but a few turned to him as he entered and one even hissed.
"Master Algie insists on a joint sleeping arrangement, sir." Marshal informed them with a deep voice. Draco smirked, despite the tension suddenly appearing in Neville's spine. A tension that had been constant while being in his grandmother's presence. Draco knew he shouldn't be getting amused by the situation, but he couldn't help himself.
"T-thank you, Marshal." Neville whispered. Draco watched as Neville pulled out his wand and, walking around the room, watered each of his plants. He ignored the servant, who was now placing all their clothing away, and kept his eyes on Neville's hands. The snarling plants, that Draco could not name to save his life, calmed at the simple strokes that Neville laid on their leaves and stems. Draco shifted slightly, completely aware of how erotic those caresses could be in a completely different situation.
"Draco?" Neville asked. He had looked up from watering his Korean Man-Eating Tulip to find the Slytherin staring at him with wide eyes that looked strangely hungry. Neville's eyes darted around the room, noticing that Marshal had left and their possessions were put away. "Hey, Draco? You okay?"
"Hmm?" Draco blinked, then scowled. "Yes, I'm fine."
"You sure?" Neville asked, voice full of concern.
"I'm bloody well fine." Draco snapped.
"Okay." Neville replied. "It's, uh, close to dinner..."
"Then let's go." Draco said, turning on his heel and striding out of the room. Neville sighed, knowing this was going to be a very long week.
xXx
Draco stared around the table, hiding an expression that would of been akin to horror. These people were... insane. One half of the table was a collection of people that conversationally resembled Draco's family, simply replacing the stupid devotion to Voldemort with Dumbledore. They were rude, conceited, and seemed to hate everyone. Draco found himself agitated to see that the main person they hated was Neville.
Draco couldn't figure it out. Neville was such a sweetheart, for that was the best word to describe him: sweet. He was nice and caring and filled with warmth. He had eyes of earthly delights and a gentle hand to go along with it. And... Why was Draco thinking this again? Oh, right, his family. They seemed to dislike the genuine love and glowing beauty that was Draco's fiancé. But, on the plus side, they adored Draco.
The other side of the table consisted of psychos that loved everything and found something amusing about the smallest thing. They loved Neville, which explained to a small degree the mixed up psychological profile that Neville had: half proud and sure, the other half scared of the world. They were also in love with Draco, without him even having to make an effort. It was a little scary, to put it mildly.
"So, Draco, my boy!" Neville's Uncle Algie leered. "What do you think of... Oranges?"
Neville groaned loudly in protest next to Draco and covered his face with his hands.
"Neville! Don't put your elbows on the table!" Some random aunt screeched. Neville immediately sat up straight, resting his hands in his lap. Draco could see them clenching into fists. Clearing his throat, Draco turned back to Algie.
"Oranges are very nice indeed, sir." Draco replied. "But I prefer apples, myself."
"Apples, eh?" Algie tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think I have some in my closet. Would you like some, lad?"
"No. No, I'm quite alright." Draco hastily said. He really did not need Neville's uncle bringing him apple scented lube, while he was sharing a bedroom with the Gryffindor.
"Very well." Algie looked disturbingly sad, as though the one thing he wanted in the world would not happen. Draco was not comforted by this.
"So, Mr. Malfoy." The aunt that had screeched began. Draco couldn't remember her name to save his life, and if the expression on her face was any indication, he didn't want to. "How much money does your family have?"
"Martha!" Agatha Longbottom reprimanded, her eyes wide. Draco narrowed his eyes. The expression changed into a full glare when Agatha turned to him, her face perfectly innocent. "I'm sure it's at least five vaults, isn't it Draco?"
"I feel that it is rude to discuss finances at the dinner table, ma'am." Draco replied coldly. Neville was shaking next to him, though Draco couldn't begin to wonder why.
"Hmm." Was Agatha's only reply.
"Yes, Draco has much more to be worried about, I'm sure!" Algie exclaimed, the seemingly permanent leer in place. "Like which position he'll use tonight."
Draco gulped down the wine sitting next to his glass. He busied himself with eating, doing anything to keep himself from erupting at the insanity of this dinner table. The strict women, and one man, on the other side were yelling at Algie for his rudeness. Algie seemed unperturbed and continued to delicately eat his chicken.
"Well, Draco, what do you think of our lovely home?" Agatha asked. "I'm sure it's not nearly as large as yours. Tell me, how much stock does your family have?"
"The boy shouldn't be worrying about things like that!" A random first cousin interrupted.
"Exactly." Algie agreed. "The boy is at his prime! Isn't that right, Draco? What with all the advancement in magic, I'm sure he's had a different person in his bed for two years at least. That is, up until the engagement. Tell me, Draco, have you found ice to be worth the effort? I've never tried it myself. The old missus isn't much into playing anymore."
"Algie!" Exclaimed a stern woman across from the leering uncle. Draco assumed this was the old missus. "That is quite enough. There is more important things to talk about than Draco's sexual endeavors."
"I'm just trying to make sure my nephew is being taken care of in more ways than one." Algie insisted.
"That's exactly what we are doing, but apparently about more important things." Algie's wife snorted. "You will find, dear boys, that money is always more important than sex."
Now, Draco was a virgin, but that didn't mean he hadn't had an extremely large amount of fun in the various broom closets of Hogwarts. So, needless to say, he very much disagreed with the woman's statement.
"Such lies!" Algie gasped, staring at his wife with something akin to disbelief.
"Will you all shut up!" Neville suddenly bellowed, leaping to his feet. His body was shaking, with what Draco suddenly realized was anger, and his hands were balled into fists. Having been hit by Neville once before, Draco quickly scooted his chair away.
"Neville Longbottom!" Agatha's mouth fell open, then closed with a snap.
"No! I'm tired of this!" Neville yelled. "Stop treating Draco as though he's just a bank account. He's not! He's a person just like everyone else." Draco shifted in his chair, feeling a tell-tale heat in his face. "Uncle Algie? We are not having sex! Please stop offering Draco lubricant. Please! I beg of you people!"
"I think you need to sit down, Neville." Agatha demanded, her face filled with anger.
"No! I'm tired of being ignored or stepped on or used for entertainment." Neville hissed. Suddenly his back straightened and a superior expression, that nearly made him look like a Malfoy, appeared. "Draco, come on. We are leaving."
"What?" Draco looked up at him in shock. Neville didn't answer. Instead, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the dining room. Draco's gray eyes darted around the room, taking in the many expressions. Agatha and her horde of aunts looked livid. Algie looked proud. Clearing his throat, Draco stood and quietly followed his fuming fiancé.