Author's Notes: My view of Draco and Neville has been for ever altered by the brilliant author, A. J. Hall.
Magic of the Isis.
Draco stared moodily into the Isis, and dropped a stick off the bridge,
narrowly missing a passing punter. "Why are we here?"
"I just thought you'd like a day out somewhere different."
"Look here, Neville. You may think that a day out around Muggles is a
good way to relax, but I disagree."
"You never complain like this when we go to Harrods."
"In Harrods we merely look eccentric. The rich are allowed to be
eccentric."
"I think you'll find that's allowed here," Neville said mildly.
"Besides, we're not entirely surrounded by Muggles. Can't you feel it?"
He led Draco off the bridge and down through the Parks towards Magdalen.
"There are wizards all over the place. Especially in Christ Church.
Why, one of the first fellows was so fond of Hogwarts that he insisted
the steps up to the Hall were an exact reproduction. It was really odd
when my Gran first showed me that."
Draco looked round, his fair head glinting in the pale sunlight. "I see
what you mean. Now you mention it, I can feel it everywhere."
"You should feel right at home. A place full of privilege."
"Knock it off, Neville. You're a pureblood too."
Neville laughed. "Now that's something I never thought I'd hear you say
when we were at school."
"Yes, you were a Gryffindor. The best bloodlines never go there - they
have such an unhealthy interest in Muggles. I admit that it paid off in
the end, but I was brought up to think that was terribly plebian."
"Move with the times and all that. I hear that Snape has got himself a
computer."
"'Never underestimate the enemy.' He taught me that. I thought at first
that he was referring to Potter, but it turned out that he meant my
father." He turned paler.
Neville noticed and gripped his arm. "It wasn't all bad, though, Draco.
Damn it, I didn't mean to remind you of this. I brought you here to
distract you. Let's go punting."
Draco nodded absently and let Neville lead him down into a punt. After
a few abortive attempts with the punt pole, one of which nearly landed
Neville in the water, they picked up the paddles and glided downriver to
the Isis.
It was a gorgeous day, cool with a clear sky. The spires looked
particularly magical, even to trained eyes. They pulled up in the
shelter of some bushes, and Neville brought out a small package from his
package. "Augesco. Oh, shit," as he had to put out a hand to steady the
large hamper.
"You planned this, didn't you?" said Draco, suspiciously.
"Of course. I had thorough plans to shut you up if you went on too long
about Muggles."
Draco opened the hamper. "Champagne. You must be feeling rich."
"I landed a good contract. I'm to supply all Snape's fresh botanicals."
"Well done. I can see that does indeed call for champagne." He paused,
then went on, "Look. I'm sorry I've been such a tit lately. The
Ministry have been very unhelpful. I shouldn't take it out on you." He
opened the champagne with a languid flick of his wand.
"To Longbottom Leaf," toasted Draco.
The end.