CHAPTER SEVEN: SURRENDER

I hear the words denying
But jealousy is blind
As we speak I rage and tremble
I must be sure that you're mine
-Ferry-

Neville's problems seemed to have no end.
He was exhausted from the emotional prison he was in and as if it wasn't enough, Hermione had told him about the note Lucinda had found yesterday.
"But we know it can't be Harry." she had added very quickly and cleverly. "He would never had written the name like He-who-must-not-be-named."
Then she had insisted that Neville should continue seeing Lucinda as usual and encouraged him to do something romantic with her. Neville had squirmed under her gaze, feeling his face get red and his stomach twitch. Not that he cared about Lucinda. She seemed nice and all, but it wasn't she who haunted his dreams every night, who could make him wake up crying, knowing what he desired was a hopeless torture.
Of course he could guess who had written the note. He was surprised that the rest of the school had settled to believe that Harry had done it. Anybody who had seen Harry and Cho together should know that Harry was a normal teenager, without perverted secrets.
Secrets like those of Neville.
Things had been horrible after his last meeting with Draco and now Neville couldn't help wondering what new evil scheme was sent into motion. Couldn't Draco just be content with turning his schooldays into misery? Did he have to drag Harry into it as well? And what if he could just try to fall in love with Lucinda and forget the impossible obsession with Draco. Couldn't he just get a chance doing that?
But deep inside he wished that the note had been the sign he hoped for, that Draco did care and hadn't done all those things to make fun of him. But this couldn't go on. Harry was beside himself with the troubles this was causing him and Neville couldn't see Malfoy walking around, beaming like that about it another day.
He decided to confront Draco with it right after divinations, hoping to be able to see him alone for just one moment.

It took Neville some time daring to approach the Malfoy court, knowing that a lot of courage would be spent on being an open target for the slytherins before Draco even gave an answer. But all the same he walked up to them, placing himself in front of Draco who arched an eyebrow in his pretended amusement. Neville hated that.
"We need to talk." Neville said, his voice sounding a lot stronger than he felt.
His words threw sparks of laughter into the fan-crowd surrounding Draco. Draco gave him a chilly smile, concealing any straying feeling from his gaze.
"What would you possibly have to say?"
"You'll find out if you dare to talk to me alone."
Neville made a gesture towards the stairs. Draco eyed his company approvingly as they let out mocking sounds like 'ooo':s and whistles. The arrogant smile never leaving his face, Draco stepped forward as if it was the simplest thing in the world and addressed his friends before leaving with Neville.
"I'll be right back. This can't take too long."
Draco's smirk didn't wear off until they were out of sight from all the others and safe inside their usual hideout: A deserted toilet.
Neville made sure to stand closest to the door this time, his accusing gaze meeting Draco's.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Draco shot Neville the same accusing stare and answered with a low, threathening voice.
"You're asking me. Stepping up to me in front of everyone, asking for privacy..."
Neville folded his arms, feeling that Draco's words hurt him somewhere.
"Is that all that matters to you?"
"How's things going with the mudblood Lucinda?" Draco didn't mean to sound so bitter, but his voice seemed to have a life of his own.
"Actually, that's what I was about to ask. I can't believe you're having the nerve to involve my friends in this!"
"You involved yourself first. Don't forget about that."
"Me?! Why do you even care! You're up to nothing but making my life a complete misery and now you're throwing Harry in to it as well! Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Well" Draco said in his most poisonous voice, "What do you expect from an evil, ugly creep?"
Neville's mouth fell open.
"What? You have the stomach to mention that, after what you said?!"
"I am not a death eater!"
"THEN HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT!? Do you think it's funny, what happened to my parents, is it all a joke to you?!"
Neville's breathing grew faster as he worked himself up to fury, making Draco catch fire as well.
"WELL, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO ABOUT IT!?"
Now it was Neville's turn to spit poison.
"Try to figure that one out!" he said. "And meanwhile I'll be in the Gryffindor tower with Lucinda!"
And Neville ran out, leaving Draco to his own devices.
This hadn't turn out the way Neville had wanted it to! And some pangs of guilt came into him, thinking about how he had used Lucinda as a weapon in his last sentence. But he felt strangely comforted. Draco had shown jealousy and Neville felt as if he had walked off with victory from the confrontation, completely missing the fact that Lucinda had been transformed into a deadly enemy for Draco.

Lucinda had the luckiest day of the year.
Neville had seemed so distant lately and she had almost given up hope. But then, the wonderful, magical note, containing Neville's handwriting, was found in her bag. He wanted to meet her out at the grove near the Whomping willow, alone in the moonlight. He had something to confess to her.
The awful plot against them, beginning with the Potter note, had failed!
After classes. she made her way up to the dormitories, singing to herself. She was going to look really pretty for him. She had thrown these secret glances at Neville the whole day, smiling as she made him blush. Tonight she set out to win him.
Neville was hers!

Inside the empty girl's toilet, being the deserted home of moaning Myrtle, a most peculiar scene took place. Draco stood bent over a seated Goyle, bellowing at him with full force. The test tube within Goyle's hand trembled.
"But it tastes awful!" Goyle protested.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT IT TASTES LIKE! THIS PLAN IS GOING THROUGH AND YOU BETTER DO IT OR SOMEBODY ELSE WILL HAVE THE HONOUR!"
Clearly frightened by Malfoy's outburst, Goyle sipped it all at once, grimacing miserably. Draco calmed down immediatly.
"There" he said. "It wasn't so bad, was it? Now you better hurry up. The effects of Polyjuice potion lasts no longer than an hour or two. And we want our little joke on Potter to go through, right?"
Goyle made a grunting sound, being his version of an evil laughter. Draco smiled back in appreciation. He hoped Snape wouldn't miss the ingredients Draco had been forced to steal to complete the potion. Lying in Snape's dungeon for a week had given him time to study the helpful recipe and if Snape ever found out, well Draco was sure he would understand. He had after all been nice to him after Lucius had left and he knew what Draco went through about Neville. Then he knew how important this was.
Draco made an evil smirk.
"Off you go." he said.

As Lucinda came closer to the grove, she saw the silouette of her Neville, partly hidden behind the tree. She came to a halt, carefully checking that everything was into place, tracing her hand over the curls to make sure they looked okay. The temperature was freezing this early into December but she had been sure to put on extra robes. Just in case she and Neville would need something for a cover...
The butterflies in her stomach just wouldn't be still, but she told herself that it had to be a lot worse for Neville. He was always so shy, the poor boy. In a hurry to break the ice, she ran the rest of the way, coming to a halt a few steps away from the figure at the tree.
Her smile was fading. It wasn't Neville.
It was Harry Potter.
He was standing there with the most vicious smile she had ever thought that Potter could make and he held a rope in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Lucinda, but you shouldn't have done that." Potter said in a strange hoarse voice. "I'll make you sorry I was ever born."

Draco arrived to Snape's office in perfect time, having practised his most innocent look for hours in front of the mirror. He knew very well what was coming, but there was no proof of his involvement and if he just could keep his face straight they would have nothing on him.
He realised his misjudgement as he entered the dungeons.
Snape sat at his desk with his arms crossed, just glaring bitterly at him. Draco placed himself obediently in front of the desk, looking attentive. The silence was a little too long for Draco's comfort. He had just started to shift feet when Snape spoke.
"This has to stop and it has to stop now."
Draco looked innocent, and answered as polite as he could.
"What has, professor?"
"I'm warning you", Snape said quietly, with murder in his voice.
Draco felt a little uncertain. Snape was doing his interrogation thing again, but he swore to himself he would not crack. Snape's voice continued mercilessly.
"Tying her to a tree, setting fire to her hair..."
Draco fought back the malicious smile that threathened to spread across his face.
"Did it ever occur to you that I might not be so pleased having to work overtime on account of your silly little games?"
Draco tried his innocent look again.
"There have been enough consequences of your affair with Mr Longbottom, enough hospital visits and accidents. Not even the framing of Potter can raise my mood the slightest."
Draco felt obliged to speak.
"I don't have an affair..."
"So I have decided" Snape interrupted "to leave this into more willing hands."
The door to the dungeon opened and Albus Dumbledore entered, his serious blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight. Draco drew his breath in shock and turned to Snape with a desperate begging glance.
"No." Snape said with an ominous smirk. "Now you'll have to face the consequences."
Dumbledore gratefully sat down as Snape offered his seat and the potion's master placed himself standing at Dumbledore's right side.
"Now, now." said the headmaster, "I'm sure you need to ease your heart on some matters. Severus, would you mind putting on some teawater?"

As Christmas was drawing closer, the stories about what had happened to poor Lucinda still hadn't settled. She had been sent home for the rest of the term to recover from the trauma. Her beautiful hair had turned to ashes and the stories she had confessed to a few about her degradation were buzzing around the school.
As for Harry Potter, his name was cleared officially, since he managed to find a water proof alibi. But the rumours was as vicious as ever and this was a small comfort for Draco, who had to attend to private sessions to Dumbledore one hour a day and serve another daily hour doing detention with Snape.

Draco hadn't confessed anything, but both professors were convinced about his involvement in the Lucinda accident and instead of contacting Draco's family, they made him serve his time in school instead. This stopped him from participating in any quidditch training and he was forbidden to visit Hogsmeade at the weekends. Instead he was forced to help Hagrid nursing horrifying animals and he couldn't even complain or be rude towards Hagrid, having the threat of further consequences hanging over him.
Although Snape had figured out about Goyle's involvement, he seemed to see Goyle as an innocent bystander and gave him no penalties. Draco was boiling with anger over the injustice. But it was worth the suffering to know that his rival was out of the way. He only wished that he would have time to see Neville, to catch him alone just once, for all the trouble he'd gone through. But Neville hadn't even met his gaze the few moments they saw each other. The Gryffindor always had this sad, worried look on his face and seemed to avoid company. Draco grew all the more impatient and frustrated, knowing that the day for the Christmas holidays closed in.
Soon he wouldn't see Neville at all, for weeks!

Then the same day as Draco's father was going to pick him up, the opportunity presented itself in an unexpected way. Most of the students had left school already, save for Potter and a few other orphans and misfits.
Draco was on his way to serve the last detention of the year in the dungeons, when Neville hurried past, not looking at him. Neville looked red eyed and resolute and Draco couldn't help seeing it as a personal insult.
"Have it your way, Neville!" he shouted after him. "Be a weak little coward!"
Neville just disappeared behind the corner and suddenly a strong hand jerked Draco through the open dungeon door. Snape gave him a scolding frown.
"Now, what on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Did you see how he just ignored me, professor Snape? The self- righteous..."
"His grandmother passed away some hours ago." Snaped informed him matter-of- factly. "You put yourself together at this moment and ..."
But Draco looked as if he had been struck by lightning.
"What?" he breathed.
Snape looked slightly impatient.
"She fell ill a few weeks ago and died unexpectedly this morning. Now, Mr Malfoy..."
But Draco felt as if he was going to lose his mind.
"I have to go" he said to Snape. "I'll finish the detention and do it twice as long if you just let me go, please!"
Snape sighed.
"I do not wish any double detentions with you, mr Malfoy."
"Say what you want and I'll fix it!" Draco's voice brimmed over with panic. "Money, power, slave labour, whatever! Just let me go!"
"And you would take the opportunity to wreck havoc again. No. Your father will be here within an hour and by then you should have finished the detention."
Snape looked so impossibly unreachable about the subject that Draco threw himself at his knees before the startled potion's master.
"PLEASE, by Merlin and all the gods and demons in hell! THIS IS ABOUT LIFE AND DEATH!"
Snape immediatly pulled him to his feet.
"STOP THAT AT ONCE! Sit down!"
Draco nodded and relaxed enough to make Snape let him go. Then he looked thoughtful for a second and glanced at the door.
"Oh, no!" Draco breathed, in a little too overworked act. "I forgot my pencil!"
"You don't need your..."
Before any of them managed to blink, Draco threw himself at the door and ran out, followed by Snape's furious shouting.
"DRACO!"
But Draco ran as if his father was after him, straight for the Gryffindor common room. He had no idea about what to do or what to say once he got there, but it didn't matter right now. Obviously, his system had decided he needed to find Neville before his brain had given its consent. Closing in on the Gryffindor wing of the castle, Draco stopped to catch his breath and ponder a problem ahead.
How was he supposed to enter without the Gryffindor password?
He doubted very much that he'd be let in if he knocked. And for all he knew, Neville might not be alone in there!
Before any more obstacles crossed his mind, the answer to the main question appeared before him like a golden key. A tiny little first year Gryffindor girl with a blonde ponytail and freckled nose crossed his way. Or more accurate, tried to cross it.
No time to lose. Draco dived into his most convincing act as the School Terrorizer Number One and blocked her way.

The password worked out fairly well, considering the long argument with the fat lady in the painting. But as Draco entered the Gryffindor common room, his rationality started to protest wildly.
This is insane. Potter could be here, for Merlin's sake! Get out, Draco. Get out before your entire prestigious reputation in this school is smashed under your own boots.
His heart started to beat ferociously as he scanned the common room after looting Gryffindors. To his relief it was empty, save for the couch beside the fireplace.
There he was, the one who had rocked his world so much that nothing seemed real anymore but this feverish craving. There was a deafening silence hanging over the room, but as Neville looked up with his heavy gaze, his cheeks stained with tears, Draco started talking as fast as he could, to prevent Neville from misinterpreting everything.
"I didn't know about your grandmother."
There. He said it. He really hoped it had come out right. It was quite an effort just to rinse all edgy things he could say out from a sentence. But Neville stared at him as if he had seen a ghost and Draco felt compelled to keep talking.
"I thought that you were pissed off about the Lucinda thing and nobody told me about your grandmother, obviously nobody would, and... and... I just walked by here so, thought I'd mention it. And now I have. So."
The surprised expression on Neville's face didn't fade.
"But... how did you get in here?"
"I...does it matter? Maybe I have contacts."
Draco smirked mischievously on pure reflex, but wiped the smile out in a heartbeat, as he realised it might serve his purposes very badly. Neville's eyes widened and he looked very close to crying again, his painfilled gaze bothering Draco on an unknown level.
"What are you going to do? Please just go and turn someone elses life into misery!"
"Neville, for fuck's sake!" Draco strode over to Neville's side and gestured to the couch.
"Can I sit down?" Not waiting for an answer, Draco took his seat beside Neville, looking intensily into the fire.
His hands were shaking, much to his dislike. Neville looked back with suspicion, moving back a little as Draco dared to glance up at him.
"I'm not here to...you know...if that's what you think."
Neville looked down, blushing in all his despair.
"Then...then why are you here?"
"I told you." Draco looked into the fire again and Neville followed his example.
"Because... you're sorry about...my grandmother?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably and felt the annoyance creep up. Why did Neville have to say the word 'sorry' in this context?
"If that's how you choose to interpret it." Draco pressed out, trying to keep a distant tone in his voice, as if he was only small-talking about the weather.
"Oh." Neville stared even harder at the flames. A moment of hyper-tensed silence passed. Draco knew that he needed to say something else, something better, very fast if the situation was to remain fairly stable, but this great monster seemed to be in the way, preventing access to such vocabulary. He tried glancing at Neville again. Neville glanced back and averted his eyes just as quickly.
Draco tried to move his hand, amazed that it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. He lifted it slightly and let it drop back into his knee three times before finally getting a hold of himself. Keeping Neville under constant watch, he slowly reached for the Gryffindor's hand resting on the couch. This time, Neville did not try to escape it, but only closed his eyes and allowed the pale fingers to carefully entwine with his.
The suspense was about to kill Draco and he heard himself in an unfamiliar low and small voice, pressing alien words past the monster.
"I didn't mean what I said. About your parents or about...thedeatheaterthing."
Neville looked up directly at him so suddenly that Draco almost dodged away, certain that he would recieve another painful punch or kick.
Instead, the Gryffindor's free hand shakily touched his cheek and Draco swallowed hard, unprepared for the response his body gave to it. Draco rose his other hand too and suddenly they were embracing each other, Neville hiding his face in Draco's shoulder. Fresh sobs broke out from Neville and for a long time, Draco was captivated with the privilege of the intimacy. Neville was open and vulnerable to him, holding him close and Draco was allowed to share this moment with him.
He stroke the unruly red curls, not thinking of anything better to do and desperatly hoping that it was the right thing to do. There wasn't a lot of practising or experience from home on the issue comforting and tenderness. Or crying in public.
It took a little while before Neville lifted his head and tried to wipe his face clean from the salty wetness.
"I'll have to stay here for Christmas." he said. "I don't have any relatives that feel like taking me in..."
Draco felt a horrible pang of guilt, as if the entire responsability of Neville's parents rested on him.
"I wish I could stay." Draco said. "Or that you could come with me. But I'm afraid the Malfoy family have had all the issues it could take this year."
Neville let out a small, spontanious chuckle between his tears.
"Do you mean that?"
Draco made a short nod, smirking at Neville's reaction.
It was relieving speaking so openly to Neville, saying what he felt like. Not having to play any games or keeping up appearances. The situation had turned around at a mad pace but no logic mattered. As little as it mattered that the mere thought of Neville coming home with him was enough to place anyone at St. Mungo's department for the mentally disturbed.
He kissed Neville on the forehead and then at the salty wet cheeks, hearing the trembling sighs in response. Then Draco just held him very close, not daring to continue his advances in fear of going too far.
Neville had this maddening effect on him, even when he cried over his dead grandmother.
"Your father will be here soon." Neville whispered.
"Yes. How did you know?" Draco looked at him in surprise.
"Dumbledore told me what day and time you were leaving."
"Indeed." Draco tried not to sound too cynical.
Despite the pressure from his headmaster in the everlasting sessions, Draco had refused to touch the subject about Neville, only to be greeted with those damned twinkling eyes.
"What are we going to do?" Nevilles question shot them back to reality in a frightening pace. But Draco felt how he melted at the sound of that voice. His father could go fuck himself.
"I'll think of a plan. You'll see."
"Like the one with Lucinda?"
Draco looked a little offended.
"I had to." he explained. "She was in my way."
Neville looked at him, frowning.
"It was a really cruel thing to do."
Draco smiled viciously.
"I told you I was a bit mean."
"You thought I wanted her, even for a second?"
Draco met Neville's eyes. Instead of answering, a strange spark flew between them and they lent forward and met in a passionate, desperate kiss. Draco felt starved and Neville obviously didn't hold anything back. Draco fell over him on the couch and soon Neville's whimpers and Draco's growls filled the silence. It was bliss having Neville this needy, so stripped of his resentments and all the Gryffindor righteousness. Draco was on fire and forgot everything around him.

As Draco hurried to meet his father, he was beaming, striding like a victorious general across the hall. Lucius eyed him curiously.
"I trust your term has continued without any further complications?"
Draco shot his father the winnig smile.
"Yes, father and I have learnt some very interesting things about the Gryffindors."
"Oh", Lucius said, clearly assuming it to be about Potter. "Anything useful?"
"Definitely!" Draco answered in his most cunning voice. "Mark my words, he's going down."
With that, he left his father content with the notion that he spoke about Potter, but there was an entirely different Gryffindor in Draco's mind.