CHAPTER NINE: FOREPLAY
A virginal trembling hand
Afrightened sacrificial lamb
From a blinding light a shadow falls
A code of silence quakes the halls
A whisper to a piercing scream
A love that's too frightening
-Dalbello-
Neville ran across the quiddish field to make it to the toilets in time, before the Gryffindor team came welling in.
He had been watching Harry and Ron as they practised on the eve of the coming match, or at least that's what he had told them. The truth was that the Slytherin theme had been there as well, both houses forced to share the field with each other since their teachers weren't cooperating when putting the teams on schedule. Draco had been there and that one glance they had been able to throw each other had been reward enough.
A week had gone by since school started and they hadn't got the slightest chance seeing each other, even for a few minutes. Neville sighed at the thought. The new Inquisitor Umbridge at Hogwarts held their existence in an iron grip.
As Neville hurried into the shower rooms and snuck into a toilet booth, he tried to imagine any solution to their problem, anyone at all. The frustration was growing, being left to spying on Draco at the lessons instead. And worst of all was potions, when professor Snape shot him an accusing stare as soon as he turned his eyes from the blackboard to the more tempting sight. If anyone could make Neville feel horribly guilty for his affections, it was Snape. And then Draco smiling at him, turning his cheeks even redder.
Neville finished his toilet visit and was just about to leave the booth when someone grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. Neville gave a start as his silent prayers had manifested in the doorway. Draco stood there, self-assured as usual, his entire position reminding Neville of a predator preparing to lay down its prey. His smile towards Neville and those glimmering eyes sent giddy streams through the Gryffindor's stomach and all the way down...
"I'm back, Neville."
"Uh...yeah, hi. H-how was your holiday?"
Neville felt incredibly stupid, but his shyness overcame him. Draco stepped into the booth and closed the door behind them and before Neville could react, Draco had locked his arms around his waist and pulled him close so that their bodies were pressed to each other. Neville let out a little gasp as Draco laid his mouth very close to Neville's ear, whispering in the most seductive voice Neville had ever heard.
"Why thank you, Neville, quite something. How was yours?"
Neville's body reacted as if Draco had whispered something really dirty and it didn't help much that Draco let his hot tounge dart into Neville's ear as he tried to answer.
"It-it was..."
And the words were lost in a trembling sigh, as Draco sucked at his ear, his throat, his lips, leaving little toothmarks. Neville felt himself go limp in the Slytherin's arms. He rested his hands on Draco's arms, gripping the cloth with a shiver as he felt two strong hands clenching his buttocks.
"N-not here!" he managed, his heart beating madly. "The team will be in any second!"
Draco only let out a small, sadistic chuckle.
"Then we'll have to wait here till they're leaving."
The hands were stroking his buttocks just a little bit rough and Neville lost the fight against his own body. His erection was rising and there was no way Draco wouldn't feel it.
Neville felt his back pressed into the wall all of a sudden and Draco's hands directed him to turn around, before grasping his hips.
With a violent pull, Draco had his own hardness pressed against Neville's buttocks and Neville stood on trembling legs, bracing himself with his hands up against the wall. His cheeks were burning hot and his breath sounded uneven.
Then those dangerous hands started to unbutton his pants.
"Oh, please..." he breathed, not entirely sure of what he meant.
But Draco's mouth was close to his ear again.
"You're mine." Draco whispered. "It's only fitting that I mark you as mine, wouldn't you say?"
Neville thought he would faint.
"Draco" he whimpered.
But his pants were pulled down and soon the gloved hands touched naked skin, fingers tracing the narrow cleft between his buttocks.
"No..." Neville let the word out in a sigh, signalling the opposite to what he said.
His face was flustered and his breathing fast and heavy. How could his legs even support him any longer? The wave of pleasure made his head spin, one part of him bending completely, another too frightened to let it continue. That leather-covered finger made a push against the small opening that sent a loud gasp out of Neville and a protesting sound, but he did not move.
He couldn't.
When this wicked leather stroke against his organ, teasing the tensing, throbbing sensation, Neville let out a surrendering moan. He could feel the explosion of his climax building up and drawing near. There was nothing else but those fingers on his sex, and the stroking of his...
Then the fingers were gone. Seconds later, a strong grip held his hips fixed.
Neville could hear the voices of the Gryffindor team at a distance, not knowing if he could abort this anymore.
"Stand absolutely still."
Draco's persuasive voice against his ear sent shivers through his spine. The kisses pressed against his back, the hands caressing him all over as the kisses went further and further down...
"I can't hold back!" Neville whispered, almost in tears.
"Oh, yes you can, and you will."
When the hot lips came to an end exactly at the delicate curve before his buttocks and the wet tounge lapped at it playfully, his mind was blown.
I don't care, the Gryffindor team can go to hell, I'll stay on the toilet with him and we'll...
The stinging pain took him by complete surprise. He cried out in shock, as Draco's sharp teeth cut through his flesh, sucking the wound mercilessly, scraping at it with his nails. Neville was shaking all over. His tears started to spill, but he obeyed Draco and stayed put in his exposed position, moaning and whimpering. He had to press his forehead to the cold tile to go through with it.
As soon as it was over, Draco rose and wrapped his arms around Neville's waist, kissing him gently on the neck and the wet cheeks, and spoke silky words in his ear.
"Mine." He repeated. "If there's ever any doubt, this will be the reminder for anyone who tries anything, till we meet again."
With that, the hands released him and before he could turn around, Draco was out of sight, gone from the booth and leaving the building. Neville sank down at the toilet seat, jumping up with a start as the searing pain shot through him. How was he supposed to sit at the lessons? Still, he needed release and the burning mark at his buttocks added to his overheated senses. A few fast jerks were all it took to send him over the edge, imagining Draco's recent dominance over him.
As the Gryffindor team made their way into the shower room, Neville snuck out as fast as he could, convinced that his voice or the colour of his cheeks would give him away if he stopped to speak to anyone.
As weeks flew by, Draco came to regret bitterly that he hadn't taken Neville there and then, concealed from the showering Gryffindors. But he had spent so much time staking out what he wished to do to Neville and half an hour in a toilet wouldn't even get him properly started. And there was the burning matter of the mark on his left arm as well, causing anguish by the mere thought. How could he proceed any further with Neville without letting him know?
So, as the perfectionist he was, he now had to suffer the frustrations of waiting it out.
In Lucius' opinion, Umbridge was the best that had happened to the school since the basilisk in the pipes made its raids fifty years ago. To Draco, it only proved that his father was a lot more disagreeable than he had thought. Sneaking around the school had become nearly impossible since the new rules came into practise and the waiting was growing unendurable.
There were only the small joys of seeing Neville squirm in classes, uncomfortable with sitting for a while, and the blush as Draco met his gaze.
But the weeks dragged on and since Draco had such a central role to play in his house, he wasn't left alone for a second. And as if it wasn't enough, this Umbridge toad really seemed to like him and handed over heaps of responsabilities. And Neville walked in the company of Potter, always with Potter, talking, smiling and laughing.
Draco noticed that he had started to bite his nails around them. Potter had all the quality time with Neville he could ever desire and Draco spent his with two blockheads, thankfully not informed by their parents about Draco's little show-off at the Christmas table. Pansy was after him worse than ever, leaving Draco with a feeling of a snare tightening around his neck.
Something had to be done.
Professor Snape was grading essays and laboration tests, as he heard the short knock by the door. He put the quill down and gave the door a threathening glare. If it was that Umbridge again, or twinkling Dumbledore with tea or anyone... well, nobody was really welcome right now.
"Enter!" he barked, determined to let the visitor know it intruded.
The meters went over in the red as Malfoy junior entered, wearing the omnious frustrated teenager face he had displayed since the term started. Snape's glare couldn't have been more cynical.
"Make it quick" he snapped, noting how Draco's frustration only increased as he strode over to Snape's desk.
"Professor" he began, "I need to ask you a great favour."
Draco seemed to ignore the warning signals beaming from Snape.
"I know this will sound a bit odd, but it's about Neville."
Surprise, surprise.
"I figured." Snape answered in his coldest voice. "You also know my opinion about any involvement."
"Please, professor, just hear me out."
"Your time is almost up."
"Neville's quite bad in potions, right? So, he could easily get a detention? And if you would need to leave the classroom for a while and I was sent in there to get something..."
Snape's eyebrow shot up, his breath almost lost at the insolence.
"Ten points from Slytherin!" he hissed out, rising from his chair.
Draco looked as if he didn't know which foot to stand on.
"But professor, I'd pay you if..."
"Twenty points from Slytherin!"
Draco drew in breath as if to protest, but so did Snape, fixing his gaze on his favourite student in a challenging stare, daring him to say another word. Draco looked down in defeat, nodding slowly, and pouted to express his disappointment. Snape was still shocked about the shameless suggestion and it angered him further that Draco would even have the nerve to look wronged in front of him.
"Close the door behind you when you go." He said venomously.
"Do you have any advice about what I should do, then?"
"WHAT!?"
Draco flinched at the outburst, taking a step back. Snape looked absolutely murderous, his eyes razor sharp.
"What did you say?" Snape whispered, his voice as sharp as his eyes.
Finally, Draco looked uncertain, hopefully knowing that he'd gone too far.
"I'm sorry professor. I'll just go back to Dumbledore and explain that you wouldn't help me."
Snape closed his eyes and opened them again.
"Dumbledore told you to come here?"
Draco nodded, watching Snape very carefully.
"He also said that...you'd help me to make a good strategy, so that, uh, I could see Neville a bit more often."
Snape let a scene of wishful thinking play before his inner eye, seeing how he strangled Dumbledore with his own beard, the old man choking on his tea before falling to the ground with his eyes fixed in an eternal twinkle...
"Mr Malfoy. Go up to your room. We'll discuss this tomorrow at six."
The tone of Snape's words sent Draco heading for the door very quickly.
As the door was shut, Snape sat rigid with a disdainful sneer. Not only was he asked to nurse the ungrateful Potter in occlumency lessons every Monday, but now, Dumbledore had handed over another menace to deal with. Well, his headmaster was going to hear what he thought about it and no cup of tea in the world could save the red cheeked old man.
Dumbledore stood in the doorway waiting for Draco, as he arrived to serve his detention.
Snape had gone straight to his headmaster with Draco's impernitence and revealed it as the fake it was. And then, of course, he had a detention to serve for lying to a teacher and Draco just knew that Snape wouldn't want any hands in it.
So, all he had to do now, was learning how to play the emotional strings of Dumbledore. Twin stars shone behind the crecsent-shaped glasses as his headmaster asked him in to his office.
"Well, young Malfoy, it seems you keep coming back to this point."
Even though Dumbledore sounded authoritive, he could not conceal a mysterious amusement in his voice. Draco wondered if the old headmaster was high on tealeaves. But Dumbledore continued talking as they climbed the stairs, now smiling openly in a parental way that made Draco nearly furious.
"So, let me see... your plan is to coax me into ordering Snape to do as you wished, concerning the Neville affair."
Draco held his breath for a second, before trying his innocent voice.
"No, headmaster, I was..."
"I'm afraid I'll have to make a slight change of plans."
Dumbledore laid his hand on the doorknob to his office.
"You will not serve your detention here tonight. Instead you will help Hagrid in the weekend, as you did last term."
Draco's mouth opened in panic to nestle himself out of the inconvenience, but he never got to speak. Dumbledore had opened the door and in one of the chairs at his huge desk sat Neville, looking very anxious. Draco stared at him and Neville's eyes grew wide.
"Well, in you go." Dumbledore ushered him on, still by the door himself.
"You see" he continued, "tonight you and Mr Longbottom will be serving detention together. You will sit in here and contemplate your recent behaviour."
Neville's cheeks went pure red. But Draco placed himself in the chair beside Neville, never taking his eyes of him as Dumbledore pointed at his desk.
"Unfortunately, I will need to attend an important matter. I will be gone for...say, an hour. There's tea and lemondrops on the table. Feel free to help yourself."
With eyes twinkling like mad, Dumbledore closed the door behind him with a meaningful smile and Draco and Neville was alone.
Draco kept watching Neville, his lips curling into a smirk. So Dumbledore had seen through him.
No matter. Dumbledore had still played him right in his hands and this hour was worth the weekend at Hagrids.
Meanwhile, Neville looked almost destroyed and threw Draco a quick glance.
"Wasn't that strange? How could he know about the toilet?"
"He doesn't, Neville."
Draco rose from his chair and took Neville's hand, urging him to stand up. Neville did so and threw Draco an annoyed frown, lips pouting.
"Did you fix us into this? You're hopeless! Quite a place for a date!"
Draco smirked, pulling Neville close. Only this time, Neville braced himself with his hands on Draco's shoulders, not to get too close.
"Don't even try it!" Neville locked eyes with Draco, his warm eyes like thunderclouds. "You have the nerve after... after our last meeting! I haven't been able to sit properly for weeks and not even mentioning the sneaking in the shower rooms!"
"Really, Neville. What did Potter think about it?"
Draco's mouth moved closer to Neville's, but the angry Gryffindor wasn't going to give in so easily this time.
"Harry? What has he got to do with..." Neville cut off the sentence and stared back at Draco, mirroring the suspicion.
"Tell me you're joking!" he managed.
Draco's eyes turned to poisonous slits.
"You did share all secrets, didn't you?"
Neville gave him such a hard push in the chest, that Draco staggered a few steps back. He quickly regained his dignified posture, ready to sting back.
Neville glared at him, his voice seething with anger.
"Harry's my FRIEND, Draco! What's WRONG with you?!"
"WRONG!? You spent Christmas in the arms of Harry, sharing secrets with him!"
"HARRY'S DATING CHO, DAMN IT! GET IT? A GIRL!"
"IF YOU MISSED ME SO MUCH YOU COULD HAVE..." Draco fell silent, a balancing reflection entering his mind.
Potter and Cho. Right.
And Neville's angry, innocent face. And really. What could Neville have done if he wanted Draco there? After all, he was the one who had shared his Christmas meal with a bunch of hungry death eaters.
Draco suddenly looked at his boots, then back at Neville, who stood there demanding reasonable answers.
"Still" Draco muttered, "Harry had you for Christmas and I didn't."
When Neville spoke next, he sounded so hurt that Draco felt a drop of acid hitting him with each word.
"You are jealous at Harry and you bit me? And there I was, missing you so much I could die and you..."
"Why, sorry Neville, next time I'll bite Harry instead!"
"IF YOU DO THAT, I'LL CUT HIS BALLS OFF!"
Neville stood gasping for breath and Draco almost did the same, but hid his shock with an arched eyebrow.
"Neville...?" Draco eyed him suspiciously.
"Do you think it was fun, spending Christmas in school instead of with a family? And then I went to see them, and they...they had to be locked into...because they..."
Neville's eyes started to fill with tears. Draco needed no names to know that Neville was talking about his parents. He felt incredibly stupid. Still, the Gryffindor stood his ground as usual, fighting back the tears while following Draco's every move as he approached. Despite Neville's warning gaze, Draco didn't hesitate before closing his arms around his property. Within heartbeats Neville had done the same and it took a while before they spoke.
"Wow.", Neville whispered. "We really need to talk more often."
"You meant what you said about Harry's balls?"
"Creep."
But they looked up at each other and Neville was smiling at him!
All sense left flew out the window. Draco leant close enough to let his tounge slip into Neville's mouth and as the kiss was answered, he simply swept the Gryffindor off his feet and sent them both falling down on Dumbledore's thick oriental carpets. Neville broke free from the kiss, staring up at the thriumphant Draco in panic.
"What are you doing? Are you nuts?! Not in here!"
Draco tried to sound casual, while hiding his smile.
"Why not? Wouldn't that be something, losing your virginity in Dumbledore's office?"
Draco started to suck at Neville's throat, but Neville squirmed too nervously, despite the sounds of consent he made.
"Draco, we can't do this, I can't do this here, I can't..."
Draco broke his sentence off with another kiss, struggling with Neville's tounge. Their tounges did wrestle, but Neville still held Draco close in a desperate grip, sighing as his hands slid down the Slytherin's back. This time, Draco went much gentler, taking his time to really feel Neville, with taste, touch and sight. After all, a great feast lay below him and he had enough manners to know that each little chew should be savoured.
He really enjoyed seeing Neville so caught up in his struggle between reason and pleasure. He imagined all he could do, tying Neville's hands up, exploiting his weak spots mercilessly, until Neville begged him to...
"Draco, please!"
Draco started to untie Neville's robes.
"Since you're asking..."
"No!"
Draco stopped and sighed.
"Now what?"
Neville was still gasping, but did his best to form words while blushing and avoiding his eyes shyly. The small gestures only fed Draco's fire, making it extremely difficult to hear every word through the trip of seeing the soft lips move, those dark, warm eyes searching for a safe place to look and the trembling hands, still nervously stroking Draco's back and hair.
"Um...I want to, but not in here. It's like...a bit too much, with the bird- phoenix watching and all...and...Dumbledore could come in any second... "
"And find you on your back with me between your legs?"
"Stop it! Yes!"
"Oh, what did you think the hour was for?"
"Draco...!"
Draco sighed and grabbed hold of Neville's chin to catch his eyes. Neville only drew a shivering breath, more out of desire than anything else.
"Listen. There's no going all the way here. It would take me the entire night before I had finished with you. So, just relax and enjoy the ride."
With this, Draco resumed the kissing, licking Neville's ear until the Gryffindor hardened from the exstacy, pressing his body against Draco's without any control. As for Draco, he revelled in his victory, keeping Neville on the painful border between tension and relieving. But he did keep his mind partly on the time. The chances of having Neville's knee revisiting his crutch were very high, would Dumbledore have entered the room.
Draco had to gain all his will not to ignore the entire world when it was time to finish. Both on their feet, they stood tidying each other up, Draco fastening Neville's robes and Neville smoothing Draco's hair with his fingers. They couldn't stop their lips from meeting frequently.
Between the kisses, Draco eyed Neville's thin, worn robes.
"Why aren't you wearing proper winter robes? It must be freezing in those."
"Some of us can only afford one set of robes."
"Didn't your grandmother leave anything to you?"
Neville looked down.
"I'm not from a rich family, Draco. I don't have a father who could buy Diagon alley for me as a birthday gift."
Draco kissed Neville's forehead.
"Then the least my father can do is paying for some real good Gryffindor clothes, wouldn't you say?"
Neville looked up in disbelief.
"Yeah, right. How would you make him do that?"
Draco just shot him the wicked smile.
"Trust me. What he doesn't know, will keep him content."
Then no more words passed between them since Dumbledore walked in, but that hot gaze Neville gave him, lasting but a heartbeat, seemed to cause a major meltdown in the icy landscape within Draco. And all the time, he kept every thought of the black mark on his arm under heavy repression.
A virginal trembling hand
Afrightened sacrificial lamb
From a blinding light a shadow falls
A code of silence quakes the halls
A whisper to a piercing scream
A love that's too frightening
-Dalbello-
Neville ran across the quiddish field to make it to the toilets in time, before the Gryffindor team came welling in.
He had been watching Harry and Ron as they practised on the eve of the coming match, or at least that's what he had told them. The truth was that the Slytherin theme had been there as well, both houses forced to share the field with each other since their teachers weren't cooperating when putting the teams on schedule. Draco had been there and that one glance they had been able to throw each other had been reward enough.
A week had gone by since school started and they hadn't got the slightest chance seeing each other, even for a few minutes. Neville sighed at the thought. The new Inquisitor Umbridge at Hogwarts held their existence in an iron grip.
As Neville hurried into the shower rooms and snuck into a toilet booth, he tried to imagine any solution to their problem, anyone at all. The frustration was growing, being left to spying on Draco at the lessons instead. And worst of all was potions, when professor Snape shot him an accusing stare as soon as he turned his eyes from the blackboard to the more tempting sight. If anyone could make Neville feel horribly guilty for his affections, it was Snape. And then Draco smiling at him, turning his cheeks even redder.
Neville finished his toilet visit and was just about to leave the booth when someone grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. Neville gave a start as his silent prayers had manifested in the doorway. Draco stood there, self-assured as usual, his entire position reminding Neville of a predator preparing to lay down its prey. His smile towards Neville and those glimmering eyes sent giddy streams through the Gryffindor's stomach and all the way down...
"I'm back, Neville."
"Uh...yeah, hi. H-how was your holiday?"
Neville felt incredibly stupid, but his shyness overcame him. Draco stepped into the booth and closed the door behind them and before Neville could react, Draco had locked his arms around his waist and pulled him close so that their bodies were pressed to each other. Neville let out a little gasp as Draco laid his mouth very close to Neville's ear, whispering in the most seductive voice Neville had ever heard.
"Why thank you, Neville, quite something. How was yours?"
Neville's body reacted as if Draco had whispered something really dirty and it didn't help much that Draco let his hot tounge dart into Neville's ear as he tried to answer.
"It-it was..."
And the words were lost in a trembling sigh, as Draco sucked at his ear, his throat, his lips, leaving little toothmarks. Neville felt himself go limp in the Slytherin's arms. He rested his hands on Draco's arms, gripping the cloth with a shiver as he felt two strong hands clenching his buttocks.
"N-not here!" he managed, his heart beating madly. "The team will be in any second!"
Draco only let out a small, sadistic chuckle.
"Then we'll have to wait here till they're leaving."
The hands were stroking his buttocks just a little bit rough and Neville lost the fight against his own body. His erection was rising and there was no way Draco wouldn't feel it.
Neville felt his back pressed into the wall all of a sudden and Draco's hands directed him to turn around, before grasping his hips.
With a violent pull, Draco had his own hardness pressed against Neville's buttocks and Neville stood on trembling legs, bracing himself with his hands up against the wall. His cheeks were burning hot and his breath sounded uneven.
Then those dangerous hands started to unbutton his pants.
"Oh, please..." he breathed, not entirely sure of what he meant.
But Draco's mouth was close to his ear again.
"You're mine." Draco whispered. "It's only fitting that I mark you as mine, wouldn't you say?"
Neville thought he would faint.
"Draco" he whimpered.
But his pants were pulled down and soon the gloved hands touched naked skin, fingers tracing the narrow cleft between his buttocks.
"No..." Neville let the word out in a sigh, signalling the opposite to what he said.
His face was flustered and his breathing fast and heavy. How could his legs even support him any longer? The wave of pleasure made his head spin, one part of him bending completely, another too frightened to let it continue. That leather-covered finger made a push against the small opening that sent a loud gasp out of Neville and a protesting sound, but he did not move.
He couldn't.
When this wicked leather stroke against his organ, teasing the tensing, throbbing sensation, Neville let out a surrendering moan. He could feel the explosion of his climax building up and drawing near. There was nothing else but those fingers on his sex, and the stroking of his...
Then the fingers were gone. Seconds later, a strong grip held his hips fixed.
Neville could hear the voices of the Gryffindor team at a distance, not knowing if he could abort this anymore.
"Stand absolutely still."
Draco's persuasive voice against his ear sent shivers through his spine. The kisses pressed against his back, the hands caressing him all over as the kisses went further and further down...
"I can't hold back!" Neville whispered, almost in tears.
"Oh, yes you can, and you will."
When the hot lips came to an end exactly at the delicate curve before his buttocks and the wet tounge lapped at it playfully, his mind was blown.
I don't care, the Gryffindor team can go to hell, I'll stay on the toilet with him and we'll...
The stinging pain took him by complete surprise. He cried out in shock, as Draco's sharp teeth cut through his flesh, sucking the wound mercilessly, scraping at it with his nails. Neville was shaking all over. His tears started to spill, but he obeyed Draco and stayed put in his exposed position, moaning and whimpering. He had to press his forehead to the cold tile to go through with it.
As soon as it was over, Draco rose and wrapped his arms around Neville's waist, kissing him gently on the neck and the wet cheeks, and spoke silky words in his ear.
"Mine." He repeated. "If there's ever any doubt, this will be the reminder for anyone who tries anything, till we meet again."
With that, the hands released him and before he could turn around, Draco was out of sight, gone from the booth and leaving the building. Neville sank down at the toilet seat, jumping up with a start as the searing pain shot through him. How was he supposed to sit at the lessons? Still, he needed release and the burning mark at his buttocks added to his overheated senses. A few fast jerks were all it took to send him over the edge, imagining Draco's recent dominance over him.
As the Gryffindor team made their way into the shower room, Neville snuck out as fast as he could, convinced that his voice or the colour of his cheeks would give him away if he stopped to speak to anyone.
As weeks flew by, Draco came to regret bitterly that he hadn't taken Neville there and then, concealed from the showering Gryffindors. But he had spent so much time staking out what he wished to do to Neville and half an hour in a toilet wouldn't even get him properly started. And there was the burning matter of the mark on his left arm as well, causing anguish by the mere thought. How could he proceed any further with Neville without letting him know?
So, as the perfectionist he was, he now had to suffer the frustrations of waiting it out.
In Lucius' opinion, Umbridge was the best that had happened to the school since the basilisk in the pipes made its raids fifty years ago. To Draco, it only proved that his father was a lot more disagreeable than he had thought. Sneaking around the school had become nearly impossible since the new rules came into practise and the waiting was growing unendurable.
There were only the small joys of seeing Neville squirm in classes, uncomfortable with sitting for a while, and the blush as Draco met his gaze.
But the weeks dragged on and since Draco had such a central role to play in his house, he wasn't left alone for a second. And as if it wasn't enough, this Umbridge toad really seemed to like him and handed over heaps of responsabilities. And Neville walked in the company of Potter, always with Potter, talking, smiling and laughing.
Draco noticed that he had started to bite his nails around them. Potter had all the quality time with Neville he could ever desire and Draco spent his with two blockheads, thankfully not informed by their parents about Draco's little show-off at the Christmas table. Pansy was after him worse than ever, leaving Draco with a feeling of a snare tightening around his neck.
Something had to be done.
Professor Snape was grading essays and laboration tests, as he heard the short knock by the door. He put the quill down and gave the door a threathening glare. If it was that Umbridge again, or twinkling Dumbledore with tea or anyone... well, nobody was really welcome right now.
"Enter!" he barked, determined to let the visitor know it intruded.
The meters went over in the red as Malfoy junior entered, wearing the omnious frustrated teenager face he had displayed since the term started. Snape's glare couldn't have been more cynical.
"Make it quick" he snapped, noting how Draco's frustration only increased as he strode over to Snape's desk.
"Professor" he began, "I need to ask you a great favour."
Draco seemed to ignore the warning signals beaming from Snape.
"I know this will sound a bit odd, but it's about Neville."
Surprise, surprise.
"I figured." Snape answered in his coldest voice. "You also know my opinion about any involvement."
"Please, professor, just hear me out."
"Your time is almost up."
"Neville's quite bad in potions, right? So, he could easily get a detention? And if you would need to leave the classroom for a while and I was sent in there to get something..."
Snape's eyebrow shot up, his breath almost lost at the insolence.
"Ten points from Slytherin!" he hissed out, rising from his chair.
Draco looked as if he didn't know which foot to stand on.
"But professor, I'd pay you if..."
"Twenty points from Slytherin!"
Draco drew in breath as if to protest, but so did Snape, fixing his gaze on his favourite student in a challenging stare, daring him to say another word. Draco looked down in defeat, nodding slowly, and pouted to express his disappointment. Snape was still shocked about the shameless suggestion and it angered him further that Draco would even have the nerve to look wronged in front of him.
"Close the door behind you when you go." He said venomously.
"Do you have any advice about what I should do, then?"
"WHAT!?"
Draco flinched at the outburst, taking a step back. Snape looked absolutely murderous, his eyes razor sharp.
"What did you say?" Snape whispered, his voice as sharp as his eyes.
Finally, Draco looked uncertain, hopefully knowing that he'd gone too far.
"I'm sorry professor. I'll just go back to Dumbledore and explain that you wouldn't help me."
Snape closed his eyes and opened them again.
"Dumbledore told you to come here?"
Draco nodded, watching Snape very carefully.
"He also said that...you'd help me to make a good strategy, so that, uh, I could see Neville a bit more often."
Snape let a scene of wishful thinking play before his inner eye, seeing how he strangled Dumbledore with his own beard, the old man choking on his tea before falling to the ground with his eyes fixed in an eternal twinkle...
"Mr Malfoy. Go up to your room. We'll discuss this tomorrow at six."
The tone of Snape's words sent Draco heading for the door very quickly.
As the door was shut, Snape sat rigid with a disdainful sneer. Not only was he asked to nurse the ungrateful Potter in occlumency lessons every Monday, but now, Dumbledore had handed over another menace to deal with. Well, his headmaster was going to hear what he thought about it and no cup of tea in the world could save the red cheeked old man.
Dumbledore stood in the doorway waiting for Draco, as he arrived to serve his detention.
Snape had gone straight to his headmaster with Draco's impernitence and revealed it as the fake it was. And then, of course, he had a detention to serve for lying to a teacher and Draco just knew that Snape wouldn't want any hands in it.
So, all he had to do now, was learning how to play the emotional strings of Dumbledore. Twin stars shone behind the crecsent-shaped glasses as his headmaster asked him in to his office.
"Well, young Malfoy, it seems you keep coming back to this point."
Even though Dumbledore sounded authoritive, he could not conceal a mysterious amusement in his voice. Draco wondered if the old headmaster was high on tealeaves. But Dumbledore continued talking as they climbed the stairs, now smiling openly in a parental way that made Draco nearly furious.
"So, let me see... your plan is to coax me into ordering Snape to do as you wished, concerning the Neville affair."
Draco held his breath for a second, before trying his innocent voice.
"No, headmaster, I was..."
"I'm afraid I'll have to make a slight change of plans."
Dumbledore laid his hand on the doorknob to his office.
"You will not serve your detention here tonight. Instead you will help Hagrid in the weekend, as you did last term."
Draco's mouth opened in panic to nestle himself out of the inconvenience, but he never got to speak. Dumbledore had opened the door and in one of the chairs at his huge desk sat Neville, looking very anxious. Draco stared at him and Neville's eyes grew wide.
"Well, in you go." Dumbledore ushered him on, still by the door himself.
"You see" he continued, "tonight you and Mr Longbottom will be serving detention together. You will sit in here and contemplate your recent behaviour."
Neville's cheeks went pure red. But Draco placed himself in the chair beside Neville, never taking his eyes of him as Dumbledore pointed at his desk.
"Unfortunately, I will need to attend an important matter. I will be gone for...say, an hour. There's tea and lemondrops on the table. Feel free to help yourself."
With eyes twinkling like mad, Dumbledore closed the door behind him with a meaningful smile and Draco and Neville was alone.
Draco kept watching Neville, his lips curling into a smirk. So Dumbledore had seen through him.
No matter. Dumbledore had still played him right in his hands and this hour was worth the weekend at Hagrids.
Meanwhile, Neville looked almost destroyed and threw Draco a quick glance.
"Wasn't that strange? How could he know about the toilet?"
"He doesn't, Neville."
Draco rose from his chair and took Neville's hand, urging him to stand up. Neville did so and threw Draco an annoyed frown, lips pouting.
"Did you fix us into this? You're hopeless! Quite a place for a date!"
Draco smirked, pulling Neville close. Only this time, Neville braced himself with his hands on Draco's shoulders, not to get too close.
"Don't even try it!" Neville locked eyes with Draco, his warm eyes like thunderclouds. "You have the nerve after... after our last meeting! I haven't been able to sit properly for weeks and not even mentioning the sneaking in the shower rooms!"
"Really, Neville. What did Potter think about it?"
Draco's mouth moved closer to Neville's, but the angry Gryffindor wasn't going to give in so easily this time.
"Harry? What has he got to do with..." Neville cut off the sentence and stared back at Draco, mirroring the suspicion.
"Tell me you're joking!" he managed.
Draco's eyes turned to poisonous slits.
"You did share all secrets, didn't you?"
Neville gave him such a hard push in the chest, that Draco staggered a few steps back. He quickly regained his dignified posture, ready to sting back.
Neville glared at him, his voice seething with anger.
"Harry's my FRIEND, Draco! What's WRONG with you?!"
"WRONG!? You spent Christmas in the arms of Harry, sharing secrets with him!"
"HARRY'S DATING CHO, DAMN IT! GET IT? A GIRL!"
"IF YOU MISSED ME SO MUCH YOU COULD HAVE..." Draco fell silent, a balancing reflection entering his mind.
Potter and Cho. Right.
And Neville's angry, innocent face. And really. What could Neville have done if he wanted Draco there? After all, he was the one who had shared his Christmas meal with a bunch of hungry death eaters.
Draco suddenly looked at his boots, then back at Neville, who stood there demanding reasonable answers.
"Still" Draco muttered, "Harry had you for Christmas and I didn't."
When Neville spoke next, he sounded so hurt that Draco felt a drop of acid hitting him with each word.
"You are jealous at Harry and you bit me? And there I was, missing you so much I could die and you..."
"Why, sorry Neville, next time I'll bite Harry instead!"
"IF YOU DO THAT, I'LL CUT HIS BALLS OFF!"
Neville stood gasping for breath and Draco almost did the same, but hid his shock with an arched eyebrow.
"Neville...?" Draco eyed him suspiciously.
"Do you think it was fun, spending Christmas in school instead of with a family? And then I went to see them, and they...they had to be locked into...because they..."
Neville's eyes started to fill with tears. Draco needed no names to know that Neville was talking about his parents. He felt incredibly stupid. Still, the Gryffindor stood his ground as usual, fighting back the tears while following Draco's every move as he approached. Despite Neville's warning gaze, Draco didn't hesitate before closing his arms around his property. Within heartbeats Neville had done the same and it took a while before they spoke.
"Wow.", Neville whispered. "We really need to talk more often."
"You meant what you said about Harry's balls?"
"Creep."
But they looked up at each other and Neville was smiling at him!
All sense left flew out the window. Draco leant close enough to let his tounge slip into Neville's mouth and as the kiss was answered, he simply swept the Gryffindor off his feet and sent them both falling down on Dumbledore's thick oriental carpets. Neville broke free from the kiss, staring up at the thriumphant Draco in panic.
"What are you doing? Are you nuts?! Not in here!"
Draco tried to sound casual, while hiding his smile.
"Why not? Wouldn't that be something, losing your virginity in Dumbledore's office?"
Draco started to suck at Neville's throat, but Neville squirmed too nervously, despite the sounds of consent he made.
"Draco, we can't do this, I can't do this here, I can't..."
Draco broke his sentence off with another kiss, struggling with Neville's tounge. Their tounges did wrestle, but Neville still held Draco close in a desperate grip, sighing as his hands slid down the Slytherin's back. This time, Draco went much gentler, taking his time to really feel Neville, with taste, touch and sight. After all, a great feast lay below him and he had enough manners to know that each little chew should be savoured.
He really enjoyed seeing Neville so caught up in his struggle between reason and pleasure. He imagined all he could do, tying Neville's hands up, exploiting his weak spots mercilessly, until Neville begged him to...
"Draco, please!"
Draco started to untie Neville's robes.
"Since you're asking..."
"No!"
Draco stopped and sighed.
"Now what?"
Neville was still gasping, but did his best to form words while blushing and avoiding his eyes shyly. The small gestures only fed Draco's fire, making it extremely difficult to hear every word through the trip of seeing the soft lips move, those dark, warm eyes searching for a safe place to look and the trembling hands, still nervously stroking Draco's back and hair.
"Um...I want to, but not in here. It's like...a bit too much, with the bird- phoenix watching and all...and...Dumbledore could come in any second... "
"And find you on your back with me between your legs?"
"Stop it! Yes!"
"Oh, what did you think the hour was for?"
"Draco...!"
Draco sighed and grabbed hold of Neville's chin to catch his eyes. Neville only drew a shivering breath, more out of desire than anything else.
"Listen. There's no going all the way here. It would take me the entire night before I had finished with you. So, just relax and enjoy the ride."
With this, Draco resumed the kissing, licking Neville's ear until the Gryffindor hardened from the exstacy, pressing his body against Draco's without any control. As for Draco, he revelled in his victory, keeping Neville on the painful border between tension and relieving. But he did keep his mind partly on the time. The chances of having Neville's knee revisiting his crutch were very high, would Dumbledore have entered the room.
Draco had to gain all his will not to ignore the entire world when it was time to finish. Both on their feet, they stood tidying each other up, Draco fastening Neville's robes and Neville smoothing Draco's hair with his fingers. They couldn't stop their lips from meeting frequently.
Between the kisses, Draco eyed Neville's thin, worn robes.
"Why aren't you wearing proper winter robes? It must be freezing in those."
"Some of us can only afford one set of robes."
"Didn't your grandmother leave anything to you?"
Neville looked down.
"I'm not from a rich family, Draco. I don't have a father who could buy Diagon alley for me as a birthday gift."
Draco kissed Neville's forehead.
"Then the least my father can do is paying for some real good Gryffindor clothes, wouldn't you say?"
Neville looked up in disbelief.
"Yeah, right. How would you make him do that?"
Draco just shot him the wicked smile.
"Trust me. What he doesn't know, will keep him content."
Then no more words passed between them since Dumbledore walked in, but that hot gaze Neville gave him, lasting but a heartbeat, seemed to cause a major meltdown in the icy landscape within Draco. And all the time, he kept every thought of the black mark on his arm under heavy repression.