Greetings to you all and thank you for revieiwing!
I feel a need to answerDesiree K Troy who is areally a faithful reviewer and reader: Well, some of my errors are by mistake, due to writing late at night and some of them are on purpose. For instance: The pen/quill thing was a pure mistake and the placing of Cho and Lee Jordan in the same year as Harry was deliberate, only because I thought it more fun. I have read the Potter chronicles - I promise!- and I've even forced my boyfriend to travel with me to London the 16th July to fetch my copy of The Half-blood Prince there.
As for the language that sometimes fail, I blame my Swedish descent and, as you guessed, a sometimes lazy attitude to correct the chapters before uploading them. Well, I hope I answered your questions. I'm flattered that you like my stories and please keep reviewing!

After this chapter there will be two more and then it's complete. But for now, let's see what sort of trouble we have left our young sinners in this time...
I hope you'll enjoy it!

CHAPTER NINETEEN: MISCALCULATIONS

How does a vision of Heaven
Become a living Hell?
-H Jones-

As the summer holiday closed in, the school almost vibrated with nervous energy from the leaking frustrations about exams and grades. Every student was buzzing around the school, preparing for well deserved rest and very slowly, the breathing holes started to emerge.
The spring green lawn outside Hogwarts, with its many thick-leafed trees and colourful flowers, was a very popular chill out zone.
Draco had settled on relaxing far earlier than normal.
After all, his father wouldn't be there to see his grades, which he trusted to be good enough anyway, and he could do with some serious vacation after everything he had gone through this year. And this day was the last one in Hogwarts, since they all left for the summer the following morning.
So, whistling a happy tune, he patrolled the lawn with the ever-loyal Crabbe and Goyle as his support and made sure to squeeze every drop of terror he could from his prefect title before going home.
Potter, Granger, Weasley and Neville were seated under a tree, having its leafy branches shadowing them from the burning sun only a stone's throw away. Draco still couldn't handle it very well, seeing Potter too close to Neville.
But on the other hand, Draco and his Gryffindor lover had been using the toilets a lot to confirm their mutual desire, so maybe he could just do with keeping a watchful eye on them. They had even planned some secret meetings in London during the summer, which would be easy for Neville, since he would be living there in a strange house once belonging to Draco's mother's old family. Neville had been unwilling to tell him about it further, murmuring something about a promise he had to keep, but Draco counted on himself to trick it out of him later on. So Neville had confirmed that he was still serious, which meant that everything was in order.
Or maybe not.
A very serious air was hanging over the Gryffindor quartet and suddenly, Neville snuck his arm around Potter's shoulders, talking so close to Potter's ear that he could easily stick his tongue into it if desired.
The logical thread in Draco's brain tensed and threatened to snap.
Right. It was probably about the Sirius Incident. Neville had informed him about it. Potter had a criminal mass-murderer for a godfather who had been killed in the ministry fight. Neville was very likely consoling Potter about it.
It was plain logic. Nothing to worry about at all.
Then why was he striding across the lawn in their direction, forcing Crabbe and Goyle to break into half running?
Never mind. He needed to see Neville about something anyway.
Silence struck the four Gryffindors the moment Draco arrived. But the faces he received were quite mixed.
Potter glared at him darkly, full of suspicion. Granger looked worried and watchful at once, touching Ron's hand that had turned into a slight shade of red like the rest of him and Neville had this slight blush and dreamy, expectant eyes.
"What do you think you're doing here?" Harry said in a low, tensed voice.
Draco smirked at him, ready to fire off.
"Would you like to sit down?"
Everybody had a start at Hermione's suggestion. Ron was staring back and forth at Draco and Hermione, before fixing his eyes on Draco with his characteristic sick face.
Draco forced a horrible reply back down his throat, determined not to look too bad in front of Neville and settled for the censored answer.
"I don't think so, Granger. You see, I pick my company with a little more taste."
Neville frowned. Not good.
And even worse was that Potter flew up from the grass, drawing out his wand.
"If you're going to walk away in one piece, you better do it now!"
Draco drew out his own wand, staring coldly into Harry's burning eyes.
"So, you're that eager for detentions?"
"Could you just STOP?" Neville shouted and Draco took the opportunity to execute his business.
"Detention, Longbottom." Draco drawled, handing his stunned lover a rolled parchment.
Neville gaped at the parchment in time with his friends.
"WHAT? But I didn't…"
Draco smiled maliciously.
"Are you sticking up against a prefect, Longbottom?"
Neville's blushed wonderfully.
"No, but…"
"I really hope not, or I would need to do something about it." Draco answered with a mean glint in his eyes.
Hermione looked very thoughtful, but Harry and Ron were now both standing with wands raised at Draco.
"If that's all, then beat it!" Harry warned.
Draco's smile only deepened, but he turned around very briskly and waved a hand to Crabbe and Goyle, who followed like two obedient pets.
After all, his plan had been set in motion.

Neville sighed heavily as he dragged his feet along the corridor to the dreaded detention. He couldn't believe that professor Treelawney had actually thought him rude and inattentive. True, he had been gazing with dim eyes through the clouded air rather than into his crystal ball and he had actually carved a little heart into the table with the letters 'D' and 'N' in it. But he never thought Treelawney would have noticed it, completely occupied with casting heart-stopping dark prophecies over Harry.
He climbed the stairs slowly, knowing that he was a little too early. But he really wanted this embarrassing situation to be over as soon as possible.
Knocking weakly without being answered, Neville carefully entered the room and closed the door quietly enough for an assassin to envy him.
"P-professor Treelawney?" He called, with a small, shaky voice. He shot a quick glance back at the door, still jumpy since his moment of terror with Lucius in the astronomy tower. No answer came, and very carefully, Neville started to make his way through the velvet-draped room.
"Professor, it's me, Neville? I'm sorry about my behaviour, walking right in like this." He looked around anxiously.
"If I'm too early, I could step outside and wait. I don't usually do like this…"
"Don't worry. You're right on time."
Neville spun around so quickly, he almost lost his footing. Then he drew a deep breath in relief.
Draco was standing in front of a tall window, facing him with a smirk.
"You…!" Neville began, but Draco lifted his finger to his lips, motioning to Neville for silence.
Then Draco resolutely walked up to Neville and grabbed both his upper arms, drawing him in violently for a very intimate kiss. Neville answered it passionately, hardly breaking it when Draco drew his wand out to lock the door and put a silencing spell over the room.
"No detention, I knew it!" Neville gasped.
"What are you talking about?" Draco answered with a reproaching edge in his voice, clenching Neville's arms a little harder. "True enough, Treelawney has left for her vacation, but your behaviour towards a prefect still cannot go unpunished!"
"Draco…!" Neville murmured, feeling a jolt in his stomach along with a burning heat of embarrassment in his face.
But Draco sternly dragged him up a small staircase in the room, to a corner covered with velvet cushions and candles burning attached to the cold stone wall. Neville didn't resist too much, but he felt so nervous, he didn't know what to do with his hands and feet. Draco's words awoke such a deep arousal in him that he was already dizzy from the pleasure.
It turned out he wouldn't need to worry about his hands at all. Draco pushed him down to the pillows, firm and gentle at the same time, and started to tie Neville's wrists together with a thin rope.
Neville looked down at his hands, not knowing where else to look. He was already hard, taking unexpectedly much pleasure from their little game and Draco made him feel like a virgin every time a new perverted meeting was in store.
"Be still!" Draco whispered with a dangerous authority, as he straddled Neville and put the tied hands up against the wall. Neville felt his wrists fastened to one of the candleholders, which positioned him leaning back against the wall, still sitting on the cushions with Draco placed on his thighs. Draco smiled at him for a second, stroking his hand down the Gryffindor's chest and stomach, all the way down to the strained pants, where he pressured it slightly. Neville couldn't help making a pining sound and Draco rose a little, only to unbuckle Neville's pants and part his legs. Then Draco pressed himself close to Neville, grasping his chin and kissing him hungrily while letting his hand crawl under Neville's underwear, teasing the craving sex.
Neville moaned in desperation, hoping that Draco would finish it off fast this time, but Draco seemed to work way too slow and calculated, suddenly breaking their feverish kisses to fix their gazes together.
"So, Mr Longbottom." He whispered, with triumph worthy of Snape catching a student red-handed. "You'll regret your nosiness very dearly."
"But…" Neville breathed, his thoughts upside down due to Draco's strokes. "I didn't, I never…"
"No?"
Draco frowned and then he lifted an eyebrow while removing Neville's shirt. He pinched Neville's pink little nipple lightly, having tortured sighs and moans in response.
"You still have no regret?"
The fingers on Neville's nipple hardened their grip, slowly making the pressure agonizingly painful.
"Ow!" Neville cried, writhing under Draco's touch. Draco smirked sadistically and bent forward to suck hard on Neville's throat. The warm wetness at such a sensitive spot nearly had Neville coming, even though Draco had ceased his stroking. The roughness of the kiss at the neck only shot warm streams through his system and the tears that started to gather in his eyes from the painful treatment was mostly out of frustration for not getting to reach the ecstatic heights of the climax.
Draco drew back from his throat slightly, licking inside his ears until Neville lost control and tossed his head from left to right, trying to escape the overload of sensation.
"I think" Draco whispered, "that as a prefect I have no choice but to have you…disciplined…into a proper behaviour."
Neville let out a miserable groan.
"Please…please Draco, I can't, I can't…"
Draco smirked again, looking thoroughly evil and immaculately sexy.
"Don't you dare to come without my command."
Then he simply removed himself from Neville and unhooked the hands from the wall. With his wrists still tied together, Neville was made to kneel bended over, facing the wall with his buttocks exposed to Draco and his elbows supporting him on the dark red cushions.
Draco had gotten to his feet and Neville heard a sound as if a windy draught had whiffed past them. Then he felt it.
SMACK.
"OW!"
A stinging pain had struck one of his buttocks, very precise and pointed. Neville dared to cast a quick glance back at Draco and saw him standing with a horsewhip in his hands, beaming with irresistible authority.
"Keep your eyes on the wall!"
A new lash was aimed at both his buttocks, making him cry out against his will. Then another one followed. His skin was burning already, giddy streams shot through his stomach and his sex was throbbing and jerking, wishing to do what it was not allowed to.
"Are you going to behave?"
"Yes, Yes, oh please…!"
"And you'll do exactly as told?"
"Yes!"
Neville was certain that this would mean the conclusion, that Draco would take him then and let him jerk off in his hands. But Draco didn't seem to move.
"Good." He heard Draco's heated voice say, filled with satisfaction. "Then remain in your position. I think I wish to see your backsides shine to match the pillows."
Neville started to count backwards not to lose the little grip he had left over himself and lash after burning lash was marking him, sending him into throws of dark, unbearable ecstasy. The tears were flowing from his face as he squirmed and cried out from the pain and still…still the fearful sound of the whip almost made his seed spill.
A cool hand touching his buttocks made him wince and gasp from the soreness and gravity seemed to work again. But just barely.
Strong hands was pushing him over so that he rested on his back suddenly, giving him a start as the buttocks made contact with the cushions below them.
"That's it, my beautiful little Gryffindor." Draco whispered close to his ear, leaning over him with predatory grace. The smoothness of Draco's robes over his naked skin was bliss, as was the hands that now caressed him all over, taking turns to unfasten the Slytherin robes.
As soon as Draco's pants were open, Neville's wrists were forced down on the pillows over his head, and Draco started to push his hard organ into him while driving Neville's knees wider apart. Neville winded his legs around Draco's back, moaning and gasping with silent pleas.
"Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes…!"
Draco bent down to kiss him with a ravenous force, like a starving wolf. Neville opened up for him, feeling his entire being yield to the body entering his intimate places and fell into the hard rhythm of the sex riding him.
The pain was not pain anymore. The tears was manifestations of soul deep affection and as Draco moved his hand to Neville's sex, working it the way Neville could never resist, Neville lifted his back up in an arch to meet Draco's every move, words spilling out of him in a desperate yearning.
"Please, please let me…oh…tell me to…"
Draco stopped for a moment, panting with his forehead damp and face slightly blushed.
"Tell you to do what, Neville?" He asked viciously, his voice drunk from the building climax.
"Tell me to…to come…please!" Neville begged, throwing all dignity and resentment away.
"You want to come?"
Draco regained his tight-gripped strokes at Neville's tortured organ and pierced him with an intense gaze. Neville almost screamed.
"YES, PLEASE!"
"Then you have to say my name." Draco ordered. "Say my name then, as you come, Neville!"
Neville moaned and screamed out loud as he finally had his reward, chanting Draco's name in his rapturous fits of pleasure.
Draco came inside him at the same time, pushing into him quite harshly. It seemed to take them longer than usual to step down from the delirious state, but finally Draco laid over Neville, gasping as he untied the knots around the Gryffindor's wrists.
Neville moved his arms to stroke Draco very intensely all over and started to remove the rest of his lover's clothes.
Draco allowed it and even helped him until their skin contact had no interruptions. The kisses and strokes were eager for a good while, before they both collapsed in each other's arms.
Neville let sleep drift over him with Draco spooning him tightly from behind, knowing one thing for certain.
Something had healed in both of them with the knowledge that Draco's father was gone from the picture and now Neville intended to fight.
He was going to fight to keep Draco, fight to remove all the remaining walls between them and if he-who–must-not-be-named…Voldemort, damn it!...was going to stand in the way, he felt truly sorry for the dark lord!
The Hogwarts express took them all more or less in one piece to London. Draco had a horrible incident on the train though, involving Potter and his creepy friends. The Gryffindor Scarface Hero had been taunting him about Lucius and even though Draco would have delighted in taunting his father along with them, there were still hard principles about pride and family tradition in his veins. Trying to launch an attack against Potter had proven to be a fatal mistake, though. Sneaking up behind him with Crabbe and Goyle only had them outnumbered within seconds and turned into sluglike creatures in school uniforms. Fortunately, the mudblood Hermione had taken pity upon them and given them back their original shapes. But Draco still found it hard having to explain to his mother why his robes were all slimy and moist.
Neville had been there too and Draco struggled hard with the thought of being humiliated in front of this particular person. But as the train slided into place at platform 9 ¾, Neville walked past Draco, touching his hand in a reassuring gesture and flashing a warm gaze at him meaning that everything was all right.
Narcissa was waiting at the station as he arrived, her moonbright hair in a neat braid down her back. She stood rigid and proud like a queen, ignoring all the whispering and pointing around her. Her husband's imprisonment may have caused a major setback for the Malfoy family's reputation, but Narcissa seemed set on not allowing Lucius to stain her own name with even one more spot.
As Draco approached her, she held out her arms with a beautiful smile, like a royalty welcoming an important guest to her kingdom.
Draco embraced her with utter relief.
"My dear son." She whispered, before frowning and eyening his robes. "What on earth…"
"Oh, it's nothing mother!" Draco tried with his most charming smile.
"Nonsense! What have you been doing, Draco?" She eyed his robes with dismay, but Draco only shrugged and kept smiling.
Finally, Narcissa sighed and changed the subject, obviously regrouping for later enquiries about the events on the train.
"You need to change clothes quickly once we're home." She said as they walked through the crowds in the station.
Draco was listening with half an ear, glancing at the crowd where Neville stood. Several freaky-looking strangers were there to pick him up and Potter stood with them a while too before disappearing into the muggle world.
Neville's curls seemed to catch fire in the sunlight, sparkling in copper-like threads and for an instant he turned to Draco and smiled, giving him a longing glance that resulted in a twitch in Draco's pants.
"…then we will arrive around six o clock. DRACO?"
Draco shot his gaze back to meet his mother's impatient expression.
"I'm sorry mother. Where are we going tonight?"
"Really, Draco! I just told you. The Dark lord wishes to train you for your father's position, since the massive arrests upon his followers will cripple the cause somewhat. Although, I doubt that they will be held in Azkaban for long, judging by the Dementors choices to…what's the matter?"
Draco had slowed his steps as a chill started to spread from his stomach into every vein in his body. He wasn't even aware that he had stopped walking.
"Draco, you're acting very strange."
With greater difficulty than Narcissa would ever know, Draco got hold of himself and continued to walk with his face in a practical mask of arrogance and boredom, to match his mother.
"Oh." He said, his voice levelling with his formality perfectly.
Narcissa continued to fill him in, having a practical silencing spell around them. Only minutes later, it was plain that Lucius was already appealing in court with a good chance of winning and that Draco would need to spend the summer mostly away from home, training with experienced death eaters.
The war was on their doorstep and all the way back to Wiltshire, Draco was occupied with dreading the consequences this would have for him and Neville.