ok, just want to let you know that a smut scene comes into this chapter.

and this takes place some time after the first half.

enjoy!

Wednesday, 25 January, 2006. 11:16 pm.

"If I do something, will you promise not to be mad?"

Neville cocked an eyebrow at his friend, intrigued to say the least at the grim expression on Trevor's face.

They'd realized fairly early on that the teen was still aging, steadily growing older until he'd finally caught up with the other's age. Neither one had a plausible reason as to why this happened, but it did, and so they took it into stride. It had been several months since that first occurrence, and these visits were happening fairly regularly now.

"I doubt I could stay mad at you for very long, regardless of what you do." Nev stated honestly, puzzled when his friend's melancholy expression only deepened.

"You say that now, but…."

There was a pause, and then Trevor sighed in defeat; reaching out, he slid the point of his finger against the dry lower lip of the boy sitting very close to him. Nev's eyes widened, too shocked to protest much as he saw fluttered-shut eyelids staring back at him…just before warmth descended against his mouth. When those lips pulled away from his a few seconds later, they didn't go very far, hovering as they parted to allow a slip of air to be drawn in.

"Don't be angry when I say that I love you."

Neville felt these words almost as much as he heard them, felt the waver in their owner's voice. And the warmth from that other boy pulled away, cheeks dully red as his gaze lowered downwards with shame.

"I know that I am nothing, not even a real person…hell, you created me and all, but…I love you Neville. I love you."

The teen was in utter shock; never had someone kissed him before. Never had someone told him such an honest emotion, in spite of their fears and insecurities that he wouldn't return it. And did he return it? Did he love Trevor…the way the boy wanted him to?

The two boys spent several long moments in utter silence, Trevor grappling with his mortification and heartbreak, and Nev…trying to sort out if it would hurt him more to admit that his love wasn't returned, or if Neville were to say that it was and then later changed his mind. Because right now…right now, all he really wanted was for Trevor to be with him forever. His best friend, his mate…always there. What if they discovered that their love is the wrong sort for lovers? Neville was afraid that Trevor would go away for good this time, and he'd have lost him.

The most important person in his entire life.

It was that final thought that seemed to strike something within the teen, that made him reach out to touch his shoulder as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his friend's burning cheek.

"Stay with me, always."

Before there could really be any sort of preparation for the other's reaction, Trevor had thrown his entire weight against him, tumbling them both off of the bed and onto the floor in a severely jarring manner. Neville wheezed as his lungs failed to properly work, heard his soft groan before he was leaning his face over Nev's field of vision. And once he could breathe again, he began to giggle, reaching up and looping his arms about Trevor's neck, loving the silly smile he got from the affection.

--- --- --- (more time passes)

Not many people understood Neville's gradual change; not many even noticed that he smiled a lot more than he ever had, that he disappeared into his thoughts rather often, his eyes bright and face serene. But they sure as hell noticed the day he suddenly appeared with a red blotch on his neck…looking suspiciously like what is termed a 'love mark', or hickey.

And let's just say that the small roughly circular patch caused a wave of hissed and increasingly outrageous gossip to fly. Talk that Neville had found himself a secret lover; someone most likely younger than the boy was himself. Probably a seemingly cherubic young girl in the fourth or fifth years, probably a girl that was considered sweet and too nice for her own good. Someone overlooked as being anything more than a book worm at best, a complete nobody. But never did anyone stop to think that maybe the person who'd given it to him was a boy…mischievous and light-hearted…and totally devoted to the boy he loved.

--- --- ---

"That mark stayed, just like you thought it would."

The two were lying curled up together on that bed, familiarly wrapped around the other's warm body, their lips mildly plump from the bout of tranquil kisses that had tapered off not too long before.

"Mm…told you."

Neville grinned at this sleepy reply, moving his fingers so they continually worked against the soft cotton of the other's shirt.

"You said it might." He reprimanded, and was treated with the body against his side rolling over, covering his chest and most of his upper thighs as Trevor stared down at him, those uniquely brown eyes laughing.

"Close enough." He stated, his lips pulling apart to show his teeth as he grinned, loving how Neville never refused to lay this way, never refused his kisses and ever-increasingly needy touching. As if Nevvie might need them just as much. And maybe he did, because when their lips again touched, and parted, and tongues tasted…it was Neville who ached for more, pressing his mouth urgently against his best friend's in hopes of securing this desire.

It was Neville whose body strained and arched from a searing heat growing deep in his belly, taking root and spreading into his groin with enough force to cause even his willing lover to give a startled gasp.

Trevor's face pulled back, eyes wide even as his lips retained a glossy shine, and he stared down at Neville's turned face, the boy's eyes scrunched shut with both his need and embarrassment for reacting so strongly. And in a giddy experiment, he ran his fingertips down Nev's ribcage, ecstatic at the shuddering moan that followed the action.

A few more airy and provocative touches later, and he'd reduced the teen into a tightly wound trip wire. One wrong move and Neville was gone.

"Nevvie…do you want this…truly want this? With me?"

Nev's eyes fluttered at the question, only one thought surfacing for a moment…and that being, 'YES.' But then his brain did a reboot, and his eyes opened, once he finally understood the real meaning behind the words. And the worried brown eyes that met his own said everything. All Trevor's insecurities were right there, despite the odd mask that his eyes seemed to possess.

He was worried about what this could mean between them…that it would be…disastrous. He was saying that he refused to partake in such an act if Neville's heart wasn't part of it…if his love wasn't returned.

And there was just a beat of pause before Neville closed the distance between them with a gentle kiss, saying that which he was unable to put into words at that moment. This time there was no hesitation as the urgency of their lips grew, as fingers gave into that unspoken freedom of unwarranted touch, the sort of touch of only those willing to give everything they had to another. Complete trust and familiarity.

But they were still teenage boys, and far more quickly than was really necessary, the two had their clothes skewed and more skin bared than was ever covered in the first place.

Despite the urgency, they still found time for a bit of humor, as Trevor nosed his way into the pit of Nev's underarm, causing the boy to laugh and cry, "Oi, I stink!"

Which was met with a sly grin before Neville got his own share of sweaty armpit, both collapsing into giggles when a choking moan of despair met the action.

It was this that cut through the seriousness of the situation, giggles and laughter rampant through their kisses and fumbling about, a veil dropping over their eyes and minds, until there was only the next touch, the next kiss, always needing so much more. Until the levity abruptly melted away, leaving two panting boys with steadily leaking erections, one completely naked…while Trevor still wore his open pajama shirt…it was hanging off his shoulders and had slipped down one arm, but he was still technically wearing it.

And it really began with a searing kiss, warm and pliable; tongues flickered into that tiniest gap between them, meeting the air before delving deeper as their passions flared up and then simmered down below the surface again…always there, threatening to bubble up. Neither was willing to entertain the notion that they had no clue how to go about fulfilling their base desires; they sort of rationalized that they'd cross that bridge when it really came to the nitty-gritty, so to speak.

And it was exactly this stupidly naïve notion that caused their passions to almost extinguish at the first cry of pain that involuntarily ground from Neville's throat. But it was his fingers curling up in the loose shirt that was still around the other boy's back and shoulders that halted the startled withdrawal…letting both of their bodies get used to relying on pure instinct to get through.

And after a bit of minute trial and error…which brought more than a few salty tears of pain to Nev's eyes…something seemed to work right, because it wasn't too long before that easy rhythm finally took hold.

And this was something that nobody had ever told him, how very…real the whole act is. The pain, the intense pleasure. Feeling sweat begin to collect on his forehead, pooling against his shoulders and belly, collecting in his naval even as droplets fell from his lover's nose onto his own. And normally, all this sweat and pain and ache would gross him out, put him off the entire bit…but this was different. Not just the pleasure…which was nearing the point of pure agony as it sizzled through his veins and nerves and bones…but this was true.

There was no faking this, no faking the way Trevor's eyes caught his every time he flicked his own upwards, no faking the way the two of them moved with an unspoken urgency.

There was no faking the way his lover's name jerked from his throat in an anguished groan when that precarious line had been crossed by one sharp thrust too many, no faking when he threw his head back and fought back a hoarse yell of surprised exaltation from having reached that peak. Really, he had no reason for his surprise, but he felt it all the same, whimpering softly when Trevor continued for just a few moment's more before he'd tensed up and shuddered, the teen's mouth gaping open and then grinding shut again.

A few groans, sighs, and a haggard, "Ow, ow, ow," later, and the two bodies were separate once again, lying haphazardly across the dirty bedclothes and not really touching that much. Just the spark of warmth from the body lying just at their side, as they were too hot for anything more as they attempted to settle down.

And after a while, Neville was relaxed enough to quietly state, "I love you, Trev."

A soft laugh, and the boy replied, "Tell me that again when you're in the W.C. screaming bloody murder at the pain in yer bum." This drew a full-out laugh from him, although he was already experiencing what could only be termed as agony in the battered region of his backside.

But then again…there was always the thought of giving it back in full…next time.

--- --- ---

"Come on, mate…if you stay in bed, you'll be sent to Pomfrey."

Neville couldn't really tell which boy was talking to him, as he had burrowed so far down into his covers that sound was distorted; his eyes clenched shut as every move just brought more pain.

"Nev…? …Mate?"

He mumbled a rough expletive, but was then speaking up for the first time, his voice hoarse, "Tell 'er I fell yesterday, and my back aches me. It kept me up all night."

"Um…er, right. Nobody knew…um…hope you feel better, then." With that, Seamus finally left him alone, slipping from the empty room and heading down to the common room.

And Neville went back to sleep.

--- --- ---

"'E said he fell down…but he told Ron 'e just felt a bit under the weather."

"Well, there's the bit of truth to both statements…if I fell 'ard enough, I'd be feeling right unpleasant too."

"But it's not like him to act that way after just a fall…did he ever go to Pomfrey?"

"Hm…I don't know. Anyway, if he's like that tomorrow, we'll get him to go…."

--- --- ---

"Why can't we ever leave this room?"

About a month had passed since the first nightly tryst, but it was followed by many more, that can be certain. Not every night, mind, as is the case with this one. Instead, they were just talking, and it was Trevor that asked the question that had been vaguely bothering the both of them since the very beginning. They'd tried to exit that room once before, and had been violently thrown back into their true forms as soon as the door cracked open; Neville shivered to remember the panic and fear he'd felt when he'd jerked back into his body at Hogwarts.

"I don't know…maybe whatever magic this is…it only goes so far."

Trevor bit his lip at Nev's statement, before hesitantly voicing the theory that he'd been slowly developing. "Neville…I think it's your magic."

The boy gaped, his eyes wide before he snorted in derision. "Mine? What magic do I have that could be this strong? You've seen me in class…."

"Have you noticed when I'm near, you're better?" Trevor's voice was soft, but was firming with certainty, sure that he was onto something important. Especially when he saw his lover's pale face, saw the tiny flush that arose; a telltale sign that Neville had noticed.

"You make me relax." Was the stubborn reason, but the other boy gently shook his head.

"No. Neville…I think…you did create me, all those years ago. When you were a boy…you used your magic to make me…so in theory…I am your magic. That's why you're stronger when I'm near."

Neville's hand slipped up to his mouth, teeth beginning to gnaw against his knuckles. "But…."

"No. I can feel it…in here…that I'm right." Trevor's hand went to his temple, demonstrating the odd pull he sometimes felt. Maybe this is why they felt such a strong pull to be together…maybe what they felt wasn't really love at all.

This thought brought tears to Neville's eyes, and he angrily wiped them away as he shook his head.

"No. No, Trevor…that's not how it is at all. I love you…I love you. Never did I create you from myself…how stupid would it be to fall in love with myself?"

"Do you love me…or is it just…."

Neville's hands reached out and cupped the boy's face, his thumbs gently firm. "I love you, Trevor. Even if I did create you…I love you. I'd rather remain unmagical than ever be without you."

Seeing Trevor's tears, he pulled the boy in closer to him, letting him cry as they tightly embraced, Neville's cheek pressed against the other's neck.

--- --- --- (Christmas holidays)

"Stupid toad lover, what a pansy."

Neville didn't hear the words; on his knees upon the floor of the train compartment, numbly scooping the broken body of Trevor off the now-bloody carpet. He was too shocked to cry at knowing that Trevor was dead, too shocked to feel anything. Too shocked to see how it was Ron who attacked the cretin cruel enough to kill the boy's pet, let alone the fact that nobody knew how important the toad really was to the boy.

It was Hermione that noticed the strange sight of a jerk passing through Neville's body, before his eyes rolled up and he pitched to the side, abruptly unconscious.

--- --- ---

"I've never seen someone turn gray like that before…I thought he was dead at first…." Hermione was shaken, even after Neville had come to a minute or two afterwards; shaken by how his eyes seemed to be blank, how he didn't even look at Trevor again.

Even now, he was seated across from them, head leaning against the chilly window as he stared out; they were speaking in whispers, but for all the reaction he was providing, they could have talked in normal tones.

"I know he doted on Trevor, but really…he was just a toad…."

"Ron, you freaked when you thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers." Harry pointed out impatiently, and the redhead blushed before sneaking another look at Neville.

"Okay, point taken…but still…he doesn't look normal." All three of them looked at him again, silently agreeing.

No, he did not look normal, not at all.

--- --- ---

Neville refused to go into his room, knowing that the very sight would bring back the pain he'd buried, the pain he was desperately suppressing. And seeing that room would only make him lose control, lose whatever grip he was maintaining at the moment. Thus…he stayed away. If anyone noticed his aversion to his own bedroom during that first week of the Christmas hols, they chose not to mention it.

Not even when he was discovered to be sleeping in one of the guest rooms, wearing the same outfit he'd worn since his arrival; his trunks had been placed in his room, and thus he had no spare to change into. And he didn't wake as strong arms lifted him up, as he was cradled and gently carried to his bedroom, left to sleep in his own bed unawares. Nor did he notice when gradual warmth grew at his side, steady as a leaking faucet…until heat enveloped him and the person to whom the arm curling over his stomach belonged.

--- --- ---

It was the lack of that warmth that awoke him in the waxing light of early morning, a sudden depth of cold at his back, causing his eyes to sleepily open. For a moment, he was disoriented, rubbing his eye before turning over onto his back, eyes blearily looking up at the familiar ceiling. And with it came a dash of those memories he'd wanted to forget, but the feelings were the same as all the other mornings; he'd been unable to get rid of those, try as he might. Just being in this room made him feel…as if he wasn't alone, and it made his heart break, to know that he was.

He needed to leave….

It was this thought that made him sit upright, eyes shuttered as they tried so very hard not to let loose of his tears, to not give into the flurry of pain and anguish fluttering about underneath his skin.

Until he saw the naked figure seated upon their knees…the figure that sat there staring at the closed bedroom door, their arms crossed and tightly hugging their torso. That familiar dark blonde hair, the familiar curved spine.

"Trevor…." Neville was sure that he'd gone officially insane, seeing things.

"Is it real? If I open that door, does it go back to the way it was before?" That low voice, abruptly recognizable even though it was full of terror and uncertainty…and deep pain.

And, moving slowly, in case the hallucination were to fade away, Neville removed the blankets from his legs and gingerly left the bed, his steps slow and measured as he walked over to the trembling figure. He just as slowly sank down to his knees, his eyes fixed upon Trevor, in case he really was masochistically insane, his own mind wishing to kill him too.

"I remember…it really hurt…and then I sort of…was gone. And I was miserable. Then I just…woke up, and for a moment, I thought…is any of this real? Will it be like it was before? Didn't I die?"

Neville finally chanced reaching out and touching him, bursting into tears when he found firm resistance to his fingers, when Trevor turned into his touch and launched himself at Nevvie.

"You were broken…." Neville sobbed, unconsciously rocking their bodies back and forth. And they didn't understand how it was that Trevor was here, but they reveled in it, tightly embracing in case it all just up and faded without warning.

--- --- ---

"No, what if I disappear?"

Trevor was dressed in one of Neville's outfits, and had pressured his lover to change as well.

"I can't stay in my bedroom for the rest of my life." Neville said softly, rubbing the boy's arm with a warm hand.

"I…." He trailed off when his lover gently kissed him, melting him into being unable to refuse, something that Neville had always managed to bring out in him.

The bloody cheater.

But when they parted, he sighed and took the hand offered him, fear gripping his gut when Neville reached out and turned the doorknob.

--- --- --- (Passage of time)

"Neville…who was that boy with you at the station?"

A warm smile curled over his face, and he admitted, "My fiancé."

Equal looks of utter shock went over everyone's faces that were present to hear this; it was Ron who blurted out, "Fiancé?"

"We plan to get married when I finish school, yes."

"Since when?" Again, Neville beamed, serene and happier than he'd ever been.

"We discussed it with my Gram over the holidays."

That was true; that discussion had been the most stressful in his life…but she'd taken the entire tale pretty well, and had been the one to propose the current situation. A fiancé is allowed to visit several times a month on weekends…and as Trevor couldn't perform magic on his own, there was no chance of him getting into Hogwarts.

The thought of those visits allowed Neville to feel at peace, despite the ache he did feel at leaving Trevor behind. And they could always write.

"Is he a muggle?" Hermione asked curiously, and got the demure answer of, "Squib. Can't perform a lick of magic."

It was Ron that lowly muttered, "Figures."

But if Neville heard him, he deigned not to pay any attention. No, as far as he was concerned, he knew he was never going to be lonely ever again.

And that was all the cause to be content.

A/N: well, that's it! i thought it cute, and the idea really out there. and what's else...i've realized that i have no idea what to name this thing! O.o so, i'll think of one, and post it ASAP. hope you enjoyed this!