Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: I seem to be updating a lot right now. Don't get too used to it, though. I'll try to keep updating, but I can't promise anything.

This isn't exactly what I promised in the end of the last chapter, but I hope you like it anyway.

Illusions

Snakes Stink

"And what do we do now, then?" asked Draco, an eyebrow raised, as he watched Neville dropping some powdered beetles into the potion. "You've read the instructions. You should know what to do next."

"Now, we stir it twice clockwise and once anticlockwise," while speaking, the Gryffindor did exactly this, "and then we let it simmer untouched for exactly forty-seven minutes."

"That's right." Adjusting the magical timer on the table to show them the right time to continue their work, Draco then leant back in his chair. "Ah, well. I think it's well about the time to feed Stinky." He reached his hand into his bag, drawing out the tiny snake. Stinky wrapped itself affectionately around his wrist.

"He's cute," Neville commented in slight amusement. "It's a pity that he smells so bad."

"Exactly," Draco sighed. "That's why I don't like taking him to classes -- nobody dares to say anything, of course, but I know that they think the smell's coming from me. I don't know what exactly I've done to Severus to make him hate me so," he grumbled. "But I can't really keep him in the dormitories all the time, either -- Merlin knows what he'd do there." Again reaching into his bag, he then brought out a bottle of milk and a small package containing some lettuce. Pouring the milk into a bowl and shredding the lettuce, mixing it with the liquid, he then placed the bowl on the table and Stinky in front of it. "Now, eat, you menace."

"Oh, stop grumbling," Neville said with a grin. "You know you don't hate Stinky, nor do you hate Severus."

"Care to bet?" snapped Draco. Then, however, he sighed. "Sadly, you're right," he admitted. "True, the snake is cute in a way -- although if you ever tell anybody that I said it, you're dead," he added, his casual tone never changing. "And it's nice to have someone who likes me unconditionally. And as for Severus, well... So, he's annoying, bossy, and at times downright cruel. He enjoys torturing his students and colleagues alike and seems to take great delight in spoiling what little fun anybody else might have in his presence. He's probably never taken into account anybody else's feelings if doing so would have forced him to change his mind. But despite all that, he is still my Godfather, and I... well, I non-hate him."

"I really don't think that's a word," Neville mentioned, a grin still on his face. "But then again, it isn't like you could ever admit that you actually like someone, is it? Your reputation would be ruined." Then he added, with a look of perfect innocence, "Not that I would start any rumours or anything..."

With an annoyed sigh, Draco rolled his eyes. "I really did prefer your frightened self," he muttered angrily. "Or... maybe not. Okay, though, you win. If it will stop you from commenting on it, I'll admit that somehow, deep down, I do like Severus... to some extent."

"Couldn't you really fit 'a little' or perhaps 'barely' somewhere in there?" asked the other boy, clearly amused. "Honestly, Draco. Is it really such a bad thing to admit that you like someone?"

"Yes, it is," the blond replied without hesitation. "Malfoys don't like other people. They tolerate them."

"Then why do you say 'they' instead of 'we'?" asked Neville in perfect innocence. "Or don't you count yourself a Malfoy? Why not? And if you're not a Malfoy, why can't you like someone?"

"Well, truth be told, I don't want to be a Malfoy," grumbled Draco. "At least not the kind of Malfoy my father and about everybody else seems to see as the only possibility. I want to be my own kind of Malfoy."

"Somebody who likes boys, potions, and acting like he owns the world?" the Gryffindor asked. "Hm. I'm not entirely sure if the world is ready to face such a thing."

"It already has," remarked the blond. "Most of the world just isn't aware of that."

"Meaning, the whole world aside from me isn't aware of that," chuckled Neville. "It's like that, isn't it?"

"Well... pretty much," admitted Draco. "Although I do think that Severus has some suspicions about my orientation... and father probably knows that I share his interests, even though he doesn't want me to act on my feelings in any way. Not before I have a Pureblood heir to continue the line, at least."

"Well, you could always try to collect some evidence," Neville suggested. "If you had proofs that he has had male lovers, you could blackmail him. No matter how eager he is to protect the name of Malfoy, I'm sure he would rather have his own public image stay untarnished than yours."

Draco watched the Gryffindor for a moment. Then, he grinned. "Are you sure you are in the right House?" he asked with a hint of teasing in his voice. "Since, just in case you didn't know, blackmailing is definitely a Slytherin technique."

"Do I seem like a Gryffindor?" asked Neville. "Everybody in this school thinks that I'm in the wrong House. Well, at least those do who don't think I should be kicked out of the school altogether. You're probably the first one to think I would fit in Slytherin, though," he then added.

"Why ever would anybody think you don't belong into the school? Sure, you may not be the best student in the class, but you are a wizard nevertheless. And besides, I'm sure you could do better than you currently do. Your grades aren't that incredible, but they are better than your average class performance."

"Why, thank you," muttered Neville dryly. "It's nice to know you have such confidence in my skills." Then, he sighed. "With a childhood like mine, you learn not to draw any attention to yourself," he said. "Ever since I can remember all my relatives have been telling me what great heroes my parents were -- and in the next sentence they mention that it was their heroic characters that got them attacked."

Draco nodded slowly. No, that definitely didn't really encourage heroic behaviour. "How old were you when they were... attacked?" he asked carefully.

"I was one," replied Neville, looking at their potion as if to avoid looking at his companion. "And I saw the whole thing."

That definitely silenced Draco. Finally, after a long silence, he said simply, "Shit."

"To be honest, I don't remember any of it," Neville said. "I was Obliviated. Professor Flitwick once said it might be the reason I'm so absentminded." He frowned as he still looked down at their -- flawless, naturally -- potion. "Sometimes I wish I remembered. Surely the damage to my mind couldn't be any worse that what the Obliviate has done."

Again, Draco was quiet. Finally he said, "You are truly a Gryffindor, no matter what everybody says. If I was in your position, I could never wish to remember such a thing." On a moment of unusual courage, he set a hand on the other boy's arm in an awkward gesture of support. He wasn't used to this kind of thing. Nobody had ever expressed their feelings to him in physical ways such as gestures, expressions, or hugs, and thus he wasn't exactly sure how to act. His Father always made sure not to reveal any emotions in public, and he suspected his mother had no emotions, at least none concerning him.

Neville didn't flinch away, however, like he'd half expected the Gryffindor to do. Instead, he quietly accepted the gesture.

Draco didn't know what to say. Thus, he said nothing.

"Weasley actually asked her out?" asked Draco disbelievingly. "Unbelievable. I was sure it'd take him at least until our graduation to finally realize it."

"In fact, I think it was Hermione who asked," Neville replied, grinning. "Apparently she got tired of waiting. Why are you so upset about it, anyway?" he then asked curiously. "I didn't know you were so interested in their love life."

"Well, what do you think?" Draco huffed. "I just lost a Galleon!"

Now, Neville blinked in surprise. "You mean you were betting on it?" he asked.

"You mean you weren't?" Draco asked. "Half the school has been betting on when they are going to get together. I'd marked the last week of school. Do you really mean you didn't know?"

"No, I didn't." Neville shook his head. "Maybe nobody dared to tell me in case I told them."

"Well, would you have told?" asked Draco, a hint of mischief entering his voice. As Neville shook his head, he grinned. "Thought so. There's at least that much Slytherin in you."

"You wish." Neville smiled, although he felt odd at the same time. He couldn't remember when he'd been this open even around his friends. Most of the time he was too shy to open his mouth. With Draco, however, he nowadays managed to forget his shyness. Of course, the first tutoring lessons had been a nightmare, but nowadays, they talked pretty freely.

"It's nice to see them finally together, though," Neville commented after a moment of thinking. "They obviously belong together. I hope I'll find somebody one day, too."

"What, so you're still looking for Miss Right?" the Slytherin asked with a smirk.

Neville swallowed. The time for the truth, it seemed. Gathering all his Gryffindor courage, he congratulated himself on not letting his voice waver as he said, "Actually, I'd prefer Mister Right."

About a thousand thoughts coursed through Draco's mind at that seemingly casual admission. So Neville did like boys after all! He did have some kind of a chance -- or, rather, he would have, had it not been for his father. As it was, however, he had about as much of a chance at getting together with Neville than if the Gryffindor had been a perfectly straight homophobe.

"Too bad I'm just Prince Charming, then," he said, forcing himself to smirk as he said this. Don't be serious, that was the thing. Never be serious when talking about affairs of the heart. That way, you won't get hurt.

He was so concentrated on his own thoughts that he didn't even notice the slight uneasiness behind Neville's chuckle.

Next chapter:

Something goes wrong. Or, rather, right, depending on how you view it.