My Hero

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any of these lovely little brats. I think you know this by now, but you know, lawsuits and all.

Note: Slash obviously. Sexual... implications, I guess. I flit around a little at the beginning, but I'm sure you'll catch on quickly. And the abuse is tackled a lot more in this chapter. Sorry if you don't like that, but that's where this is going. Anyway, you may begin?

I guess it all began five years ago, in second year. Here I was, a twelve-year-old boy, increasingly becoming a self-perceivedly-hormonally-challenged youth. The thing being- I didn't like girls. Like, at all.

Mostly this didn't bother me; I just acquitted it as some rare testosterone-release malfunction, and nothing... more severe. Unfortunately, I couldn't be blind forever, and along came my third year.

Four years ago, I began to notice things. In the plain- I began to notice boys. A lot.

It frightened me.

I went to Hermione with my findings fourth year. After dwelling on and fighting with and denying the prospect for two years. She somehow understood; she somehow didn't care.

Sure, I felt a little better, but so incredibly alone.

Draco's hand slipped behind my neck and pulled forward. It was a motion I would imitate in the future, but I wasn't ready for it now. I flinched, eyes flicking briefly to stare at him in disgust before ducking beneath the arm and leaning away. His steel eyes glared holes in me, but I refused to meet them. He understood my pain but had since buried his.

Harry had given up on me. That's how it ended. No amount of heroics on mine or anyone else's part; just Harry realizing he could do better than Neville. Miserable, ordinary Neville.

I was still scared to be with anyone else after. Harry's haughty gaze, his meaningful stride. His deadly green eyes. I'd met a boy at a pub some years after, with eyes that green. His name was Tom, so he said. I didn't give him a minute before I was out the door and running across the street to flag down a car.

Everything was magnified. A word probed until it became a plethora of unmatched, parallel beings. A touch was fire. A kiss was death.

Two nights after I had first talked to Draco, or rather, he had talked to me, Seamus found his way onto my bed. Harry was out for the night; he and Ron and an only halfheartedly-unwilling Hermione had tromped into the forest to help Hagrid with something or other. Harry had kissed me and told me to stay put. And I honestly, very much did.

"Neville,' Seamus grinned, plopping with a soft 'clush' onto my feather comforter.

I gave him my best 'no games,' look, knowing perfectly well how spectacularly that would work on Seamus. He responded by loping an arm around me and, all in one great motion, pulling me onto his lap. I groaned.

"Neville, my boy, how is life treating yeh? How's the girlfriend?"

Climbing from beneath Seamus' arm, I folded my arms and stared anywhere but at him.

"Harry's not a girl, Seamus, you know that."

"Jesus, boy, have you gotten a look at him? Oh- you have, haven't you? Because," Seamus' face lit up as he saw mine began to redden, "if you haven't, I'll tell you, that cock's pretty sm-"

"Shut up, Seamus. That's not funny at all."

"Ha ha, just playing with you."

I tried to scoot back, put a little distance between us, but Seamus grabbed hold of the back of my head and pulled me around so I was against his chest, looking into his face. He grinned maliciously.

"Oh Neville, such a pretty little boy. I'm sure Harry must have so much fun-" Seamus pulled my face close to his, resisting my struggling, "shagging you," he said, lolling his tongue at me and thumping against the bed suggestively.

"Don't, Seamus," I mumbled helplessly.

Seamus cackled and pulled me into a rough hug.

The neck of my shirt fell over one shoulder, revealing a number of bruises and bites. Seamus moved very slowely, trace-like, in folding back cloth and pulling the remainder of my arm out of the sleeve. A line of bruises and cuts all the way down slowly danced into sight. Seamus' voice caught in his throat and his entire disposition changed.

"Neville, what are," looking up, "these from?"

I pulled my sleeve back and freed myself from his clutches, but it was too late.

"It wasn't... . Not what you're thinking of, Seam-"

Seamus gave me an incredulous look.

"Look lad, all I was doing was in light play- I didn't, you know, mean anything by it... but if someone else is..."

"No! I mean..."

The boy's eyes narrowed as he mentally put the pieces together.

"Neville- oh my god, never, never let him do this to you again. I can't believe I..."

Seamus in turn gulped and bit his tongue. He suddenly pulled me into a protective hug, quite unlike the mock-lovegrip of earlier. I sighed and let him.

"Neville, if this happens again... and I can see it's been happening a while, tell me, for god's sake. But... Neville?"

I looked into his pale face attentively. The seriousness of his expression clashed delightfully with the freckles splattered across his nose, and I let my gaze drift to his eyes.

"Don't let it happen again, okay?"

I looked, absorbed in his blue eyes, and nodded submissively.