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Don't Mess With Possessions
Neville ran to the fat lady, almost out of breath.
He had just had sex with Draco Malfoy, bathed with him, and slept with him.
It was about four in the morning, and soon the early birds would wake up.
Breakfast was served at six.
Neville's heart was beating insanely; he couldn't believe what had just happened to him.
Draco Malfoy.
His unedifying love!
But.......Draco was a Death Eater....
Neville slowed down his speed to a stop, and the wave of realization crashed against him, making him slightly nauseous.
What if....Draco was just messing with him? What if all Draco had wanted was a quick fuck?
Neville's eyes lowered and dismay.
Draco is a Death Eater. A servant of Voldemort. A slave. He sold his soul for power.
People just the same had ruined his parents; ruined his life. Death Eaters had destroyed Neville; crumbled his living existence.
Death Eaters made him a loner; made him weaker; made him the outcast in society.
And Draco Malfoy.....what if he just turned his back on Neville and ruined Neville's life more?
Neville had always tried to live the happy life. He smiled and bared it. Dealt with the issues.
He promised he would never let go of the world, even if he let go of everything else.
But Neville was up to his eyes with all of it. He was suffocating underneath it. But every second he found those little pockets of hope, keeping him from slitting his wrists.
So if Draco...or anyone...did anything more to Neville, Neville would officially shatter to rock bottom.
Now Neville was full of regret.
How could he do this? He's grandma, his one and only fit guardian had just said asta lavista and is right now in wizard heaven, leaving him all alone.
She was gone and she wouldn't come back.
Shouldn't Neville be bawling his eyes out?
Neville has no reason to live anymore! He's practically d. e. a. d
So he goes and gets fucked by a Death Eater, one who had damned his family strait to the fiery cold pits of fucking hell!
Neville felt so shameful he couldn't bring himself to lift his head. He stared at the floor, eyes wide, all of his mistakes just washing over him.
How could Neville be...... spiteful?
Neville felt like crying now.
He was such a whore...a slut...
He didn't deserve to live.
He didn't deserve to wear his parents name.
Neville just wanted to crawl up in a ball and die.
He wanted to get slapped over and over again and told how stupid and disgraceful he was.
And as Neville thought those thoughts, he couldn't help but feel disgusting with himself.
His stomach twisted with sickening feelings, and he wanted to throw up—but luckily didn't.
Why didn't Neville want so much attention? What was this feeling inside Neville that wanted to actually be......known?
No.....loved....
Neville had never been a person to want to have attention. Sure he liked the sparks of it when it rarely came around, but he was fine as he was.
At least he wasn't loud and obnoxious and nerdy.
Those kids get scent to the nurses office for months.
But now Neville was changing. In his fifth year, Neville was feeling things he didn't want to feel.
Was it puberty?
Hormones?
Hormones, Neville thought with bitter taste.
How evil those vibrations were. They made Neville want to scream.
They were showing sides of Neville that Neville didn't even know about. Or more, sides Neville didn't quite like.
Neville blinked slowly, and then began walking up the stairs and halls again.
It was amazing how easily you could ruin a perfect feeling of joy with just thoughts.
Now, Neville felt simply depressed.
Neville came to the fat lady.
She was snoring. Loudly.
But most of the portraits were snoring. It rang through the halls; it was amazing how people didn't get awaked by this.
Neville could always hear them, and in the beginning of his first two years at hogwarts, he never got much sleep.
But Neville had thankfully found earplugs, and now he slept soundly through the night. Being a light sleeper though, he woke to the lightest feeling of something on the floor.
Anyway, Neville wondered how he should wake the Fat Lady without making her scream so much.
She often did that.
Neville stared at the Fat Lady for a while, watching her chest move up and down, and then sighed.
How could he disturb someone so peacefully enjoying their life....?
Neville took his finger and poked the Fat Lady's cheek.
The portrait lady gave many disgusting sounding snores and sniffs at it awoke. They were loud, and it made Neville cringe.
Then, the Fat Lady opened one eye blearily.
"Do you know what time it is?," she hissed.
"I know im so—"
"Im going to back to sleep," she growled, and she closed her eyes.
"No!," Neville screamed. Immediately, he clapped both hands over his mouth, blushing bright pink.
The Fat Lady irritably opened one eye. "Password?," she drawled.
"Troublesome," he whispered through parted fingers.
The Fat Lady sighed and then closed her eyes. "Good night."
"Wait—why!," Neville whisper screamed.
But the Fat Lady was already snoring.
Neville was about to break down right there and scream to the gods why they were treating him so.
But then, heaven shown upon his almost-cursed being.
With a creak, the door slowly opened.
There, revealed Harry Potter.
Harry's hair was messier then mess itself—like he had just woken up and stumbled to the door—almost tripping over the stairs.
He wasn't wearing a shirt; only his soft grey Lounge pants and same color boxers were visible.
Harry rubbed his eyes drearily. His wand was in the hand that had opened the door, stuck between the space dividing his thumb and index finger.
Harry yawned wide, his mouth opening and showing his white teeth like a cat would, and then snapped back shut.
"Is that you Neville?," he whispered, leaning back on one foot .
Neville nodded quickly. "Yes."
Harry stared at him for a while, running his eyes up and down Neville's body...as if checking the boy out. His eyes scanned hardest around Neville's chest plate and Neville's upper pant section—though Neville, of course, did not notice this.
Neville only notices Harry's eyes moving swiftly up and down him; Harry was most likely probably tying to see if Neville wasn't just a lying Slytherin or something.
Then, Harry smiled; his eyes seemed to brighten; now he was awake.
"Well stop standing out there like an idiot and get in here!," he whispered quickly, grinning wickedly.
Neville couldn't help but smile back. He walked in the Gryffindor Common room, and immediately, he shivered.
It wasn't cold; quite the rather. The fire was crackling and it was full on. The Common room was a perfect temperature; hot.
It was the realization of how cold it was outside that made Neville tremble as he switched to the different climate.
'It must've been cold in the dungeons too...,' Neville thought absently. But Draco had been there to warm him up.
A Death Eater.
Neville, now enveloped in shame, stood there, a few feet away from the fire, staring into it.
His mind flashed back to the feelings Malfoy had consumed him in; enclosed.
It made Neville tremble and shake, with some emotion he couldn't quite figure out.
The feelings of Draco's hands running up and down his thighs and stomach, caressing him with his large soft hands.
Cupping his crotch, rubbing it.....
Neville gasped, his body stiffening.
"Ha-harry....," he gasped.
Harry smirked against Neville's neck, kissing it delectably. He pressed his body firmly against Neville's.
Neville noticed the hardness pressing against his arse, and his breath hitched.
Harry squeezed Neville's crotch, messaging it. Harry rolled his hips against Neville, causing the teen to moan.
Harry was quite surprised to hear the slutty sounds. The way it had rolled off of Neville's tongue and into his ear—filled with lusty passion—the best passion anyone could ask for.
But Harry wasn't asking, he was taking.
And he definitely wanted to hear that sound again.
Harry's pushed Neville, who stumbled slightly and then caught himself on a wall—shoved between the meeting point of two. A corner.
Harry shoved his arms on each side of Neville's head, blocking him.
He leaned down to the teen, a sick smirk on his lips.
Neville starred back at him, eyes wide and brimming with tears.
He was afraid.
Harry smirked wider and kissed Neville's pink-tipped ears lightly, like a butterfly.
"I know your secret...," Harry whispered.
Neville's breath hitched.
"Everyone knows it. We know who you really are."
A noise squeaked out Neville's throat, making his eyes go wide with surprise.
Did he just...whimper to Harry Potter?
That noise flicked the aggressive side of Harry on like a light switch.
He attacked Neville's ear lobe, sucking on it harshly.
His bites were so hard it caused the skin to turn red with pain and tear. Harry sucked on it harder, loving the taste of Neville.
Neville made another mewl, and then his mouth was captured by Harry.
Harry was trying to stick his throat down Neville's mouth, but Neville refused to let his lips part for anyone but his lover.....for Draco.......
There was a sharp pain in Neville's gut, causing the boy to gasp.
Harry forced his tongue in, moving so sharply and quickly that it actually hurt.
His tongue was like a lion, while Neville's was like a sheep.
Harry's tongue lashed out at Neville's forcing Neville to almost choke.
Harry's tongue twisted with Neville's, dominating the sheep.
Harry kissed him hard, refusing to let the other breath.
Harry's hands stared running up and down Neville's sides, feeling him all over.
Neville didn't want this; he moaned into Harry's mouth with protest, but that didn't help—most likely made it worse.
Harry's hands finally broke into Neville's shirt, and they skidded across Neville's abdomen, as if they were inspecting.
Harry's finger pressed against Neville's abs, feeling for every curve. And just like in the news paper, Neville had all the correct muscles.
Neville's skin was baby soft against Harry's hand, and it had no such faulty on it.
Harry grip Neville tightly, rolling his hips against Neville's. forcing their erections to brush against each other with a force.
Neville moan as pleasure tingled inside him.
Once again, Neville was weak; powerless.
He was all too sensitive to fight back.
Harry had figured this; that's why he was loving it so much.
Neville tried to kiss back; did his best.
Harry enjoyed the effort, but he put Neville in place.
He showed the boy another round of lashed— like a whip on a tongue.
Neville needed to learn his place in bed, and that sure as hell wasn't on top.
Neville mewled against Harry, his eyelids lowering over his eyes.
Draco...he thought desperately. Please help me....!
Suddenly, Neville's shirt is getting ripped off the boys body; literally.
Harry ripped it into shreds as he didn't feel like leaving any part of Neville's sensitive body for something as docile as a shirt.
Neville groaned in protest, pressing weak hands against Harry's chest, trying to push him off.
Harry became angry as he departed from Neville's tender, now bruised and bleeding lips.
SMACK!
Harry's hands came across Neville's cheek with a force; it slapped against Neville's tone-ness, causing it to glow bright pink.
Tears swam over Neville's eyes.
Harry laughed; he loved the feeling of power now-a-days.
He started kissing ferociously down Neville's neck, taking in the beautiful fresh-soap scent and soft skin.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, just as he was about to kiss there, he saw something quite amazing.
He immediately leaned back, his eyes wide.
Right on his neck—the space that was between his shoulder and nape—was a bright red spot, about an inch-and-a-half wide and length.
"You whore...," he whispered. It was the only thing he could manage to do.
Neville stared at him in shock.
He had seen....Draco's mark....
"You're a whore...a whore.....a slutty bitch..."
Tears swam down Neville's cheeks as he listen to Harry talk like a mad person.
Suddenly, Harry's eyes connected with Neville, and Neville knew what was going to happen next.
Neville gasped in pain. He clutched his side, falling to the floor. He curled into a ball as Harry stuck him again and again with his foot.
"You're a whore you bitch! Bitch! Slut! Whore! Whore! Whore! Bitch!," he screamed, kicking Neville endlessly.
Neville curled into the tightest ball he could manage, trying to block out the pain that was being inflicted on him.
Love, he thought lastly, Hurts.
Neville slowly got up.
He held onto the chair arm for support, using all his upper body strength to pull up his weak body.
Harry had left a few minutes ago, leaving Neville alone to darkness.
'I deserved it,' Neville thought as he, almost immediately after standing, stumbled and caught himself on a wall only moment before falling flat on his face.
'I was going to let him do all those things to me...'
Neville squeezed one eye—his left—shut hard in pain as he tried to limp his was up the stairs.
He cradled his right arm; it was gushing out blood.
Harry had torn out allot of his skin, and many bruises were running along Neville's body.
Luckily, Neville had covered his face in his arms to keep any harm from happening there.
Bruises glossed over Neville's abs and arms; the spot where Draco had marked was cut up and bleeding.
Neville held onto the railing with all his might.
His hands were trembling, and even though it was warm, icy coldness licked his bones.
Neville stumbled into the boys bathroom.
It smelled of cinnamon and apples; they were apparently trying out a new air freshener.
The smell was more homey then what Slytherin's bathroom smelled like; Ice Mint.
Neville was suddenly now liking the Ice Mint more then the Apple Cinnamon.
Ice Mint felt like home; felt like Draco. His lover......hopefully.
No, Neville thought, his eyes lowering. He couldn't hope for the touch of Malfoy anymore.
He didn't deserve it.
Neville slowly walked over to the shower area and carefully turned the knob to a bath tub.
He set the temperature as high as it could go.
Steaming.
Neville sat on the side of the tub, waiting for the bath to fill.
He notices a trail of bloods foot prints was following him, and cursed.
He needs to either heal himself with a spell or go to madame Pomfrey.
Or....go see Draco.
Neville shook his head vigorously, which caused him to cry out in silent pain.
Neville sighed deeply.
Life...it hated him.
His family too.
But mostly him.
Neville didn't know what he did to make it hate him.
Neville was a good boy.
So why were all these bad things happening to him?
Did God really not want him to believe in him?
Neville's eyes narrowed.
He turned of the hot water, and paused.
His head was going foggy on him; woozy.
Then, it was like his main line disconnected from him.
"Shit...," he murmured.
There was a splash as he fell back into the too-hot water.
Dean hummed to himself as he felt a ray of sunshine hit his face.
He slowly got up, looking around his shared dorm.
Everyone was wrapped under their covers, sleeping.
Dean sighed and stood up, yawning.
He hopped against the floor for a while, trying to warm up the soles of his feet.
Damn how he hated cold floors....
Next Dead dropped to the floor in a split.
Dean happened to be flexible.
He took both arms and reach over to his left foot, grabbing the arch with his hands. He paused, breathing in and out of his nose.
Then he let out a tired sigh and switched to the other foot, stretching.
Soon, he felt mostly awake and stood up, shaking out his legs.
He walked out the dorm and down the hall to the bathrooms.
He yawned before opening the door.
A hot shower would be.......
Deans thoughts fell into a silence.
His eyes opened so wide they could've possibly fell out of their sockets, and his mouth almost touched the floor.
There in front of him, half consumed in water, lay Neville Longbottom.
His eyes were shut and his skin was pale as paper. He was covered in scratches and bruises.
He looked dead.
It took a while for a gasp to register in Dean's mouth.
Then, Dean found himself running back to the dorm.
He slammed the door open.
Many grunts sounded.
"SOMEONE GET HELP!," he screamed. "SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH NEVILLE!"
Many heads perked up to stare at him. They looked confused.
"What the bloody hell are you ranting about you git?," Ron said.
Dean gulped. He felt like he was going to faint.
He pointed towards the bathroom. "N-Neville!," he whispered.
The boys sighed in annoyance.
Ron was the first to get up. Harry was the last.
Ron followed dean, in irritated expression clear on his face.
Then, they were admitted to the boys room.
Ron had the same reaction as Dean. "Bloody hell....," he whispered, staring down at the badly abused teen.
Harry stayed in the back, almost glaring at Neville—though not showing it of course.
"I'll go get Miss. P," he offered, trying to sound like he actually cared about the slut...
"GO!," they yelled.
Harry rolled his eyes and quickly left.
Many girls were waking up due to the noise, and started coming out their dorms complaining.
They froze when they saw Neville.
Some even fainted.
Ron kneeled down and checked Neville's pulse.
It was barely detectable, but it was there.
His heart fluttered with happiness.
The boys ushered the girls out.
Neville was naked; only boys needed to see him.
Dean laid a towel down and Ron took Neville out and set the obviously abused boy on top.
He stared down at the teen for a while, and couldn't help but feel lust.
You could see strait through the bruises and cuts that Neville was drop dead beautiful.
He was so stupid not to notice it before.
Ron felt himself get hard and looked away.
He couldn't do it to Neville like this.
It would be so wrong...
Forcing himself to get a hold of himself, Ron grabbed a towel and laid it on top of Neville, covering his body.
And then, the door slammed open.
"GET OUT MY FUCKING WAY!," Draco screamed, pushing pass the Gryffindors.
Someone had hurt him.
His property.
Someone had (first of all) glanced at his property, (second of all) took interest in his property, (third of all) was stupid enough to touch his property, and (fourth of all) had the damn bloody nerve to abuse HIS DAMN PROPERTY
Who was it? It had to be a Gryffindor...
Oh bloody murder im going to kill them.....
Most of the Gryffindors shied away from Malfoy; it wasn't on there today-to-do-list to die with horrible pain.
Most were centered around the bathroom, but the door was closed.
Draco forced them apart and ripped open the door.
There stood Ronald and a few other boys, staring at Neville, who was covered with towels.
Oh god....
Ron looked up to Draco, and a look like fire appeared in his arms.
"DID YOU DO THIS TO HIM?!?!??!," Ron screamed at Draco, throwing a punch.
Draco's eyes narrowed, and he grabbed the Weasel by the wrist. "No i did not do thIS TO HIM! ONE OF YOU GRYFFINDORS DID IT! WHO WAS IT?! WAS IT YOU?!??!," he bellowed back to Ron.
They stood there glaring at each other.
But they could both see it in each others eyes.
Neither of them had done this damage to Neville.
Draco let go of Ron's hand and kneeled down to Neville, staring down at the boys beautiful face.
He took a chance a lifted the towel on top of him, only to bite his lip and quickly placed it back down.
Draco cupped Neville's cheek.
Oh Neville.......
Neville stirred, but then fell back into dreams. "Stop har...."
He didn't finished his sentence.
Suddenly, before Draco could do anything, he was getting pushed away.
He looked up to see madame Pomfrey.
Help, he said with half relief.
But then everything turned sour as Draco notices someone in the back of the room which was now full of many people.
This person had a mocking smirk on his face, and he stared down at Neville with lust mixed with hate.
He licked his lips, causing Draco to growl lowly.
The person noticed this, even though no one else did.
His eyes snapped to Draco's, and he smirked wider.
He licked his lips again; this time slower, more seductive like.
A raging storm filled Draco.
This person was Harry James Potter.
God my head hurts....
But not as much as my stomach....
My stomach just hurts like it's being set on fire.......
Fire hurts...
It burns.......
Wait.....
This really fucking feels like fire!
Neville's eyes popped open and he tried sitting up, but he clutched his stomach in pain and fell back, hissing with pain. GOD DAMN YOU BONE REGROWER!
"Nice move."
Neville's eyes opened wide. He slid his head to the side. His head still honked at him loudly, but that really didn't matter right now.
What mattered right now was Draco.
Neville stared wide-eyes at the Death Eater.
He was speechless.
What could he say to Draco?
No words could explain how he felt...because Neville didn't even know how he felt.
Then, after many moments of silence, Neville choked out, "I-im sorry, D-draco."
There was a deep sigh from Draco. The Death Eater shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's fine. You can't help getting abused."
Neville felt sadness fill him, and it poured out of his eyes; literally.
He cried; sobbed.
"I'm so weak...," he choked. "I should've been able to fight him off.....i shouldn't have let him do all those things to me....*sob*...."
"You can't help being sensitive."
It became silent, except for Neville's sobs.
Neville couldn't explain what he was feeling right then.
He was curious as to why Draco was saying it was okay; slightly disappointed too. He was happy and depressed, but mostly, he was ashamed of himself.
"W-why are you being so nice to me?" Neville whispered.
Draco grinned, chuckling. "Do you really want to know?"
Neville raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Draco grinned wider, holding out his index finger. "First reason: as soon as your well enough, your going to be consumed by a life of rough submitting sex."
Neville's mouth dropped.
Draco added his middle finger to his index. "Seconds reason: Dear 'ol Harry ain't looking to well right now."
Neville's mouth dropped as Draco pointed to a hospital bed on the far side of the wing.
It was covered, but Neville was sure that the person under it was not looking to well right now.
Neville looked back to Draco. "You didn't......"
Draco grinned, nodding. "I did."
*flashback*
Draco hated it.
He wanted to kill him.
Kill that bastard who had hurt his Neville.
His.
Draco has been currently stalking Harry Potter, vowing to put the boy in the hospital for at least two months.
Harry, being Harry, didn't notice Draco one bit.
He was used to the glares; hell, he had some bloody idea that if he smirked back to them, it would make him seem tough.
Oh, but it didn't, i assure you.
As far as Draco's concerned, it only made him want to his the boy harder.
He would beat the shit out of Harry; for every centimeter he had moved on Neville, that deserved a punch.
For every kiss he gave Neville, that deserved a kick.
As you could see, Harry was going to get it rough.
And Draco? He was going to do this all himself.
Though he was one to love manipulating people, the Potter didn't deserve such grace
Potter deserved hell, and he was going to get it.
Draco didn't know if he was going to kill the boy; it really didn't matter.
He had killed before. Sad but true.
He is a servant of a powerful lord, after all. Stupid lord....Draco didn't want to be this slave; he was forced too.
Ooh, maybe he would put the mark on Potter.
That would sure as hell ruin his Ego.
Potter working with the Dark Lord to conquer evil, wouldn't that be wonderful?
No, what would be wonderful would be for me to actually be able to put my thick cock in Neville's tight, hot arse by next week. Now that, would be wonderful!
Draco sighed.
He watched as Harry got out of his seat, already finishing dinner.
He winked and grinned broadly at the younger Malfoy before disappearing.
Draco smirked back. Payback time.
He followed Potter out the door, to where he cornered the boy.
Harry tried to scream for help but Draco broke his jaw.
Harry tried to run, but Draco fractured his left ankle, and busted his right knee cap.
Harry tried to push Draco off, but he ended up with one dislocated arm, and one feeling like jelly as it had no bones.
Harry tried to hold back his tears, but Draco slapped him multiple times and caused him two black eyes and many teeth to fly out his mouth.
And, just for a little fun, Draco broke eight ribs.
And then, he slowly made his way to Madame Pomfrey and said innocently
"Harry Potter just got beat up!"
And what did Harry learn from this whole charade?
Don't mess with Draco's Possession.
*End of Flashback*
END
