The Neville Affair
(The Real Malfoy Files)
Part 2 - The Dormitory
By Krissy and Libertine
"Did he force you to do it?" Hermione said, holding Neville's hand. They were sitting on Neville's bed - and Neville was tired, exhausted after all that running, and what he really wanted to do was have a long sleep and forget about it. But he didn't have the heart to tell Hermione to go away. Or was it that he didn't have the guts..?
"We didn't do anything," he protested, meekly.
"Sweetie, it's okay." Hermione wrapped her arms about him in a hug. "You can tell me, Neville. I'm your friend."
"I'm being.. honest," Neville gasped. Hermione's hug was interfering with his breathing. He wriggled, uncomfortably. "Nothing happened. I just sort of slid onto the floor and.."
"He didn't put a spell on you to make you do it? Imperius, I bet. He probably cursed you. That's why you don't remember.. oh, just wait till I tell Dumbledore about this.."
"No!" Neville shreiked, pushing her off as best he could. As Hermione watched, he shrunk back against the headboard, curling his knees up to his stomach. "I don't *want* anyone to know about it. I don't - nothing happened. It was an accident."
Hermione's face changed from a concerned expression to an understanding smile. "Ah," she said, in a much quieter voice, and tapped the side of her nose. "I see. Experimenting. Well, you know, I have no problem with that. If you're gay, I mean. Or even bisexual."
"Hermione.." Neville whispered, hopelessly.
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with it," said Hermione, cheerfully. "I'm sure Ron and Harry aren't bigoted, either. And I guess, in the right light, Draco is fairly cute. If you like pointy men. I mean, personally, I like the sort of buff, manly types.."
"Hermione?" said Neville.
"..see, Viktor Krum - he was sexy, wasn't he? Very manly. Oh, gosh," Hermione continued, with a very broad grin. "This is going to be wonderful. I'll finally have someone to talk to who understands how impossible men can be. And we can go shopping together. I'm probably going to head to Hogsmead next weekend - there's a really nice designer robe store. And we can go for coffee, afterwards, or watch the local Hogsmead Quidditch team train.."
"I'm not gay," Neville mumbled. "At least, I'm fairly sure I'm not -"
"Don't be silly," said Hermione, engulfing him in another hug. "Of course you are, Neville. I've known it for years."
The Slytherin trio slouched back to their common room, none of them daring to make eyecontact. Draco's face remained flushed - even the rims of his ears were crimson. He walked with his head down, his shoulders hunched up, and his arms folded across his chest.
"Hey!" said Crabbe, suddenly.
"Eh?" said Draco.
"That little.. Weasley git," said Crabbe, angrily. "Back there.. did he insult us?"
"Dunno," said Goyle. "Prolly. We should like - do something."
"Yeah," said Crabbe.
"Hurt him. Or somethi-"
Draco hissed loudly in exasperation, and the other two shut up. When they reached the wall which led to the Slytherin tower, he spat out the password, and once the secret door had slid open they all walked in silence together down the passage. The common room, when they entered, was completely dark, except for a few candles burning along the mantlepiece above the hearth.
The fact he couldn't see the other's faces gave Draco the necessary courage to raise the subject.
"Look," he said. "What you saw in there, okay - it never bloody happened."
"In where?" came the gormless reply from Goyle.
"In the fucking bathroom," Draco growled. "Surely you remember, Gregory. You know - Longbottom on his knees, me with my pants down, does that ring any bells?"
"It never happened, okay? Nothing happened. Nothing at all. And if you breathe a word to anyone.. well, I'm not inviting you back to the manor at all this holiday. Is that clear?" Draco stamped his foot, and then squinted about the room. "Where the hell are the lights, anyway?" He raised his wand. "Lumos.."
"Uh, Malfoy?" said Pansy Parkinson, as the room filled with light. "What exactly did you do with Neville in the bathroom..?"
Harry Potter was troubled. No matter what position he tried to sleep in, he couldn't get comfortable. The mental image of Neville and Draco together was preying on his mind. Even if both of them had denied anything had happened, the evidence was right there..
He had to give Neville some credit, though. Up until today, Harry had always figured Neville was a little slow; when Neville left school, he'd probably end up living for the rest of his life with his severe great aunt. But tonight had proved that Neville had hidden depths. Harry was certain that, when looking for a mate, someone like Draco Malfoy would pick the very top of the range available to him..
So why didn't he pick me?
I did not just think that, Harry thought, saucer-eyed, and very much awake. He swallowed painfully and pulled aside the red curtain of his four poster bed. There was no sound from Ron's bed - which meant his best friend was probably in the same situation as he was, turning over the evening's events in his mind again and again.
"Ron..?" Harry whispered.
He'd been right. Ron's curtain was pulled aside immediately, and his freckled face poked out through the gap. "Yeah, Harry?"
"Um.. y'know.. Neville," said Harry, nervously.
"Fucked up, ain't it?" Ron sounded relieved that Harry had gotten it out into the open immediately. "Geeze. I can't get it out of my mind. I mean - I shower with the guy, and all. What if all this time he's been, you know, looking at me. Like, in a - I dunno. A sex-way."
"Isn't that sort of prejudiced of you?" Harry asked. "I mean, I don't look at every girl in a sex-way," he added. "Just some of them. Hermione - see, Herm is just a friend. There's no sex."
"Would you be still saying that if you had to shower with her?" Ron challenged.
"Um. I dunno," said Harry. "Never really thought about it."
"Look, I bet that if you were forced to take a bath with Hermione, you'd get, a - you know. I mean - she'd be naked."
"Yes, Ron. Most people are, when they take a bath," said Harry.
"I bet he's been having - you knows - all the time when we were in the showers together. Ew."
"For what it's worth, Ron, I haven't noticed Neville get any you knows at all in the showers," said Harry.
Ron blinked at him. "What?" he managed finally, in a choked voice. "You've been looking?"
"What? Oh. No! Not like that!"
"Maybe he hasn't, but I know I have," giggled an Irish voice, from the other end of the room. "Mine's a lot bigger than yours, Ronnikins. But see, in the low-country, we build them large. And durable. It's the weather, y'see. Of course, Dean here, is even better equipped than myself.."
"You're damn right," said Dean. "You know what they say about black men.."
"Hung like a damn donkey," said Seamus, whose voice sounded slightly muffled, as if he were trying not to laugh and talk at the same time. "A goddam collosus of manhood. I swear, I can see him coming about a minute before he arrives."
"In a room, of course," Dean finished, with a snicker.
"You're both awake?" Harry spluttered. "This is a private conversation, you know. Crap. What did you hear, exactly?"
"Oh, just that Neville seems to be batting for the other team," Seamus cooed. "And all the power to him, I say. So long as he keeps his power restricted to whomever he's bonking.."
"Draco," Ron supplied helpfully, before Harry could stop him.
Both Seamus and Dean broke into hysterical laughter. "You're having us on!" Dean gasped. "Neville and Draco? Oh my god.. I think I'm going to hurt a lung, here.."
"I am not gay!" Neville howled, from his bed. "Nothing happened."
"Oh well. Better luck next time," Seamus cracked.
"Try pushing harder," Dean chortled.
"This isn't funny! Nothing happened! I just slipped and fell.."
"..onto his dick? Oh, this is too bloody good.."
"Leave him alone," Harry snapped.
"And leave me, alone, Neville," Ron said. "I mean - we're friends. But if I ever catch you looking.."
"Oh god.." Neville mumbled.
The others continued their joking long into the night. Harry was forced to hold a pillow over his head so that he could sleep in peace.
"We were waiting for Millicent to get back from her detention with McGonagall," said Pansy, quailing slightly under Draco's silver-eyed stare. "We were throwing her a surprise party. We heard you lot come in, and we didn't want to spoil it if it turned out she'd come in with you, so we just stayed quiet. To see, um, if.. did you and Neville have sex?"
The rest of the assembled Slytherins nodded in unison, some of them quelling their snickers behind their hands; others looking positively agast to discover this new facet of their friend's personality. The entire house was there, even the prefects - if Draco had called a full house assembly in order to state to the masses his sexual preference, he couldn't have reached more ears.
It was a right fuck-up, and no mistake. Draco's nails were very slowly raking channels in the wooden arm of Pansy's chair.
"Well, did you?" Pansy asked, nervously.
"..no," said Draco.
He looked to Crabbe and Goyle for their confirmation, but found that both of them, unsubtle creatures though they were, had become very interested in the ceiling. "Go on," he ordered them, angrily. "Tell them I didn't have sex with Longbottom."
"I dunno," said Crabbe, finally. "There was all this.. gunk on his mouth."
"And his hair," Goyle added.
"Gunk?" said Pansy, raising an eyebrow.
"I was showing him how to gel his hair," said Draco, suddenly inspired. "That's it. The gunk was gel. And I - yes. What? What the fuck are you all looking at?"
Blaise Zabini tittered. "Draco's gay.."
"I fucking am not!" Draco tore at the arm of the chair, then flung himself away. "To hell with you all. I expect you're all jealous, anyway," he added, snidely.
"Um," said Pansy. "Of you - with Neville?"
"I don't think so," said Blaise.
Goyle thought about it. "Nope," said Goyle.
Draco paused in the doorway leading to the dormitories. He waited patiently for a quick one-liner to enter his brain. It didn't happen. "Hah," he told them instead, with feeling, and slammed his way up to bed.
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