The Neville Affair
(The Real Malfoy Files)
Part 4 - The Stairs
By Krissy and Libertine
There was only so much a boy could stand. Lies, hearsay, slander – Draco shoved himself abruptly from his table, one hand pressed to his aching temples, and slammed out of the room. Almost as soon as he had reached the doorway, however, the babble of rumour-mongering sprung up again in full force. And Draco suddenly became horribly aware of how bad this looked for him.
Longbottom just walked out with Potter – and now Draco, looking incredibly pissed off – had decided to go after them.. well, that was what they all must be thinking. It certainly wasn't true in the slightest. Draco had absolutely no intention of heading off after the Gryffindors. Absolutely none.
Well, maybe a little.
If only to slap that incorrigible, fat piece of shit that was Neville Longbottom around the head. Very, very hard.
It wasn't fair, Draco thought, as he stumbled through the corridors of Hogwarts. It wasn't fair at all. It was disgusting, really – the way they'd all turned on him. The way they laughed at him – as if someone like Draco would even consider being touched by Neville Longbottom.
Even if he did look rather sweet on his knees..
I did not just think that, Draco thought, his grey eyes wide in horror. Spinning himself around the edge of a spiral staircase, he rested his head against the bolster for a long moment. He wasn't coping with this – he wasn't coping at all. Being turned into a ferret and getting bitten by that great, monsterous griffin creature of Hagrid's was nothing compared to the embarrassment of this. Anyone could get bitten, and anyone could annoy a proffessor; those incidents had simply been the result of extraordinarily bad luck on Draco's part, and Draco was fairly sure that, with the exception of a few particulary bloody-minded Gryffindors, most people had forgotten about them.
But getting caught in an abandoned toilet with Neville Longbottom on his knees – well, they weren't going to disregard that so easily.
Draco banged his head against the bolster. "This .. isn't .. fair .." he growled, spitting out a new word between each blow.
"Malfoy.. what ever are you doing?"
Draco leapt to attention, releasing the bolster. Standing at the opposite end of the hall was the Potion's teacher, Snape – and at another time, Draco would have been pleased to see his favourite proffessor. In fact, at any other time, he would have derived great enjoyment out of telling Snape that Harry and Neville had adjourned to the bedroom together, ostensibly to perform sexual acts upon each other.
But Draco, swiftly realising how easily people could manipulate words and scenarios into an absolute verification of an untruth, felt that if he did decide to bare such secrets of the Gryffindor's personal lives to Snape, it would only make him appear jealous.
Which Draco was most certainly not.
"Sir?" said Draco, wrinkling his forehead. "I was just – going to common room to pick up my books for class."
Snape seemed vaguely bemused by Draco's shiftiness. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Malfoy," he said. "But – if you are going to the common room, I think I should be the one to inform you that the Slytherin dorm is on the opposite side of the school. In fact," the professor continued, unable to keep the snide note from his voice, "you appear to be standing at the base of the staircase leading to the Gryffindor tower.."
"Yes, well," said Draco. "I – ah. Must have gotten lost."
"You've been at this school for how many years exactly?" Snape shook his head, disbelieving. "I do hope that if you plan to have some sexual triste with Longbottom before class, you still manage to make it to Potions on time."
"Nearly-Headless Nick told the Bloody Baron, and the Baron told Peeves, and Peeves wrote it on my blackboard this morning," Snape explained. "To be honest, Malfoy, I can't imagine your father would be particulary pleased with you.."
"But I didn't! Nothing happened!" Draco babbled. "Honestly. It was just a stupid mix-up. I – I –" Increasingly, Draco was finding himself lost for words, something which vexed him to no end. Closing his eyes breifly, he willed himself to regain his cool.
"Potter, I could understand," said Snape, mercilessly. "But Longbottom? He's not exactly the leader of the pack, now, is he? In fact, I doubt you could find a more clumsy, bumbling partner, even if you serenaded Hagrid.."
"Professor – sir," Draco interupted the man, as calmly as he possibly could. "I have absolutely no interest in Longbottom. Or Potter, either, for that matter."
"Which rather begs the question as to why you're standing at the bottom of the Gryffindor tower," said Snape.
"Yes, well," said Draco. He rubbed his face with his hands. "Look. Just – sir. It was nothing, really. I'm not gay. I'm not even moderately happy."
"So you don't take after your father?" said Snape, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"Eh?" said Draco.
"Well, Lucius Malfoy did spend his earlier days at Hogwarts playing boytoy to James Potter," said Snape, frowning slightly at the memory. "Thank goodness I managed to snare him away from that unsightly little Gryffindor idiot before the two became serious. If I hadn't, who knows what might have happened."
"Er – sir?"
The light of recollection sparkled in the Professor's dark eyes. "Now, when was the last time I made love to your father.." he mused, running his hand over his pointed chin.
"..just last Tuesday, I think it was. Or perhaps it was Wednesday. Yes, definately Wednesday –"
"I don't want to hear this, sir," Draco squawked, covering his ears with both hands.
"If you say so," said Snape, seeming to tire of the conversation. Gathering his voliminous robes about him, he made off, turning back to give Draco a sharp look before turning the corner. "Potions, remember. And try not to be late this time."
"Yes. Sir." Draco squeaked, and clutched the bolster.
Harry almost had a bounce to his step, but not quite. His thoughts about Neville had left him confused, very confused. He could still feel the warmth of Neville's body pressed against his, the feather light brush of soft lips. And he could see the confusion in Neville's own eyes afterwards. He had almost seemed scared. Had they rushed too fast into kissing?
Harry didn't know.
The whole prospect of Neville wasn't as confusing as the whole aspect of loving someone was. No one had ever once said 'Harry, I care about you.' Or, 'Harry, I...love you.' Sure, Ron and his family expressed their concern for him, and Hermione always made sure he was fine, but it wasn't the same. And it seemed Neville would just be added to the long list of 'friends.' Maybe closer friends now.. Or probably not. It had just been a kiss. Only a kiss. Neville hadn't said anything about meeting up later, so it was like.. A one time thing? Harry couldn't stop the single tear that rolled down his cheek. Another quickly followed, after another.
That's all I ever am. Someone's distraction.
Caught up in his wallowing thoughts, Harry continued blindly down the stairs, not seeing the sulking blond head of hair at the bottom.
"...never get anyone," Harry sighed softly to himself. It was then when he felt the warm contact as he tumbled down the last remaining steps. It had been a blur and Harry groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. Mashing your pretty little nose into the wall was not a wise decision, Harry decided. Quickly gaining his senses, he realized he was on top of someone. Someone warm - and that warm person was groaning softly.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Harry babbled, eyes wide. "I didn't see anyone down here. Let me help you..." Harry offered a hand to the person, who took it and leaned up. He'd been sprawled on his back and Harry could already imagine the bruises that were forming from his weight.
Then Harry realized exactly who he was helping. "Malfoy," he spat, aggrieved. "And here I thought it was someone important." Harry snatched his hand back and Draco Malfoy tumbled back to the floor, groaning loudly in protest.
"Potter," Draco sneered, gingerly sitting up. He carefully climbed to his feet, using the wall as his support. "I should have known *you* would nearly kill me." Draco's gray eyes carefully studied Harry. Harry's eyes looked red and puffy. "So, you look like you were crying. Did Longbottom screw you then leave you?"
Harry's lips twitched into a frown and his eyes narrowed, "What do you know? You're the one who comes all over him then leaves him to try and fix the mess!!"
Draco snorted at the words. "You look like you could use a good fuck, which obviously you didn't get. Aww, did Potter finally realize he takes after his father?"
"What are you going on about?" Harry asked. His glare darkened when Draco didn't comment. "Well?!"
Draco's smile turned malicious. "You want everyone, don't you?" Draco almost laughed at the horrified expression on Harry's face. "You'd probably do Dumbledore if he asked, wouldn't you? Just like your father. James Potter wasn't as well respected as you thought. The man was everyone's slut. Just like you." Okay, so it wasn't the truth. But Potter didn't need to know that.
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but thought better about it. "At least someone would *want* to fuck me. Unlike you. I'm sure it's just you're daddy who likes you."
"At least my father would care," Draco bit back. "You don't even HAVE one. I'm sure he'd be able to give you pointers. Like how to suck, which you must be bloody pathetic at doing since you aren't with Longbottom."
Harry scowled. He reached into his pocket to search for his wand.
"Oooh, Potter's taking his wand out. Can I play with it too?"
"Only if I can shove it up your ass," Harry ground out as he pulled the wand out. He raised it and stared at the stick for several moments before lowering it.
Draco snorted. "Can't even cast a simple spell? Pity."
"You aren't even worth it," Harry replied. His green eyes stared into Draco's gray ones. There was a silent challenge in the haunted green depths, but Harry stalked off before Draco could wonder about it. Who needed Potter's grief, anyway?
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