Title: Curiosity and Willows

Author: SassyInkPen (December 2004)

Pairing: Neville/Draco

Rating: [Mature]

Part: 1/1

Note: Written for Covenites Seekrit Santa Challange. 2004


If anyone had told him it would come to this, Neville would have decked them.  Well...no, that's not true.  He would have blushed beet red and fled from the room like he always did.  But no one had warned him, and the day he looked at Draco Malfoy and realized that he was deeply attracted...the shock alone nearly knocked him over.  Since then, he'd suffered in silence.  Oh how he'd suffered.  

There were the countless times in class when he got stranded, not wanting to leave the safety of his desk and risk giving away the evidence of his desire.  Herbology was the worst...the rich scent of the plants and the dirt,  Draco's voice and hands...and nowhere to hide.  The last time, he was sure that Crabbe had caught him looking.  That was all he needed...for Draco to find out.  He would be as good as dead.  He could only pray that Vince was too dumb to notice, or at least to realize what was going on.  Still...Neville was shaking in his shoes the next day as he made his way down into the dungeons for Potions class. 

To his very great relief, class passed largely uneventfully, and, with the exception of one small fire and a hole in the table, he got through it unharmed and with his secret in tact.  So pleased was he, that he didn't even notice the figure looming in the hall until he found himself pinned against the stones and transfixed by a pair of cold gray eyes.  In spite of himself, he felt a shiver run down his spine and lodge itself somewhere in the vicinity of his groin.  "Wh-what d-do you w-w-want....?" he stammered, feeling the color creeping up his cheeks.

"I hear you've been taking an unnatural interest in my activities, Longbottom," sneered Draco, tightening his fists in the folds of Neville's robes causing them to squeeze close around his throat.

"No," squeaked Neville, tugging weakly at his tie with one hand.  "No, I mean....I-I'm n-n-not.  I don't.  I didn't."   He clamped his eyes shut and willed his face to cool.  He knew from the silent laughter that wafted over him, it wasn't working.

"My god...." scoffed Draco.  "It's true isn't it, you little fairy?  You've been watching me and getting your rocks off over it.  I bet you're hard right now, aren't you?"   Draco's hand slid down the front of Neville's body and pressed between his legs.

With strength he didn't realize he possessed, Neville pushed free of Draco's grip and ran head long down the corridor, burning with shame and mortification.


Draco sat in the common room that night, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.  All afternoon, he'd been devising ways he could make Longbottom suffer with his newfound knowledge.  The more he thought of it, though, the more curious he became.  He didn't really go in for guys, but he did occasionally check them out in the locker room after Quidditch practice and wondered sometimes.  He supposed the fact that he wondered at all bore some consideration, and that was just what he was doing as he stared into the flames in the great hearth.  There was no question in his mind that Longbottom had it bad for him.  Perhaps he could use that to his advantage, rather then just to humiliate the boy. 


The next morning, Neville sat hunched over at the breakfast table, stirring the eggs around his plate.  His face still flushed hot whenever he thought about Draco catching him in the hall.  What on earth was he going to do now that Draco knew?  How could he show his face anywhere.  He hadn't even wanted to come down to eat, but tripped himself up when he couldn't think of a good excuse to stay behind.  A breath of wind ruffled his hair as the morning owls swooped in to deliver the mail, but Neville ignored them since there was rarely anything for him.  Just an occasional dry note from Gran.

As such, he nearly leapt straight out of his seat when a small, neat letter dropped onto his plate.  He looked up to see a huge steel gray owl swoop back up to the windows and fly away.  Picking up the letter gingerly, Neville examined it for any clue to its sender, but found none.  The only mark on the outside of the envelope was his surname written in block letters, and a teeny gob of wax on the back holding it closed.  Glancing around to see that his classmates were occupied with their own letters and packages, he slipped his thumb under the flap and broke the seal.  Inside was a single thin sheet of fine parchment that read: 

"Meet me under the big willow tree at the far side of the lake right after classes today.  Don't be late.  Don't tell anyone.  And if you break any of the rules I'm going to tell the whole school that you're a drooling a little fairy who's always trying to get a peek up everyone's robes.  Then I'll sic Crabbe and Goyle on you.   ~~~You damn well better know who"

Neville froze where he sat, holding the note in trembling hands.  When he dared to lift his head an inch and glance toward the Slytherin table, Draco was leering at him, and made big cow eyes when their gazes met.  Neville looked away hastily and crumpled the note into a tiny little ball, his cheeks ablaze once more.  

Neville stumbled through the day, barely able to function, but since that was his usual state, no one seemed to notice.  He was terrified.  He was sure that Draco was going to beat him up for what had happened yesterday.  He didn't really understand why Draco would want to keep that especially private, but he was grateful for that at least.  Another, more horrible part of him, was rather excited about the whole idea.  He was going to meet Draco Malfoy for a secret rendezvous, after all.  It was a blessing that Draco flatly ignored him the whole day, since Neville spent much of it with a treacherous hard-on, hiding behind tables and doors.  He tried desperately to inform his body that this wasn't a good thing, but it wasn't listening. 

When the final class of the day let out, Neville hung back until all his classmates were gone.  Then he stashed his books and headed for the Entrance Hall.  He wasn't looking forward to it, but the prospect of public humiliation was far far worse.


Draco sat on a blanket underneath the largest willow tree he'd ever seen.  It stood fifty feet tall, and its feathery tendrils of leaves hung down thick on all sides, sweeping the ground in the breeze.  From inside like this, it was possible to forget that any world existed outside.  For this he was eternally grateful, because the possibility of getting caught by any of his classmates was enough to send a chill down his spine.  It was nearly enough to make him back out of the whole idea and leave, but there was no other opportunity to satisfy his curiosity.  He couldn't go to any of his housemates for fear of retaliation should he offend the wrong one, and he didn't dare try to seek anyone outside of Slytherin...word would surely spread and he'd be labeled a fag whether or not he turned out to enjoy any of it.  No, Neville would have to do.  At least he could be assured of the git being scared enough not to give him away.

A rustle of leaves, a muffled "oouf", and the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground signaled Neville's arrival, and Draco shook his head.  After a moment, hands appeared through the vines and Neville stepped into the circle, covered in dry leaves with a dirt smudge on his cheek.  He was pale and shaken. 

"For god's sake, Longbottom," said Draco from where he sat, "Can't you do the simplest thing without fouling it up?"  It suddenly occurred to Draco that he might be risking bodily harm if he went through with this.  He shook off the idea as he stood up. 

For every step he took forward, Neville took one backward, and Draco finally stopped and sighed heavily.  This wasn't going to be easy, either.  He shot forward and grabbed Neville by the lapels, hauling him up against the trunk of the tree.  Neville just stood there, eyes squeezed shut and face turned away, trembling and whimpering.  Draco smirked and decided the best approach was just to cut to the chase, so he slipped his hand between the folds of Neville's robe, intent on starting with his chest.  Instead, he was met with something hard and metallic beneath Neville's shirt.  "What the fuck, Longbottom?" he snapped, looking up quizzically.  With out waiting for an answer, he released the boy and used both hands to tear Neville's clothes open.  Inside he was wearing what looked like the chest plate of a suit of armor.  Draco was dumbfounded. 

Neville's eyes were huge and he looked like he might be on the verge of tears.  "Please don't beat me up, I swear I'll never ever tell anyone.  I won't look at you anymore or anything, I swear it...."

Draco couldn't help but laugh.  "You thought you'd get out of a beating by wearing armor?  Stupid as that is, at least it's original..."   He grabbed the chest plate and pulled it free, tossing it on the ground behind them.  Neville was panicked again, face squinched and eyes closed as he waited for his fate.  Draco grinned as he looked down Neville's lanky frame.  Not great, not terrible.  Good enough.  He studied Neville's naked chest, heaving up and down with his ragged breaths.  Finally, Draco reached up with one hand and stroked it across the pale skin.  Neville yelped as if he'd been scalded and jumped before dropping to the ground in a heap.

Draco knelt down and rolled him onto his back.  Wild eyes stared back at him and Neville gaped like a fish.  "Christ," spat Draco, "You're going to have to calm down if we're going to get *anything* accomplished here...." 

"Wh-wh-what are you d-doing?" squeaked Neville in a voice so breathless, Draco had to strain to make it out.

"Just think of yourself as a glorified guinea pig," Draco told him, moving to rummage through his school bag.  "That ought to boost your self esteem for a few minutes."

When he returned, he held an ornate silver flask, which he thrust into Neville's hand as he pulled him up to a sitting position.  "Drink that."   Neville looked from the flask to Draco and back again, uncertainly written all over his face.  "Come on, Longbottom, we don't have all day, you know." 

Neville flipped open the stopper with nervous hands and took a healthy gulp, coughing harshly and spilling liquid down his chin.  "Wh-what's this potion do?" he asked meekly.

Draco had taken the flask and was just putting it to his lips.  He paused, staring at Neville incredulously.  A sly grin spread over his face as he said, "It's an aphrodisiac....it's going to make us all hot and bothered so I can stomach touching you."  Then he took several long swigs, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. 

Draco handed the flask back to Neville, but he just sat there frozen and staring, panting erratically.  After a moment, Draco rolled his eyes, "It's fire whiskey, you dunce.  Haven't you ever had a drink before?"

Neville gave himself a little shake, and lowered his gaze to stare at the flask instead.  "Of course not," he muttered.

"Well, drink up," said Draco thrusting it at him again.

Taking it slowly, Neville asked, "Why am I h-here?"

Draco took a deep breath.  He was getting impatient.  "Because I'm curious and you're available.  Now shut up and drink some more of that so we can on with this."   He was pulling off his tie with one hand and unfastening his robes with the other.  Neville took a sip from the flask, and then another couple of gulps as he watched Draco.

When Draco was stripped down to his shirt and trousers, he yanked the flask out of Neville's hand, took another swig and tossed it aside.  He could feel the warm liquor flowing through his veins, and by the way Neville's eyes were glazing he was too.  Good...that would make things far easier.  Draco pushed Neville onto his back once more, and this time, when he ran his hand across Neville's skin, the boy moaned and gasped, but didn't freak out.  Draco smiled and swung a knee over straddle Neville, sitting down squarely on his hips.  He had to admit that he rather liked the way that Neville panted and squirmed to his touch, and the feel of Neville's body under him when he rocked his hips was quite nice.

He was just settling in comfortably, leaning to spread both hands over Neville's chest, when Neville whimpered in panic, arching his back and tossing his head.  He bucked his hips a couple of times and then slumped on the blanket, panting with little short breaths.

Draco arched one eyebrow and sat still, looking down at Neville, "Are you kidding me, Longbottom?  Already?   Don't tell me you've never come before either..."

Neville turned beet red.  "W-well, yeah, but....I mean.....Well, you're sitting right ON it....I couldn't help it."

"You're pathetic, you know that don't you?"

Neville nodded.

"Well, you're just going to have to make it up to me," shrugged Draco, unzipping his trousers.

"How?" squeaked Neville, struggling up onto his elbows and staring nervously at Draco's crotch.

Draco tried not to laugh. "Give me your hand," he said, moving back a little so that Neville could sit up.  Neville held one hand out gingerly and Draco grabbed it, pulling it between his legs, "I assume you do know how to jerk off, don't you?"

Neville nodded, licking his lips and screwing up his face the way he did in potions class.  Draco could only hope that meant concentration, and that he wasn't going to end up like one of Neville's projects.  After a couple of moments fumbling around, Neville seemed to figure what he was doing, and Draco found himself pleasantly surprised.  It felt rather good, and he would even go so far as to say that Neville was better at this than Pansy.  He supposed that would only stand to reason, since Neville probably had more practical experience.  Draco let his eyes drift shut, and rocked his hips slowly in time with Neville's hand.  When he pictured the look on Neville's face as he'd come, a strong thrill ran down his spine, and he moaned out loud.  Reaching down, Draco clamped his hand over Neville's, speeding things up, and within moments, was gasping and panting as he came hard, blond hair swinging down into his face.  When he was finished, Draco sat there a while, catching his breath.  It would certainly seem that his curiosity was justified....but by no means satisfied. 

He pulled out his wand and cleaned them up, then set about gathering up his things.  As he stood folding the blanket, and watching Neville trying to make sense of his torn clothing, he warned, "You better not tell anyone about this, or I really will beat the crap out of you.  You understand me?"

Neville nodded sheepishly.  He held his robes closed with one hand, and dragged the battered chest plate behind him with the other.  As he turned to go, Draco said, "And make sure no one follows you tomorrow."  With a smirk at Neville's surprised gasp, Draco disappeared between the vines.